#there’s so many upsides that have helped tremendously | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 7 months ago

Text

Steve Brodner

* * * *

RISE OF "THE BRAT PACK DEMOCRATS"

TCinLA

Aug 19, 2024

This is from Anand Giridharadas’ Substack, “The Ink.” I for one am glad to see the rise of what he calls “The Brat Pack” Democrats. This is the kind of Democratic Party I’ve been wanting to see since the Yuppie Democrats first showed up in the 1970s.

THE RISE OF THE "BRAT PACK" — AND A NEW DEMOCRATIC POLITICAL STYLE

At the DNC, a political approach long relegated to the wings takes center stage

By Anand Giridharadas

The great political story of 2024 is President Biden’s decision to stand aside in favor of Vice President Kamala Harris. It is a story of selflessness, of a generational transition in the rise of Harris, and of a woman who has at times struggled to command the narrative coming into her own in a way that has energized the party, turned the race upside down, and roused deadened souls.

But this story, as dramatic as it is, may obscure the deeper story, which is less about the transition from one leader to another and more about the ascendance of a new political style at the top of the Democratic Party. We are witnessing the rise of what I’m calling the Brat Pack, and with it a new approach that elevates attention over restraint, storytelling over self-explanatory policy mindedness, fight picking over always taking the high road, and thrilling the base over diluting for moderates.

For years, I have reported on a quiet civil war within the Democratic Party. If I had to sum up the schism, I would say that one side was defined by sobriety, risk aversion, a focus on doing the work rather than talking about it, staying high-minded, and refusing to compete for attention with a carnival barker. The other side was more interested in risk-taking, storytelling as a paramount goal, speaking to emotion, making people feel things and want to sing from the rooftops, grabbing and holding attention. In recent years, the former camp has been firmly in command.

But the other faction was lurking around all along. Perhaps they were deputies rather than principals, and they went with the dominant approach despite their yearning to try something new. Often they were earlier in their careers, and they told themselves that they were putting in their time, and one day they would usher in the new ways.

My best, most distilled understanding of what has happened in the transition to a Kamala Harris campaign is that the civil war has turned. Harris may have inherited much of Biden’s campaign apparatus and its players, but many at the top are new — Harris’s people. And in the giant threadbare temporary startup that is a presidential campaign, the faction that long wanted a different, fresher way seems to be winning.

With apologies to the earlier incarnation, I’ll call them the Brat Pack, after the campaign’s embrace of a pop star’s embrace of Harris. I believe their rise is the most underrated story of this race, and the real subtext of what we’re about to see at the convention this week. And so in what follows I wanted to break down some of the defining features of the new Brat Pack approach — the new style and orientation that is taking over the Democratic Party.

There are several elements we can point to as part of the Brat Pack way, and close readers of The Ink over these years will have heard us champion some of them.

STORYTELLING. The Brat Pack approach emphasizes storytelling over the idea that good policies and good results should be self-explanatory. We are seeing a shift from a view of “The work should speak for itself” to “Nothing speaks for itself. You’ve got to tell the story.” I often detected in my conversations with high-level Democrats a contempt for story. It took different forms. In 2019, I wrote about Bernie Sanders’s near-refusal to tell his own personal family story, even though it would have helped him tremendously, as many of his staffers believed and argued to him. The Biden administration was huge on tangible accomplishments and improvements in inflation numbers and relatively less interested in touting these things in ways that broke through — which you can blame on the media, but when you’re blaming the media, you’re losing. My best-faith understanding of this way is that it comes from a sense that voters should be treated with respect, as reasoning creatures who will appreciate actual achievements and will reward you for what the documented progress actually is. The Brat Pack is moving away from this “nose to the grindstone” approach. Sometimes you’ve got to rise from the grindstone and sing for all to hear.

ATTENTION. The Brat Pack stresses attention. Its approach reflects an overriding interest in commanding it. Too many of us in the media and in politics and in book publishing and many of the other worlds I know best are still living in the past. Stuck in a world in which Walter Cronkite told millions of people what they needed to know and how to think. We have not adjusted to a new media world whose fundamental quality is fragmentation and whose most precious resource, therefore, is human attention. The until-now-dominant approach didn’t see the pursuit of attention as an end in itself. Sure, you wanted people to know about your policies and vision, but you wouldn’t necessarily contort yourself to make people notice. You wouldn’t make weird videos, try weird stuff. You wouldn’t experiment, as I have long urged President Biden to do, with reviving FDR’s Fireside Chats for the twenty-first century. You wouldn’t take the risk of doing a stunt or being hyper-reactive for the sake of commanding notice. There was a sneering at the attention-seizers. When someone like Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez rose on the strength of her attentional intelligence, some dismissed her and others struggled to emulate her, showing the distance between the mainstream and her. Under Harris, the Brat Pack is showing a complete break from the old approach. The new style centers the pursuit of attention, embraces memes, is willing to try weird things, and, above all, understands that you win when people cannot look away. We are finally not having Trump’s conversation.

EMOTION. One of the most interesting debates I’ve had in recent years, with people who think deeply about fighting authoritarianism, is about whether pro-democracy movements can and should seek to compete with autocrats’ skill at catering to the emotions. My former New York Times colleague Roger Cohen and I had a spirited back-and-forth about this not long ago, after he wrote about fascism’s power to “get the blood up” and democracy’s relative dullness, its almost purposeful dullness. Roger channeled a view that has been very influential in general, including at the highest levels of the Democratic Party: that you don’t want to become like the fascists in fighting the fascists (which, fair enough), and (here I get more skeptical) that this means carrying yourself as the sober counter to their electric pursuit of sentiment. This is where I, along with many of the people lurking in the wings whom I’ve been reporting on, disagree. I believe it is totally possible to make people feel big feels for the democratic cause, and I don’t think it’s dangerous. But the vibes faction wasn’t in charge all these years. And now, in the rise of the Brat Pack, they are. If I understand them right, they believe at bottom that you can, and indeed must, seek to compete with fascists for the emotional life of people, that you must take an organizer’s approach to helping people process a bewildering age and the dislocations of change and the resentments that come with progress and the pain of capitalist predation. The new style recognizes emotional labor, if you will, as vital to political work. That is why Harris and Governor Tim Walz are constantly talking about “joy.” That is why the campaign has embraced the notion of the centrality of vibes, not just policy. The Brat Pack doesn’t have any disdain for emotion.

CULTURE. The Brat Pack wants to play in the culture. A constant lament of organizers and activists and electoral campaigners on the broad left in recent years has been the lack of savvy engagement in the culture. The right has its MAGA hats. Where were the left’s hats? The right has racist songs about small towns. What anthems have risen to the fore and held the nation in thrall to represent values of pluralism, multi-racial democracy, and freedom? For some years now, Democrats have been absent from the culture of the nation in a way that makes no sense given the party’s near-monopoly on top-tier artists who side with them. In the rise of the Brat Pack, you’re seeing a total shift. Memes are back, and there is a willingness to engage with them, in spite of the risk of backfiring or losing a little dignity. There is a Beyoncé anthem that makes the campaign’s rallying cry of “freedom” something that can be felt in the body, not just known in the mind. You can imagine prior generations of Democratic campaigns that would have tried to rein in Vice President Harris’s laugh because of right-wing attacks on it, or told Governor Walz to stop his hilarious habit of doing a Broadway-style leg kick on stage. But this is no longer that kind of Democratic campaign. Something, once again, has shifted. There is on the upswing a view that if you can leap from politics into the culture, always take that deal.

GOING LOW. The Brat Pack is worried about going high when they go low. Former first lady Michelle Obama has said she was misunderstood when she said, “When they go low, we go high.” She said she never meant it as a call for unilateral disarmament. But that notion of going high and staying high, even in the face of true depredation from the extreme right, has felt like the dominant approach in recent years — and often a very frustrating one. Many Democrats in recent years have been hesitant to punch back, wary of name-calling, averse to impugning motives and tarring genuinely un-American policies as un-American. As Senator Chris Murphy told me some time ago, “Democrats, we believe in subtleties. We don’t believe in good and evil. We believe in relativity. That needs to change.” Well, it’s a’changing right now. The Brat Pack is breaking from Michelle Obama’s famous phrase. It is not interested in going high no matter what. It is not interested in staying above the fray. It has finally embraced the kind of rapid reaction to Trump’s madness that has long been called for. And the tone of the Harris campaign’s statements is breathtakingly fresh, a true and very notable break from the “go high” way.

MOBISUASION. Perhaps the most politically significant element of the Brat Pack’s way is the rise of what one of its leading gurus, Anat Shenker-Osorio, calls “mobisuasion.” This is the theory that Democrats should not seek to persuade by diluting their offerings to reach out to the middle, the moderates, the centrists, whatever. Rather, they should seek to “animate the base to persuade the middle.” You mobilize your own people, your core supporters, offering them things that genuinely excite them, and you trust that their excitement will be infectious, creating a contagion that eventually touches their more conservatives relatives and neighbors and friends. Anat, who is no stranger to Ink readers, is perhaps the person who has recently experienced the biggest shift from “excellent advice not being listened to” to “excellent advice now steering the whole ship.” She is the philosopher-queen of the Brat Pack, and in some sense what we are seeing now is the triumph of her and her allies’ approach, at last. You don’t have to know whether the people running the Harris campaign are listening to Anat’s methods to know that they clearly are.

In theory, Mobisuasion sounds great, right? But it hasn’t really been embraced at the highest levels in recent years. Instead, what has dominated is a fetish for courting Ohio-Diner Americans — white-working-class, moderate or even right-leaning voters who tend to think Democrats are communists and God haters. Memo: Those people often fail to come around, despite the attention lavished on them, and in the meantime, the courting of them, and the dilution it requires, depresses the hell out of your base, and nobody is left very happy. The Brat Pack, thanks to Anat’s long campaign of persuasion to change how Democrats seek to persuade, is embracing mobisuasion. If you look closely, you will notice that this campaign is the first in memory seemingly not to worry a lot about the Ohio-Diner American vote. Which is not to say they are not courting it. But they are not tempering the message for white-working-class voters. They are inviting them to come aboard the joy train. It is a campaign that is not centered on reassuring the people the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King called the “white moderate.” In selecting Walz as her running mate, Harris instead seemed to choose an approach of showing many white-working-class voters that they can be who they are and be part of a pluralist future and be allies. They can join the future. The future won’t stop for them.

RECLAIMING. The Brat Pack is helping Harris reclaim the mistakenly forsaken frames of patriotism and freedom. As two insightful recent reports in The Times have observed, Harris has embraced the language of freedom typically heard from Republicans and embraced the language of patriotism also claimed by the right — finding her own progressive incarnations of these ideas. These twin embraces have been championed by voices like Anat’s in recent years, but they have struggled to come to pass for a few reasons. One is that elements of the progressive left are deeply uncomfortable with patriotism and with a frame of freedom, finding them right-wingy and cringe. Another is that more moderate elements of the left sometimes do talk in this way but end up adopting Republican frames in the process that undermine Democrats’ goals. It’s not helpful to talk about patriotism if you’re going to use that to support draconian counterterrorism policies; it’s not helpful to talk up freedom if you’re going to use that to undercut universal healthcare. What is happening now, and perhaps reflects the Brat Pack’s way, is an interest in claiming patriotism but making it one’s own, a progressive patriotism for a multiracial democracy that is still in the works, a way of talking about American democracy that doesn’t erase what’s wrong nor skip over all that’s right. In many ways, it is a way of talking about patriotism that grows out of communities of color and stretches back to the Civil Rights Movement, where Dr. King found ingenious ways of honoring the American founding fathers and documents while invoking them to summon the nation to resolve unfinished business:

“When the architects of our great republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir…Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given its colored people a bad check, a check that has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt…So we have come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom…”

These are the elements of change as I see them. Admittedly, it’s early days. And I can only see what I see from the outside, observing the results of the work. I am not privy to the mechanics of how a new crop of strategists is overturning the old ways. And, of course, many of the people driving these changes have been in campaigns all along. This is not a question of old staff being replaced by new staff. It is, from what I gather from people close to the process, a matter of old ideas being replaced by new ones, and the new ideas being carried out by a team of old and new hands, some of whom have long been waiting for this day to come.

