#then she randomly made it a single. it was already one of her top streamed songs. but not every artist will ever get to do that

[edge-oftheworld]

all this being said if whatever storytelling that's going on makes them happy and feel like what they're doing is their own or whatever I'd much rather they feel good about what they do than forced by the shape of the industry to change the way they operate. not only because if they're having fun and feeling free it's gonna mean making more good music for longer. if you gotta do it this way get it out of your system kings but don't make the choice blind to the sacrifice you might be making

the thing about 5sos (including their solo work) is that they have these stupidly high standards of themselves and produce entire albums of songs that are single worthy. then they don't end up with clear standout single songs and they use the single release cycle exclusively for storytelling purposes. like i get that you have something to say but next time you're reminiscing about how much youngblood (song) changed your life and how you never did get another radio hit as big. it might be your own fault

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Can i request the RFA with a mexican MC?

Hellou! Aight so I'mma make it a bit more general latinx MC bc I am not mexican BUT I am a latina pft so yeah! Also should I add the minor trio and maybe Rika on another post? 👀

(psttt also if you're into BNHA @cafedanslanuit made an awesome hc post about the BNHA boys with a latinx MC if you want to check it out: x

RFA members with a Latinx MC:

Zen:

This man absolutely loves the MUSIC

Salsa? Merengue? Rumba, Samba, Bachata, THE CHA CHA CHA!?

He is an absolute BEAST he seriously loves all the dances and he has some friggin HIP MOVES.

Honestly you're kinda jealous he dances better than you

Some days while you're cooking or just chilling at home, you'll put up your favorite music, and soon enough you'll be swaying to the rythm of the beat, swaying your hips and signing along to the music

Zen will come back from work and find you dancing, so he'll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your hips, the two of you dancing together

At one point he'll probably try to sing but absolutely butcher the words too lmao

Yoosung:

The first time you met for a date, you actually broke the poor boy

He was NOT expecting the kiss on the cheek, he wasn't prepared!!!

Especially since Korea saves the whole touchy feely things for people that are either family or couples, usually they aren't really ones to come and hug their friends or kiss their cheek to say hello as a greeting

Meanwhile, in your culture if you don't do it you get a glare from your mother and probably a chancla beating for being rude AKSJSNSJS (been there too many times 😅💀)

After you start dating though he absolutely loves it. He didn't realize how much he loved being hugged or kissed until he met you!

He finds it pretty funny whenever you get mad and go on a swearing spree, especially when you hit your foot or elbow against something. You just start yelling and curing their mother, their father and their children, and he just loves you so much, it's weird, but he loves it.

Btw, COOKING TRADITIONAL LATIN FOOD AJSJSNSJSBS

At first it's an absolutely mess but he soon gets the hang of it

Jaehee:

MORE FOOOOD

Jaehee absolutely loves EVEYTHING about your culture, especially the food.

Whenever you are having a bad day she will cheer you up by making you your favorite foods!

On Christmas she makes a mix between korean and latin foods that you both enjoy, her favorite, of course are tamales! (Who doesn't love tamales, also they're a MUST for Christmas akkssnsn)

She also likes cooking you for breakfast gallo pinto (it's basically rice and beans but it's friggin delicious.)

Some of her favorite's are chalupas and chifrijo too!

listen you basically won the lottery with this woman, she is such a GOOD cook and she makes the most delicious food.

Sometimes you will find her in the kitchen trying to sign some of her favorite songs. She only knows the chorus but she definitely has the spirit!

Jumin:

One word:

Telenovelas

Listen, it's already been confirmed that Jumin has seen a few soap operas (and been influenced by them hence the kiss scene in his route ajsjsjsj)

Now k-dramas can be pretty dramatic.

BUT HAVE YOU SEEN THE SPANISH TELENOVELAS!?

Seriously if you get this man near them there's no telling what he'll do.

Our sweet and adorable Jumin can get influenced by Tv like that pretty easily, let's admit it, so at one point you may wake up and be in a spanish telenovela lmao

Honestly, when it all started, you were chilling at Jumin's place, ironically watching (but actually who are we kidding, you were pretty invested) one of the stupidest telenovelas you had seen in a while. You loved making fun of the characters and watching as chaos unfolded. It eventually became a routine and every Thursday you'd sit on your couch and stream the new episode.

That day Jumin came home early, and he saw you watching TV. You kissed him to welcome him home, but kept your eyes on the dramatic 'cat fight' scene on the tv. Jumin got pretty curious about what you were watching, and so he sat beside you, watching the whole episode in silence.

Once it was done, you felt a bit shaken up by the cliffhanger, but then got up to make some dinner. However, before you could leave Jumin grabbed your hand making yoy raise an eyebrow, confused.

"Jumin? What's wrong?"

"....MC. Why are you leaving? The show hasn't ended yet, has it? We still don't know what happened to Emilio, and Maria still hasn't figured out that Elena tricked her into leaving. Not only that, the 'salon' is about to close down. Love, we have to keep watching to find out what happens."

You let out a laugh and squeezed your boyfriend's cheeks. "Jumin! I didn't know you got so into it. Well sadly, the next episode comes out until next week so we'll have to wait. I can record it though, and wait till you come home so we can maybe watch it together?"

Jumin nodded and you couldn't help but compare him to an excited child that had suddenly found their favorite TV show. Soon, every Thursday the two of you would cuddle in bed together and watch another episode of the soap opera. Jumin enjoyed those moments so much. Not only because he was focused on the story, but because he loved the way you would suddenly gasp or randomly curse at the screen whenever something happened

(ALSO C&R cat telenovela coming out when??? -pfttt poor Jaehee but I'm 100% convinced Jumin would do this lmao)

Saeyoung:

Ohhh boy

You should have never told him about every single leyend that you grew up with as a child.

One day you were sharing with the RFA about all the spooky ghost stories, since Jumin had been asking about a few of them.

Saeyoung came in, heard spooky ghost stories and was immediately sold. That night you told him about La Segua, La Llorona, El Cadejos and more.

The thing is, you were not prepared for the chaos you had suddenly unleashed upon the world.

The next day while Saeyoung played LOLOL with Yoosung, you heard him retelling one of his favorite leyends that you had told him.

La Segua. The story was about a woman that would appear before sunset, asking for help with directions. The thing is, as soon as you helped her and night came, she'd turn into a horse and kill you. (I know it's weird AKSKSJA but I remember being SO scared of this when I was a kid, honestly these legends are so freaking good lmao, everyone in primary school would just be scared of a lady with a horse head pfttttttt)

As soon as you heard him tell the story to Yoosung, you knew that he was planning something. And were you going to stop him? No :D

A few days later, you invited Yoosung out to eat. As the sun was setting you led him towards Saeyoung's home, and then while you walked you met up with a very beautiful lady asking for directions. Yoosung immediately said 'nope' and tried to get you to quickly run away, but you insisted on helping the poor woman. After calming down a very shaken Yoosung, you explained that La Segua was just a story, and that Saeyoung was poebably just trying to spook him when he told it to him. Yoosung calmed down and apologized to the lady, offering to help her go home.

Suddenly you ended up in a very deserted place, making Yoousng feel a bit uneasy. As Yoosung walked, he turned around to tell you something along the lines of 'fuck this, let's go back to Saeyoung's.' he found that there was nothing behind him. He looked around, trying to look for you, but you appeared to have suddnely vanished.

Yoosung felt his throat get dry as the woman's arm tightened around his, and he tried to look anywhere but beside him

"Yoosung~" the woman whispered.

He yelped as he slowly turned around to look at the woman.

And he found a horse head staring back at him.

Later both you and Saeyoung had to look for him for about an hour and a half, and you found him under a bridge, shaking.

Yoosung did not find it funny at all, and you tried to nag Saeyoung telling him that maybe you had taken it too far, but you both couldn't help but laugh.

Of course you made it up to him, Saeyoung got him very exclusive Lolol costumes for his avatars, and Yoosung, even though he developed a trauma for both women and horses, ended up forgiving him and totally forgetting about the incident.

So the next time Saeyoung told him about La Llorona and gave you a mischievous smirk, you prayed for poor and innocent Yoosung, who obviously hadn't learned his lesson.

(this also happened a few more times until you had to intervene bc by now Yoosung wouldn't even go outside pfttt)

Also a few years later, while at the RFA Halloween party, Yoosung got stuck on the top of a tree and wouldn't come down.

Why you may ask? Because as he was drinking some wine, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to find a big ass horse head staring back at him.

Rip Yoosung 😔✊

[irisallenm]

Alone — Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Chapter #02/25 — Single Parenting Masterlist

Words: +1.5 k.

Warnings: Cursing, rape mentions, abuse, blood, and a lot of tears, pregnancy, childbirth(?

Previous | Next

Being a single parent is not easy, and when the world hates Y/N it is only a matter of time for everything to collapse.

When your mother found out your pregnancy test things went straight to hell,  you are force, not only to leave the love of your life, but everything behind and now happiness will not be easy to achive. You are like cinderella before the magic, with more responsibilities and abuse of all kinds, and there is no ball in the small kingdom of the basement you live in, but some times there could be a glimpse of hope, one that calls you “Mommy”.

A/N: Please tell me the gender you think the baby is going to be, I mean I already know but let’s see if you are correct!

Keys to read:

Y/N: Your name.

L/N: Last name.

N/N: Nickname.

H/C: Hair color.

E/C: Eye color.

Taglist: @xoxo-dede​ (Ask to be added!)

‘Where is she?’ The boy in front of him was nervous.

‘She’s not here, sir’. He swallowed his thoughts, he knew for a fact that he was unaware of the situation. ‘I haven’t seen her since before prom, she never came’.

There was sadness in his words.

‘Please, if you know something that can help me found my precious daughter… if you really love her as you said that day when you asked me to date her, then by all means tell me’.

Izuku’s tears sprayed hard from his eyes, thick and salty, with a lot of emotions behind.

‘You should ask your wife’. He looked him directly in the eyes, his green ones meeting his e/c orbs. ‘And if she returns, please let her know that I’m sorry I couldn’t help her when she needed the most…’

The door closed, the boy being apologetic and praying for your safety.

How could he not thought about it? That damn woman...

‘Where is my child?’ the men asked his wife. ‘You said that the boy took her out for prom, but she never even showed up there!

‘I sent her away’. She smiled with pride, ‘she’s not gonna bother us anymore!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Exactly as I said’, a snicker came out of her mouth. ‘That little bitch is far away from us and will never bother us, she’s never coming back’.

‘Tell me!’ The man was stunned. ‘Where is my baby girl?’

‘I AM YOUR BABY GIRL’ She screamed.

‘You are sick!’ The man was crying, his heart was shattered. ‘Give me my daughter back or I’m calling the police!’.

‘Oh no, you won't’. A sharp pain came from the top of his head, with the sound of glass scattering all along the floor. ‘I didn’t send her away just to be in jail!’.

Your father was on the floor, bleeding from the wound in his head, the pain was numb when the adrenaline kicked in. His legs moved to the door, trying to reach the outside and call for help but his feet stumble with a big box on the grass.

‘Luggage?’ The purple suitcase with the green heart that he once bought for you were there, covered in a lot of dirt and leaves, his eyes traveled to a black leather pouch that once was his and you stole it from him at a very young age… A lot of other things dispersed and not well hidden. A lot of things went through his mind, causing a migraine, but he had to run first and then search for his joy in life. ‘Help, somebody, HELP!’

The woman was behind him, with a knife in hand and her face twisted in anger, she was not going to let him go, not after all the work she had done.

‘You are staying with me,’ and before even knowing the knife sunk on his back. ‘Finally, just the two of us’.

At the other side of the word things were not going well either, the first couple of days were normal but then things changed for the worst. Three meals a day turned to two, and two turned to one, now and then you would save food for later, for the baby growing inside. 

Once the first month goes by the fear started to rise, and you wanted to go back, to hug your father, to kiss your ex-boyfriend, to go to a doctor to check on you or at least eat something else than bread and water for a day. You were starving but pushing harder and grabbing your life onto you, begging to whoever was up there to keep you and your child safe.

Was it a girl? Was it a boy? You knew that by this time the doctor would already told you, and you were guessing a boy, for one specific reason… if it was a boy, the family son would not put a finger on him nor make him uncomfortable.

You started thinking about names, the father of the child had a last name with “green” on it, and the Deku nickname made you thought of the trees in one of your favorite video games.

So green and tree, like spring, right?

‘Haru’, you said in a whispered silence. It was weird hearing your voice after all those months in the basement, and the sound of it made you feel warm, like the spring you and Izuku met each other at the entrance exam, or the spring when you shared your first kiss, or the spring where you shared your bodies… spring gave you such a good amount of memories, so why not?

Haru was the name, Haru Midoriya, because you knew he, Izuku, would have stayed with you even in a young pregnancy. You were grateful that you had waited up until your eighteen birthday, he was months older than you so both were on the perfect age to understand what were you doing, on the age to live and explore the ups and downs of life, together… even with a child, but here you were, alone and about to explode.

Wait… explode?

And then it hit you, the cramps and the liquid. When did the time passed so fast? When were you ready to give birth? It was as if the minutes and hours and days and months were mere seconds, as if you were sleeping and everything was going so fast.

Again… more pain, and more and more.

Giving birth was not the easiest thing in a normal environment, but being held hostage on a house far away from home, locked on the basement and with nothing but yourself was hell.

‘Pleas—’ You hissed on the door, punching it with all your might. ‘Help me, my water brok—’

It was the first time you spoke to other that Haru or yourself, but now that those words were for someone else they felt weird, unnatural, uncomfortable and disgusting.

You shouldn’t be talking with them or the punches would turn worst that they already were, or maybe that son of a bitch would come back to have sex and hit you again and again and again.

The first time he did something to you it felt as if you just killed Izuku, as if the promise was broken, not only touching but penetrating and inserting things… not only his, but from another people,randomly. That time you got your lip broken and a black eye, an sprained ankle and marks from cigarettes all over your arms. It hurted you, yes, but the moment he entered you was as if your soul left your body, ignoring everything really going on, as if you were an empty case, a fuck doll, rags, not a human no more.

And the goal of all this was to gave you a miscarriage, that and that the bastard was boring or so he said, and heaven knows why that purpose was never fulfilled, maybe it was a plan from God that this child lived. And it was going to live, even without a doctor to help you, you were going to be a mother, and a mother always protects her child. And your memories trailed back to the women who gave birth to you, she was never a mother, she was just a women, an stranger… and nothing else and nothing more.

‘Pleas—’ You hissed on the door, punching it with all your might. ‘Help me, my water brok—’

Screams filled the room, and you fell to your knees, the pain from that hit was nothing compared to the one between your legs. You pushed yourself up and walk to the corner, there you had everything prepares for your shower, and now it had a new purpose,  the shower could wait. The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes like hours, so much pain coming from your body and a lot of fluids running down your legs. A trembling hand reached in between them, and you could feel it… the head was coming, almost crowning.

No medical or prenatal care, no new clothes for the unborn, no nothing. Not even help for the delivery, how in the world could you take care of the baby without even being able to take care of yourself? Giving birth was not the easiest thing in a normal environment, but being held hostage on a house far away from home, locked on the basement and with nothing but yourself was hell.

Tears were streaming down your e/c eyes, but you pushed, and you moved your body to a relatively comfortable position and kept pushing. And you remember that one video you watched before the two blue marks appeared, scared of the reality, but now you were grateful of it.

There you had hot water, and towels, all there for the new life…

And ready or not, the baby was coming.

You were going to have a child.

You were not a child anymore.

NEXT

[bigskydreaming]

@princeescaluswords tagged me in a fanfic ask meme, and I’m loling at how few of the questions I can actually answer, because I swear I’ve literally forgotten more fandoms than most people will ever have. And I’ve probably written a good couple million words of fanfic all in total....

I know with just my first fandom alone, Roswell, I was in that one writing regularly for about three years and wrote and published probably a million words between the six or so ‘big fics’ I wrote......21 Down topped out at just over 200K, my Paradise Lost trilogy was probably a little longer as I think Genesis and Exodus were both around 80K and Revelations was probably closer to 100K. Riders of the Storm was around 120K.....Passage to Dawn I never actually finished because I scrapped it halfway through and started over.....and my revised version left off at around 50K I think, but the previous version before that had gotten up to 100K......and then I honestly can’t remember the names of my other two big fics at the moment, lmfao, I just know I had one more that was an amnesia trope fic and one that was....oh! Never mind, just remembered. The Long Dark Night of the Soul was one of my shorter ones, probably somewhere between 60-80K.

But yeah, that was just my first fandom alone......but fandom was a little different then, like in the sense that nobody was really writing posts about meta or episode or character analysis......Roswell fandom existed almost entirely on various messageboards and linked sites created by the community. It was years before Ao3 of course, and while ff.net was around, Roswell was one of those fandoms that just never congregated around it......people posting Roswell fics on ff.net were the outliers, the majority of fandom was centered around sites like roswellfanatics.net, crashdown.com and my personal site/board of choice to hang out and post at, polarattraction.com. I’m pretty sure all of those sites have been defunct for years, and I wish I’d done a better job of saving some of my own fics at least, lol. But point is, the fandom was geared just towards the writing and consumption of fanfic more than anything else......so if you were writing something, it was either a fic itself, or a comment on somebody else’s fic, lol. 

Anyway, was just reviewing my various past fandoms, the ones I could remember, and thought of Dark Angel fandom, which I haven’t thought of in forever. Which is kinda funny to me, actually, considering my focus in DA fandom was pretty much exactly my focus in Batfandom - the found family feels.