Beyond the specific elements, a final word about what they add up to. The Brat Pack is pushing the Democratic Party in a more dice-rolling direction. Take the risk, try the weird thing, shock people a little, channel your inner Bonnie Raitt and let’s give ’em something to talk about. It is the rise, perhaps, of a more fearless Democratic Party: fearless about how it communicates and crafts statements, fearless about not pandering to the white moderate, fearless in picking a vice presidential nominee based on chemistry rather than electoral calculus, fearless about hitting back and even being deservedly vicious, fearless about making jokes about Walz’s inability to eat spices and trusting that people will appreciate the playful ribbing rather than believe, with Ben Shapiro, that whiteness is under attack, fearless in shaking things up on the assumption that the old ways won’t beat fascism.

Yes, we have a new candidate in Harris. But don’t sleep on the deeper shift. A new political style is on the rise. The Brat Pack has a plan to defeat Trump. Will it work?

[TCinLA]

#TCinLA #Brat Pack Dems #Change the conversation #election 2024 #Harris/Watz #emotion #attention #storytelling #Anand Giridharadas

6 notes · View notes

orthodoxadventure · 1 year ago

Text

In the fourth century, a great Orthodox theologian, St. Gregory of Nazianzus (also called 'the Theologian') described our religion as 'suffering Orthodoxy' - and so it has been from the beginning, throughout the whole history of the Church. The followers of the crucified God have suffered persecution and tortures. Almost all the apostles died as martyrs, Peter being crucified upside down, and Andrew being crucified on an x-shaped cross. During the first three centuries of Christianity, believers fled to the catacombs and endured tremendous sufferings. It was in the catacombs that the Church's Divine services -- which we celebrate today in a form little changed since that time -- were worked out in an atmosphere of constant expectation of death. After the age of the catacombs there was the struggle to remain the purity of the Faith, when many teachers tried to substitute personal opinions for the Divinely revealed teachings given by our Lord Jesus Christ. In later centuries, there were the invasions of Orthodox countries by Arabs, Turks, other non-Christian people, and finally -- in our own days -- by Communists. Communism, which has persecuted religion as it has never been persecuted before, has attacked first of all precisely the Orthodox lands of Eastern Europe. As can be seen, therefore, our Faith actually is a suffering Faith; and in this suffering, something goes on which helps the heart to receive God's revelation.

-- God's Revelation to the Human Heart by Father Seraphim Rose

#Saint Gregory the Theologian #Fr Seraphim Rose #Christianity #Orthodox Christianity #Religion

8 notes · View notes

excelsia · 2 years ago

Text

Oath of Blood and Fire

Chapter III

“Don’t panic, she must be somewhere.” Daemon’s voice tried to comfort her, but his wife wouldn’t hear it, as she paced and stomped in the great hall.

“I can’t calm down, I don’t where is my daughter !” She shouted, “They have searched for her in the whole citadel: nothing.”

Jace looked at his mother, worried. It has been a few hours since Visenya went missing and many patrols had turned the castle upside down looking for her. Her quarters were empty, and they had noticed her horse was missing. Daemon sighed and couldn’t help but wonder what was she up to. He couldn’t accept the possibility that she had fled in fear of going to the capital, but to take her horse and leave without a say also seemed part of the character and he knew she was up to something.

Jace got up suddenly and bang his hand against the closest table.

“I’m going.”

“Where? Do you even know where she is?” Rhaenyra hissed.

“I-I don’t but I can’t just stay there !”

“You stay there.” Daemon objected, “She may have gone to the wood, she often goes there.”

“She would have said something.” Rhaenyra argued, “I think that the patrol would have found her by now.”

Daemon sighed and turned to the window looking to the faraway distance.

“And so if she didn’t go to the woods…” Luke stated.

Rhaenyra began to think even harder. Visenya wasn’t the type to act impulsively, but she knew she was the type to have a clear idea in mind and won’t back down from it. Just like her… So where would she go when the departure for King's Landing was the next day?

“Dragonmont,” Daemon whispered as if he exactly knew what Rhaenyra was about to say. But something in his voice wasn’t right, she turned to look at him. “The Cannibal is flying from the Dragonmont.”

The mother rushed to the window, and as she saw that massive jet-black stain in the sky, she frowned, horrified.

“Tell the knight to ready themselves,” She began, “He’s going straight to Dragonstone.”

“Don’t.” Daemon loudly contradicted, leaving the knight in their presence in disbelief, “Look.”

Jace and Luke followed their mother to the window. The wide hole in the sky was indeed the Cannibal… He was ridden by Visenya, her dark dress, with purple and red hem cloth waved in the distance.

Visenya herself had a moment of disbelief as the Cannibal bent his head over to let her ride him. But as she flew over to the castle of her ancestors, it somehow immediately made sense. She couldn’t see herself without the creature now and knowing that he will come with her to King’s Landing filled her with, for the first time, a feeling of tremendous power.

The feeling in itself was addictive. The air caressed her hand and beneath her, she could feel that pit of fire burning higher and higher, the sound of the wind hitting the rock-hard skin of her new companion. Because this creature she had just met felt like a person she had always known, who shared the same drive, the same soul and the same burning obsession to fully and chaotically exist…

The dragon landed on the volcanic road toward the castle as Rhaenyra and her family were rushing to see Visenya. The latter had come down from her dragon, feeling for the first the feeling to have a bond with one. A mystic feeling that she swore to herself to never forget. The Cannibal growled on and on, perpetually but when he plunged his stare into hers, the creature felt familiar with her as well as she did with him. The two shared a fury that they could let unfurled together.

“Visenya !” She heard being shouted, she could hear her mother and Luke.

When the distance between them had disappeared, Rhaenyra took her daughter in her arms, holding her as if she could disappear again. Luke grabbed her by her waist and did the same.

Jace rushed towards her as well as Daemon looked at her, a smile on his face. He was proud.

“Don’t ever dare to do that again !” Rhaenyra said in her daughter’s ears who winced.

“Yeah, I know.” She simply answered.

Rhaenyra cupped her daughter’s face with her hands and took a good look at her. She frowned as she saw how stained and dirty her dress was.

“What is that? On you…” She asked.

Visenya look down at her clothes, “That’s a dragon egg, it got crushed when I bonded with my dragon.”

Rhaenyra looked at her, the smell of organic fluid assaulting her nose, then at the Cannibal. She knew. Her motherly instincts urged her to take her daughter away from the beast but she knew that there was no stopping a bond.

“You could have got killed.” She says coldly.

“I didn’t.” Visenya sighed, “We’ve bonded.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, “You went to Dragonmont without telling me or your father, have gone you mad ?!”

Visenya couldn’t believe how her mother was incapable to recognise that what she just did was actually a good thing, how it is going to make her look more legitimate, Visenya wanted to be seen as a person that possessed power.

“You broke the Dragonkeeper laws if you didn’t bond you would have paid the price of your impulsiveness.”

“No matter, I have a dragon, mother.”

Rhaenyra immediately felt enraged as the situation felt familiar, she felt like Queen Alicent went she discovered her son bonded with Vhagar, to the cost of his eye. She felt her daughter so distant that she didn’t know if she could be reached anymore.

Before she could even tell, Visenya was walking towards the castle, ending the argument.

Daemon shared a look with Rhaenyra and nodded: he’ll take care of her. Then he went after his daughter.

“Don’t shut your mother out.” He said to her, “She doesn’t want you to be hurt again.”

Visenya walked in a trance-like state and it reminded Daemon of how soldiers and knights look after a battle they’ve won. They feel mortal and immortal at the same time, and the power of ending a life makes them feel somehow alienated. Visenya seemed to have won her war. Daemon however was short-tempered and waiting for an answer that never came he took her by her shoulder.

“If it’s because of that stupid eye thing-”

“I know I carved into him as much as he carved into me, Father.” She gasped suddenly letting her anger out, “I witnessed on that night how everything was close to crumbling.”

The Cannibal suddenly roared at the distance, howling and growling in a terrifying stance, before taking off. Visenya looked at her dragon flying before turning her back and walking to the castle.

Daemon sighed then scoffed, wondering how time flew, from that little girl who was crying at night from nightmares begging him for a comforting embrace to a young woman as mature and resolved to the point of a maddening stubbornness.

“I’m still proud of you, you know.” He eventually said. “You even can demand a prize. The former King had declared he would offer gold and lands to the one who killed or bonded with the Cannibal.”

Visenya, however mad she was couldn’t retain the smile her father could give her; so she entered the castle with him by her side.

The next few days were spent at sea. When the family had embarked, Luke had immediately felt sick, the servants rushing to get him medicine. Rhaenyra, however, was dauntless. How could Vaemond Velaryon dare to question her son’s legitimacy? She had an agreement with Corlys Velaryon, and she didn’t do everything that she did until now to back down to his sudden outburst. As such, the whole ship was tensed as the determination of the Princess of Dragonstone submerged the atmosphere. It was a one-week travel to arrive the same day as Vaemond, the captain felt the pressure to arrive on time.

Jace paced on the deck of the boat, from which Visenya look at the blue horizon while caressing her little brother’s back to support him in his discomfort. The oldest of the trio had his brows awfully frowned, the last time he had to spend time with his uncles, he had ended up beaten up to the floor and his sister disfigured. He knew all too well how they would jump on the occasion to mock and humiliate them again. He wouldn’t let this happen again.

Her eyes trained on the gigantic blue, Visenya felt as calm as the sea. Not a sound could be heard apart from the footsteps of Jacearys, the deep sea before her reflected perfectly the blue sky, united in one and only view. She knew what were her brother’s thoughts, for every time their uncles were mentioned, Jace had that furious glare, she could already see him ball up his fist and aim for Aegon’s nose. A thought that always warmed her heart, for she knew that her brother was ready to fight for their family. Within her, she didn’t feel any rage at that moment, but excitation. The courtiers’ faces when they’ll see her on the Cannibal was an image she was already ready to ravish for the rest of her life, it even shocked her how calm she was as she noticed a darker spot on the water’s surface. She looked up, the darker spot was now covering the sun for a short instant. The Cannibal was flying above her, as the other dragons did, however, while Caraxes flew next to Syrax in beautiful harmony, and Vermax and Arrax seemed to skim the sky calmy, the Cannibal was an abyss in the sky that aspired every doubt Visenya could hold. The thing was massive, flying far from the others and even though he seems cordial with her step-father’s dragon, he completely ignored the other. People on board looked at him as if they had just seen one lonely crow on a silent morning. It was much to her pleasure to look at him, for she thought that he may be the cause of such a calmness in her heart.

“If Vaemond questioned Luke’s legitimacy, it means he’s sure he will have gain to his cause.” Jace finally erupted.

Visenya turned to face him while holding Luke’s back.

“It means he is sure of the Hand and the Queen’s support.” He continued.

“Well, that’s obviously true, Brother.” Visenya agreed without giving it much thought.

“But how can they ?” Jace kept on, “The King himself affirmed mother’s position, and all of ours too.”

Visenya sighed, “The question is more, how could they not ?”

Jace frowned.

“Brother we all know how our position has been questioned since our very births, while I have to admit that I was surprised to hear that Lord Vaemond contests these agreements when I think about it objectively; it was but a question of time before it happened.” Visenya calmly declared, “Anyone who looks at the situation would expect this.”

Before she could even blink, Jace lips curled in a furious stance and he was before her, his face close enough to tower over her with his height.

“We are Velaryon, and unless both the King and Lord Corlys had said otherwise, we are to access the duties that come with the name.”

Visenya looked at her brother, unfazed. She knew how taboo the subject of their father was, but she was persuaded it was a matter on which honesty was needed.

“Jace, don’t tell me you didn’t think about it.” She crossed her arms, “We all did.”