LOL. Like, I was never one of the better known writers in DA fandom given that my focus was not really the same as most of fandom’s. DA fandom was largely split into two camps locked in eternal ship war - Logan/Max and Alec/Max. I had by this time ‘evolved’ to the point of looking at this and just snobbishly intoning “I do not care for the Straightness of this all and thus I choose to Abstain from the conflict” so there was that at least.....but yeah, thing was, personally, I was in Dark Angel fandom for the found family feels. Max’s eternal search for her siblings she’d been raised with but lost track of when they escaped from Manticore as children.....like that was the good stuff, that was what drew me in and kept me under lock and key until I’d banged out a good couple years’ worth of constant fic writing about her and her siblings before I moved on.

But while Max’s search for her siblings was the catalyst and central plot of the first season of Dark Angel, fandom pretty much only ever took off with the introduction of Alec in the second season, when it became an either/or choice between Alec and Logan. And with most of the second season moving away from Max’s search for her family to focus more on the larger big-picture plots, combined with the fact that most of Max’s siblings never actually made an appearance onscreen.....understandably, they didn’t end up occupying too much of a role in most of fandoms’ fics or interests.

Anyway, like I said, I churned out a shit ton of DA fanfic in a pretty short period of time....my single most popular fic was probably one about transgenics racing to find a cure when they realize they’d been genetically engineered to all ‘expire’ by a certain age, since their creators had no use for genetically engineered super-soldiers past the prime of their lives.

But my personal fave bits of writing, and the series I reeeeeeally regret not saving and wish I could find again, like, there was this one series of one-shots (ranging from a couple thousand words long to some that were about 20-30K long) written about each of Max’s siblings.....all fifteen of them, lol. Jondy’s was the first one I wrote, and one of the first things I wrote in that fandom, and then I just added new stories to that particular series up until Jack’s, the very last one a couple years later....which I THINK was the last thing I ever wrote/posted in that fandom.

And since we only ever met about half of these characters on the show, and most of them only for an episode each, for the most part they were blank slates and the equivalent of writing OCs......and so I’ll always have a soft spot for my time in DA fandom solely because of how many people told me my version of Max’s various siblings was like, the definitive version for them and what they based their own fics or takes on her siblings on. Swoon. Like, that’s my favorite kind of compliment, especially in fanfic writing.

So that series was my Big Thing even if it wasn’t my most popular or well-known fic, and the various stories in it were weird and whimsical and largely experimental. Because part of the point of fic writing for me instead of writing original fic is its like....fanfic is often the place where I just get weird with my writing and try new things even just stylistically. See what works and what doesn’t, etc.

Anyway, kinda curious if there’s anyone out there who was in Dark Angel fandom at all to any degree, or if any of these sound familiar or if anyone remembers reading them.

Like, so Jondy was Max’s sister who we never met in canon but Max talked about often as being her favorite sibling, and her story in this series was called “Little Lightning Girl.” In it she was a stripper slash vigilante, who used her job to take note of predatory guys who then she preemptively scared away from her coworkers or ran totally out of town. I forget how it went exactly, but that one was written as though it was all her stream of consciousness, and she had to my mind a kind of chaotic, whimsical sort of nature, so there was something in there like: 

“Call me little lightning girl, for I’ve lightning in my veins. My hair is always frizzy, my steps all flicker-shimmy-shake. But when I strike, boom, clap, I’m thunder in reverse - by the time you hear the rumble, its already too late. That was you hitting the ground. Don’t hurry getting up. I can wait.”

And then Zane’s story was called “Zen and the Art of Not Breaking Your Customer’s Fucking Face (remember, its bad for business).”

Brin’s was “I Wasn’t Born Yesterday (but yesterday, I remember being very small).”

Zack’s was “Rules For When The Sky Is Falling (and this time it isn’t your fault).”

Syl’s was “The Kind of Girl You Bring Home to Meet Your Parents (when you’ve got the kind of parents that need killing).”

Ben’s was “They keep telling me I’m crazy (I say its the world that’s gone mad).”

Tinga’s was “A Storybook Kind of Princess (with a Grimm kind of happily ever after)” and Krit’s was “The Good Die Young, So Boy, You Better Be Bad.”

Kavi’s was “I Never Learned How To Play Ball (striking out comes naturally).”

Vada’s was “Chase Me To The Desert and Watch Me Live, I Bet I’ll Thrive (you better believe I was born to survive).”

And then Seth’s was “All Her Brothers’ Keeper (you keep your secrets and I’ll keep the watch).”

And though technically not escapees with the rest of them, I am anal and a completionist, so of course I had to write ones for Eva, Jack and Jace too. 

Eva’s was “Big Sisters Know Best (so when I say I’ll die for you, just say thank you and live).” 

Jace’s was “Leopards Never Change Their Spots (but why worry about my 5% leopard when I’m 10% shark). 

And Jack’s was “Shelter The Innocent (but don’t look at the boy without shelter and say that boy, he’s no good).”

Anyway, been randomly thinking about those today now. Well, not randomly since I can follow the train of thought that led me to thinking about them, but you know what I mean. Its just kinda funny to me that I do remember those particular stories so well when there’s entire other fandoms I can barely remember writing in at all. And DA fandom wasn’t even one I was in all that long, ever knew too many other people in, or like....idk. I definitely, definitely have written much more well read and frequently commented upon stories than that fairly random little series of almost-OCs, but for some reason it stuck around in my head a lot longer and a lot more clearly than a ton of other stuff.

[kyle-writes]

The Neighborhood: Part 2

The ichor reflected my light like snake scales shining in the sun, it looked rubbery and sticky, but when I knelt to poke the nearest chunk with my finger it gave way like a kind of light cream substance. Foamy. It didn’t even stick to my nail, dripping off in thick drops that congealed instantly after coming in contact with its lump.

“We’re extending the scene from the Larsons’ to encompass this area too,” Al said as he came up behind me. “Did you…? Milly, you really oughta get some gloves before you go muck-diving.”

I stood up, shaking my hand off instinctively, “Right, right. Get your light out, we’re going down there. Don’t slip on the shit.”

There were over a dozen creaking, unsteady stairs to go down, and with each step the darkness seemed to press down on us harder. As we reached the bottom I could hear officers and technicians setting things up above me. Al’s light flashed past me and to the left, deeper into the basement.

“Holy shit,” I heard him say under his breath, there was a mixture of fear and awe in his voice.

I followed his light with my own as we both hit the bottom and I instantly understood how he felt. The walls were absolutely coated in the black ichor while the floor was almost untouched with the stuff. It was as if there had been an explosion. From the center of the floor a spider’s web of cracks worked their way outwards to the walls, and there was something else too. Something in the center of the web.

Al found the light switch and with a soft click the entire room was finally lit up. We gasped in tandem. The thing in the center of the room…was the top of someone’s head. Their eyes were bugged out and blood red, and it was tilted back just enough to be able to see the top arch of their screaming mouth. Teeth were missing, and the dark hair was matted with a mixture of blood and the black substance.

“Oh Christ,” I heard Al dry heaving behind me. I didn’t blame him for it, I was barely holding it together myself. “T-That’s Mrs. O’Neil. Rhonda O’Neil.”

“Or what’s left of her.” I said. It came out harsher than I meant it to, but that’s how I was when I got uncomfortable. My heart felt like it was going to explode, it was all I could hear. Over my years in the homicide department I had seen plenty of bad things, nasty things. I’d had to learn very quickly that people, at their core, could be absolutely horrific to one another. It looked as if Mrs. O’Neil had been buried up to her mouth in concrete, but of course that was physically impossible. The terror on what I could see of her face told a tale of intense pain.

Our heads turned with a shot as someone appeared at the top of the stairs. Gil.

“You’re both white as sheets, what’s going on?” He began to descend.

“Stop.” I barked, and his eyes went wide as he froze between steps. “You’re going to need to bring some excavating equipment down here with you.”

 I wish I hadn’t been there when they “extracted” what was left of Rhonda O’Neil from the floor, but I was. It was my job to be. I imagine Gil was used to that kind of carnage, all I knew is that I didn’t want to be. It was all clinical to him.

First it was discovered that Mrs. O’Neil was not really entombed within the concrete. It was just the top half of her head, which Gil peeled away from the floor with a sickening wet sound that threatened to kill my appetite for the rest of my life. Several of her remaining teeth fell from her mouth as Gil carefully brought the top half of the victim’s head up to get a closer look at. Thin strands of the black substance oozed down onto the floor into little puddles, which broke off into tiny streams that flowed down and away into the cracks in the concrete.

One of Gil’s boys was holding something that looked almost like a radar gun used by officers out hunting speeders, but it was some new technology that could analyze contents of certain substances on the spot without having to disturb evidence. XRF-something or other.

The man looked to be about half Gil’s age, lacking many of the age lines and overall grey-ness the job brought along with it. “Sir, I can’t get a reading on this black stuff. The analyzer just keeps giving me error messages.”

Gil made a “hrmmph” noise, which the tech apparently understood to mean Gil had heard him.

“I still want to get the imager in here and see if we can find anything beneath the floor before we go randomly tearing it up,” Gil said, carefully bagging the remains of Mrs. O’Neil’s head.

“So does that mean we can get the fuck out of here now?” I asked, making no attempt to hide my desire to escape.

Gil pulled the dirtied latex gloves from his hands and used his index finger to push his glasses up his nose. “Yeah, we can take it from here. I imagine you’ve got a lot of questions for the gathering mob outside.”

With Al at my heels, I got out of the house as fast as I could trying to look like that wasn’t what I was trying to do. The fresh, damp air of the approaching evening was heaven on my face and to my lungs. The canopy of clouds had grown darker and denser, signs of an oncoming storm. Normally I would enjoy this brief twilight combination of weather and time of day, but any hopes for having a pleasant day, or even month, were long gone.

Gil was right, the crowd was still thick with murmuring civilians, and more than a few had their phones out recording everything we were doing. And the news vans were back. I frowned. Someone had leaked our newest discovery already, but at least Chief Albrecht was on the scene now---he could handle the media. It was his forte.

Without a word, I pushed under the tape and through the crowd, ignoring all questions thrown at me. I didn’t see Al peel away, but I was glad to be able to take a moment for myself. I stopped at the curb and leaned against one of the dozens of patrol cars that had taken up residence on Washington Street. It wasn’t quite dark enough for the streetlights to come on yet so I could still see up and down the neighborhood without much trouble.

Washington was one of the bigger neighborhoods in the city, located on the outskirts right at the border of the city limits. Still relatively new, it had that classic middle-class feel. All in all there were forty or so houses all the way up and down. Each painted a shade of off-white, with black tile roofs. There were trees planted in the front and back yards of at least half of them, and those backyards boxed in by privacy fences. The whole thing had been a goldmine for the city, built on a large chunk of land that had been hoarded by a single, wealthy family until the final old man had died two decades ago with no living heir. I’m sure the city was more than willing to pick up the “discarded” property. This all happened when I will still a baby rookie in the academy, so I don’t know all that much else about it.

Suddenly my phone began to vibrate in my pocket, startling me out of my fatigued reverie. This time I actually looked at the name of the caller before picking up. It was my wife.

“Hey, babe,” I started.

But she jumped in right away, “Milly, is everything okay? That…thing going on with Washington Street is all over the news and---,” she was in her worried-mode. Even with all my time on the force, her apprehension and anxiety concerning my safety hadn’t waned one bit.

I told her once, at the beginning, that I would never lie to her. So I didn’t. “It’s only getting worse,” I said in a low tone, and I heard her sigh softly. No doubt she was also seconds away from going back to chewing on her fingernails. “I’ll be home late tonight, probably around midnight or so. Get the kid in bed and don’t worry about me, okay?” Silence. “Lexi?”

Another sigh, this one louder and a bit more annoyed. That was assuring. “Okay, okay. Just…be careful.”

I chuckled, “I will, I promise. I always am.” Somewhere in the distance came the distinct rumble of approaching thunder. “Well, shit. Maybe I’ll be able to get out of it early…”

“I hope so,” Lexi said.

“Is that Mom on the phone?” came a tiny voice. “Tell her I said ‘I love you’!”

Lexi laughed and I felt the weight on my chest lighten just the tiniest of bits.

“Love you too, kiddo.” I said, and I heard Lexi repeat it.

She said something else, but my attention had been ripped away in a fraction of a second by a man suddenly walking by me and heading towards a house that I hadn’t really been paying attention to until that very moment. The front lawn of this house looked as if it hadn’t been mowed in weeks, weeds and dandelions grew tall and unchecked, along with a handful of small white mushrooms. The man approached a lawnmower that had been sitting in the middle of the lawn and dragged it down one house and put it in the garage.

My gut squirmed again and I felt my throat tighten. “I gotta go, babe.” I said into the phone.

Lexi recognized my tone right away, God bless her. “Alright, honey, be careful.”

Small drops of rain began to fall around me as I shoved my phone back into my pocket and approached the neighbor of the house with the neglected lawn. The closer I got to that house, the worse it looked. The paint looked worn and chipped, and the roof was missing several tiles. I counted and it was only five houses down from the Larson place. How did I not notice it before? Had any of us noticed it? I tried to catch a glance inside but the windows were so dirty I couldn’t see inside the pitch dark.

I came onto the neighbor’s driveway just as he was pushing the mower into the little area between boxes that had been carved out for it. “Hey, excuse me…,” the man jumped at my voice.

“O-Oh! You’re one of the detectives here about…,” thunder interrupted him, and suddenly the sky opened up and rain began to pour down in a thick, grey curtain. He motioned for me to step into the garage with him, which I was more than happy to do.

“What can you tell me about your neighbors there,” I pointed to the dilapidated house.

The man, who was frighteningly skinny and pale a sheet wrung his hands together, thin tongue flicking out across dried lips. “Ah, you see, Ma’am…” He swallowed hard, and I could see his Adam’s apple twitch. “Guy who lives there’s a shut-in, haven’t seen hide nor hair of him in the last five years, ever since his wife died.”

I pulled my small notepad from my jacket’s inner pocket, along with the fancy ink pen Lexi got me for my birthday last year. The wind howled outside and leaves danced along the street. “Tell me all about him.”

[hagenmacy]

“But I saw you do it!”

Been obsessing over the Mary Poppins Returns soundtrack, and randomly thought I'd write this little one-shot. Inspired by my musings for just how does Mary Poppins operate? Obviously she arrives more to save the parents than the children. Does she only work with middle-class city kids? How does she sneak her way into homes that can’t even afford a nanny?

            When she came down from the sky it felt like the world itself had slowed down. You were sitting on the porch, watching the fireworks billow over the tree line. When Mother told you she hadn’t been able to save enough to go to the carnival this New Year’s, there’d been a fight. You both shouted. You watched them alone this year.

           But then, as those fiery tendons of light and color exploded over the horizon, one in particular caught your attention. From the burst of colorful violet flames, one stream of fire soared higher and higher, farther out from its sisters. The show went on. You realized this one errant flame was flying in the direction of your farm.

           This purple beam of sparks and smoke didn’t fling itself in the direction of your home, but glided smoothly. You thought of the egg races the children at the carnival were playing, trying to balance a delicate egg on the edge of a spoon. What’s more, and this was the most abnormal detail of all, there was a person being carried along by that flame—a lady, dressed elegantly and with a proper floral hat perched upon her head.

           You shot up. Yes, the fire was finally fizzing out. The purple streams crackled and hissed. The lady---she was still quite a bit up from the ground. Would she fall? No, suddenly she took hold of something to their side and raised it up.  An umbrella whisked through the air, carried only by the breeze. The lady glided until she reached the ground on the other side of your gate.

           “Your mother is home, I trust?” said the woman as she walked towards the home. “Do go on, fetch her for me.”

           “I, I…I…”

           She looked to you with a cocked brow. “Eye?Eye? Nose? Mouth? That’s quite enough of that. Spit-spot!”

           Something in the woman’s assertive tone made you leap back. You turned and rushed through the front door, almost afraid to look back. Mother was slumped over a cutting board looking exhausted. When you told her there was a fancy lady at the door who wanted to speak with her, there was a tired groan. When you’d both returned to the front door, you saw this beautiful woman had already let herself in.

           “You are the lady of the house, yes?” she said, setting her garish carpet bag onto a nearby chair.

           Your mother brushed a hair from her face. “Y-yes?” she shifted uncomfortably “Are you…here about my bills, because—”

           “Heavens no.” said the lady, looking over the messy home with a scrunched nose. “I’ve come to look after your child.”

           Your mother looked agape. “I beg your pardon?”

           The beautiful lady had begun removing her gloves, which she placed in the carpet bag. She turned, looking your mother in the eyes for the first time.

           “You did advertise for someone to mind your child, did you not?” A hand reached back and dipped into the bag, pulling out a single small piece of newspaper clipping. “I have the article in question here, just as it was published—”

           “Oh that, yes…” Mother was quick to interrupt, though the breathy turn of her voice showed this was a topic she’d rather not like to vocalize. “That was when I still had my job. I haven’t been working for almost six months now.”

           “I see.” came the reply. “In any event, having to look after a child as well as search for employment are, at times, competing interests, I should suspect.”

           “I know, I—”

           “You can’t possibly do both all at once. Hence I’ve made it a point to answer your advertisement.”

           “You don’t understand—”

           “It is essential that I have my own accommodations in the house. I shall also require every second Tuesday off.”

           Your mother stepped forward, as though closer proximity would make her words tougher to ignore. “I cannot afford to hire anyone right now! I barely have enough to provide for just me.”

           While the two ladies spoke, you had slunk out of their way towards the corner. While your mother spoke, the proper-looking woman had moved to a mirror on the far wall, where she patted an errant hair into submission. Your eyes fell on the chair where she had placed her carpet bag…and something else? Yes. An umbrella—what’s more, an umbrella with a fat, green carved parrot’s head for a handle. How curious.

           Your attention was brought back by the harsh, practical footsteps the lady made as she walked towards your mother. She regarded her with stiff lips and halfed eyes.

           “Indeed.” came her first response. “In any event, I’ve come all this way and I shall see if there’s work to be found here yet.”

           “I can’t—"

           “Speaking of work, I’m going to put you under a trial period. If you’ve not found a job by the end of the month, I’ll be on my way.”

           Your mother’s mouth searched for the words, and her eyes fixated on this strange, eccentric person. “You mean, without requiring pay…?”

           The lady began undoing her dark, crisp coat. “First thing’s first, I’ll see to the chores of the house. Namely, dinner.”

           “Oh, I’ve already started that.”

           “Really!Outrageous. A tired and ragged person like you cooking dinner while your child sits and watches fireworks on the porch? Honestly.”

           Your job dropped at the insinuation. Mother didn’t want your help cooking! And besides, it was tradition for you and her to watch the fireworks every year. Her deciding to stay in and cook instead wasn’t your fault.

           Still, you lowered your head. You thought of how hard your mother sighed any time she had to clean up, or make the meals, or remind you of your own tasks. Sometimes you were upset that Mother didn’t play with you as much or talk with you before bed the way she used to. A year ago she was always excitable and fun to be around, but lately she’d slown down. Maybe you should have offered to help with dinner. Maybe you should’ve been offering a lot more than you had been these past few months.

           Suddenly, the beautiful woman tossed her coat over to the chair, where it landed just beside the carpet bag. You saw the beautiful detail of the design, and just how clean and well-made it was.

           “Now,” continued the lady. “before dinner is ready, I should think you’d like to take a nap. It’s awfully late and you look exhausted.” She said her words bluntly, with no care as to how they came across.

           Mother grimaced just a tiny bit, but a flash of something shimmer across her eyes. Was it relief?

           “That would…be lovely. Thank you, yes. I’d like that.” Her words came quietly, a great relieving exhale. She turned with her arms raised, almost swimming towards the stairs. When she’d trudged up to the landing, she looked back to you. Her eyes seemed questioning.

           The proper lady was also looking at you. Her eyes moved from your top to your bottom, then back again, and again. With each scan her frown drooped deeper.

           When she broke her gaze she did it by turning back to your mother. “We’ll call you when it’s ready.”

           Mother nodded and returned to her trek. You were left alone in the living room with the eccentric woman.

           Then, from somewhere beside you:

           “The looks of this one! Chews on their sleeves and won’t help with the housework! Oy, help us!”

           “Yes,” said the woman. “We’ll have to see what can be done about them.”

           You jerked to the side. Who else was here!? You nearly fell the floor in shock when you saw the jaw of the little green parrot begin flapping.

           “Well you sure have your work cut out for you, Mary Poppins.”

           “Indeed.”

           You jerked again, looking back at the beautiful woman. “Mary Poppins? Is that your name?”

           Mary Poppins did not answer. Calmly, she walked over to the chair where she folded up her coat and placed it within the carpet bag. You crossed your arms, annoyed at having been ignored.

           “It sounds very silly.”

           Mary Poppins stiffened right up, giving you a look that was clearly collected, but quite possibly the coldest and most condescending expression you’d ever seen a person make.

           “I am very silly.” she responded.

           Now it was your turn to look her up and down. She looked like a normal, pretty lady. Still…there was something off about her. You reached your hand up to scratch your head. It boggled your mind how many strange things had somehow happened to you in a span of nearly ten minutes.

           “Where did you come from?” you asked her. “Do you live in the sky?”

           Mary Poppins gave you a quizzical look. “What a strange and ridiculous question.”

           “I saw you fly up to the house, though. You came down with the fireworks.”

           “Honestly, the very idea of it.” Mary Poppins rolled her eyes.

           You stomped your feet in frustration. “But I saw you do it!”

           “Come along, please. It is time to start dinner.” She turned away and started for the door to the kitchen. You began to follow before stopping about halfway.

           “Why did you come here, Mary Poppins?” you asked.

           From behind you came the voice of the parrot: “Mary Poppins doesn’t explain anything! That’s something you’d better learn quick.”

           “Honestly, when did you get so chatty?” she responded with another eye roll.

           “I’m tired of keeping my beak shut. I want to know what you have planned for this family! I know there’s a painting of the beach hanging in the bedroom, so I’m sure you’ll have an outing with a talking dolphin or something like that. I’m sure you’re going to take the child to that circus in the sky instead of that ruddy carnival down the street. Oh, and please tell me we aren’t going to all four corners of the globe with that infernal magic compass of yours, I can’t stand all that travel at once. Oh! And I’m certain while everyone’s been out of the kitchen a great big restaurant staffed by animals has taken up shop just behind that door hasn’t it?”

           By the time the parrot had finished talking, you realized your mouth was hanging wide open. Your head darted around to look at Mary Poppins, whose face was as still as stone. Once again, she rolled her eyes.

           “I am merely here to provide a service to a woman who advertised that she needed the help. I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, all of those were entirely incorrect.”

           A noise broke out from behind the kitchen door. It was a long, sonorous noise that rattled the whole house—you recognized it immediately as the vibrating sound of an elephant trumpeting. You looked to Mary Poppins. For the first time, she made a smile.

           “Well, almost all.”

[newstfionline]

Monday, April 19, 2021

As Covid Death Toll Passes 3 Million, a Weary World Takes Stock (NYT) Three million lives: That is roughly equivalent to losing the population of Berlin, Chicago or Taipei. The scale is so staggering that it sometimes begins to feel real only in places like graveyards. The world’s Covid-19 death toll surpassed three million on Saturday, according to a New York Times database. More than 100,000 people have died of Covid-19 in France. The death rate is inching up in Michigan. Morgues in some Indian cities are overflowing with corpses. And as the United States and other rich nations race to vaccinate their populations, new hot spots have emerged in parts of Asia, Eastern Europe and Latin America. The deaths are the most tragic aspect of the pandemic, but they aren’t the only cost. Many millions more have been sickened by the virus, some with effects that may last for years or even a lifetime. Livelihoods have been ruined. Global work and travel have been disrupted in profound and potentially long-lasting ways.

Ontario retracts new restrictions that drew the ire of many (AP) Ontario’s premier retracted restrictions Saturday that banned playgrounds and allowed police to require anyone not at home to explain why they’re out after a backlash from police forces, health officials and the public. The pandemic restrictions imposed by Canada’s most populous province immediately ran into opposition as police departments insisted they wouldn’t use new powers to randomly stop pedestrians or motorists and health experts complained the rules focus on outdoor activities rather than more dangerous indoor settings. Ontario Premier Doug Ford ‘s government announced Friday it was giving police authority to require anyone not at home to explain why they’re out and provide their address. Ford’s Friday announcement limited outdoor gatherings to those in the same household and closed playgrounds and golf courses. The decisions sparked widespread criticism in a province already on lockdown. Restaurants and gyms are closed as is in-class schooling. Most nonessential workers are working from home.

Two blocks from the Federal Reserve, a growing encampment of the homeless (Washington Post) As he drove past the intersection of 21st and E streets in Northwest Washington, a 68-year-old man peered through the window, struck by an encampment of homeless people here that grew from 10 tents to 20 in the past year. Then 30. Now 40. The people living in those tents had no idea that their burgeoning village kept this man, Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell, up at night, or that he kept thinking about them as he drove two blocks south to his office. Powell doesn’t know their names or backstories, either. But what he saw was clear. A visceral reminder of the uneven economic recovery. Right there in the Fed’s shadow. It’s in these brief interludes—when the most powerful person in the economy passes some of the most powerless—that Powell grapples with one of the most vexing economic conundrums facing the central bank, and the country, 14 months into the coronavirus crisis. How can the Fed have done so much—slashed interest rates, propped up the stock market, bought up $3.3 trillion in treasuries and mortgage backed securities—yet parts of the economy remain so broken? Powell referenced the tent city three times in the span of seven days, including in a ″60 Minutes” interview and on a panel hosted by the International Monetary Fund. During a talk with the Economic Club of Washington D.C. on Wednesday, Powell mentioned the encampment again, saying the homeless should be part of any assessment of the economy’s strength.

As mask mandates end, Oregon bucks trend with permanent rule (AP) As states around the country lift COVID-19 restrictions, Oregon is poised to go the opposite direction—and many residents are fuming about it. A top health official is considering indefinitely extending rules requiring masks and social distancing in all businesses in the state. The proposal would keep the rules in place until they are “no longer necessary to address the effects of the pandemic in the workplace.” Michael Wood, administrator of the state’s department of Occupational Safety and Health, said the move is necessary to address a technicality in state law that requires a “permanent” rule to keep current restrictions from expiring. But the idea has prompted a flood of angry responses, with everyone from parents to teachers to business owners and employees crying government overreach. Nearly 60,000 residents signed a petition against the proposal. Opponents also are upset government officials won’t say how low Oregon’s COVID-19 case numbers must go, or how many people would have to be vaccinated, to get the requirements lifted in a state that’s already had some of the nation’s strictest safety measures.

US West prepares for possible 1st water shortage declaration (AP) The man-made lakes that store water supplying millions of people in the U.S. West and Mexico are projected to shrink to historic lows in the coming months, dropping to levels that could trigger the federal government’s first-ever official shortage declaration and prompt cuts in Arizona and Nevada. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation released 24-month projections this week forecasting that less Colorado River water will cascade down from the Rocky Mountains through Lake Powell and Lake Mead and into the arid deserts of the U.S. Southwest and the Gulf of California. Water levels in the two lakes are expected to plummet low enough for the agency to declare an official shortage for the first time, threatening the supply of Colorado River water that growing cities and farms rely on. It comes as climate change means less snowpack flows into the river and its tributaries, and hotter temperatures parch soil and cause more river water to evaporate as it streams through the drought-plagued American West.

Australia, largely free of COVID-19, in no hurry to reopen borders—PM (Reuters) Australia is no hurry to reopen its international borders and risk the country’s nearly coronavirus-free lifestyle, Prime Minister Scott Morrison said on Sunday. Australia closed its borders to all non-citizens and non-residents in March 2020 and has been permitting only limited international arrivals in recent months, mainly its citizens returning from abroad. The border closure, together with snap lockdowns, swift contact tracking and high community compliance with health measures, have made Australia one of the world’s most successful countries in curbing the pandemic, limiting coronavirus cases to under 29,500 infections and 910 deaths. For months now, except for some short snap lockdowns, Australians have been able to dine out, gather nearly freely and stop wearing face masks in most places.

For Syrian refugees in Lebanon, a tough Ramadan (AP) It was messy and hectic in Aisha al-Abed’s kitchen, as the first day of Ramadan often is. Food had to be on the table at precisely 7:07 p.m. when the sun sets and the daylong fast ends. What is traditionally a jovial celebration of the start of the Muslim holy month around a hearty meal was muted and dispirited for her small Syrian refugee family. As the 21-year-old mother of two worked, with her toddler daughter in tow, reminders of life’s hardships were everywhere: In the makeshift kitchen, where she crouched on the ground to chop cucumbers next to a single-burner gas stove. In their home: a tent with a concrete floor and wooden walls covered in a tarp. And, definitely, in their iftar meal—rice, lentil soup, french fries and a yogurt-cucumber dip; her sister sent over a little chicken and fish. “This is going to be a very difficult Ramadan,” al-Abed said. “This should be a better meal ... After a day’s fast, one needs more nutrition for the body. Of course, I feel defeated.” Ramadan, which began Tuesday, comes as Syrian refugees’ life of displacement has gotten even harder amid their host country Lebanon’s economic woes. The struggle can be more pronounced during the holy month, when fasting is typically followed by festive feasting to fill empty stomachs.

U.S. embassy to withdraw staff as Chad rebels advance (Reuters) The United States has ordered its non-essential staff in Chad to leave the African country as rebel fighters approached the capital on Sunday after early election results showed President Idriss Deby on course to extend his three-decade rule. “Due to their growing proximity to N’Djamena and the possibility for violence in the city, non-essential U.S. government employees have been ordered to leave Chad by commercial airline,” the U.S. state department said in a statement. The British government on Saturday urged its citizens to leave because, it said, two armed convoys from the rebel Front for Change and Concord in Chad (FACT) were advancing towards the capital.

[siegfriedens]

“we’re alone now, you could kiss me.” +annamiles

send my muse “we’re alone now, you could kiss me.” for their reaction, starring anna hwang and miles im !!

If anything, Anna definitely had herself for a cursed soul, somehow still trying to find her way playing online games for a living at the age of twenty-one and managing to find the time of the day to make her life a complete, maddening mess. There was no possible way there wasn’t someone up there watching her make the worst decisions that could ever cross her mind and laughing very loudly at the sight. The Welsh girl was too young to figure her own life out, though she was forced to get her days going, reason enough to illustrate why the past year had been the worst nightmare to ever leave dreamland.

In just one year, there was no day Anna hadn’t thought about giving it all up. Her family and friends said she was at her career high, so young and already representing a big team, being the captain, even. She had followers, her numbers were out of this world perfect, she studied at one of the most well known sports academy of the whole country and she felt like complete piece of shit. When the tournaments were over and she wasn’t going on live streams for eight straight hours, she would cry over spilled milk for even more time. Her decisions went on like movies in her head, and she felt so, so betrayed that she even dared to think she was being punished for some mean thing she did in the past.

Anna was not the romantic type. She knew she had too much on her plate, playing League of Legends professionally at such a young age. Yet, it was almost pitiably funny how she ran her mouth not only once, but twice over the last year. Silly girl fooled herself twice and, even after some months, it stung like an open wound, bleeding out nonstop without any sign of getting better.

First, she was too ahead of herself. It called her and she gave in without fighting, powerless at the first notion of love she got outside her family’s embrace. Anna dove in head first just to get her heart broken after feeling used for both her body and her silly conception of love. It was probably dumb of her to believe it was love in the first place, but she believed it until the last second, until she saw him with another guy. Until she noticed he always had someone else, even when they were laying naked in bed together. Until she got awful, hurtful things thrown to her face. Until the last second, she believed her heart, but that guy from the football team made sure he left her with nothing but pieces trying to stick back to each other in a sad pace.

Then, there was another guy. He was younger, got her like no one else did and even played the same games she did. Anna liked him, of course, but was still heartbroken from the football player as the wound was still raw and it stung every time she still pictured them together, even though she knew he was a complete jerk. Those memories reminded her how stupid she was for believing her heart, for giving in too easily, for loving in the first place. Negative, hateful thoughts filled her mind and made her cry nights on, all night long. Even though she liked the new, younger boy that got her like no one else did, things just wouldn't and didn’t work out. They broke up just as soon as they got together. She felt bad for him, for she promised her love and couldn’t make it up for what she said. It hurt her, to hurt people, but she had been bleeding for so long she saw her sense of humanity dripping away.

Truth was, Anna didn’t allow herself to feel. She did it, of course, but tried to shut it down as soon as she noticed her heart skipping a beat or two. She turned off from the world completely and her life was nothing but a boring, repetitive routine. It sounded like she was a psycho, but being completely not human was her way to keep living. Anna knew that life was worth living and it wasn’t all lost at the age of twenty-one, so she was willing to try, even if that meant working her ass off like a madwoman and socially isolating herself out of free will.

Life was finally getting back on tracks when she met Miles. She was top of the league for once, had a wide number of viewers at her daily live streams and was still team captain, untouchable and guiding her teammates with great measure. It was right after some opening ceremony at the field, a place she wanted to leave as soon as she saw her past before her, but it didn’t take time for Im to have her attention and take her breath away without asking for permission. She lost balance and her heart skipped that same beat or two. She left as soon as their eyes met from across the bleachers.

And just like that, he was everywhere to be seen. They wouldn’t stop bumping into each other and, once again, Anna tightly believed she was being a fool for feeling, reason why she never brought it up, nor showed any kind of interest. She liked being around him, though - she wasn’t doing anything with the feelings she knew she carried, so watching his games and a little chatting would mean no harm. Also, being around him meant getting to know him to a certain extent. Even if she was not making moves on him, she wanted to know his favorite color, if he liked eating greasy burgers like she did, whether he enjoyed summer or winter better, if he was single or not. She didn’t mind hiding her feelings, though - he probably knew he was the one on her mind every night just at how she looked at him in the eyes, how she smiled at him or how she didn’t even care that he picked on her for the smallest things there were. Miles was not going to happen and Anna was somewhat in agreement with the universe on it.

As they grew accustomed to each other’s company, Anna ditched her late afternoon practices to watch him play the last few minutes of his daily practice match. She would always say it was just to make fun if he fell down on his ass or missed the ball, but she doubted he believed her lie. To be honest with herself, the Welsh girl didn’t even bother to keep the score. She was there for Miles and Miles only.

He was completely soaked in sweat once the match reached its end, reason why she pinched her nose as soon as he came near her. His team lost, and he owned her a big, fat bucket of ice cream. They were hitting the store just by the campus as soon as he was done fixing things back in the lockers, so she settled down on a bench by its door to wait on him. Of course, it wouldn’t be Anna if she didn’t threaten him on the spot. “You take more than ten minutes and I will leave your arse alone, boy.” She wouldn’t dare to leave him anytime soon.

Twenty minutes was the limit. Even when the mobile game she was playing did the job at distracting her from his long taking, she was anxious for their date, if she could call getting free ice cream a date. The hallway was already empty and she was quite sure all the boys from the team had already left, all in a hurry to relax as they could. There was no sign of Miles and, from what she could hear, the locker room was silent, completely. She shoved her phone on her back pocket before sighing one last time. Lord, this boy makes me make some quite awful decisions, eh, her voice echoed on her head before she got in the gloomy boys lockers. Anna wasted no time in calling his name, following his voice as he answered her in a heartbeat.