“No. You obviously are the only one that it bothers.” He loudly answered, “You can’t deny it, Visenya. Ever since that day, you treat that subject as if it is all that matters just because that moron scared you.”

A loud distinct roar ripped the sky. Visenya didn’t even flinch as she felt her blood pumping into her veins.

“I treat that subject exactly as it needed to because of that day,” She looked deep into his eyes, “I was the moron who took his eyes off.”

Jace looked at his sister in disbelief and anger, “And you’re also the moron who doubts her own blood.”

“At least I’m not the moron who doesn’t see the obvious, we both know who our father is.”

Luke pushed Jace and Visenya as he ran off. It had been too much for the youngest. The rudeness of his brother and the insensibility of his sister was probably one of the things he hated the most in this situation. He ran down the deck to the other side of the boat, sitting where his eyes could only see the line of the horizon, where the sun nearly touched the sea. It is getting dark.

Jace and Visenya had stayed there dumbfounded for a few seconds. If there was a thing that could stop their arguments, it could only be Lucearys. The silence fell like a rock down a river, both of the oldest siblings didn’t look at each other. Visenya was the first to admit she was ashamed, even though she didn’t say it, she had reacted without thinking. Jace looked aside too, he knew how rude he could be when furious.

“I know, Brother,” She said first, “That you always think about us before everything else.”

“And I know,” He began after a few seconds, “That you think about this because we need to face this.”

Visenya’s gaze softened as did Jace’s.

“We cannot go through this without being united.” Jace added, “Either way it’s not our fault.”

“You’re right, we need to be ready to fight.”

When Luke heard footsteps behind him, he first didn’t even flinch. Both Visenya and Jace approached him with guilt written all over their faces, they had pushed their little brother to his limits.

“We’re sorry.” Visenya first declared but the boy didn’t move.

Jace sighed, “We shouldn’t have talked about this, not in a moment like this.”

“It’s always ‘we shouldn’t have’, never ‘let’s talk about this honestly’.” Luke ultimately said after a few seconds.

Visenya looked at Jace, who shook his head to the side.

“Mother never speaks to us about that, but she always seems so perfect, without any doubt.” Luke continued.

The siblings all shared that feeling. Their mother was far above them, shining brightly, without any flaws while they were mocked for their dark hair. Luke had always felt like he wasn’t enough, he had dark eyes and hair, and he could pray all he wanted, but he knew he would never attain her standing. He turned to face his siblings, and went his gaze met the dark purple of his sister’s eyes, he felt hope. When he saw his older brother’s resolve, he felt hope. For that those eyes hinted he was the blood of his ancestors, and that determination to the love of his family.

“We’re going into the enemy territory.” Jace then spoke, “Yes, they’re going to try and humiliate us. But we’ll stay together, so much so that it won’t ever get to us.”

“And we’ll fight.” Visenya continued, “We’ll fight without fear like dragons don’t fear blood.”

Before Jace could add anything, Luke got up and took the both of them in his arms…

Hi !

I was so excited to post this one ! But I cannot wait until I post the part back in King's Landing.

I still wonder about my English sometimes tho... Hope it's not bothering anyone.

Don't hesitate to like or leave a comment, that would help me so much!

See you all next week <3

#aemond x visenya #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #team black #team green #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #hotd oc #hotd #house of the dragon

5 notes · View notes

casspurrjoybell-30 · 1 year ago

Text

Cry Me A River - Chapter 11 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will tear me apart."

His Excellency

It's been almost a week now and I'm barely getting by without Alastair.

I've must have gone through half his closet by now from all of the times I've slept and wore his shirts just to remember his scent.

I miss him with more words than I can vocalize.

Keith said that he may return in a few days span if his heat doesn't strike again.

I'm running out of things to add to my list to do, as I'm not leaving our room as often as before.

I'm afraid if I leave for too long, I'll forget what his scent smells like and the crisp air outside the room will wipe whatever I have left of his scent from me.

Isaiah comes and visits me often as well as Michael but as much as I appreciate their kindness to help, they weren't helping.

They speak of all the things they've done and how much fun it would be if I had joined but I didn't want to.

Was that a strange concept to understand?

At the moment, Michael and Keith were sitting by me, on the cushioned chairs placed next to the bed.

I wasn't sure what they were speaking of, as I had begun to tune them out long ago.

I felt a poke on my shoulder and I turned.

"I got a letter from Alastair this morning saying he plans to return in two days time," Keith smiled.

"Are you sure?"

'We've had many false alarms.'

"Yes, he said he can't stand being so far from you for so long. He said he'd rather chain himself in the cellar if needed."

He laughed.

Chain himself?

I shuddered at the idea. If his heat would get so bad to the point of chaining himself, I'd rather mate with him then allow him to do so.

What would be the point in putting him in unnecessary pain?

As much as Alastair wanted our first time to be special, something I loved him tremendously for, as long as it was him I don't mind how it's done. I'd do anything if it meant making him happy and misery free.

Michael must have caught onto my horrified aura as he sent Keith 'the look'.

"What Keith is trying to say is that your mate is returning, so turn that frown upside down."

He smiled.

I pulled a small smile.

"Aww, look how cute you are when you smile."

Michael cooed as he pulled me into his lap, rocking me back and forth.

'Why do I feel like a baby? '

"Don't pout, cutie."

Michael laughed.

"I'm not pouting."

'I am.'

A knock resounded at the door.

We all pivoted our heads, staring until Keith decided to be unlazy of the bunch and actually answer it.

He opened the door, revealing a girl dressed in a maid's wear.

"His Excellency calls for your presence in his chambers for a meal," she spoke in a monotonous voice.

"All of us?" Keith asked quizzically.

'Was it strange to be summoned by him?'

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Very well."

He dismissed her before turned towards us with a confused look in his eyes.

"My father does not usually summon us. At least not when not all of us are present..." he trailed off.

"Does he know of Alastair's leaving?" I asked.

"Yes, he was the one who permitted it, after all. Without the king's permission, neither I nor my brother can leave the premises of the capital."

'So even the royalty don't have complete freedom.'

Michael ushered me out the room behind Keith as they made their way, assumingly, to the king's chambers.

Being nervous didn't even begin to explain how I was feeling.

I was practically peeing myself.

This was Alastair's father, someone I clearly needed to prove my worthiness to if he were to give me his acceptance as his son's mate.

'What if he doesn't end up liking me?'

'What if he finds me unworthy of his beautiful son's presence?'

'Oh Goddess, I hope he accepts me.'

We arrived in front of a large, wooden door.

Keith knocked as a deep, bellowing voice said...

"Come in."

He opened the door as I peeked from behind Michael.

I was more than a little intimated. There, upon a large purple, velvet cushion sat a tall, muscular man lounging with a golden wine glass in hand.

He looked up and his yellow-hazel eyes seemed to pierce me.

The color was similar to Alastair's, but as Alastair's eyes were soft and filled with love and compassion, his father's were sharp and on edge.

"Aah, you're the new addition, huh?" his voice was filled with malice.

Well, I guess there goes all my hopes and dreams of him accepting me.

Michael's eyes narrowed as he stood protectively in front of me.

"Is there a reason for our calling, Your Excellency?"

His voice sounded cut and forced as if speaking with thorns down his throat.

"Aah, that there was, that there was."

He moved his glass in small circles as he slowly stood from his lounging position,

"Please."

He motioned to a table beside him filled with food,

"Take a seat."

Michael held my hand as we made our way to the table and sat me beside him, as far away from the king as possible.

I smiled in thanks.

"So tell me," he motioned towards me with his hand in a waving motion.

"River," Michael snapped.

The king seemed not to notice his tone as he continued,

"River, from what class are you?"

"A low one, Your Excellency," I said quietly, looking down.

"Hmm, do you consider yourself worthy of my son?"

I looked up so fast I could have sworn I had gotten whiplash, his eyes blazed with anger.

I didn't know what to say as I just stared at him wide eyed.

'Did I?'

"You see, Alastair is to be the heir to my throne as Keith has long since denounced his right to it," he mumbled angrily staring at Michael.

'Why do I have a feeling that Keith denouncing his right to the throne had to do with Michael?'

Michael grounded his teeth as Keith ran small circles on his tightly held hands as his knuckles turned a chalky white.

The king sipped nonchalantly from his wine glass as Michael seemed to visibly shake in his seat.

"You know, River, my son had to be sent off to a heat camp," he said putting his wine glass down.

I nodded.

"Have you rejected my son?"

He spoke as if the idea was inconceivable.

I shook my head fiercely at the thought.

'How could he think I would reject his son? His beautiful, loving son. If anything he would reject me.'

"So then why have you not mated with him yet? Do you find him unattractive?"

My face turned bright red, as I shook my head like a broken rag doll.

"O-of course not," I whispered.

"Then why did you send him away?"

"I-I didn't. He t-told me..."

"Don't lie to me, child. I know exactly what happened. You played the cute and innocent virgin too afraid to be rushed into his first time. You convinced him to wait and wait he shall. After all, the cute virgins are my son's favorite type," he mumbled, taking another sip from his wine glass.

I felt all color wipe from my face.

Michael stood up from his seat with a screech.

"We're done here."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door before anyone could say anything.

Keith followed behind, silently, as Michael dragged me into his chambers.

He held me tight in his arms as I bawled my eyes out.

I wasn't sure what I was crying about but something the king had said had struck a nerve.

Thoughts of Alastair's past conquests filled my mind, from beautiful, exotic women to porcelain, blond males.

'All more beautiful than I.'

"Shhh, don't listen to what he said cutie," Michael cooed.

"You're the most precious person in Alastair's eyes and waiting for the right time was something he wanted more than anything, it was his idea."

I knew all that.

I knew it was his choice, though I wished he could have stayed.

However, what really struck a nerve was his comment on me being

'Just his type' as if, in comparison, I was just like his past conquests.

Just one amongst many.

Nothing special.

I want Alastair.

I want him back.

I want it to be him holding me to his firm, warm body as he comforts me with words of love.

I felt a darkness engulf me as a wave of exhaustion pulled me under into its dark abyss.

1 note · View note

tucsonwindowanddoor · 2 years ago

Text

Benefits of Installing Fire-rated Doors

A fire-rated door is a shelter for homes and office spaces. Be it a godown with a lot of stock and stock or a home with young children, a flame-resistant door can give extreme well-being to your own and proficient resources.

Fire-resisting doors accompany a variety of highlights and specs. Out of these fire appraised aluminum entryways are the ones generally utilized. Any financial specialist or property holder requires to recognize and edify themselves about the upsides of fire-rated doors.

Our homes and workplaces are implanted and coordinated with profoundly specialized contraptions and unpredictable substances. Thus, a fire could probably begin remotely close to us.

Go through a portion of the basic benefits of introducing fire-rated doors to stay away from such a destiny.

1. Insurance of resources

While certain flames can emerge from disregard and indiscretion, others could emerge from regular causes, like lightning. They can happen both inside and beyond your structures and designs.

A fire-resistant door guarantees the security of your resources and effects. Besides, fire-proof doors can save you from causing a great many rupees in misfortunes. What's more, it can keep outside flames from entering your space, accordingly defending your own proficient resources.

Flame-resistant doors are a definitive response to your security needs, safeguarding human lives or resources. They are strong and can obstruct even the most out of control of flames.

2. Holding the fire back from spreading further

A room loaded with unstable substances is a danger to itself and its kin. A flame-resistant door will guarantee the well-being of the environmental elements. It will hold the fire back from spreading to the neighboring rooms and spaces.

One can say that a fire-rated door will make a strong segment between the protected and risky conditions. So then, regardless of whether the fire spreads fiercely, you should rest assured that you have sufficient opportunity to hurry to somewhere safe and secure.

Subsequently, to limit the harm made by the risk, one should introduce a flame-resistant entryway at each urgent mark of the construction.

3. Obstructing unsavory gasses

A fire-rated door is a vital resource for any structure with unstable substances. In any case, the fire isn't simply a one-sided danger. It additionally causes a few incidental losses. Life dangers from the hurtful exhaust are one of them.