Before she could even get mad at him for just standing there, already fixed up but randomly going through his phone like they had no plans for the evening, her brows furrowed at his words. Not that she didn’t want to kiss him - she wanted to, badly. Anna just didn’t believe all that, all of a sudden, all in one day. She was speechless and there was no nonchalant façade that could hide her true colors. “I cannot believe you now, Miles. This is not funny at all.” Despite her own statement, she laughed, nervously. Anna folded her arms in order to look for some warmth within herself as goosebumps rose her skin when he stepped forward, subtracting the rest of distance that still dared to separate them.

Her curious gaze found his face, searching for some real reassurance that what they were doing was real. If she held herself back once, she felt as free as the wind at that very moment, caged by his touch in a no way out between him and the sink marble. With her hands still shaky, Anna hugged him from his neck, pulling Miles even closer but still hesitating when she was about to kiss him. She thought she was giving up for a second, but he made sure she stuck to her mind when he closed the little remaining gap between their lips. As expected, she kissed him softly, hands tightly wrapped on his neck as she smiled into the kiss every once in a while, giving herself no time to breathe nor think and kissing him with no intention to stop.

With one final peck on his swollen lips, Anna broke it off but didn’t go any far from his touch. She was still there, letting herself be held and even pressed her warm, small body to his, wishing he would never leave, wishing that moment would not come to an end. One of her hands slid up his face, caressing him on the cheek. “We’re alone now, you could buy me mango sorbet like you promised you would.” Anna spoke against his lips and smiled at the end. And just like that, she wondered how it would be to kiss him with the sweetness of her favorite dessert on his tongue.

[2paperairplanesswift]

Once upon a time a 17 year old English girl fell in love with a talented but relatively unknown country singer by the name of Taylor Swift. PLOT TWIST: 11 years later she is one of the most successful artists in history and I just spent my Friday night hanging out with her at her house. Wanna know how this happened? I'm going to tell you my story. Get yourself comfy (maybe some cocoa or a nice sweater) and listen up.  I don't claim to be the biggest Taylor Swift fan in the world, but like every Swiftie I would always like to think I am. I have loved Taylor for longer than I can remember and one of my biggest dreams in life has always been to meet her.  On 3rd October 2017 I woke up around 5am as I do every morning, and I turned off my alarm and turned my internet on. I had a few notifications, Facebook messenger, twitter, tumblr....but then there was a DM? I never get twitter DM's, I'm not remotely interesting enough for anyone to want to speak to me, so who was this messaging me? Half asleep and with my eyes still adjusting to the light I opened the DM screen and saw the words 'Taylor Nation'. My whole body froze...that's not what is says is it? I rubbed my eyes and looked again...it was. I clicked on the message and read it quickly. I didn't really take it in, something about a Confidential Event. I dropped my phone onto my chest and looked at the ceiling trying to take in what I had just read. Was I having another Taylor dream ? Somehow I knew I wasn't - the last Taylor dream I had we were eating banana splits in an old railway carriage turned into a diner...i don't even like bananas. Somehow this seemed more plausible.  I closed twitter and decided to ignore it for a second and look at my other notifications. There was a facebook message from my Swiftie friend Bethy telling me to have a good day and reminding me to keep my DMs on....wait, she had one to? I replied back saying 'I have, you too?' and for a solid hour we were messaging eachother in code without either of us admitting what we had received in text...but we both knew.  I sent my details over to Taylor Nation and tried to get ready for work...putting my jeans on back to front, loading the laundry into the machine without adding the washing liquid, walking around my house doing things which usually came naturally but for some reason took extra effort and concentration...something I was lacking.  It was another 10 hours before my DM was replied to saying they would contact me soon. Soon? How soon is soon? Bethy and I continued talking to eachother imagining what it could be. Would we be in a live stream? A music video? Are we being invited to a show? An interview? In the back of our minds we wanted it to be a secret session but it wouldn't be would it? People like us with a handful of followers whose idea of a great Friday night is to play Yahtzee while listening to Taylor Swift on repeat wouldn't get invited, would we?  Luckily soon was only 3 hours and I got a call from a New York number. I was at my parents house so I ran up the stairs to take the call. Some other Swiftie friends in a group chat were messaging me about stuff and I was trying to pick up but notifications were sending my phone into meltdown. Eventually I managed to pick up...then hang up on Taylor Nation. Yes, I hung up on Taylor Swift's management group!!! (Sorry Ali).  I tried to call back but it went to voice mail, so I sent them a DM and went for a wee. Ali called me again while I was on the toilet so I was nervously trying to finish peeing and then ran out to the top of the stairs to take the call. The signal in my parents house was awful and I kept shouting 'huh' and 'hello?' down the phone but Ali was so lovely. She told me I had been picked to be invited to a special event because I was a super fan and I could bring a +1. I knew Bethy was already going and I made a pact with Megan if ever we had an opportunity to meet Taylor we would take eachother. I hastily gave her Megan's details and then passed Alex's on to Bethy for her call before screaming at Alex to keep 13th October clear (for the record he is so difficult). On top of this I was also on holiday that day and so going to this event also meant cutting my holiday short...but this was Taylor Swift!  I found out on Sunday 8th October that we had to meet at a hotel and would be shuttled to the location via bus. Unfortunately my bladder condition flared up on 10th October and I nervously contacted Taylor Nation for details of restroom facilities, scared I wouldn't be able to go. I cried as I waited for an email back but Taylor Nation were so lovely....you could tell they worked for Taylor. I went to the local Dr on holiday and got antibiotics and instructions for bedrest for the 2 days before the event.  My bladder was still bad by early morning day of the event but luckily started clearing up as I travelled from Devon to London.  The day of the event we all met up at Waterloo Station in London before travelling to the hotel where we needed to meet Taylor Nation. I was so nervous that everything was going wrong and had been in so much pain and in denial I was going to be well enough to go that I couldn't believe it was happening.  On the way from the tube to the hotel we saw a funeral directors with 4 gravestones in the window - were they for us when Taylor killed us with her music? A bus went past...the number 13? So typically Taylor!  We arrived at the hotel and checked in. Taylor Nation were in the lobby (we didn't know it was them). The receptionist asked if we were going to the knitting convention? I was confused...was this a cover story? All I kept thinking was 'I knit sweaters yo'....'no, we are going to meet some friends' we told them.  We went upstairs to our room to get ready and when came down we didn't know where to go. There seemed to be some type of line forming around the building and the sheer quantity of red lipstick and floaty dresses told me we were in the right place.  We checked in with Taylor Nation and as I gave Elise my ID she said she liked my passport cover. It's a picture of Taylor with 'grab your passport and my hand' written on it. She confirmed with me that she was the one I had been emailing and I thanked her for her help. I then signed a NDA and got my really cool wristband which has 'United Kingdom' in reputation font on it. And then we headed downstairs to wait for the bus.  I was on bus number 3/4 with Megan- Alex and Bethy had already gone on bus 2. I sat right behind the driver and he had his Satnav programmed with 3 different routes. He took the first route to somewhere random, loaded the second route and followed it, then loaded the third. It was clear he was trying to throw us off. As we entered part of the neighbourhood I��felt very out of place. The cars had personalised plates, the houses were getting bigger, the hustle and bustle of London life seemed to getting further in the distance.  Suddenly the bus stopped in front of a beautiful house...this was it...this was Taylor's house? We were escorted off the bus and down to the side door which lead to a basement. The carpets were bouncy and the soundproof walls were so soft. We waited patiently for a few minutes and then suddenly the door opened and I caught a glimpse of a canvas of the New York skyline....this IS Taylor's house.  We were taken up the stairs to a central entrance hall with a staircase leading up to the top of the house and a corridor towards a large group of people with music playing - her Spotify playlist. The party was in the kitchen. Megan and I walked in to the kitchen, everything was so perfect. Ice buckets full of cans of soda and water, the best chicken bites I have ever tasted, cheese, vegetables and dip, reputation m&ms and cookies with REP on. There was so much I couldn't even see it all. We spotted our friend Bethy over in the corner by the French doors and headed over to speak to her. As we got there so did Scott Swift....the total legend and biggest fangirl ever. I told him I had briefly seen him in Nashville for 1989 and be told me the Mick Jagger story...the same one Taylor tells in interviews. Word for word and he beamed with pride as he told us stories about Taylor. There I was on a Friday night in Taylor Swift's house talking to her dad about 2 megastars as if we were all old friends. And he was really interested in us, not just polite conversation but so enthralled that we loved his daughter as much as he did. True to Scott Swift fashion he gave us some guitar picks as me made his way onto the next group.  I asked Alex where the toilet was and he took me out to the corridor...which hid a restroom behind huge grey panels. It was the nicest smelling toilet I have ever been in...and I have been in a lot! As I sat there peeing in Taylor's toilet and looking at the Jo Malone candle burning by the sink I wondered...how did I get here? Shortly after I left the toilet we were ushered across the entrance hall to a huge rectangular room. Opposite the door were large windows covered over by drapes and a single armchair - Taylor's seat. The floor was adorned with cushion after cushion and Megan and I ran to the closest cushion to Taylor. Megan sat right in front of her and I squeezed in behind. This was a SECRET SESSION!!!! A few minutes later I looked behind as the door opened and in walked a real angel to a round of screams and claps- red lips, natural 'I've just washed it' curly hair, snake boots and a huge smile. She sat down in front of us on the seat and said 'Hi I'm Taylor'. Just like at tour, only this time not to 70,000...to just 100.  And then the mystery was revealed. Taylor Nation hadn't just randomly picked us off of various social media sites - we had been hand selected by Taylor herself who had stalked us for over a year and sent TN our profiles to invite us. It hit me...Taylor picked me?!?! The woman I have been 'stalking' for 11 years had been stalking me too? Out of all the fans in Europe I was one she wanted to meet. I don't think that will ever fully sink in.  Taylor played us her album, telling us little stories about each song - the inspiration, the recording processes, the reactions from friends and family. It was so much to take in but watching Taylor mouth along to the words, act out different expressions and sitting-dance to all of the songs was hilarious - I wasn't in the presence of a celebrity, I was sitting with my best friend appreciating the biggest achievement she will ever have - true happiness. Taylor Swift is truly happy, about life, about her music, about her fans and it is nothing short of magical.  As each song played I really wondered how Taylor could top it, but she did...over and over again. Time went so quickly and it felt like the world's biggest and best slumber party, except we didn't get to sleep over.  At one point it was so hot that Scott Swift had to open all the doors to let the air in. As Taylor played his favourite song from the album she called for him to come and listen and he made a joke that he was actually handing out guitar picks to the neighbours.  After Taylor finished playing the album I looked around. Everyone was so Wonderstruck by what they had heard and I looked at Taylor and she looked so content. I don't know whether she was worried by what our reactions would be but all we had for this album was love...and I hope Taylor knows that.  After the listening session we were handed copies of the reputation magazines while we were waiting for photos. Megan and I were some of the first to go in. I was so focused on getting to the event that I hadn't even thought about what to say. Taylor ran over to Megan and hugged her and started talking about her bright pink hair. She loved it and it had been distracting her all evening. Then Taylor hugged me and I hugged her back like I had never hugged anyone before. She was so tall like a giraffe but with the grace of a swan...and I was me. I whispered 'thank you for inviting me' and she smiled. I didn't want to let go. As so many people were waiting they sort of rushed us with a picture. Taylor grabbed hold of us with her arms around our shoulders and smiled so sincerely at the camera. I wanted to talk to Taylor as I didn't get a chance but we were ushered off. As Megan walked out front if me I went to turn and talk to Taylor when Megan suddenly shouted 'we went to Nashville'. Taylor screamed back excitedly 'I know' with the biggest smile on her face. So...I didn't get to talk to Taylor but she knew we went to Nashville. She really did stalk me. When we left the room we were greeted by Mama Swift. I told her about my mum being terminally ill with Cancer and how she had gotten test results that day but she wanted me to be with Taylor instead. She gave me an extra hug and told me to hug my mum for her. I told my mum later and she started crying. Someone she has never met wished her well...it isn't just Taylor, it is her whole family.  We were taken back to the basement to collect Merch bags with a T-shirt, hat, sticker, pop socket and exclusive secret sessions keyring. It was so lovely of Taylor to give us something more to remember the day.  I got the bus back to the hotel and sat talking to Ali the whole way about the album and Nashville....I may have also invited her to CMA fest next year. By the time I got back to the hotel and collected my belongings (which had been taken from us earlier) I was shattered but I couldn't sleep. I posted on twitter and suddenly my phone couldn't stop vibrating...thousands of retweets and likes. I sat there trying to figure out what happened but I'm still not even sure I believe it myself. It took me 2 whole days to cry...not because I didn't care but because this wasn't the norm. I had stood outside countless radio stations and events before and not met Taylor...I had cried. I had come away from concerts and not been picked for Loft or Club Red etc and cried...but this was different. Not only had I met Taylor, she had picked me. I couldn't cry...I just felt a sense of fulfillment, of achievement, of love. By the time I did cry if wasn't because of what happened; it was because I missed her.  But this is not the end of my story with Taylor...I feel like this is the start of a new chapter. I came away with a whole mind of memories and countless new friends - affectionately known as FANtom Squad. Friday 13 October was the best night of my life; I will never be able to thank Taylor enough and I'll probably never have a chance to say what I wanted to say. But after years of hiding it & toning down this side of my life to please people I can honestly I am not ashamed of who I am because who I am is exactly how @taylorswift likes me. 

[plantbased-elise]

Bat On My Heart

This is my fic for the phandom reverse bang ( @phandomreversebang). look at the amazing @dancuddly who was the artist who gave me the art that inspired me. and @carditawrites my lovely beta writes amazing things of her own. I loved working on this idea of a Baseball!phan AU, and i think it turned out quite like i wanted it to. 

WC: 6337

Art link (will be added in later) Wattpad AO3

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The smell of the grass; the sound of metal hitting the rubber covered cork ball; the cheer of people in the stands: that is what made him feel alive. He breathed in the adrenaline of the field and the smell of sweat in the changing rooms.

Dan Howell loved baseball more than he loved his dog - Colin was possibly the sweetest creature alive so you get the idea. When he was 6, he’d seen a game on TV with his dad, and, intrigued by the game, he’d demanded to be signed up at the nearest baseball club. In Year 7 he signed up for the school’s baseball club. When he started out he was seen as the underdog, the twink, but he lost that reputation fairly quickly when his teammates saw him play.

Soon he was the star player of the school with a reputation that spread throughout the UK. ‘Best batter in high school Baseball’ didn’t go without Howell. But now, in his last year, reputation hardly mattered. It was about living up to that reputation.

Scouts came from all the top Baseball clubs in the UK came to the big games to seek out potential talent. They worked together with some of the best universities in the UK, and if they chose you, you’d get a full funding programme for university.

Dan didn’t just want to impress the scouts, he needed it. And he’d be damned before he gave up. He would do anything.

So the time he normally spent on the internet or watching anime was now spent on training. For once, he cared about what he ate. He didn’t go overboard, but if getting a great Personal Statement meant that he had to eat fewer crisps, he was fine with it.

“Dan, Dan! The coach knows the team you’re going to be playing against! He asked me to come find you.” Dan was broken out of his thoughts by his friend’s arrival.

He was in line for lunch, and Jack was weaving through the line, throwing ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘passing through’ left, right and centre. The closer he got, the more excited he looked. Dan was half curious, half afraid.

He was interrupted by the lunch lady coughing pointedly. She nodded her head at the food in front of her. “Oh, sorry, umm I’ll have the chicken sandwich, please.”

“Dan! Are you even listening to me? I said the coach needs to speak to you. You can take your lunch with you. Hurry up!”

When Dan entered the coach’s office the coach was looking at his computer screen, but he vaguely waved to the seat in front of his desk. He sat down and ate his sandwich, slightly disgusted at the pale, almost white, tomatoes that were in the sandwich.

“Howell. I know you are counting on this game for your Personal statement, but the opposing team has just won their semi-final. Chorlton High School in Manchester. They have one of the top Pitchers of the country, Phil Lester. We’ve never played against them, but they’re good... very good. They have been national champion five times, and have had an entire team’s worth of people who will go on to play at professional level. There is one thing, however: the scouts want to see the players outside of the field. So in two weeks’ time, there’s going to be a 4-day boot camp for the teams in the final. The scouts organised it and will observe you during training and other activities. I’ve already talked to your form tutor and the head teacher and they gave permission. I just need your parents’ permission. Could you have them sign this and return it to me tomorrow?”

He handed Dan a letter, probably explaining the same he’d just been told. Dan was thinking about what he’d just heard. Phil Lester was going to be on the same field as him. He was going to be playing against Phil Lester. Even more so, he was going on a boot camp with Phil Lester. He didn’t know why he felt so excited for this.

He’d seen pictures of the guy, in online articles about recent national high school matches. Besides being a fantastic Baseball player, he was also attractive. Dan wasn’t going to deny that.

But he was the enemy. And Dan couldn’t get distracted by beautiful boys. He was training to become a professional baseball player, and they don’t get distracted by beautiful people, as far as he knew.

***

You know how parents have the ability to completely embarrass you in front of others? Dan’s mother went straight past that and to ‘I crave death and destruction’. They were waiting for the bus that would take them to the boot camp, and she was fussing over him, checking if he had everything, and making sure ‘her baby was going to be okay’ as she said. If that meant that she tugged at his collar, and kept going over a list of things he had to take with him on this trip, Dan would rather just leave.

“Owls, please make your way to the bus and put your luggage in the storage compartment before going in.”

“Bye, mum.” Dan joined PJ and Jack at the bus door. He heard his mum scream ‘I love you honey’ and felt the extreme urge to facepalm. PJ snickered and Dan elbowed him in the kidney, hard. They entered the bus and sat down.

***

“Dan, Dan! Wake up, Tim drew a moustache on your face while you were asleep. Anyway, we’re here.”