There are high possibilities that individuals could stifle unsafe exhaust. Thusly, a flame-resistant door can be helpful in such cases. Likewise, these entryways can impede noxious and upsetting gasses that could emerge from little or tremendous fire breakouts.

It can at last save a few lives from troublesome demise and hazardous circumstances. Moreover, it can likewise keep the gasses from spreading further until help shows up.

4. Heat safe

Fireproof aluminum doors accompany a novel intensity-safe component. Regardless of whether the tenants are not undermined by fire and different dangers, they can in any case be protected from the singing intensity. Indeed, even if there should be an occurrence of a fire, the entryways are heat safe. They guarantee that the intensity doesn't arrive at the inhabitants.

Heat-safe element makes the fire-resistin doors extra alluring for individual and expert reasons. Besides, since they fulfill a double reason, they are viewed as practical and important.

Flame-resistant doors should be intended to oppose intensity to guarantee the most extreme adequacy and proficiency.

Aside from these four benefits, we likewise have a reward advantage for you.

5. Fast clearing

A flame-resistant entryway can get you time if there should be an occurrence of a fire breakout. In the event of a fire breaking out, the prompt activity is to move individuals to somewhere safe and secure. A heat-proof entryway can offer you the choice and chance to do likewise. Its capacity to endure fire gives sufficient time for every individual to be emptied to somewhere safe no matter what. In this manner, it is the most trustworthy partner in the event of a fire.

Guarantee that you introduce the entryways in places with the most extreme openness to unstable mishaps. For instance, close to the creation region, kitchen, stock, and flights of stairs. A fire-rated door with a window adds additional insurance to the occupants from the breakout. What's more, they likewise permit different break focuses to the occupants. They additionally permit salvage missions to get to various places if there should be an occurrence of breakouts and perils. Moreover, the heroes can get a perspective inside the impacted region from the window of the fire entryway, hence making their occupation simpler. This will additionally help in saving lives in a superior way.

Buy and install quality fire-rated doors from "Tucson Window and Door" a reputed Doors Seller in Tucson, AZ. Visit us and protect your homes now with fire-rated doors in Tucson, AZ.

#door and window installation tucson #window replacement tucson #tucson window replacement #casement bay window tucson #replace double pane window tucson #door replacement tucson #tucson replacement windows #french doors tucson #exterior windows and door tucson

0 notes

ladymunson · 2 years ago

Text

Long Way Home

Fic Summary: After Eddie’s battle with the demobats, his injuries are severe and the gang needs help. As Dustin’s ex-babysitter, and a studying nurse they bring him to you. Can you save him? And can Eddie find his way back home?

A/N: This idea came to me one night as I was falling asleep, I thought it was a good one. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Word Count: 1818

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of pain and medication, death of readers parents (pre-story).

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform. Support content creators by reblogging

“Eddie…. Come on man stay with me!” Dustin screams as Steve, Robin and Nancy approach. “Guys help me! We gotta get Eddie out of here!”

“We can’t take him to a hospital Henderson, he’s a wanted man!” Robin sighs.

“I know where to take him, just help me!!”

A loud pounding on your door awakes you from your dreamless sleep, turning over to your alarm clock you see it’s almost 2am. You groan before rolling out of bed, whoever is there better have a damn good reason to be knocking at this ungodly hour, you think to yourself as you approach the door.

You pull the door open and are greeted by Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, who are all carrying the lifeless form of Eddie Munson. “Oh my gosh! Come in! What happened?!” You say as you move aside to let them in. “My bedroom Dustin.” You say as you look around outside to make sure no one had followed them to your place.

You close the door and turn just in time to see them disappear into your bedroom, you join them just as they’re placing Eddie on your bed. “Okay I need to know what happened but first I need you each to get something for me so I can assess the damage in private.” They all nod in agreement. “Henderson, my linen closet, get as many towels as you can. Harrington, hot water, there’s a kettle on the stove. Wheeler, vodka, I keep a bottle in my icebox. Buckley, bathroom cabinet, get me everything except the girl stuff. There’s also a first aid box under the sink… Go!” They all scramble to leave the room, running in different directions. Now you can take a look at Eddie.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing, the wounds covering the left side of his lower torso, right side of his upper torso and left side of his neck look like bites. But they’re bites you’ve never seen before, they almost don’t look real. But they are.

You sit on the edge of the bed and tentatively reach out to touch the wound on his lower left torso, as your fingertips touch him you feel him tense even though he’s unconscious. The pain must be tremendous, but knowing he can still feel it fills you with hope. Being numb to the pain would not be a good sign. Dustin returns first, his arms full of every single towel you own.

“I got them all, what can I do now?” Dustin asks, his eyes full of worry and unshed tears.

“There’s nothing else you can do Dusty but let me work, there’s juice boxes and water in the refrigerator. Help yourself and take a seat in the living room, it’s going to be a long night.” You reply as the others return with their various items. Dustin hangs his head and leaves the room. “Keep an eye on him please.” You say to Steve, who nods and shows the girls out of the room. The door closes and you turn your attention back to Eddie. “I’m so sorry but this isn’t going to be pleasant Munson.”

Eddie looks around, he’s not sure where he is but he knows he’s in pain. The world around him is dark, the sky almost black and there’s dust floating all over the place. A flash lights up the sky and lights the area up, he’s still in the upside down, thunder rumbles making the ground shake. He calls out.

“Henderson?” There’s no response. “Harrington?” He’s met with only silence. He tries moving but there’s pain all over, he inhales sharply as the pain shoots through him. In the distance he hears a voice, a familiar one. Y/N? Isn’t she supposed to be in New York?

He listens intently, it’s definitely her, and she’s saying his name. He smiles gently as he remembers the past and their interactions. The smile and memories fade fast as a stinging pain shoots through pain his left side. He hears her say, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” and the pain subsides. Then hits again on his right side. “Ahhhh shit!” he says through gritted teeth, and the sting subsides. Then it hits again in his neck, tears form in his eyes as he groans through the pain. It hurts way more than he ever thought was possible, worse than the bad tattoo he got when he was fifteen. The one he got done by that guy who used to live the other end of Forest Hills trailer park, the one that got infected and he had a two day hospital stay, the one he got for her.

You wince as Eddie tenses in pain as you clean the wound on his neck, using the vodka Nancy got as you were out of hydrogen peroxide from your first aid bag after the first two wounds. You’d used the peroxide to clean the wound of any bacteria before placing a towel covered in more peroxide and hot water over the wounds.

Steve pokes his head into the room, “Everything okay?”

“He’s responding to pain which is a good sign but I won’t know how bad it is until he wakes up.” You say as you use another towel to wipe off your hands. “I need to bandage these wounds but I can’t roll him and apply the bandage, can you help me?” Steve nods and helps roll Eddie onto his side so you can apply the bandage, and then the other way to wrap the other side.

You finish bandaging Eddie up and then grab your medical bag and get out something that will help with pain relief, injecting it into Eddie’s arm then leaving the room.

“How is he?” Dustin asks jumping up out of the chair he’d been sitting in.

“He needs to rest, I’ll know more in the morning.” You say.

A warm feeling spreads through Eddie’s body, removing all the pain he feels. He sighs in relief as he stands up, grabbing his spear and trash can shield and begins to move. Heading back in the direction of his trailer, looking around at all the bodies of the fallen demobats. “Jesus H Christ!” He mumbles as he continues on, only able to move slowly, not wanting to overdo it too quickly and tire himself out.

Another flash lightning and crash of thunder rumble through the deserted apocalypse style Hawkins Eddie is walking through, making him jump. He closes his eyes and when he opens them again he can see her, standing in the distance. The love he let go all those years ago, he has to make it out for her.

“You helped Eddie even though he’s suspected for murder, why would you do that?” Robin asks, Steve shoots daggers at her and Nancy nudges Robin with her elbow. “What? You’re telling me you aren’t thinking the same thing?”

“I know Eddie, I know who he is and I know he would never do anything like that. We went to middle and high school together.” You say, Robin makes an O with her lips before you continue. “I always liked him, and he never treated me any different even though I was kind of a prodigy. I moved away just before I graduated, two years earlier than my peers.”

“Why did you move away?” Robin asks, as she takes a seat on your couch.

You take a deep breath. “My parents were killed in a fire, so I moved to New York to live with my aunt and uncle.” You say.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!” Robin says and stands up, crossing the room and wrapping her arms around you. You return her embrace and then take a seat next to Dustin.

“I didn’t know you even knew Eddie y/n, I’ve spoken about him when I called you in New York but you never said anything.” Dustin says, raising one eyebrow at you.

“Hearing you talk about him was difficult enough Dusty and I couldn’t bring myself to ask about him either.” You say.

“Wait, were you guys a couple before you moved?” Nancy asks, looking dumbfounded. You and Eddie, even back then didn’t make much sense.

“No, not a couple. I would’ve maybe liked to be but I doubt he saw me that way. I mean I was a year younger than him and a smarty-pants, we would’ve made the town sweat wondering how he would corrupt me or how I could teach him stuff…”

“Ahem… so it was just a one-sided crush?” Steve says.

“I think so. I didn’t have many friends but Eddie always went out of his way to make me feel happy or even just noticed.” They all look at you, not believing it was one sided at all. “I’ll be right back.” You say and head into your bedroom to grab the photo album off the shelf.

Dustin looks to check that you’re out of earshot before he speaks. “I’m always asking Eddie why he doesn’t have a girlfriend and his answer was always, ‘She’ll leave like Peanut’. I think y/n is the Peanut he’s talking about.”

They all nod in agreement as you re-enter the room, but don’t speak. “I feel like I just walked in to something I shouldn’t have.” You say, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Nope it’s all good.” Dustin says with a grin. “What do you have there?”

“I was gonna tell about you the last encounter Eddie and I had.” They all gather around to listen. “It December 21st 1982, the day winter break started. My dad was picking me up from school and I was walking to his car when I heard Eddie call out to me. I turned around and he had a huge grin on his face, he wished me a Merry Christmas and handed me a large package, wrapped in newspaper. He said he didn’t have any Christmas wrap and he hoped I liked it and kissed my cheek before hopping on his bike and riding away.” They all look at each other and smile. “I opened it as soon as I got home, it was a framed picture he had drawn. An Elven warrior that looked like me, it was the best gift I’d ever gotten. The fire happened three days after Christmas…”

End of part one.

Tags: @yourebuckingkiddingme @zekegorilla @eddiesprincess86 @bluegalaxyprime @viviennewestwoodismymom @devilcherryhot @chloe-6123 @eddies-girl-22 @icallhimjoey

If you would like to be added to my taglist you can find the application here

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things s4 #ladymunson #longwayhomeseries #eddie munson

130 notes · View notes

randofics · 2 years ago

Text

Something in the woods

Transformers Bayverse Horror fic

Haven't been very motivated as far as my other fics go so in light of my transformers roadkill headcannon. I decided to write this short horror fic.

It was a dark stormy night when it happened. They were traveling in a caravan to get to their next mission point. Optimus driving in the very front had his floodlights on. Rocks and dirt tumbled down the hill on their right side making him slow to a stop, everyone else followed suit. More rocks crashed onto the asphalt as something clambered down the steep slope. Finally it hopped down to the asphalt letting Optimus get a good look at it. When the creature turned its head he swore a shiver of fear ran up his backstrut. The face was half rotted away it's jagged teeth gleaming with fresh blood as it carried the mangled corpse of a buck. The creature was extremely large reaching almost to his hood at its shoulder. It's empty stare bore through him and suddenly its one crooked eye straightened to look right at him. Dropping the corpse to the asphalt it's head spun around with a sickening crunch and it let out a gut renching sound that he would hear in his nightmares. The creature lunged at him....

He woke with a start spark racing in his chassis. He was in his alt parked safely at base. That screeching sound and that sickening crunch echoed in his helm as he transformed. He had no clue what that creature had been. He'd never had stasis visions like that before. It was always replayed memories of past experiences, never conjured up memories.