Groggily Dan sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He took out his phone to check for fake moustaches, seeing it was just a few dots.

“Guys, gather around! We, the coaches, have made a randomly set up cabin division. You will be paired with a member of the Manchester team. Remember, the scouts are looking for someone who can work with what they’ve got. They want someone who takes sportsmanship before winning. So, don’t think of your roommate for the week as your enemy, but as someone who is striving for the exact same thing as you, and wants it just as bad. I’m not saying marry them, but maybe try to be friends with them. Yes, when we face them during the final, you can see them as opponents, but now, you have to show your abilities as a baseball player. The sheet with your cabin numbers is here.”

The team streamed out of the bus, and Dan glimpsed at the sheet coach was holding. He only saw his cabin number, his roommate was covered by coach’s thumb. 1910, mustn’t be hard to find.

It was hard to find, to put it simply. There was absolutely no system in the cabin numbers. Even more so, the cabins were spread over 4 fields. Eventually, Dan saw 1910, tucked away between the outskirts of the forest.

From the open window, music blasted loudly. Just as Dan stepped onto the porch, a single note blasted through the window. Immediately after, the sound of something dropping to the ground rolled out the window. He couldn’t help but giggle at the little yelp.

When he knocked on the door, the music stopped abruptly and seconds later the door opened, revealing a boy clad in a maroon shirt and matching shorts.

“Oh, you must be my cabin mate. I mean why would you be here otherwise. I’m Ph-”

“Phil Lester, star baseball player of Manchester, possibly the best pitcher in high school baseball. I know who you are. Hard to miss you. You’re kind of famous. I’m-”

“Dan Howell. You’re famous too, you spork. Although I rarely see someone who’s taller than me.”

Somehow, it got them to dissolve in uncontrollable laughter as if they’d known each other all their lives, and this wasn’t awkward at all.

“God, that sounded even cheesier in my head.” Dan looked at him confusedly. “I sometimes narrate what’s happening around me, but this better not be the cliché ‘opposite team stars meet, become best friends, they live happily ever after’ because then I’ll start singing ‘the Start of Something New’ like Troy Bolton.”

Dan burst out laughing once more and managed to say, “First, I’ll join in but cringe the whole time. Second, let’s go inside, the mosquitoes are eating me alive right now.”

When they got inside, the brunet saw that on the lower bunk, a bag lay half unpacked. A Pokémon shirt was half hanging off the bed, a pair of running bottoms and running shoes on the pillow and, neatly folded on a chair at the foot of the bed, was a Baseball uniform. The greens and blues were vibrant and seemed to light up under the sunlight streaming in through the window. Dan knew that the Manchester team was known for its brightly coloured uniforms and impeccable aesthetic, but couldn’t help but be surprised at the beauty of the uniform. He always thought his team’s uniforms were aesthetically pleasing, with the soft pastel pink and black, but they are easily beat by the vibrant colours of the Manchester team.

“I see your eyes are being attacked by the uniform of Chorlton High School. Sometimes I think we blind people with our bright uniforms, and that’s how we win.” Phil chuckled and Dan hurried to shake his head. “No, no, definitely not. You are amazing players. I watched some shitty quality videos of one of your games last season, and from what I could see, the only thing they got distracted by was the hot players-” he stopped midsentence and blushed brightly. He coughed and turned his attention to his bag.

“Thank you. I have some very good looking teammates if I can say that.”

The two guys went about their own business for a few minutes until there was a knock at the door. Phil went to get it because Dan had his hands full of clothing he was trying to put away in some orderly way.

“Hey, Phil! Want to go check out the area? It’s still like half an hour till the introduction and dinner, and I want to check out the field.” A northern voice came from the doorway.

“Sure, can Dan come? Then we can check out the area with him.” Phil hasn’t even turned around when Dan answered the unasked question. He stood up from the chair he’d sunk down in moments previous. “Sure, I’ll come, just let me put on some shoes.”

Five minutes later he was walking along with the 3 guys, Phil included. Surprisingly, PJ was there as well and greeted Dan.

“Well, Ello. I’m Chris Kendall, Catcher supreme. Also PJ cabin-mate. And also possibly planning your murder in the forest later this week.”

For just one terrifying moment Dan thought he was serious, whilst he made eye contact with PJ. Then he caught sight of Chris’ shit eating grin and burst out laughing. Phil was giggling, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

Dan sobered up at the sight. ‘Shit’.

***

“Hello, gentlemen. Welcome to Baseball camp. This week we, as ‘scouts’, want to observe you as you train and interact with each other. We set this up-”

Phil tuned out the voice of the man standing at the centre of the dining hall. He preferred to stare at the boy sitting opposite him, currently whispering to PJ, also ignoring the man still talking.

Of course, he’d seen pictures of Dan Howell, as he was one of the more famous high school players. Yet somehow the pictures just didn’t do him justice. Was he going to be having these cheesy thoughts all throughout the week? Probably.

“… halfway through the week, we will play a game, not competitive, just to see you play in a competition.”

This was going to be an interesting week.

***

The next morning, Phil was woken up by an insistent knocking on the door. Groggily, he opened it, to reveal one of his teammates, Dean.

“What do you want? It’s too early to prank Jack.”

“The warm-up starts in half an hour. Get up and ready. Meet me back in the dining hall. Wear your track clothes.”

He turned around and left. “Good morning to you too, Mister Dobbs.” Phil muttered as he shut the door and trudged back to his bed, climbing up the ladder of the bunk to wake up Dan, only to find the brunet facing towards the gap for the ladder. Their faces were close, and Dan’s breath fanned over Phil’s nose.

“Dan, Dan wake up. We have to start training.” He softly shook the boy awake. Dan grumbled and opened his eyes, blinking the sleep out of eyes.

“Go get ready, we have a track training in half an hour. And you still need to eat breakfast.” Phil went down the ladder and assembled his track clothes before disappearing into the bathroom

Dan grumbled again and pushed aside his covers, rubbing his eyes whilst going down the ladder. He walked to his bag and picked up his clothes. He discarded his sleeping shirt and put on his black track shirt and black track shorts.

About ten minutes later they were all standing on a large grass field. At the front, Dan’s coach was talking about a slow warmup, followed by sprint training and some evaluation by the ‘scouts’.

“This is going to be fun,” Dan muttered.

PJ snickered beside him. “Why do you hate running so much when you’re one of the best sprinters in the team? You scored home runs that seemed impossible and yet you complain every time we have to run. I just don’t get it.”

Dan was about to go on his rant about running again when Chris interrupted them. “I think PJ explained this to me last night. You hate exercising and eating healthily, except when it’s Baseball? I do not want to see the insides of your brain.”

“I think you just want a whole lot of naked topless guys.” PJ looked horrified a second after the words had left his lips. It had just slipped. Their entire team was okay with Dan’s sexuality and usually teased him about it with good manners. But, once they made a joke whilst they were at a game, and the opposite team had reacted repulsively and were disgusted. They demanded that the match would be cancelled, as they ‘wouldn’t play against a homosexual team’. The Umpire had to step in and even asked Dan if he wanted it in an official report.

Dan slowly stepped towards PJ, just in case things got ugly.

“Well, let me in then. As long as Haru Chan is in there too: he deserves some good shirtless action.” Phil’s voice shook Dan out of his alert and ready to move mindset.

“Do I have to go all crazy on you guys or not? Because I’m prepared to kick some ass for this crazy hobbit.” PJ stepped closer to Phil and Chris, at least trying to look intimidating.

“I don’t think so unless you want to protect him from my irresistible body.” Chris sniggered and did a half-assed body role.

Phil immediately hit him in the chest and hissed ‘Chris’ but he was smiling. “Don’t worry. Chris is the most flaming homosexual in this team, and I don’t care what sexuality you are, I care about who you are as a person.”

Dan breathed out in relief. PJ let his shoulders relax.

“Everyone, start with three laps around the field!”

Dan grunted and started jogging. His curly-haired friend huffed out a laugh and followed him. The two others followed suit.

Five minutes in, Dan felt the sweat on his forehead. His hair was beginning to curl and he felt the need to lie down and take a short nap.

“Okay, split up in groups and start sprinting the short sides of the field. We’ll do something else later.”

Dan, Phil, PJ and Chris stood together. “So, Howell. You claim that you’re a good sprinter? Let’s see. Fastest to the other side wins.”

“Deal.”

“3… 2… 1… Go!”

They took off towards the other side of the field, Dan quickly taking the lead on Chris. His feet kept going faster, lightly tapping the grass. When he came to a halt at the other end of the field he managed to slip on the grass that was still wet with dew. He came to a slippery halt just in front of the trees lining the field.

“I win! Suck on that Kendall.” Dan cheered victoriously. Chris was standing a few metres from him and PJ and Phil were sprinting towards them, PJ barely keeping a straight face until he stopped in front of Dan.

“How do you always manage to trip over something or bump into something? It’s like you forget the rest of the world exists.”

Dan opened his mouth to reply sassily but before he could, the coach called them together.

Before they started walking, Phil grabbed Dan by the wrist lightly. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine, but thanks for asking.”

***

Throughout the week they did group activities and sometimes personal assignments one on one with the ‘scouts’. They only stopped training for food, and if the scouts wanted to talk to them. When they got closer to the mid-week competition, people began to sneakily sabotage the opposite team. Dan and Phil made a pact to not let any of their teammates into their cabin without the permission of both of them and they were both awake and in the cabin as well. This was to prevent any pranks from happening.

Then there was a second thing happening. Dan figured out pretty quickly that living in a small space with someone who was not only hot, but also really funny and kind, wasn’t a very good idea. The more he talked to Phil, the more butterflies he felt fluttering in his stomach. When Phil laughed, alarm bells went off in his head. When they touched, Dan thought he could feel sparks travel through his skin. It was so cliché, but he just couldn’t help it.

Phil on the other hand, had been told off by his coach mutable times for being distracted during the training. He was told to get his head in the game or get out. (Dan had laughed loudly, much to the coach’s confusion, and started singing ‘get your head in the game’). The problem was that, more often than not, the thing that was distracting him was in the field with Dan. Dan was laughing, messing around or even just doing what he was told beside him, and Phil would go off into a fantasy about kissing those dimples oh so softly, just barely brushing his lips against the slightly tanned skin. Once, he’d let the fantasy get the best of him, and had leaned in towards Dan’s cheek until he suddenly realised he couldn’t just do that.

Chris and PJ had noticed their behaviour by now. They continuously teased the two boys about, but only when the other wasn’t there. Dan would be staring at his dinner, and PJ would pipe up with ‘thinking about Phil, aren’t you?’ and Dan would blush bright red and splutter indignantly.

This was not working for either of them. Phil tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his stomach when those brown doe eyes shone. Dan tried to not get lost in those ocean blue eyes whenever he could. They had to concentrate. This was still a competition.

***

“Howell! Don’t disappoint me today. Concentrate. Lester is one of the top pitchers, and one of a kind. This is your chance to observe him and learn his tactics. This goes for all of you! It’s been decided we play field first. PJ, pitch. Tim, left fielder. Finn, first baseman. Jack, third baseman. Jason, catcher. Dereck, centre fielder. Dave, right fielder. Dan, shortstop and Sam, second baseman. Rest benches. Okay, let’s go Owls!”

Quickly they took their positions. The other team was ready to start hitting, the Umpire blew on his whistle, and Dan was off into his mindset. Nothing mattered more than winning the game. The first hit was played. The ball flew through the sky, the whistling like music to Dan’s ears.

The ball started to descend near centre fielder, who made a dash for the ball. A hush fell over the field. There was no laughing, no talking, just utter concentration on the game.

As the game continued scores kept close. Dan was kept away from the hitting plate. His coach often did that when it was a tough game, keeping his stronger players out until later, in case they needed to make a comeback.

However, the Chorlton coach had the same idea. Until 15 minutes before the game ended both of them were benched. The scores were tied. Dan’s team was hitting.

“Howell, your go!” Dan jumped up and walked towards the hitting plate. Across the field, he heard Phil’s coach shout ‘Lester you’re up!’

Dan felt a thrill of excitement go down his spine. He was up against the player that was almost entirely out of his league.

He lifted his bat and got ready. Phil pulled back his hand and looked Dan in the eye. “Don’t get distracted, Dan! Don’t get distracted Dan!” it ran through his head. The voice sounded strangely like PJ, and somehow Dan thought PJ was signalling it telepathically.

The ball surged forward. It was a fast one and if he didn’t hit it, it would be a strike. Dan tried to keep his eye on the ball. He pulled back his bat even further and pushed it forward.

The wood hit the ball. The whistling went away, but Dan wasn’t paying attention. He threw the bat backwards. His feet were moving towards first base. The ball was still going. Second base was approaching. Dan took the risk to look at the ball, seeing that it was still high in the air and going towards the long end. He continued running. He passed third base. Home base was getting closer.

Phil stood there, in the middle of the field. He was watching Dan run around the field, like a black streak with pink highlights. When he’d seen Dan in his uniform this morning he’d actually let his mouth fall open. The uniform was very fitted, and the black complimented his entire body.

“Homerun!” The Owls started cheering loudly. Dan sank on the ground and just smiled at Phil, who was still staring at him. His eyes were soft, his hair going extra curly from the sweat.

The rest of the game seemed to go by in a blur, at least for Phil. That smile was stuck on his mind, and it made his heart stutter slightly.

At the end, he walked to Dan and stopped in front of him.

“Congratulations on winning the championship.” He was grinning like a fool, he was 100% sure he was.

“Um… Phil, this was a test game. We haven’t even played the real game.” Dan looked amused and slightly confused.

“Yeah, but at the rate, you’re going we won’t stand a chance. You’ve already won in my book.”

“Phil that’s very sweet of you, but you are downplaying your team undeservedly. We barely won. There were some lucky moments. We stand just as much of a chance as you. Why do you think we both made it to the final? Because we managed to beat everyone else.”

They were approaching their cabin, but Phil stopped the brunet by softly grasping his hand. “Hey, um... Dan... I... I just... I just really want us to stay in touch, you know after this week, and after the finale.” Not exactly want he was going to say, but close enough.

Dan smiled his full-on dimpled smile. “You spork, of course we’re going to be friends after this. I can honestly say that you’ve become one of my best friends in the last few days.” He smiled again and pulled the older one into a hug.

“Oi, Howell! No distracting our team with your body!”

“Fuck off Kendall!”

****

As the week continued, Dan tried to tell Phil how he felt on multiple occasion. Every time he would back out a the last moment, finding it too great a risk to ruin this new found friendship over something so silly as a tiny crush.

Only it wasn’t a tiny crush. It was more like falling in love, hard and fast. It seemed like the world had opened up a gigantic hole of Phil’s little habits and antics. However, as soon as Dan opened his mouth to just fucking say something, all odds seemed to go against him.

Once his coach walked up to them when he’d just gotten the first words out. His coach had then proceeded to pull him away, and go through a new idea he’d had, for an hour. By the time the man was done talking, Phil was training with his team.

Dan was determined to change that. He made a promise to himself, and PJ, that he would tell the ebony haired man before midnight on the night of the finale. He also promised PJ that if that didn’t happen, he’d allow him and Chris to interfere.

Dan wasn’t quite sure if that was the brightest idea he’d ever had, but it was too late now.

It was also too late to tell Phil in person because the bus was leaving in two minutes and Dan hadn’t seen Phil since breakfast. He reluctantly put his bag in the storage compartment and turned towards the doors. PJ patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. They were the last to get on the bus, and the bus driver was impatiently waiting for them to just get on, so they could start the two hour drive back to school.

Just as the doors closed Dan saw a figure run onto the road where the scouts had just said their temporary goodbyes. He was sprinting towards the bus. The bus driver was about to turn on the motor when Dan screamed: “Wait! Stop! I forgot something. I’ll just be a second.”

He heard everyone on the bus sigh, but his coach nodded. “Hurry Howell.”

Then he was sprinting down the road, approaching the figure still running towards him.

“Phil I need to say something. And just, just wait until I’m finished. I don’t have long. I like you, as more than a friend I guess. No I don’t guess, I know. And I don’t know if I just ruined a great friendship, but it was worth it. I know you might not feel the same way, and that’s okay. I just hope that we can at least maintain some form of friendship.”

And with that he sprinted back to the bus, and plopped down next to PJ, who was staring at him with open mouth. “You did not just tell him and then run off?! I can’t believe you!”

Dan, however, wasn’t interested in the happenings in the bus. Instead he stared out the window, at the figure that was swiftly getting smaller.

Phil stared at the retreating bus, still trying to comprehend the words that had just reached his ears. Somehow, Dan Howell was interested in him. He took out his phone, fumbling to get it as fast as possible.

It was only when he was frantically trying to get the damned thing to turn on that he remembered that his phone charger was at home, and throughout the week he’d borrowed people’s chargers to keep it alive. Only today, with everyone packing, he’d forgotten to charge it.

“Phil, we’re about to leave. You coming?” Chris came around the corner. Phil shook his head to shake himself out of his daze and turned towards his friend. “Yeah...” it came out to rough for his liking. He cleared his throat, “yes, let’s go.”

***

Dan felt miserable over the weekend. He’d expected at least one text from Phil, but when he received nothing for the majority of those two days, he gathered all the guts he had and text it him. It had been disappointing when the text had remained unanswered.

Despite this Dan showed up to school on Monday in a good mood. He felt good about the game in two weeks. His schoolyear so far had gone great. He wasn’t about to let feelings get in the way of that.

By the time lunch came around he’d mostly forgotten about the text incident. Almost. When he sat down with his friends he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket several times. He pulled it out of pocket, not looking at the caller ID.

“Hey, this is Dan.”

“Dan, it’s Phil from Chris’ phone. My brother took my charger when he visited last week and I haven’t been able to charge my phone since I got home. I was going to text you when you got on the bus but then my phone died and I couldn’t and….”

“Phil it’s okay.”

“No it’s not and I’m going to make it up to you. You’ll see. You’ll be charmed Mr. Howell.”

The line went dead and Dan pulled the phone away from his ear. He let a dimpled smile slide onto his face. Louise immediately started to interrogate him.

“Who is it, and what made you smile so much? PJ, I demand a story fact check.”

When the two were done explaining, Louise was giggling loudly and around them some of Dan’s other friends were very amused.

“So Dan, you confessed your undying love for the man, then ran onto a bus. You spent the weekend being miserable, and when you sent a text and didn’t get a reply, you didn’t think to look if it had actually been received. And it turns out your little lover boy just lost his phone charger and loves you. And he promised to charm you off your feet. This could only happen to you Daniel Howell.”

“Preach.”

***

Chorlton high school’s baseball team was spending the entire afternoon before the game at Dan’s school. Dan still had his lessons to follow, but frankly, he wasn’t really aware of what actually happened during these lessons. All he could think was that Phil was so close, so fucking close.

During the two weeks leading up to the game, the two had texted almost nonstop. Among the long conversations about almost anything, they flirted, and every time Phil responded to his flirting with more flirting Dan felt his heart do a little jump. So knowing that the blue eyed boy was in the same building as him, made him feel giddy.

His friends teased him endlessly. Louise seemed to hum Disney songs whenever Dan was around. Often it was the same one and after three days of that same song being stuck in his head, Dan had caved and googled the song.

Why Louise was singing ‘Did I mention’ was still a mystery to Dan. he asked her on several occasions, and eventually she made him watch Descendants and Descendants 2 because Louise doesn’t do half work. But Dan was just as clueless, if not crushing a little bit on Jay’s muscles.

They were supposed to arrive during the period before lunch. Honestly, by the time the lunch bell rang, Dan was shaking with giddy excitement. His mind was a near constant chant of ‘Phil! Phil!’ and his smile hadn’t left his lips for the last hour. As he entered the cafeteria, he eagerly looked around for the bright green and blue uniforms. He found them shattered around the cafeteria, sitting with his teammates who sat with their own groups of friends. At last he saw PJ and Chris sitting at their usual table. Still no sign of Phil.

“Hey Howell, sad to see you’re still on your feet.” Chris patted him on the shoulder, his signature smirk firmly planted on his face.

“He’s not going to react. He hasn’t had his daily dose of Phil yet, and he’s a bit addicted.” Dan desperately wanted to hit his friends, who were all snickering at PJ’s comment.

“Oh, didn’t Phil tell you. He is with the coach, working on some last minute tactics. Will probably take the rest of the day. He said to tell you hello, and that he’ll see you at the game.” Chris smiled sympathetically and pat Dan on the back again.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” Dan took his spot at the table. He wouldn’t let the dejection get him down on the day of the big game.

***

“Listen up Owls! As much as this game is about winning, it is more important that you show the scouts that you are someone they want on their team. They don’t care who wins or loses tonight, they care about you and your talents. We are going to play like the test game, only better. This time we start as batting team. Howell, I want you on the bench for now.” Their coach was standing at the door of their changing room giving his usual pre-game talk. The team was calm, as they always were just before the adrenaline kicked in. Dan felt them all take a collective breath before the coach opened the door.

The stands were full, people were cheering and the music was blasting loudly. The crowd seemed to unleash energy from within Dan, and he was ready to win a game.

“Players please take your positions.” Across from their bench, Phil was sat, also on the bench. They briefly met eyes, and exchanged smiles. Dan felt his insides flutter.

They were on the fifth inning when the coach called Dan to the plate. He walked to the plate, bat in hand. Across from him Phil stood at the pitching plate. He took a deep breath and laid the bat on his shoulder. He went back to the basics of baseball that he was taught in the very beginning. It always helped him calm down.

Elbows up, let your armpits air. Body sideways, non-dominant side forwards. Deep breath, eyes on the pitcher.

Phil pulled his hand back, and threw. The ball whistled towards him and Dan forgot the crowds. The only things left on the field were him and the ball. The sound became muted, as if he had cushions over his ears.

If he wouldn’t hit the ball, it would be a strike. The ball was a fast one. He swung his bat forward. Wood connected with the ball. He forced the ball away from himself. As soon as he felt the connection break he dropped the bat and started running.

He passed first base, and continued running. He was approaching second base when he saw, from his peripheral vision, a field player throwing the ball towards the person standing at second base. He pushed himself to go faster. His left foot hit the base.

Pan shot up his knee. His leg gave out underneath him. A collective gasp ran through the crowd. Dan blinked at his knee, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The ball lay a few centimetres away. Then the Umpire was beside him. “Are you okay boy?” Dan nodded, and pushed his upper body off the ground.

When he tried to stand he felt pain shoot through his knee yet again. He almost fell over, but the umpire caught him before he could, and helped him towards the benches. The coach was already waiting with a first aid kit.

“You got a long ball to the knee boy. Got busted pretty bad, I think. I can’t let you play. Let’s get this knee cooled.”

So Dan sat out the game watching the scoreboard go up, somehow staying even for most of the game. All throughout that, he felt eyes on him, and when he looked up once, he found himself staring at Phil, who seemed to look at him in earnest concern.

During the last inning Phil was once again at the pitching plate. He threw the ball at Dave, who swung. Strike. Phil threw the ball again. Dave didn’t swing. Ball. He threw again, Dave hit the ball. It flew through the air, and landed in Chris’ glove.

“End Game.” Dan looked at the scoreboard. Chorlton high was ahead just a few points. They won. Cheering went through the crowd. Dan clapped along. Someone walked onto the field to announce the official winners of the high school baseball competition in the UK.

As Dan watched, he saw Phil take the microphone, and call for attention.

“Excuse me, can I have your attention please. I need to tell someone something very important. Two weeks ago we went on a training camp, and I met one of the UK’s top amateur players. Dan Howell. At the end of that training camp, he told me he was in love with me. But, in Dan Howell fashion, he didn’t give me the chance to response. So here’s my response Dan Howell. I am as much in love with you as you are with me, and maybe more. O would you, please, go on a date with me. Don’t stand up! I’ll come over to you.”

Dan was blushing and grinning as the ebony haired boy approached. As soon as they were close enough, he stood on unsteady feet, and threw himself into Phil’s arms.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

***

In the end, it didn’t matter that Dan hadn’t been able to play for more than just a minute. He got a letter from the scouts, saying they loved his performance throughout the week during training, and they wanted him. Phil ended up getting the same letter and they were accepted together. It felt amazing to go into his dorm and see his boyfriend there.

“How is that for cheesy, Phil?”

[chatoyism]

You Look Perfect || Mark One Shot

→ Summary: You and Mark basically grew up together. You found each other when you were little, went to elementary school together, moved out of Canada with each other by your sides, went to Prom together and proposed. All that was left was to finally bring both of your lives and turn it into one. 

→ Genre: Romance, Fluff

→ Member: Mark Lee

→ Words: 2.5k

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the first one shot I’ve ever done based on marriage! I’ve been listening to Ed Sheeran’s “Devide” album recently and decided to based this one shot on the beautiful song, “Perfect”! Enjoy!

You took one good look at yourself in the large framed mirror, about as tall as your body whilst you stared into your reflection, checking all around you for any kind of imperfection. Twirling around from side to side, you shuffled around in your white dress, adjusting the fabric around your waist so that it didn’t tighten too much. The dress was getting quite uncomfortable, the lace wrapped around your shoulders starting to dig into your skin, the high heels you wore aching the soles of your feet. It was difficult getting used to wearing a dress as luxurious as this one, but it was going to be worth it.

You watched as the assistants helped you with your outfit, putting on some dazzling jewels onto the final piece and styling your hair, twisting it and tying it into a bun so it didn’t hang low before they finished your look with simple makeup and some flower hair accessories. Patting on with a makeup brush and swiping some peach tint on your lips, they finally gave you the mirror to which to hold onto and stared at the reflection looking back at you.

“You look absolutely stunning, Miss Lee.” One of the assistants smiled whilst you gazed at your complexion.

You had never seen such a beautiful side of you. The hair, the makeup, every part of your face that you didn’t believe would be pretty, suddenly came to life. You couldn’t believe it.

This was you. This was the new you.

“The man you are about to marry is so lucky to have such a beautiful woman as his wife.” The others smiled. “I’m starting to fall for her myself!”

“Thank you, everyone! I-I just can’t believe it!” You exclaimed with joy, pulling the assistants in for a hug and wiping the single tear off your cheeks.

“I’m speechless…” You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time.

“And your soon-to-be-husband will be just as speechless once he sees you walking through that door!” They all cheered before they lead you out of the room. You took one big deep breath and let it out, heart beating at an incredible pace.

That’s right, I’ll be married to him.

Married to Mark Lee.

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love.

Your mom allowed you to play out on the playground park while she went to speak to one of her childhood friends who also had a child of her own. At first, as a little kid, you had to bribe her into going out to play since you didn’t like Barbie dolls and pink things and preferred to be adventurous, explore a world beyond the house door. Shaking her arm with fury, she gave you one last look before finally accepting it.

“Alright, alright, you can go off now. Mommy will be watching you!” She said and nudged you slightly, making you jump up with glee.

“She’s a very impatient one, isn’t she?” Your mom’s friend chuckled, looking over at you and your excitement before checking up on her own child.

“Yeah, she is. She can’t sit down!” They both laughed.

You took off for the swings, sitting on the littlest one that would fit you since you were no longer a baby, and forced yourself forward, and swung back with momentum.

“Mom’s not here to push me…” You thought and got off it.

Running off towards the slide, you jumped up onto the platform and got into the tube before sliding down with hands in the air.

“Weee!”

Landing on your knees, you stood up and brushed the dirt off before looking for something else to play on, until you suddenly collided with another human being that smacked into you down the slide.

“Oh no! Are you alright?” The person sounded concerned and got off you who was fortunately not crying.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Be careful next time!” You reassured and looked up at the guy that landed on you.

He wasn’t that much taller than you expected, dressed in a colourful jacket with black sneakers and a snapback, he looked incredibly stylish compared to you who wore some plain black jeans and a pastel blue shirt.

“I’ll be careful! I’m Mark Lee!” He cooed and pulled out his hand.

“I’m Y/N Kim!” You gladly shook it.

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song.

You were casually strolling through the park one sunny afternoon, headphones over your ears blocking out all of the noise from the outside world as you seeped in the lyrics of the music. Your hands were placed in your pockets keeping it warm while you watched the clouds, birds and cars go by.

The smell of the trees and freshly cut grass helped take away the work from school and toss it far into a place you never want to see. Taking a walk through the park was one way that helped you feel free from the world and release your energy from inside.

You headed towards the favourite tree that was perched upon the only hill of the park. On the top of the hill was a blossoming oak tree with leaves sprouting in all directions, a large tree trunk and some room at the root of it which was perfect for relaxing and shading yourself from the sun. The colours were beautiful from a distance, even more spectacular in Autumn when the orange and red leaves come to life.

Walking towards it, your eyes landed on a familiar figure that was reading a book in his hands with headphones on and back resting on the bark of the tree. His porcelain skin shining from the sunlight that managed to find its way through the tree made his figure look almost like he was filming a movie. His doll-like eyes reading every word and sentence, and his beautiful black hair that was whipped to the side like a tidal wave.

You casually took a seat next to him and rested your head on his shoulder, slightly making him jump.

“Oh, it’s just you.” He chuckled lightly, peering over his shoulder to look at you. “You really scared me then.”

You laughed it off, chuckling at his reaction.

“Don’t be so naive Mark! We’re just getting used to Seoul right now!”

You and Mark lived in Canada where you both met at the playground. You both absolutely loved the weather, especially the fresh air from the nature and the freedom. However, didn’t like it when you had to move out of the country along with Mark to South Korea where your parents were going to work at. At first, the new land and area were unfamiliar to you and it took some time for you and him to learn Korean and get used to the environment. It was difficult and it meant that times would get rough, but you were lucky to have him by your side.

You looked at the book he was reading and read out the title.

“Me Before You, by Jojo Moyes,” You read aloud. “Isn’t it a romance book? Are you really into couples right now?”

He laughed at your question and took his headphones off, luckily hearing you speak past the audio.

“I’m just interested in it. It seemed like a good book you know.”

“Mark, you’re only in the second year of High School and you’re already reading Adult Novels? That’s one big leap to me.” You crossed your arms as a joke, looking at him with a hint of sarcasm.

“Come on. It really is a good book! You should read it!” He begged.

“Also, I’m listening to this new group that just debuted in SM Entertainment, called EXO. They have this really cool song called ”What is Love“ and it's awesome!” Mark said and took his headphones and placed it on your head.

“Not bad! It's actually pretty good!”

“Of course its good, they’re already popular!” He jumped up with glee. “I’m going to be just as popular and become an author!”

You laughed at him, standing up in a weird pose and giggled when he looked at you with a weird look.

“What’s so funny? I’m not joking!”

“The way you say it sounds so stupid!” You rolled on the grass.

“Well, I’m not going to give up now!” He yelled and tackled you with a hug, rolling down the hill and taking your shoe off your foot before running away like a little child.

“Mark Lee! Give me my shoe back!”

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms.

It was the night of the Senior Prom Dance. All of your friends were over at the large concert room just over on the other side of the campus grounds while you were busy sitting in silence in the music room. Everyone came in with beautiful tuxedos and gowns, dressed to perfection with lovely hair and sparkling jewellery. Unlike you, all the girls and boys had their own partners to dance with, someone to get drunk with, someone to party on the dance floor and have a one-night stand soon afterwards.

It was a crazy night, everything was just all some flashing lights to you. However, when you expected your first and only option to be available as your partner for prom, it turned out that he was already taken with the addition of being asked by thousands of other girls. The night couldn’t have been better for you, and you turned towards the place that made you feel the safest.

The Music room.

It was silent, nothing could be heard and darkness enveloped the room, the only light that came in was from the window that shone the moonlight inside. Tears streamed down your face, wiping it off your cheeks only for it to pour down your face again. It didn’t stop flowing, your first love taken away from you like they meant so much to you. Actually, they really did.

You sat in the corner, away from the visible view of anyone that happened to walk by the room and see someone suspicious sitting randomly in the pitch black darkness. You didn’t care if someone saw you really, you just wanted to let out your inner emotions and get away from the party.

In your already put on blue dress, you looked at the invitation letter you were about to give to him before Prom until he was taken by someone else. Tossing it away to the other side of the room, you crawled into a ball with sadness.

The door to the music room suddenly opened wide, a figure walking in which made you close your mouth, hoping to block the noise of your cries from escaping. It was a male, dressed in a black and white suit walking around as if he was looking for something.

Despite the darkness of the room, he saw past the black and used the moonlight to navigate around, making him suddenly turn towards you in the corner. You gasped in shock, almost a bit too loudly as he started walking towards you, taking each step slowly hoping not to scare you.

It was until he bent down on one knee and looked into your eyes. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it.

“You’re not pretty if you cry Y/N, wipe those tears away.” His deep voice whispered into your ears.

“M-M-Mark?” You asked and quickly wiped them away. “W-What are you doing here? I-I thought you were at the dance.”

You stood up from the corner and watched as Mark rubbed the back of his neck, looking down with a hint of sadness.

“Well, I should be, it’s just…” He paused. “My date abandoned me for someone else, and used me as a way to get her date to go with her…”

You gasped at his statement, looking down in guilt as well since you felt sorry for him. At first, you were glad that he was abandoned, but turned your emotions around when you realized that there was no one else who would enjoy the night with him.

“Why did you come here then?” You asked, glancing up at him. He grinned.

“I came here to see you.”

Mark suddenly pulled out a red rose from the inside pocket of his tuxedo and handed it to you.

“I knew that you were alone tonight because I saw the look on your face that day my date asked me to go to prom with her. You looked… surprised… shocked… like everything came crashing down while I was being taken away… I felt sorry because I knew that I was your first option for prom.”

Your mouth was wide open, unknown to the situation that was happening when you took a look at Mark who had a tear fall down his cheek.

“I felt responsible, that I made my best friend cry, and ended up leaving her like trash without truly realizing my true feelings. I left her without understanding what true love really meant…”

“I love you Y/N.” He confessed.

It was quiet, nothing was heard but the silence between you too as you just looked into Mark’s eyes that were building up with tears. You seemed to regret it, wanting to take him in your arms and tell him that he was alright by your side. However, the eyes you looked into was real. They knew you like you knew him.

You didn’t care in the end and wrapped your arms around his waist, enveloping him in a hug while his sobs were trapped in your embrace.

“I’m here for you Mark, you don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m here whenever you need me.”

You took his rose from his hand and placed it softly on the ground before turning to Mark.

“May I have this dance?” He offered, making you giggle.

“You may.”

He took your hand and wrapped his around your waist while you placed yours on his shoulder and let the moonlight shine on your figures. It was quiet but peaceful, just you and Mark together, away from everyone else who partied on their own. You felt great to be able to listen to his heart beating for you, his warmth radiating on your skin.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you more Mark.”

Time went slow. Everything was put in slow motion as you watched peoples eyes travel to you and your fiancee. It was silent for a second, the veil pulled over your head which made you stare at your fiancee in awe, his lips pursed into a beautiful smile as he couldn’t contain his inner feelings and looked at you lovingly. It was a wonderful feeling.

This is the start of a new journey together, a path to happiness where we can live and die in each other's arms. This was it, this was the moment.

“Will you, Lee Min Hyung, take Kim Y/N as your lawful wedded wife?”

Nothing could be heard, it was quiet, everyone’s eyes were peering at the two of you who looked into each other's eyes with love, affection, happiness and other feelings exploding inside of you.