Lennox was on the balcony looking over files on his tablet when he saw Optimus transform. The look on his faceplate had him a bit worried. "You ok Optimus?" He didn't answer seemingly looking straight forward in a trance. "Optimus! Optimus you ok?" Finally he snapped out of it. "I do not know Col. Lennox." The fear and nervousness in the autobot Generals normally calm and stoic voice had him worried. "Well why don't you explain it and I can try to help." Optimus nodded and walked over to the balcony. "I always get what you would call dreams when I recharge but they're always replayed memories, never conjured up like your's seem to be." "So did something change?" "Yes tremendously so." "Can you remember what happened in the dream?" "It was so real that I cannot forget it!" "Ok walk me through it." "It was a dark rainy night and the others and I were traveling down a heavily wooded road in a caravan. I was in front as I usually am when rocks tumbled down from the slope above the road. I stopped the caravan as more rocks hit the asphalt.

A creature carrying a deer carcass stopped in the road just a few yards away from me." "What did it look like?" "It-it was horrific! It was missing flesh in places and half its face was gone with just blood stained bone showing. Blood matted in it's fur and its flesh clung to its wrongly proportioned skeleton." Lennox had a frightened look on his face. "What did it do next?" " It looked right at me with its one dead eye then dropped the deer and it's head turned upside down with a sickening crunch." "Anything else?" "It let out a terrible noise like nothing I've ever heard before then it lunged at me. That's when I awoke." Lennox quickly typed something into his tablet then looked for something, scrolling. "Di-did it by any chance look like this?" A similar creature was on the screen and with wide optics he nodded his helm. "Tha-thats not good." "What is this creature Col. Lennox?" "Could be some type of demon or the other thing that I shall not speak of!" "What do you mean?" "Well our religions believe in malevolent spirits bound to this earth or otherwise. The Native Americans believe in the creature who's name must never be spoken. It's another malevolent spirit that can shapeshift, and one of its many forms looks like that. So for someone to not know anything about it or it's features and have a nightmare about one.... that's not good at all!" "So I believe you would call it a haunting?" "Yes or an attachment." "How can I get rid of it?" "I'll have a priest and a shamen ordered over for a cleansing. But you'll have to stay in your alt mode." With a sigh of relief he could relax a bit. "Perhaps we should give everyone a cleansing just to be safe." "Yeah maybe I'll get one too."

#fanfic #transformers fanfiction #bayverse optimus prime #tf bayverse #horror #horror fiction

36 notes · View notes

ace-avian · 2 years ago

Text

It’s time.

To rate the versions of Garroth. Please note these are my opinions, you do not have to agree. I will be going from least favourite to most favourite. All the seasons are going to be counted as separate Garroths. No I am not counting mini series’ but upside down stories gets a participation trophy.

Here we go.

At the bottom of the list: Mermaid Tales Garroth. I love pirates so much I have a bias but this man- THIS MAN- you can bet he wouldn’t pay child support and would probably call me a slur

Next- PDH S1 Garroth. I don’t have to give my reasoning- mans kissed a girl without her consent. That’s reason enough. In the words of Chris from TDI- not cool dude.

Next- FCU Garroth. Hoo. This man infuriates me to no end. Garroth, buddy, if a girl you know and are very close to is CLEARLY not doing well and you NOTICE THAT, if she asks you what you like about her when you ask her out, do not say something physically. Dumbass.

Fourth from the bottom; PDH S2. He’s got a bit of development, he apologised for kissing Aphmau with consent. Though it was after SHE mentioned it so points deducted for not knowing it was a shit thing to do and apologising beforehand.

Next- Mystreet S1 Garroth. This man somehow did not learn- moving to a town/street where the girl who has stated she doesn’t like you like that is moving- that is CREEPY. Stop it. Stop that. And do I have to mention the play? I don’t think I do.

After them- MCD S3. As shitty as that season is, I love MCD so much, but I just- I cannot excuse the casual racism. Garroth you don’t trust Lio cos he’s from Tu’la? Okay you went evil for a bit but we’re not gonna talk about that? Sure he apologised (the Lio thing him betraying was never addressed again) but it still happened.

Next on the ladder is both Mystreet S2 and S3. They go together cos…they’re just there. I just kinda feel indifferent, they’re just kinda vibing. I’d say S3 is a bit higher than S2 but that’s cos S3 is like the only season I really like.

Next- MCD S2. Again- he’s kinda there. He’s lower than S1 cos he does kiss Aph without consent AGAIN- but he does get points for apologising for his anger during the going to rescue Zianna arc (though that anger was PERFECTLY justified the pregnant storyline was ridiculous with a capital what the fuck). Nice himbo man.

Next! Mystreet S5. Again. Just. Kinda. There. I love werewolf Garroth to be entirely honest though the Garroth and KC kiss scene throws me for a loop and gets him points redacted- I can’t remember how or why that happened. Prolly Jessica being a terrible writer.

We’re getting to the top; next is MCD S1. Brilliant himbo lad, even more in the rewrite. I adore him and his little awkwardness, though again- went evil cos- friend kissed the girl he liked- okay then- though not many points deducted cos I imagine Lillian did a fair bit with that.

Next is Mystreet S4 Garroth. I like him, his panic over Zane, and their brother dynamic ACTUALLY HAVING DEVELOPMENT- my beloveds. I have a vivid memory of crying when they hugged. Emerald Secret Garroth gets in the top three. Good job buddy. Gold star.

Second place! Mystreet S6. I have a supernatural creature bias as well including to werewolves (though unlike Jessica admitting it’s a werewolf fetish I just think they’re cool especially when the lore is fleshed out or changed), it enhances his himbo and AGAIN- ZANE AND HIS RELATIONSHIP IS WHAT SAVES HIM. The development of the forever potions helps tremendously. The moment of zane trying to reach out to his brother? Ow. O w.

And first place!! A Royal Tale Garroth! This man is peak I will not accept criticism. Him and Jenny are kinda cute in this scene I’m not gonna lie. Also trauma over killing his dad, gives him some spice a lot of Garroths lack (but that’s the writing :) ). Good job my boy. Gold star.

And as said, honourable mention to swap/upside down stories Garroth. Or as my friend says, Girlboss Garroth. He gets participation trophy and a head pat.

Hope y’all enjoyed. I’ll have to do this again.

#aphblr #aphmau #minecraft diaries #aphmau minecraft diaries #aphmau mystreet #mystreet #aphmau garroth #mcd garroth #mystreet garroth #god this was so long #next time I’ll have to do Aaron or Aphmau #maybe laurence #but that could get me burnt on a stake

51 notes · View notes

hesthermay · 4 years ago

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐃!𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐇𝐂’𝐒

ʚϊɞ headcannons, word count? i don’t fucking know

ʚϊɞ afab!reader, dad!gojo, fluff, pregnancy mention, i am not sober 😵‍💫

— knows you’re pregnant. makes silly little jokes about being a dad/family/parents for days leading up to you taking the test

— when you tell him, he just smiles and asks if you’re sure. it’s a more serious moment for him, but it’s appropriate

— “i took a test this morning, but my first appointment isn’t for a couple days. are you…happy?”

— “of course i’m happy,” he pulls you into a hug, arms tight around you, “we’re going to be a family. if it was going to be anyone, i’m glad it was you.”

— is helpful and also very annoying during the pregnancy. knows your patience has grown thin yet still makes a point of testing it every single day

— will also go to the 24 hour store at the earliest hours just to satisfy a craving

— starts bringing you to the school more often. you sit in the background while he demonstrates to the first years how to execute a move, and you sit at his desk while he walks around the room explaining who knows what

— megumi always asks if you’re okay, is always there when he has the chance to be. the boy loves you, adores you; he says you’re the only reason he survived living with gojo as a child

— yuuji is the sweetest boy, always rushes forward to hold the door for you or asks if you’re hungry; he’ll go get you something no problem

— nobara looks in the maternity section specifically every time she goes shopping now and always tells you about the newest deals and the coolest styles

— once the baby is here, he’s never gone unless he absolutely has to be. he’s always by your side, always doing his best to do what he needs to

— gojo promises you one night, at 3am with tired eyes and a serious look, that you’d changed him and this baby was changing him as well. your child is cradled in his arms, their little cheek squished up against his chest and you believe him. he’s going to be better—no, the best. gojo satoru is going to be the best father there ever was

— the two of you are always on his mind. if he’s out, he calls and sees if you need anything; if he’s at home, he’ll go anywhere at the drop of a hat so long as you smile at him on the way out

— 100% wears those wrap things that you carry the baby with

— any chance he gets that hoe is strapped to his chest, carrying on his daily activities with him

— gojo says the cool thing about having a kid is you get built in best friend

— absolutely goes feral the first time nanami holds his baby. tears in his eyes, a squealing mess, nanami slaps him upside the head with one hand to shut him up

— but somewhere in there he’d managed to snap a pic of your longtime friend with the gentlest smile you think you’ve ever seen him sport. your heart swells tremendously

— overall, gojo satoru was a man with many flaws and many talents. he met you and became a man all about love. he met his child, and became a man all about family

— his family is his world and there’s nothing anyone can do to take that from him

ʚϊɞ reblogs are always appreciated luvs ! ʚϊɞ

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.

571 notes · View notes

noona96n · 3 years ago

Text

Beyond Evil characters as the major arcana

Han Juwon | 0 - The Fool

He’s literally a dumbass, like boi accused my man Dongsik of multiple murders T^T

But on a more serious note, in upright position, The Fool can mean beginning, innocence, free-spiritedness, idealism, adventure. All the good and beautiful things in life that are experienced by a ‘newborn’ / a fledging is symbolized by The Fool. And is Juwon not all of that?? Did Beyond Evil not started by Juwon starting a sting operation? Is it not his adventure? Is he not living by an idealistic set of morals and principles that he tries his very best to uphold even in the worst of times? He basically begged to be arrested for his sting operation and forcing a victim and mtfckn setup the scene for the arrest of his own father. He is the embodiment of The Fool.

In reverse, The Fool represents recklessness, inconsideration, dumbassery. It can also mean to be taken advantage of, to be naive and gullible and foolish. And, uh, Juwon. Just- recklessly starting the sting operation, accusing Dongsik and barging into his basement and pointing a gun to his head and jabbing his chest, naively thinking that the world is black and white only to have the rug pulled from under him.

The major arcana is considered as The Fool’s journey in life… so The Fool can either be placed at the beginning (= starting a journey) or the end after The World (21) (= an adventure just came to an end, time to go on another one). I actually wanted to do a Beyond Evil-Major Arcana thing bcs i feel like the drama is a study in Juwon’s character development (or hero’s journey tbh… the phases Juwon went thru throughout the drama isn’t dissimilar from the hero’s journey way of storytelling). And that the character(s) I think fits The World is the ending of Juwon’s foolishness and naivety, the one who completes his story and ends the Beyond Evil story.

Lee Dongsik | 1 - The Magician

Dongsik walks a fine line between policeman and criminal w/ the way he moved Minjungie’s fingers and took her and Lee Geumhwa’s phones… with the way he tried to incarcerate himself, with the way he’s more than willing to break the law to achieve justice. And that’s what The Magician is… an inbetween of magic and mortal, of heaven and earth.

He’s willful, smart and resourceful, and so, so good at his job. But he’s also full of trickery and deception, more than willing to manipulate the police, the evidence, the circumstances for his own gain. Juwon fell into his trap many times.

Also, in The Fool’s journey, The Magician is the first being that The Fools encounter… whatever tool The Fool chooses from The Magician’s table (pentacle, sword, coin, wand) will help him through his time and maybe even indicates what kind of adventure he’s going on… So, if The Fool is the adventure, then The Magician is the one leading us down the road.

Even though I place him as The Magician, I think Dongsik can be represented by A LOT of other tarots… as himself or in relation to Juwon. I think he could also be:

2 The High Priestess = Dongsik is smart and intuitive and he knows everything, he holds the answer to everything Juwon wants to know. But he’s sneaky and secretive and confusing… he held all the cards but messed w/ Juwon constantly, he hid who he really is, hid his intention. His actions didn’t always align w/ his true intention and he continuously sowed doubts into everyone’s minds.