“I do.”

“And will you, Kim Y/N, take Lee Min Hyung as your lawful wedded husband?”

It was it. It was the moment. Five seconds had gone by and nothing could compare the feeling you felt inside your heart, the outburst of emotions and the amount of love and words you’d love you say to your fiance before the final announcement. You couldn’t keep still, biting your lip with anticipation and impatience wanting the time to go faster and the best moment to finally arrive. Everyone was waiting.

Everyone was watching, your parents, his friends, your friends, everyone.

I have faith in what I see,

3…

Now I know I have met an angel in person,

2…

And she looks perfect, I don't deserve this,

1…

“I do.”

You look perfect tonight.

[this-bird-is-on-fire]

Glace Gazette Files: RainbowS

It’s impossible to talk about current music trends without mentioning the hottest new group on the charts: RainbowS. From to humble beginnings to super stardom, these girls are the living definition of dreams coming true. 

We had the chance to interview these lovely ladies, and get the inside scoop on how they gained their claim to fame!

~ T. Mars

Please introduce yourselves to the lovely readers at home!

L: I’m Lexi. Lead guitarist.

S: Hi, everyone! I’m Sierra, your keyboardist!

G: I’m Gigi, and I’m the lead singer as well as the leader of the group!

O: Olivia, here! I’m on bass. Sometimes I’ll play lead if Lexi’s not feeling it.

Li: And I’m Lili. I do...drums some days and backup vocals on other.

Now, before we jump into the deep questions, let’s start off with a little fun, shall we?

Li: I’m...terrified already. [Laughs]

It’s real standard stuff, no worries! First of all, let’s get to know you a little better. What can you typically be found doing on your days off?

G: Days off...

S: Gigi never stops working. I feel like she’s at it nonstop.

G: That’s not true! I take breaks sometimes!

O: Suuuper rare when she does. 

G: But when I DO, I like reading. Murder mysteries especially. 

L: Me and Lili go on drives through the city.

Li: Sometimes we’ll go shopping but Lexi insists on eating first, so we just do these...spur of the moment restaurant tours where we hop from place to place until we’re sick.

O: Movie marathons. All day. Foreign dramas? The absolute best thing after weeks of practice. Give me a remote and a bowl of caramel corn, and i’m GOLDEN.

S: I don’t know how to answer this...! I don’t have a set thing I do other than sleep. And even that’s kinda fishy. Umm...I guess I like drawing and cooking?

G: Sierra never really stops either...

L: It’s a miracle these two are still kicking...

The grind never really stops for you guys, does it?

O: Nope. We’re always going at 1000% percent! We gotta stay on our toes for the fans!

Speaking of the fans, what’s the best fan interaction you’ve experienced so far?

O: Ohhh my god. Can I tell it? Lemme tell it.

L: Nobody’s stoppin’ you.

O: Okay! Okay! So, we were performing at O’Henry Arena and it was actually our first concert/meet and greet and we were super excited to have some hands on time with the fans. There was this one girl-- who looked like she couldn’t be older than 13-- who came up to us with these little bracelets she made herself--

S: At the time, we technically weren’t SUPPOSED to receive gifts, but she was so cute that we couldn’t just turn her down.

O: I wear mine all the time, actually! I could show you right now.

G: We don’t get the chance to do that sort of thing often. We try to do little things like stream or respond to fan letters online but doing things face to face on a more personal level like that is...

Li: Amazing, honestly.

L: It’s special.

G: Special! Yeah, it’s really nice to see how creative our fans are.

Creativity actually leads into my next question! What inspires you all as artists?

L: Food.

G: That’s so straightforward...

S: No good.

L: No good?

S: Mm-mm.

L: I mean, it’s true though. For me, at least. Good food gets me pumped to start working. Like, experiencing stuff through the senses in general...work for me. I’ll be out and I’ll smell something good and it’ll remind me of something and like that [snaps] I got a lyric in mind or a beat in my head.

Li: Lexi comes up with things seemingly out of nowhere. We’ll be out getting wings one moment and she just randomly has a verse about how much she loves chicken wings and she won’t stop repeating it until she gets it down.

L: I could be a freestyle rapper if they’d let me. If they gave me a mic, I-- [laughs] I could totally do it! Let me rap about pizza toppings at our next show.

Li: Next person. Next person!

S: For me, it’s moreso having to do with whenever my Muse strikes me next. I’ll sit at the keyboard and ask my Muse for help and then bam! I got a chord. Bam, I got a melody. It keeps piling on until we got a song we can work with.

G: Outside media is my inspiration. Like stories and things like that. Our first single, Color Core, is actually based on something I wrote when I was younger.

O: It’s still online somewhere.

G: Shh!

O: I invite our fans to find it! 

G: It’s not online! It’s not!

O: Good luck on your quest, my friends!

What made you become musicians in the first place?

Li: This is what I wanted to do when I grew up, honestly.

G: Really?

Li: I wanted to be a pop star...only because at the time, I thought they ruled the world because that’s all I saw on TV.

L: That’s...that’s so weird! What are you even talking about?

Li: I was 8! 

G: People told me I should be a songwriter and I tried that but nobody likes reading the lyrics without listening to the song so it just. Happened for me.

S: I’ve been doing piano for years now and if I let all my training go to waste, my folks would be beyond mad.

O: Because Gigi asked me to.

G: I never did that!

O: You did ask me if I was interested...and I said yes. Thinking it was a garage band and all. I didn’t know we’d actually be famous. It’s still weird to think that just a few years ago we we’re all just students huddled up in Sierra’s basement making songs...

L: I’m glad it ended up like this.

G: Yeah...I’m happy I get to sing with you guys. 

S: Makes ‘ya feel all warm and fuzzy.

I’m afraid that we’re all out of time together...But if you have any closing remarks, feel free to go ahead.

G: Everyone, from the bottom of our hearts, thank you so much for continuing to support us! Without you, RainbowS would be nowhere near as amazing as it is now.

O: Everything we do is for you guys. Everything. Every song, every performance...it’s all for you guys!

S: We’ll continue to work hard in the future. And hopefully...very, veeeery soon, we’ll go on a world tour and thank our fans from around the world.

L: Keep cheering for us, yeah? In return, we’ll give it all we got.

Li: ....You took all the meaningful things.

G: Lili, oh my god.

Li: Aha....thanks for reading!

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

The Rest of Their Lives

Early last week, a nonnie sent me a prompt asking me to write about Emma finding the engagement ring in Killian’s sea chest.  It took me all week, but I was determined to get it finished before tonight’s episode.  Look at that!  Nearly 5 minutes to spare!  Here you go, nonnie!  Hope you like it!

Emma transferred an arm-full of clean, wet clothes into the dryer, turned the dial, and pushed the start button.  Then, reaching for the basket of dry clothes, she headed up to her bedroom.

Her and Killian’s bedroom.

At the thought love and joy bubbled up again, and she smiled with abandon as she pulled a bath towel from the basket and set about folding it.  Seemed like the giddy smile never left her face anymore.  She was happy, really, really happy.  She was pretty sure she’d never been this happy, this in love before in her life, and it was almost overwhelming sometimes.

She’d always made fun of musicals—people walking around and just randomly breaking into song—but in the last few weeks they suddenly seemed much more realistic than before. Whenever she thought of what her life was like now she wanted to sing.  Must be her fairy tale heritage coming out.

Pulling out a pair of Killian’s jeans, she folded it neatly, and set it on the stack she’d started for him and then reached for one of Henry’s plaid shirts.  It was starting to get worn in the elbows and tight across the chest.  She’d have to take Henry shopping soon.  The kid was growing like a weed; growing out of everything.

There was something so domestic and normal about all of this. Her clothes mixed with Killian’s and Henry’s.  Laundry and cleaning and general housework had never been her thing.  Truth be told she’d spent as little time at her apartment back in Boston as she could.  It was a nice place, but there was always something missing.  It was lonely.

This house…it was nice too, but what made it nicest was the chaos.  Henry bounding down the stairs in the morning, running late for school. Killian singing as he made dinner. Snuggling on the couch as they slowly but surely made their way through the list of movies Henry insisted Killian had to see.  Killian gently chiding her for leaving her shoes or her coat laying around. (You could take the pirate out of the navy, but you could never take the navy out of the pirate.)

They were a family.  This place was home.

Oh, things weren’t perfect, of course.  Never were in this town.  Belle and Rumple’s psycho 28-year-old newborn was still determined to kill her, but somehow that problem felt far less insurmountable now than it had when she was plagued with her visions.  The Evil Queen’s wish world had been messed up, but it had shown her one thing: she was done bowing down to fate.

She made her own fate.

Fate said Gideon was going to kill her?  Yeah, she didn’t think so.  She’d fight like hell before she simply laid down, played dead and let it happen.  She had too much to live for now.  Too many people to love.  A bright, rosy Happy Ending (with a capital H and E) spread out before her, and she was going to live it.

Emma matched up the last pair of socks, placed them on her pile, and then walked the kid’s clothes to his room.  She finally understood what her dad meant that time he’d stopped to talk to her about holding on to the good moments.  So much had happened in the last year or so; so many moments when she almost lost it all.  She’d seen how fragile life could be; held Killian as his life bled from him.  Felt like her whole world shattered and would never be put back together.

But Zeus had given her True Love back to her, and she was going to make the most of every single moment she had with him from now until the day (hopefully many, many, many years in the future) that they died.  She was done with walls, done with secrets, done with protecting her heart.  Every fiber of it was his—as his was hers—and she would be completely open with him from here on out.

Speaking of Killian…he’d been acting strange since yesterday when she stopped by the house to get Henry’s life jacket.  He’d been so…quiet and distant when he got home last night.  She knew he’d been hanging out with her dad.  She hoped they hadn’t had a fight or something.  The bromance was strong between them, but every relationship had its ups and downs.

He’d stayed out on the front porch for a long time.  Emma was on the point of giving up on the movie and heading to bed, when he finally came in, shrugged out of his coat, placed it neatly on the coatrack, and came to sit beside her.

“Everything okay?” She’d asked as he slid his arm around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

“Aye, Swan,” he’d said wearily.  “Merely tired I suppose.”

There was something in his voice, something in his very demeanor…it was like a rain cloud had taken up residence over him.  She sat up and looked carefully into his eyes.  “I love you, Killian,” she said slowly.

He smiled then, but the smiled seemed almost sad.  Even so, he leaned forward and kissed her slow and deep.  “And I love you, Swan.  Always and forever.”

They’d gone up to bed not long after, and she’d almost forgotten his weird mood with the tenderness of his loving.  

But when she’d awoken this morning, he was already gone, having left her breakfast warming in the oven and a note saying he had errands he needed to run and he might be away most of the day.

She’d have to pry it out of him, just what was on his mind, but there was nothing she could do about it until he came back.  If he needed his space for a few hours, she’d give it to him.

After tossing her own clothes in their appropriate drawers and closet space, Emma placed Killian’s pile on top of his side of the drawer, and then started to turn away, when her eye suddenly fell on Killian’s old sea chest.  

When he’d gone to his ship to pack up his stuff and move in with her, he’d returned with nothing but this chest and a few assorted clothing items.  It surprised her that he’d pack so lightly.  She’d teased him about expecting a sentimental guy like him to have more loot.  He’d blushed, scratched behind his ear and told her he’d only brought his most treasured possessions, the things he couldn’t bear to be parted from.

He’d quickly changed the subject (to how desperate he wanted to kiss her…a topic that it took them many, many hours to exhaust), and she hadn’t pried farther.  She’d determined that she’d wait for him to share his past with her; she wouldn’t pry.

Still, standing here in the twilight, thinking about how easily their lives had blended together…well, curiosity got the better of her.  She listened carefully, making sure he hadn’t returned home while she worked, and then she crouched down, picked the ancient lock, and pushed the lid up.

Emma’s eyes immediately zeroed in on a small, square black box.  It was odd.  It looked far too modern to be in a chest of Killian’s prized possessions.  Her hand shook as she grasped the box, a sudden excitement taking over her as a premonition of what she might find flitted through her mind.  Flipping the lid open she found…a diamond ring.  

An engagement ring.

Tears filled her eyes as she gazed on the beautiful stone set in a silver band.  There was no mistaking what this was, what this signified. Killian wanted to marry her; planned to pop the question.

Emma waited a beat and then two, expecting the panic to rise up like it had that day in Camelot when he’d given her Liam’s ring, but the panic never came.  Only a joy like she’d never before felt.  She let the tears stream from her eyes as she reverently pulled the ring from its cushion and slid it onto the third finger of her left hand.

It fit perfectly, like it had been made for her.

Emma held her hand out in front of her, turning it this way and that as the last rays of the sun made it sparkle with all the colors of the rainbow.  It was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous, but it wasn’t the style and beauty of the ring that had her feeling as though she might die of happiness.  It was the meaning behind it, the sentiment it expressed.

Killian wanted to marry her.  He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her wanted to make a commitment to never leave, never stop loving her.  She’d never thought she’d have this; never thought it would happen.

Visions of long years, decades as Killian’s wife flashed before her eyes.  She saw them living together, sharing the hopes and dreams, the good times and bad, being the other half of each other’s heart.  Maybe they’d have another kid or two, a kid who’d have the happiest childhood known to man or woman, a kid who’d have two parents who would never leave, who would love him or her with every fiber of their beings. She imagined the two of them old and gray sitting out on a swing on the front porch, holding hands while they watched their grandkids, maybe even great-grandkids running around on the lawn.

There was nothing she wanted more, and she literally couldn’t wait for Killian to ask her; couldn’t wait to say yes!

And suddenly with that thought, all clicked into focus.   No wonder her ridiculous boyfriend had been acting weird the last few days.  He was nervous! He thought she might turn him down. (Silly pirate!)  She laughed joyously, thinking about how utterly ridiculous the very idea was.  Her turning him down!  

“Emma?  You home?”  He suddenly called just as she heard the front door close.

Emma twisted the ring off and put it in her pocket, the smile still covering her face.  Maybe it was time to reassure her pirate that she was ready for his proposal.  Maybe it was time to begin the rest of their lives.

[lil-nct-scenarios-11]

Jaehyun- Surprise

Group: NCT- Jaehyun

Theme: Request- Jaehyun catches you crying and you say it’s because of a sad story but it’s actually due to fan’s hate comments.

Type: One shot- angst + fluff

Plot: Fan hate comments have been taking a toll on your emotional health so Jaehyun gets a lil surprise for you that he knows will be the best way for you to get over the hurtful comments.

Your such a bitch you don’t deserve to be with Jaehyun

Your probably with him just to get fame

omg have you seen how miserable Jaehyun looks with that piece of trash, he probably hates her but is too nice to leave her sorry ass

I f***ing hate you, you dumb bitch hope you die you whore

Tears stream down your face as you look through all the resentful and crude fan hate comments on your laptop. You were just astonished by how people could be so mean to other people. At first, the comments never really bothered you because you never paid any attention to all the negativity, but as the months went along there seemed to be an abundance of nothing but hatred for your relationship with Jaehyun. They were starting to take a toll on you because all you see and hear is all hate. There were those really sweet fans who always left super supportive comments but they all seemed to drown in sea of negativity.

Some comments were quite powerful that made you question your relationship and some days all it took you was just a single comment for you to just break down. This isn’t healthy for your emotional health but you always remind yourself that you have a boyfriend who really does love you and wants to be with you. You never expected some of his ‘fans’ to be so cruel because Jaehyun is such a cheerful person and you’d except his fans to be the same but it took you by an unpleasant surprise.

You hear the front door unlock and you know your boyfriend is home now. You scramble around, trying to find tissues to wipe away the tear trails on your face.

“Babe, I’m home!” Jaehyun announces happily.

You get up from your spot on the living room and walk up to greet him. “Hey babe, how was your day?” you ask, crossing your arms to hide the tissues.

 “It was alright. Hey, are you ok, why are your eyes so red? Were you crying?” Jaehyun asks worriedly, walking up to hug you and plant a kiss on top of your head.

“Yea, I’m fine. I just got teary-eyed over this sad story I was reading online,” you try to lie reassuringly.

“Ah Y/N you don’t have to lie to me. It was those comments again wasn’t it?” he asks softly.

You nod lightly as you nestle your head in his chest and clutch his sweater, letting your tears fall freely. Jaehyun holds you reassuringly and comforts you gently. “I’m not gunna take this anymore. I don’t like that people who call themselves my ‘fans’ hurt you so much like this. All they do is spread around lies and they don’t get anything out of it. It just really upsets me, I’m sorry that you have to go thorough all these horrible things. I know you know that what they say isn’t true but I know how hurtful they are. It hurts me too, it breaks my heart to see you cry like this and the worst thing is that you aren’t even doing anything wrong. You try so hard to adjust and get used to being a girlfriend of an idol and people just try to bring you down. Okay I don’t want to talk about all this anymore, I got a surprise for you,” Jaehyun says suddenly, instantly changing the atmosphere.

“What?” you ask surprisedly.

“Well, it’s kind of a big surprise and it’s waiting for you patiently outside. Do you wanna come out and see what it is?” He asks lovingly, showing you his dimples.

You nod, “Sure.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the front door of your shared apartment. “Wait here,” he says as he pokes his head out from behind the door then closes it behind him.

You hear a lot of scuffling and scraping and you can’t help to wonder what it was. Jaehyun said it was something big and it sounds kinda heavy based on the thuds you were hearing. You were very tempted to just open the door and see what was waiting on the other side but just then Jaehyun opened the door with a cheeky smile. “Babe are you ready to welcome someone special into our home?” Jaehyun hinted as he opened the door all the way to reveal a golden retriever puppy.