7 The Chariot = the way Dongsik has continues to live on in spite of all the tremendous loses and unfairness pitted against him… the way he’s determined to catch Kang Jinmook in the act even if it means breaking the law, the way he’s so focused on bringing justice to Yuyeon and putting her to rest. But also, the way he just… got lost and gave up on life after what happened to Sangyeob. And also, Dongsik was the one turning Juwon’s life upside down… he was the person who made Juwon lose control and question everything.

8 The Strength = i think Dongsik is the reason why Juwon becomes compassionate and confident in his ethics and profession. By wanting to save Dongsik from further hurt, Juwon also mustered the courage and bravery to stand up to his father and take him down. I’m not saying Juwon’s moral won’t hold up on his own, I’m saying Dongsik gave him that inner strength to arrest his father because he had wronged Dongsik so terribly. He gave him conviction. Dongsik was also the person who shook Juwon’s foundation and made Juwon doubt everything.

12 The Hanged Man = Dongsik’s literally the definition of The Hanged Man with his enormous capacity of love and compassion and kindness and the alarming lack of self-preservation.

20 Judgment = Dongsik was literally the reason why Juwon went to Manyang… so yeah, quite obvious there. But in a more emotional context, I like to think that Dongsik was the reckoning in Juwon’s life… the rebirth, the only forgiveness that mattered, the promise of a new beginning. But I also think that he might’ve instilled some degree of self-loathing into Juwon as well, esp if Juwon had the time to sit down and reflect on his past actions toward Dongsik.

21 The World = there’s always an emptiness within him bcs of what happened to his family and how his twin was never given closure, how he wasn’t given closure. But, at the end of it all, he managed to give himself closure… to his sister and family and all of Kang Jinmook’s victims as well. He closed the cycle. He can move on with life now, he can be at peace now. He’s also the culmination of Juwon’s hero’s journey and the closure to a dark and tumultuous period of Juwon’s life. The one who soothed Juwon’s doubt and instilled a sense of clarity into him and sent him on another adventure: repent by helping the lost ones and their families. He is The World just as much as Yuyeon is.

Dongsik is The World to Juwon.

Dongsik is the only person I couldn’t place in one single tarot. (Can u tell how much of a simp I am for him? I love him and his poetic suffering so much.)

JWDS

6 The Lovers = this card is about unity and harmony, about balances and choices. But, in reverse, it means bad decisions, disharmony, chaos. Well, I don’t really need to explain, do I?

10 The Wheel of Fortune = Dongsik is literally the turning point in Juwon’s life… and vice versa. Resisting each other is impossible.

13 Death = the end of a cycle, transition, metamorphosis… Dongsik is able to move into a new, more beautiful chapter of his life because of Juwon and Juwon extracting himself from under Han Gihwan’s heels and becoming someone who’s softer and kinder and more considerate because of Dongsik. Juwon also went through an internal transformation because of Dongsik.

Do Haewon | 3 - The Empress

She’s a mother who’s suffocating her child… she loves Jeongje so much she’s willing to ruin his life if it means she can keep him ‘safe’... she’s just so- idk

I think she sees Jeongje as an extension of herself but not in the way Han Gihwan sees Juwon as a self-extension to gain glory for himself, I think Do Haewon sees Jeongje as a literal part of herself. Not sth to use but sth to love and protect like oneself.

Kang Jinmook | 4 - The Emperor

This is the card of fatherhood but also the card of tyranny. Kang Jinmook was a literal serial killer… he was obsessed w/ Hyemi, obsessed w/ killing her. And he’s so controlling of Minjung too.

Kwon Hyuk | 5 - The Hierophant

He’s Juwon’s tutor. No, seriously, he’s Juwon’s tutor, educator, the one who gave Juwon the info he needed and that’s what The Hierophant is. Also, he’s the middleman who’s been keeping the peace in the Han household for ages. He is The Hierophant.

Also also, my man conformed, conformed, conformed… until he didn’t anymore… until he thought for himself and rebelled which yas. And it’s literally so funny that in career context, a reversed Hierophant means peer pressure and bureaucratic suffocation and Hyuk was literally choking on the pressure Han Gihwan put on him.

Oh Jihwa and Nam Sangbae | 11 - Justice

It’s a no-brainer for Jihwa tbh… she’s a straight-laced police officer who's all about fairness and accountability and consequences and integrity and JUSTICE. She has never wavered in her fight for justice. She’s so admirable and I am in awe of her.

The chief… Well, he made mistakes in the past but they were honest mistakes… he owned up to it and apologized and tried to amend things by taking care of Dongsik in his own ways. He caused an injustice and he continued to pay retributions… he tried to right his wrongs until his moment of death.

Han Gihwan | 15 - The Devil

Mtfck is so obsessed w/ power and so goddamn controling

The fact that he has zero compassion for anyone, not even his own son… he only gives a fck about himself

Park Jeongje and Lee Changjin | 16 - The Tower

My least favorite card in the major arcana… sorry? I just think it’s the most evil card ever… it has the most unsettling illustration in every deck… a tower splitting and catching fire while thunder and lightning kick up a fuss everywhere. It’s just so… chaotic and so insecure and disastrous and traumatic. In reverse, it literally means averting a disaster but only in the sense of delaying the inevitable.

I fckn hate this card and I’m sorry to Jeongje but he is The Tower thru and thru.

Lee Changjin is The Tower bcs he's the mtfck who's a part of the whole clusterfck… helped cover up for Han Gihwan only to have him thrown jail later. And he just gives me anxiety in general, so…

Yoo Jaeyi | 17 - The Star

She is The Star to Minjungie's moon and Jihoonie's Sun… the youthful inspiration for Minjungie and Jihoonie.

She's the twinkling hope in the sky that kept on believing in her mom and searching for her… even thru hopelessness and despondent, she still managed to kept her spirit up and let go of despair.

Even when she thought Kang Jinmook was going to kill her she still kept a somewhat positive outlook and believed that Dongsik would avenge her.

She's had loses but she also endured. She had suffered so beautifully. She's The Star to me.

Kang Minjung | 18 - The Moon

I’m not saying that Minjungie’s life is a lie but I associate her life with lies… but mb that’s bcs I think of her in conjunction w/ Kang Jinmook… i mean, she wasn’t his child and we were literally introduced to Minjungie thru lies… she went out partying instead of studying like she was supposed to.

Anyway, it's Minjungie who lifted the veil of deception off of Kang Jinmook… like, she’s the revealer of truth… anddd she was the first to fully embrace the fact that she wasn’t Kang Jinmook’s child… she was no longer going to live in this farce

Also, her fear… her being buried alive... the way her breathing can be heard when Dongsik wrecked that yard looking for her

also, i think like she's really full of love and emotions, mischievous, child-like emotions, and i associate those w/ The Moon

Oh Jihoon | 19 - The Sun

His smile, his softness, his kindness, his compassion. He's not the glaring summer Sun but the soft one in spring that glows rather than burns.

He’s just so full of joy and spirit, ya know? Such a sweet character, so easy to love.

But also, he can scourge the earth and burn everything in his path with his recklessness and anger as well.

Lee Yuyeon | 21 - The World

Yuyeon has always been The World to me… to Dongsik… and to Juwon too, in a sense.

She was the reason why Dongsik has been living half a life but she was also the reason why Dongsik was able to move on. The truth of her death also closed a chapter of Juwon and Jeongje’s life.

She holds all the cards. She's the full circle. She’s the beginning and the end.

PS. im an amateur tarot enthusiast, i went w/ vibes and my own interpretations more than anything else

wholehearted thanks to frog-san for encouraging this nonsense ✩

#beyond evil #jtbc beyond evil #jwds #han juwon #lee dongsik #han joo won #han joowon #oh jihoon #oh jihwa #yoo jae yi #shin ha kyun #shin hakyun #kim shin rok #yeo jin goo #yeo jingoo #choi seung eun #noona96n

97 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years ago

Text

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

With Dustin in the lead, we found ourselves stopped atop a hill, at what I assume is a scrapyard. Old vehicles like abandoned cars and buses scattered around the area.

Dustin came to a stop and looked around.

"Oh, no." He muttered.

"'Oh, no'? What's, 'Oh, no'?" Lucas asked in a panicked tone.

Dustin turned around to look at us.

"We're headed back home."

"What?" Even Mike seemed to be frustrated.

"Dustin, are you sure?" I ask, irritation and exhaustion creeping up on me.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Setting sun, right there." He pointed past us in the direction of the sky. "We looped right back around."

I sighed, shifting on my feet as I run a hand down my face.

"And you're just realizing this now?" Lucas snapped.

"Why is this all on me?"

"Because you're the compass genius!"

"What do yours say?"

We all checked our compasses, mine was wobbly but nevertheless, pointing North.

Lucas, Mike and I all spoke at once.

"North."

We all sighed, and Dustin began slowly pacing, looking off into the distance deep in thought.

"Makes no damn sense."

"Maybe the gate moved," Mike offered.

"No, I don't think it's the gate." Dustin began looking all around us. "I think it's something else screwing with the compasses."

"Maybe it's something here?"

As Mike spoke, I didn't fail to notice the look that crossed Lucas's face as he slowly turned to face El.

"No, it has to be like a super magnet." Dustin replied.

Lucas rose his hand and began pointing at El accusingly. "It's not a magnet. She's been acting weirder than normal. If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass."

El stood rooted in place, a look of guilt and fear in her eyes.

"Why would she do that?" Mike snapped.

"Because she's trying to sabotage our mission. Because she's a traitor!"

As much as I hated to admit it to myself, it was the only logical explanation we had. It could be all too easy for her to screw with our compasses after what she showed herself capable of.

I shook my head, ridding myself of the conclusions my brain wanted to jump to.

"Lucas, come on. Think about what you're saying. Why would-" I rested a gentle hand on Lucas's shoulder to try and calm him down, only for him to rip his arm from my touch.

"Enough, Y/n! I'm so sick of you defending her! You of all people should be more worried for Will."

"I am!" I snapped, feeling the anger, fear and confusion of all I've been carrying the past few days shoot up to the surface unexpectedly.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "Just... Please. Hear her out."

Lucas never met my eye and only stomped towards the poor girl intimidatingly.

"Lucas, what are you doing?" Mike asked, following behind Lucas worriedly.

"You did it, didn't you? You don't want us to reach the gate. You don't want us to find Will." Lucas was in her face by now, and it as if the poor girl was on the verge of tears.

Dustin and I were toe in toe with the others and I walked up to Lucas, ready in case he decided to something rash.

Mike seemed to have the same idea.

"Lucas, come on, seriously, just leave her alone!"

"Admit it." Lucas spit.

"No." El muttered.

"Admit it!" We all jumped when Lucas began screaming.

He grabbed her right arm and examined her sleeve. There was a streak of shiny dark crimson on her sleeve.

Lucas swatted away her arm in disgust and frustration at the sight.

"Fresh blood. I knew it."

Dustin and I watched speechless as the boys began fighting.

"Lucas, come on!"

"I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks! She was using her powers!"

"Bull! That's old blood. Right, El?"

We all whipped our heads to El, waiting for her response.

At this point, she was fighting back tears, and her breath hitched.

"Right, El?" Mike asked again, less confident.

She began sobbing as she choked out her words.

"It's... not... it's not safe."

My stomach plunged as Dustin and I shared a look of worry and shock.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What did I tell you? She's been playing us from the beginning!"

Lucas and Mike seemed to be having it out now and they wouldn't stop despite the many protests from either Dustin or I. My body seemed to have shut down, staring helplessly as my two best friends fight, at a complete loss for words from shock and knowing my words will make no difference.

"That's not true. She helped us find Will!"

"Find Will? Find Will? Where is he, then? Huh? I don't see him."