You gasp and cover your mouth with your hands in shock. “Oh my gosh! Hello little pup, welcome to your new home! I’m so happy to meet you, my name is Y/N and this is Jaehyun. Oh Jaehyun, thank you so much,” you exclaim gleefully, throwing your arms around him. “Oh my gosh, thank you! I can’t believe you actually got her, we get to be proud parents of a little girl puppy! Oooh what are we gunna name her?”

“I thought you said you wanted to name her Myra when we first saw her,” he recalls.

“I can’t believe you remembered! Hey little Myra, do you wanna come in your new home now?” you ask excitedly, ruffling Myra’s fur as she eagerly barks.

You and Jaehyun move to the side to let Myra run inside the warm, cozy apartment for the first time. Her soft barks echoes in the empty apartment and you turn to hug Jaehyun tightly. “Thank you baby,” you say as you peck his lips sweetly.

“Haha, I know we’ve both been wanting her for a few weeks and since we both fell in love with her, I had to make sure we got her home. And now with Myra finally home, you won’t have time to be reading anything mean because little Myra here is gunna keep you very busy I sure,” he promises.

“Oh Myra watch out, don’t hit that vase baby!” you shout, running after her. You carry her in your arms and strut back to Jaehyun, sighing.

“Looks like she keeping you busy already,” Jaehyun chuckles.

*first of all, I’m not gud at writing mean comments and stuff so if the first part was off then just let it be bc we don’t need negativity in our lives (and yes I wrote the wrong ‘you’re’ on purpose because being mean is stupid)

*second of all, ive been really thinking about pets recently so that’s why a cute lil pup randomly showed up

* third of all, Happy Jaehyun day!!! I hope he gets to cuts some cake and be happy with people he cares about and stuff so hope he has a good one and I hope you guys have a good Valentine’s Day!

[kellyroseleecetechnologies]

[STUDIO] - Reflective Statements.

PART 1 - CONCEPTUAL STATEMENT

Her, as an artwork, came to fruition through a string of ideation and developments that all tell a story of learning and growth of practice. Coming from an audio-engineering background, I wanted to push my practice beyond recognition and combine it with skills and ideas that I was unfamiliar with in order to bring a powerful piece of work to life. Additionally, my own frustration with society as the result of my life experiences have motivated the story and shaped Her into the artwork she is today.

The piece stands approximately two metres tall and is a cylindrical sculpture comprised of fabric wrapped around torsos attached to an MDF frame. The torsos, cast and sculpted from real women, and vibrate based on the signal provided by an audio monologue of the same women talking about their perspective on female sexuality and how the idea relates to gender equality as a whole. The vibrations are created by servo motors that are controlled by an Arduino that receives data from a cellphone audio output. As a final aesthetic touch, the top of the sculpture of covered with flowers, vines, and seed lights are serve as additional symbolism for the female sexual organs - symbols that are also scattered around the parameter of the piece to accentuate the curves and shape of each torso.

I began this project after spending a long period of time in and out of hospital due to a gynaecological condition called endometriosis. As one may imagine, I was constantly barraged with questions from my peers about my conditions and my answers were often received with disgust and discomfort - as the result of talking about the female reproductive system. I was frustrated that an element of my body which was biologically identical to fifty percent of the population was some that people were disgusted by and I wanted to express this annoyance through my work. However, this frustration was developed when considering that people often reacted the same when I, as a female, spoke about my experience with my sexuality, and I realised that I wanted to make a statement about not just the female reproductive process, but female sexuality as a whole. When first conceived, Her was to be a playful, light-hearted piece that provided a platform for any women that felt irritated by society’s view in regards to our sexuality - a concept that was represented in many ways throughout the actual piece of work. However, this project has taught me more about the concept than I think the artwork itself will be able teach any of my viewers. Through my interactions with others regarding my work, I began to realise firstly the taboo I had experienced against female sexuality isn’t fixed; it’s fluid within different aspects of society. I’ve always understood that some people are more open to certain topics than others, especially topics of controversy (sexuality being among them). However, it’s never a case of some people perceiving an idea to be morally correct and others perceiving it to not be; everyone will have a difference experience with regards to taboo subjects. Some people have experience plentiful openness, some have experienced retribution for expressing an opinion on it, and others have simply never heard anyone talk about it at all. It’s a weird, complex labyrinth of confusion and warped social expectation that convince us to just not talk about stuff sometimes. The project also taught one other, very important thing. I originally made it a very clear decision that I did not want the piece to be a statement regarding either equality or rape culture - two concepts that I felt many people misunderstood my sculpture to be discussing throughout the duration of this project. However, a quote that I stumbled across during my research prompted a realisation that shifted this hugely, reading, “I don’t feel like being apologetic about my sexuality and that kind of attitude implies that my body is just there for someone else’s pleasure and not my own” (Papisova, 2015). I felt a huge shift in my mindset around my project upon reading this. I realised that all of these concepts that had been brought to my attention, be it the female body, female sexuality, rape culture, or general gender equality all came down to the same thing. They’re all elements of the same, overall problem that many women in society feel like they’re having to fight for the ownership of their own bodies. Suddenly, Her was much bigger and much more important than I realised, and my statement about sexuality became a stand for my fellow women.

The physical shape of the sculpture evolved over time to become a true embodiment of female sexuality as a concept, through symbolism, absurdity and likenesses. I spent some time thinking about how I could capture the essence of intimacy, femininity and sexuality all at once, and due to the particular Studio stream I was in, I really wanted to use shape to do so. I began to explore possible symbols that I could use to achieve this, during which time my research pointed me in the direction of using the female form. The curves and silhouette of the female body offered a recognisable symbol for my topic and thus I began to consider how I could manipulate space and shape using this silhouette. This concept was developed further when I communicated to my peers the motivation I had in mind, and was met with a lot of confusion; it became common for me to be told that it was just a very weird project. This inspired me to explore the idea of absurdity and obscurity within art, and I began to think about how I could make an unconventional piece of work using the female form (the shapes for which I cast from real women to demonstrate the reality of the issues discussed). I originally conceptualised a wall-mounted artwork with female torsos emerging from the piece, but then felt that a wall-mounted piece would be too conventional and expected, thus unlikely to prompt any social challenge - a decision that also provided logistical and economic solutions. Mounted a piece to the wall was going to take a lot of money, which I did not have, as well as presenting issues as to where to locate the mechanisms within the piece. Therefore, I considered more absurd, obscure and intrusive shapes which lead me to designing a large, cylindrical pillar that somewhat resembled a sex toy. The new design offered a 360 degree perspective for viewers, allowing them to really immerse themselves in the piece. They weren’t just staring at a wall anymore, but rather moving around it and exploring every angle. I felt that this would really bring my message from a concept or social statement into a real world scenario and this was a powerful opportunity for me to take. Additionally, a big tube of female body parts sticking up randomly from the ground was super obnoxious and confronting - which worked perfectly considering that I wanted people to be taken aback by my piece. I feel that my concept is all about being blunt; I want the work to be right in the faces of my audience and be unapologetic about it. Furthermore, the shape was somewhat phallic - similar in silhouette to that of a sex-toy - and frankly, that’s kind of why it works. Admittedly, the piece is specifically about female sexuality, so references to male sexuality seem counter-productive. However, constructing a male sexual organ out of female body parts says a lot about the power the sexuality has to offer everyone. It’s subtle, but it gives an underlying level of chemistry that I really, really like.

A significant aspect of the project was driven by a desire push my learning far beyond my comfort zone while entirely reshaping what I already knew. I’ve worked as an audio engineer for approximately five years and I chose the Revenge of Space, Image and Sound stream to provide an opportunity to use these skills. However, I wanted to fin an unconventional way to use sound in order to push myself as a practitioner and essentially flip my skillset on its head. The film Baby Driver (Wright, 2017) provided the inspiration I needed to do exactly this; it was a recurring motif within the film for a character with a hearing impairment to touch speakers in order to feel the vibrations of the music. These moments in the film were, in my opinion, deeply powerful and gave you an emotional understanding that the character was happily losing themselves in the music. The gravity of the emotive response the technique achieved prompted me to consider how I could use the vibrations of sound as opposed to the sound itself, and thus the idea of creating a sculpture to be touched by the audience was born. The mechanism for the vibrations was originally going to be comprised of a single subwoofer driver that would project the vibrations through the entirety of the piece, however costs and other logistical issues interfered with this concept. I then developed a way to replicated these effects by creating a circuit that converted audio signal into vibrations through servo motors. This process was simply one example of how this piece of work truly allowed me to explore more complex technical skills. The project also gave me an opportunity to learn how to solder properly, work with wood to create structurally sound framework, and development the programming skills in order to control the servos with my Arduino. Her is the perfect example of learning through making - an idea that I’ve always struggled with and am excited to be utilising now.

If considering what I originally set out to achieve - a cheeky, light-hearted, wall-mounted art piece that aimed to make girls feel good about their sexuality in a society that didn’t often have space to do so - then I believe I have failed. The piece I firstly conceptualised is obsolete and dead. Her has moved so far beyond this initial idea, morphing and developing into something entirely recognisable yet infinitely stronger in both physical and theoretical forms. I hope to use what I’ve learned during this time in future works; I threw myself so far out of my comfort zone with this piece that I never want to be comfortable ever again.

PART 2 - CONTEXTUAL STATEMENT

Her, as a sculptural installation, serves as an artistic representation of my own experience with societal attitudes towards female sexuality and thus falls into various areas of artistic and social contexts. Both the piece’s story and design were significantly shaped by other artists, other pieces of work, and social perspectives themselves to create and develop into the final outcome that exists today.

As I was creating a piece that one may describe as feminist, I felt it imperative in the early stages of the project to truly get a grasp on what feminism truly meant and what the social context that my work was to fit in - a context that shift through the duration of the project. According to dictionary.com, the term feminism could be defined as, “the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights of women equal to those of men.” I felt this definition to be a powerful summary of what my piece aimed to achieve in it’s early stages. Online, it has become the belief that this term in synonymous with equality, and I disagree. I personally don’t really believe that feminism is the right word for equality - I think that equality is the perfect word on it’s own. I believe that feminism is focussed on the rights of women and ensuring that they are equal to the rights of other genders as described by the aforementioned definition - and in my opinion, there is a difference. The reason I originally referred to my piece as feminist art is because I was focussed purely on embracing women and female sexuality. However, as the project progress and I learned more about this overarching issue of women feeling like they were losing ownership of their bodies (as I described in depth in my Contextual Statement), I began to feel that a purely feminist context was an incorrect representation of the work I was producing. My work was no longer simply focussed on embracing female sexuality, but rather fighting for an equal standard of respect for the bodies of all genders. While this shift did not influence the design of the sculpture itself, it influenced both the monologues that are converted into movement for the vibrations on the piece and the presentation/display design for exhibition. When recording the monologues, I asked the women to talk about the original topic (female sexuality) first, and then their opinions on the wider issue. This is where I got so much of the content that I used, especially as their frustration grew when I asked the second question and thus they raised their voices. This increase in frustration is captured as the higher volume causes the servos to vibrate more furiously, meaning that my audience would feel the increase in the gravity of the overall problem. Additionally, I wanted to ensure that when walking toward my piece, before interacting with it, the audience already understood that sex was just one small aspect of a larger issue. Therefore, I decided to stick white vinyl decals to the floor around the piece, introducing the piece as a statement on sex (as achieved through a piece that read, “Her. A girl’s perspective on sex”) but also featuring a quote that implied the issue stretched beyond that. I left the thought in the viewers head and they were then instructed through a third decal to interact and feel the voices of the women I spoke to.

The aesthetic, materials and story of my piece have been significantly influenced by the works of other artists working within similar sculptural, social and technical contexts. I was inspired very early on by the work of Sarah Lucas, a British artist that used sculptures of the human body to explore humour and mischief (Higgins, 2015). Of particular interest to me was her piece, Nice Tits, a crude collection of breasts made from pantyhose taking the rough form of a human figure while suspended over a pair of thigh-high boots. It’s simultaneously carefree yet immaculately planned and perfectly executed, creating a sense of perfectly designed chaos, absurdity and flirtation that makes the audience look twice. I took guidance from the perfectly chaotic arrangement of the breasts for my work; I felt that her structure made the piece more obscure and confronting for the viewer and this confrontational element of the piece was something I really wanted my own to demonstrate for the sake of my message. I also took significant inspiration from her use of large breasts and the silhouette of the female form for use as a physical symbol that my audience would associate with female flirtation and therefore, female sexuality. I felt that this piece truly amplified the importance of symbolism in sculptural art, an importance that was pushed further into my mind by another piece by a different artist, Judy Chicago. Her piece, The Dinner Party (1974) includes a 48 feet long triangular table, serves as an acknowledgement of the contributions to the feminist movement made by 1038 women all throughout human history, and is currently displayed in the Brooklyn Museum. 39 of these women and their stories are represented by detailed place-setting at the triangular table - which is divided into three wings and organised by periods of time in history during which each woman lived - while the remaining 999 women referenced are acknowledged through inscriptions along the floor - referred to as the Heritage Floor - upon which the magnificent work sits. This piece serves as the ultimate example of symbolism in art, from the motifs used to describe the storied of the historical and mythical women depicted in the place settings all the way through to the shape of the table that demonstrates the universal symbol for equality. The symbolism within the piece takes place in every single element - every shape, every silhouette, every colour. It highlights the importance of attention to detail within artwork, and how the slightest different impacts the final outcome of a piece. The learning that I took from Chicago’s piece was another driving force behind the decision to take the sculpture off the wall and create it around a large, phallic form instead. I noticed the shape wasn’t representation of the story and therefore, not appropriate for the work itself. I had the opportunity to convey a message, therefore I had the responsibility to consider how each detail may impact that final message.

Furthermore, the technical details of the piece were also influenced by another piece of art; Milch - by Carsten Nicolai (2000). The piece explored the disorder that resulted from exposing milk to a range of frequency oscillations (sine waves that began at 10 hertz and ended at 150 hertz). The physical distortion caused by the sine waves upon the liquid was photographed and printed on aluminium for the final pieces of art. The thing that enchanted me the most about this piece is how fundamental the ideas are. Frequency oscillations are such a simple, yet so unique form of sound that has such an interesting impact that the world around you. To be honest, sine waves in any form - auditory or mathematical - have such a powerful contribution to the foundations of so many aspects of physics and mathematics that they’ve become such a foundational element to the scientific world. The piece not only encouraged me to explore simpler symbols within my work (such as the female body or flowers) to tell a story in a powerful way, but also was the catalyst for my investigation into the physicality of sound and using the vibrations from sound as opposed to the sound itself. While the actual concept of touching vibration to feel sound did not come to me until after watching the film Baby Driver (Wright, 2017) - as mentioned in my conceptual statement - Nicolai’s piece introduced me to the realisation that one sense (such as sight or touch) can influence another (such as sound). When looking at the piece, I felt like I could feel the oscillations vibrating through me and hear the frequency in my head. This is what I was inspired to achieve with my piece and I feel that I achieved this effectively - my audience may not actually be able to hear anything, but the simulation of their touching sense through the vibrations of the sculpture would create the illusion of an auditory experience.

For the first time in my creative career, I created a space for my project to be influenced by research through making and testing. I decided very early on that I needed to push myself within my working practice throughout this process and an element of this was acknowledging that I am a planner, not a maker. I prefer to live within the safety-net of meticulous conceptualising and this has lead to any past issues with running out of time to actually realise my ideas. Therefore, I opted to dive into the deep end with this project and include a large practical aspect in my design process. This included plentiful prototyping of techniques and materials that ultimately decided what my piece would be made from and how I would make it. The type of fabric and setting agent (glue) used came from small scale testing on various fabrics with various agents to determine products that would portray the silhouette of the human form most effectively. Additionally, the method of applying the agent to my fabric before shaping it to the form resulted from the failure of other techniques throughout the making process. This method replaced my previous habit of making decisions based on readings and theory - a habit that was substantial flawed due to the practical different between theory and reality. I believe that this project is to the standard that it is due to this process. This allowed me to explore exactly how I could achieve the appropriate design in the most practical and effective way, something I’ve never been able to accomplish in a project prior to attempting this technique.

As a project, I feel that Her has become more than merely an artwork forming a sum of its parts, but rather an embodiment of passion, politics and practice. The piece is comprised of elements that have come to be from extensive research that bond together to represent an idea that is so much bigger than just fabric, glue, flowers, and electronics. It does more than look like the idea of female sexuality or tell a story of the concept, but rather is the voice itself that tells the story. In a way, I feel that while the artwork falls within any of the contexts discussed, it creates a context on its own - a hybridised, multi-disciplinary exemplification of my learning and my passion for kindness within humanity.

REFERENCES

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Higgins, C. (2015, May 7). Sarah Lucas: "I have several penises, actually". Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2015/may/06/sarah-lucas-venice-biennale-interview

Lucas, S. (2011). Nice Tits. [Tights, fluff, wire mesh frame, concrete boots.] San Fransisco: Legion of Honour.

Murrell, M. (2017). This artist takes food porn to another level — literally. Retrieved from https://www.buzzfeed.com/morganmurrell/this-artist-takes-food-porn-to-another-level-literally?utm_term=.afDne5YPl#.nsvbQv0ZD

Nicolai, C. (2000). Milch. [Print on Aluminium]

Papisova, V. (2017, May 25). Here's what 20 girls in their 20s love about masturbation. Retrieved from https://www.teenvogue.com/story/20-girls-give-masturbation-advice

Pulley, A. (2014, March 19). 9 coolest things about female sexuality. Retrieved from https://www.alternet.org/sex-amp-relationships/9-coolest-things-about-female-sexuality

Renner, C. (2016, October 6). Sexuality according to Sara Lorusso. Retrieved from https://www.ignant.com/2016/10/06/sexuality-according-to-sara-lorusso/

Wright, E. (Director). (2017). Baby driver [Motion picture]. USA: Working Title Films.