"Yeah, you know what I mean,"

"No, I actually don't. Just think about it, Mike. She could have just told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn't. She just made us run around like headless chickens."

With every word my body was feeling more and more on edge, my anxiety set in as I felt uncomfortable in my own skin at my friend's tearing each other apart. I started shifting back and forth, my hands rubbing the back of my neck.

Either Dustin noticed this, or he was sick of the fighting as well - or both for that matter - he stomped towards the boys and intervened.

"All right, calm down!"

"No! She used us, all of us! She helped just enough so she could get what she wants. Food and a bed. She's like a stray dog."

"Screw you, Lucas!"

"No! Screw you, Mike. You're blind... blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up! She knows where Will is, and now she's just letting him die in the Upside Down."

"Shut up!"

"For all we know, it's her fault."

"Shut up."

"We're looking for some stupid monster... but did you ever stop to think that maybe she's the monster?"

'I don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe that El is the monster. I don't want my best friend to be missing, I don't want my friends to fight all the time. But at the same time, I can't afford to dismiss the possibility that maybe Lucas had a point. Not about her being a monster. No, that I refuse to believe, but her having something to do with everything that's been going on.'

What came next was a blur.

Mike couldn't take it anymore and lunged at Lucas, the boys toppled to the ground and began wrestling in the dirt. Dustin, El and I screaming at the top of our lungs for them to stop.

I looked to Dustin and El and back at the fighting boys. I ran to them attempting to pry Lucas off of Mike in a panic, knowing there was a big chance I'd get hit. But I didn't care and I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

"Enough! Please, stop! Just-"

I closed my eyes as I saw the blur of Lucas's hand strike me accidentally as he swung his arm back, ready to punch Mike. I felt the back of his fist collide with my nose and I fell back with a painful yelp.

I heard a shrill shriek and opened my eyes in time to see Lucas fly backward in the air about five feet and slide into an abandoned car door, lying unconscious.

I looked to Lucas in horror and ran to him, not caring about my gushing nose.

I dive in front of Lucas, trying to shake him awake.

The boys were right behind me.

"Lucas! Lucas, wake up! Lucas."

Nothing. I checked his head for injuries, my hand never leaving him as I look over my shoulder at El, horrified.

"What did you do?"

El stood rooted to the ground, sobs wracking her body as blood dripped down her nose. I could tell the guilty look in her eyes was genuine but I didn't have time to feel bad for her right now.

Lucas was my main priority. I turned my attention back to my friend.

Dustin and Mike were just as panicked as I was.

"Come on, wake up. Come on!" Dustin yelled.

"Come on, man. Lucas?" Mike muttered worriedly.

"Lucas? Lucas, come on!" I sniffled, weakly shaking him.

To my tremendous relief, Lucas slowly came to with a groan and his eyes fluttered open.

The three of us chuckled and laughed in relief. The weight in my lungs and heart were lifted at the sight

"Lucas." Mike let out in a shaky breath.

Lucas slowly sat up and blinked a few times, processing what just happened.

"Lucas, you okay?" Mike asked.

There was no response from our friend.

Dustin spoke up shakily as he held up three fingers.

"Lucas... Lucas, how many fingers am I holding up? Lucas, how many fingers?"

Mike began reaching forward towards Lucas's head, already one step ahead of me.

"Let me see your head." He offered gently, he was cut short went Lucas angrily shoved Mike's hand away.

"Get off of me!" He grunted, struggling to stand up.

"Lucas, come on, you could be hurt. Let us help." I try, my voice soft reaching for his shoulder.

He pushed my arm away in anger as he stood up, storming past me.

"I said, get off of me!" I detected a hint of fear in his voice this time and less anger, making me more sympathetic than angry at him.

Mike began to chase after him but Dustin and I seem to have the same thought as we both caught each of his arms

"Let him go."

I watched sorrowfully as my friend left without us.

"Man, let him go."

We all shared a somber silence when suddenly Mike spoke up.

"Where is El?"

I looked to where she had been standing previously only to find no one else in sight.

Mike's breathing increased and he began shouting for her.

"El! El!"

"Eleven!" Dustin had joined in.

I stood frozen, my voice failing me. I looked around me as hopelessness sunk in and solidified into guilt. The icy wind whipped my collar as the desperate voices of my friends was lost to the wind.

She was gone.

60 notes · View notes

oonajaeadira · 4 years ago

Text

The Mandalorian Tarot: Major Arcana

If you’re following me, you know this is a Mandalorian obsessive account. I love the man, I love the show, I write a Mando-fando that is all about pining and touch. I tend to go all in when I have an interest.

Another one of my interests? Tarot. A friend challenged me to Mandalorify the major arcana. And because Jon and Dave know their stuff and are good with archetypes (which is all tarot really is), it was an easy fit.

YOU GOT MANDO IN MY TAROT. YOU GOT TAROT IN MY MANDO. TWO GREAT TASTES THAT TASTE GREAT TOGETHER.

But. I can’t draw, so I’ve dreamed them in words and included the Rider-Waite-Smith deck illustrations that I would riff on if I could.

READY? LET’S PLAY.

(All tarot illustrations by Pamela Colman Smith. All Mandalorian images property of Star Wars/Disney.)

UPDATE! @heathenashtattoos has taken up where I cannot and is making these cards a reality! I will post them individually and come back to link them to this post as we go.

0 THE FOOL = THE MANDALORIAN / IT IS MADE! --->

The story of the tarot is the Fool’s journey, the arc of becoming. So it makes sense to me that Din would be the fool. Fits even better, since he has tremendous Fool energy in his himbo tendencies, just rushing forward into situations without a lot of planning--he’ll deal with it when he’s in it--ready to rely on others to show him the way or guide/help him to the next step.

If I could draw: Din on the cliff, with his jetpack on, meaning he has no fear of falling. Instead of the bindle-stick the Fool carries, he’d have his pulse rifle slung over his shoulder. Instead of the dog nipping at his heels, Grogu. And, of course, the landscape would be Tatooine/Navaro-esque.

~~~

1 THE MAGICIAN = LUKE SKYWALKER , IT IS MADE! --->

The Magician is someone who is still learning to bend the laws of magic/the Universe, but very adept with their tools. Since Luke is only a few years into his Jedi training at this time, he makes a pretty good Magician.

If I could draw: Luke in his blacks, holding up his lightsaber. The Jedi symbol would replace the infinity sign.

***

2 THE HIGH PRIESTESS = AHSOKA TANO / IT IS MADE! -->

High Priestess is further along the path of her magic than Magician, and her knowledge is more intuitive, her skills more effortless. Where the Magician is still learning the balance of light and dark, the High Priestess knows the value and pitfalls of both. It was always going to be Ahsoka.

If I could draw: Ahsoka sitting cross-legged in meditation mode, but with eyes open and a knowing smile. Instead of two pillars, she holds her lightsabers up and parallel to each other.

***

3 THE EMPRESS = PELI MOTTO / IT IS MADE! -->

The Empress is the mother figure, the energy in the universe that provides all that is needed and embodies the energy of creation. I can see the argument for Omera being the Empress--mostly because she is a mom and she’s soft and a lot of people see the Empress as a soft female figure, I get it. (And if I were to do a minor arcana, girl would show up as one of the Queens for sure.) But in the end, I gave it to Peli because she’s a recurring character, more relevant in his story, and if Din is the Fool, Peli is more an Empress to him. She’s able to be the provider of his particular needs; services to his ship to get him up flying, contact and location information, and she’s always willing to care for Grogu whenever she gets the chance.

If I could draw: Peli sitting in the dock, against the R4 unit, holding aloft a spanner and surrounded by her pit droids.

***

4 THE EMPEROR = BOBA FETT / IT IS MADE! -->

The Emperor is all about authority. And all I gotta say about Boba is BIG DICK ENERGY.

If I could draw: Just put him on the Jabba throne and let him lounge like a badass.

~~~

5 THE HIEROPHANT = THE ARMORER / IT IS MADE! -->

The Hierophant is the keeper of traditions and a spiritual guide. As the leader of the covert and keeper of the Way, The Armorer fits.

If I could draw: The Armorer, framed by her forge, holding aloft her tools, with Mandalorian acolytes. Instead of the crossed keys at the bottom, let’s just have a mythosaur skull.

***

6 THE LOVERS = FROG LADY AND FROG HUSBAND

This should be obvious and I will fight anyone who says it isn’t the right thing to do. I will die for this.

If I could draw: I would actually depart from the Smith depiction and just draw them embracing or holding each other by the arms and staring into each others’ eyes. Some kind of glowing background? Maybe the egg tank?

***

7 THE CHARIOT = THE MUDHORN

Oh. You thought I was going to say the Razor Crest, didn’t you. Don’t worry, I have plans for our beloved craft, but it ain’t here. The Chariot can be a ride, yes, but it’s about victory. Sometimes it’s about the victory over your inner “beastly” natures. To travel to the next phase in the journey, the Fool must take on the beasts that drive the Chariot and claim dominance over them, and when he does, they will carry him to the next level. Since it’s the victory of the beastly mudhorn that brings Din to his bond with Grogu and becomes his signet, Mudhorn for the win.

If I could draw: Again, I’d probably play on Smith’s imagery, put the charging mudhorn in the middle, and replace the rams with Din on his knees brandishing the vibroblade and Grogu in his pram with his Force hand up.

***

8 STRENGTH = CARA DUNE

Don’t come at me about including Cara. I am glad Gina got shown the door and I lose no love on that bigot. But. Cara is not Gina and to cut her out is to cut out Jon and Dave’s creation and I won’t do it. I actually love her a lot--she’s got her flaws, but she’s sassy and strong and solid, and I would happily accept a piggyback ride from her any day. She’s also a major player in Din’s story and deserves a spot in it. Strength comes after the Chariot--once you’ve conquered the beast within, you have confident dominion over it and it becomes a companion or a tool for your use. Cara is one with her toughness, she’s used it to do some good and bad shit in her past, and she continues to wield it effortlessly and fearlessly. She is absolutely this card.

If I could draw: I would put her maybe sitting on top of the downed ATST. I’d replace the infinity symbol over her head with the one on her cheek (Rebel Alliance).

~~~

9 THE HERMIT = KUIIL

The Hermit is a loner, yes, but in his solitude he looks within, learns from all he’s been through, and becomes wise. He holds aloft a light of wisdom and truth. This was always going to be Kuiil.

If I could drawn: Just our buddy, looking out over the Arvala-7 landscape, holding aloft an in-universe working lamp. No need to get fancy. He would want it to stay simple.

***

10 THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE = IMPERIAL SYMBOL AND STORM TROOPERS

The Wheel is fate. You win some, you lose some. Sometimes you’re on top, and sometimes the Wheel crushes you beneath it. You are helpless to its roll and where you’ll land. Storm Troopers are such a sad bunch. They are keepers of Imperial Law on the ground. On a good day, they capture a Rebel or hold off an attack. On a bad day, their Moff just blasts them to make an example.

If I could draw: The wheel would just be the Imperial symbol and there’d be Troopers on and under it. Maybe the one on top is just standing there, looking authoritative. The one underneath has been blasted. Some Wheels have two more figures--one on each side--and I’d add those too. The one on the down-going side would be falling, arms flailing, blaster shooting (if only sound were available, there’d be a Whilhelm scream), and the one on the up-going side would just be dangling by one arm, along for the ride.

***

11 JUSTICE = COBB VANTH

Well, it just feels right to make the Marshal into Justice. But it’s not just a literal translation of making sure the right thing gets done and the bad guys are punished. Justice is about wiping away emotion and making decisions with bare truth, looking at every side of the situation and understanding what is really there. And I think Cobb fits this well. He doesn’t want to give up his armor because of what it means for the protection of his people. But he’s willing to consider it, if there’s another way he can protect them. Emotionally, he doesn’t want to deal with the Tusken Raiders, but he does it because he can see it’s the best course of action. He flies into battle with the Krayt Dragon. He gives up his armor without a fight. He makes a fair trade and sees the balance in it because he walks away from the emotion and chooses the best course of action. Cobb Vanth for Justice, errybody.

If I could draw: Cobb in the Fett armor, but with the helmet at his feet. In one hand, a bottle of spotchka. In the other, the Tusken mushroom drinky thing; he’s holding them with equal balance.

***

12 THE HANGED MAN = MIGS MAYFELD

The Hanged Man is not just about a dude who’s hanging upside down. (If that was the case, I would have just gone with Gor Koresh and called it a day.) Hanged Man is about changing your perspective to see things in a new way so you can grow. Many times, this growth also requires sacrifice. Over the two episodes we see Mayfeld, we know he goes from Imperial sharp shooter, to traumatized deserter, to merc, prisoner, and exonerated friend. He’s seen some shit, given up a lot, and he’s willing to see how he can be a help to others and find redemption for himself.

If I could draw: Hear me out. Take the image of Mayfeld hanging upside down from the Crest hatch into the prison ship. Mirror that above with an image of him in his Imperial Ground Transport gear. Flip it all upside down so bad Mayfeld up top, good Mayfeld on bottom, images mirrored but inverted, hence “looking at things a new way and getting everything a little topsy-turvey.”

~~~

13 DEATH = MOFF GIDEON

Death is about transformation, so it’s not always the most sinister card. But Death does not discriminate. It comes for us all, constantly stalking, and it will strike you down to serve its needs. You need to face Death to get to your redemption. But really, Gideon is our big baddie here, so why the hell not.

If I could draw: I would forgo the Smith illustration and go for the Marseilles tradition on this one. Gideon and the Darksaber replaces Death and the scythe.

***

14 TEMPERANCE = IG-11

Temperance is the transformation that comes after Death. Once Death has chopped your physical being into pieces with his scythe, Temperance is there to take all your pieces and put them back together into something new and better. It’s also a card that asks you to re-evaluate your priorities and see if you can find better motivations than you previously had. IG’s death and reprogramming speak loudly to me on this.

If I could draw: IG pouring the tea.

***

15 THE DEVIL = THE CLIENT

Here’s another baddie card that’s all about your worst faults, about excess and giving into the stuff that will eventually kill your soul. The Client holds on hard to the Empire, doing whatever he’s ordered to do to be one of the top dogs. And in the end, it doesn’t matter. Gideon takes him down like he’s nothing.

If I could draw: The client, wearing his Empire bling, with chains around Doctor Pershing and a rough-looking Storm Trooper.

***

16 THE TOWER = THE RAZOR CREST

I don’t know about you, but Chapter 14 killed me. And not because the Dark Troopers flew away with Grogu. We all knew Din would never stop at getting him back. But when the Crest was destroyed, it was like someone punched me in the soft parts, and I made a lot of severely anguished noises. The Tower is the most tragic card in the tarot. It’s when forces beyond your control make a very big (and usually negative) impact in your life and everything changes. You are left to pick up the pieces and survive any way you can with the skills and resources you’ve been blessed with.

If I could draw: Just that moment of the ray hitting our beautiful Crest, just as it begins to break apart, maybe with Din, Boba, and Fennec watching in horror in the foreground.

~~~

17 THE STAR = GROGU

The Star is hope. It comes after the biggest tragedy in the deck to tell you that not all is lost. There is always something there to live for. C’mon, kids. In this series, there was only one choice.

If I could draw: Just Grogu. Maybe drinking his soup. Or maybe he’s levitating his metal ball overhead, reaching up to it with a smile on his face. *coos*

***

18 THE MOON = BO KATAN KRYZE

We all like Bo Katan, sure. But remember my Clone Wars/Rebels fiends, she was Death Watch, and they were terrorists. She sided with Maul to take over Mandalore. Sure, she’s come a long way and her path is a bit more honorable now, but she’s got an agenda, which makes her hard to trust. Since the Moon is about more feminine energies and has themes of illusion and deception--things look great in the moonlight, but maybe not as they really are--Bo Katan’s our girl.

If I could draw: Head and shoulders profile, double-imaged so you see her face, but her Nite Owl helmet superimposed in profile over it. Nite Owl signet on the bottom. Possibly flanked by her two Nite Owl cronies.

***

19 THE SUN = GREEF KARGA

Everything's sunny when Greef’s around! He’s the feel-good gramps that’s going to make any situation A-Ok! If you’ve got a problem, Greef can sort it out...or he knows someone who can! The sun is always gonna shine on you and take you back.

If I could draw: Just Greef smiling and being cheesy with the halo of the sun around him.

***

20 JUDGEMENT = FENNEC SHAND

This card traditionally shows the resurrected rising from the grave, ready to be judged. Fennec’s got a lot to answer for in her life, but she is being given a second chance, and my number one girl crush is going to do new and wonderful badass things with it.

If I could draw: I’d either just show her opening her gut pocket to show her new works, all full of aura, with her looking down at it reverently. OR I might do a scene of her being rescued by Boba.

~~~

21 THE WORLD = THE HELMET

Din’s helmet is the world he lives in. But it’s also a symbol of The Way. The World represents completion, a wholeness of self and being, the end of the journey. And since Din is our Fool, his journey is an exploration of his morals and honor, what it means to walk the way of the Mandalore, and what the meaning of the helmet is for him. He may choose ultimately to keep it on and go all-in on Mandalorian-4-lyfe (Child of the Watch style), or he may understand that the helmet is just a symbol and the honor was in him all along; he can wear it or not wear it and it’s all the same.

If I could draw: The World usually depicts a circle or sphere of some kind, the symbol of perfect completion. The helmet is close enough, so it takes up the center. Traditionally, there are four symbols in the corners that give more meaning to The World, and I would replace them with The Razor Crest, Grogu, the Mudhorn Signet, and the pulse rifle or blaster. These represent his home, his foundling, his clan, and his religion, all of which make up more of the whole; what it means to him to be Mandalorian.

~~~~~~~~~~

Challenge accepted and faced.

Adira dops her witchy mic….

#the mandalorian #mandalorian #tarot #mandalorian tarot #star wars #din djarin #luke skywalker #ahsoka tano #grogu #bo katan hate gang

178 notes · View notes

katymacsupernatural · 4 years ago

Text

The Proposal Part 11

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Story Summary: Jensen needs help keeping his life in order. To keep the media off his back. In order to do so, he comes up with a plan. Y/N, just a producer’s assistant, is pulled in to play a part she never thought she would have. Jensen’s fiancee. Only will it stay as a part to play, or will she start to want more?

Catch Up: Masterpost

The plane ride back to Vancouver was quiet, but not uneasy. Jensen had his script out, going over his lines while you mindlessly stared at the book in your hand. A historical romance book that seemed to have nothing on your life right now.

Your life would make any fiction story pale in comparison right now. With a fake engagement that turned into a real engagement, you were sure it would be any author’s dream. But it was real, and it was happening to you. Now.

How could you focus on the book in front of you when your mind continued to swirl around and dissect your current situation. How were things going to be now that you were back in Vancouver? Would working on set be awkward. How was Jensen going to act now that he was away from his family, and back with his friends and coworkers?

And then there was the matter of your brother. You couldn’t wait until you could pry him away from your Aunt and Uncle. To get him back with you where he belongs. It was going to take time, and money, and patience. None of which you had much of.

“Y/N, you’ve been staring at the same page for the last ten minutes now. What’s up?”

Giving up hope on the book, you closed it, placing it back on your lap. “Just thinking about what’s going to happen when we land. There’s so much that needs to happen or could go wrong. I just don’t want to disappoint you, or ruin things.”

Jensen reached for and grasped your hand, offering you support. “We’re in new territory for both of us. We’re both bound to make mistakes. It’s gonna happen. We’re still getting to know each other. On top of that, we’ve turned a fake engagement into a real one. It’s a lot of stress for both of us. But I believe we can get through it.”

He held your hand the rest of the way as the plane skidded to a stop. His words had calmed your nerves, at least for now. But you knew they were bound to pop right back up. After all, there were so many unknown variables.

Stretching in bed the next morning, you had to agree with Jensen. Your apartment was tiny, and probably not in the greatest part of town. It was one room, your kitchen, your living room and bed all within an arm’s length away from each other. Your neighbors across the hall got into tremendous fights, while the people above you listened to techno music at two in the morning. But it was yours, and you were able to save the rest of your money for the day you would be able to fight for your brother.

You had tried to make the place homey, with your colorful quilt and vintage pictures hanging on the wall. But it didn’t hide the water stain in the corner or the stained tile in the kitchen. But it was your own place, and that had been enough until Jensen had stepped into the cramped space last night. His large stature had made the small place seem minuscule. He had glanced around, his face full of dismay.

“This is where you live?” He had asked, and you nodded, slightly ashamed of your tiny run-down place.��

“It’s cheap. I can save the rest of my paycheck,” you had answered back defensively.

He had continued to frown before leaving last night without saying another word, and you wondered how he was going to react today.

You didn’t have long to wait. As soon as you arrived at the set, ready to let the never-ending duties of a PA keep your mind occupied, Jensen was tugging on your hand, pulling you into his trailer.

“Morning to you too,” you muttered as he forced you to the couch. Handing you a cup of coffee, he perched on the stool across from you.

“Morning,” he muttered distractedly. “Listen, I’ve been thinking. Most of the night to be in fact. About you and that apartment. About your brother. And I’ve come to a decision I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“You’re going to move in with me. I know, we hadn’t talked about it before. But that seems like the best option. You’ll be somewhere safer. Somewhere your brother can move into that the court won’t argue with.”

“Okay,” you answered simply, knowing that it was the best thing. While you loved having your own place, you would do everything in your power to get your brother back.

He seemed taken back that you didn’t put up an argument. “Good, that’s settled. Tonight, after work, you’ll get what you need and bring it to my apartment. We can go back later and get everything else, place it in storage for now.”

Sipping on your coffee, you couldn’t believe how fast everything was happening. “And my apartment?”

A knock on the door stopped him just as he opened his mouth to answer. “Jensen, you’re supposed to be in makeup!”

“We can talk about that later,” he answered. “You can keep it, or whatever. But we’re going to have bigger things to worry about soon enough.”

He stepped out of his trailer, leaving you there with an empty coffee mug, and your heart racing. What big things?

As you made your way to the offices, you wondered if you were going to be able to handle it all. It seemed like each new minute you were thrown a curveball, and soon enough one might be strong enough to knock you off your feet.

“Y/N!” Jim called out. “Come see me in my office please.”

Gulping, you followed him into the spacious office. The office that just last week had turned your life upside down. Sitting down on the edge of the seat, you stared nervously at him. “How was this weekend?” He asked, opening up his laptop.

“It went well,” you answered nervously. “His family was nice.”

“Good, good.” To be honest, he seemed more interested in his computer than you, and you hoped he would get to the point so you could go on with your day. Finally, he glanced up, turning the computer around. Jensen’s face was on the screen, on one of the main entertainment websites. “Is this Bachelor no longer available?” The title read. Skimming through the article, you saw they had found out about the party. But there was no mention of you by name.

“I talked to Jensen this morning, and we want to make a more public announcement. The proposal at the brewery was fine. But we want it to be more widespread. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We want to do photos, Have a big engagement party up here. Staff, friends, a couple of entertainment magazine people. But before that, we will have staged engagement photos taken. I’m thinking Wednesday. Jensen has a light shooting day, and I can get someone to cover you. Of course, we’ll pay for your dress and the party. All you have to do is look pretty, and pretend to be in love with Jensen. That can’t be that hard, can it?”

Read Chapter 12

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @bi-danvers0 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537 @deansgirl215 @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @screechingartisancashbailiff @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987

The Proposal Tags: @supraveng @vicmc624 @lottieellz101 @impala-dreamer @maddiepants @emilyshurley @tonystark-makes-me-cry @starryeyeseunbyul @rach-12 @spnfamily-j2 @ima-be-a-mongoose @flamencodiva @compresshischest09 @parinarain @stoneyggirl @tftumblin @massivelycreepypineapple @posiemax @traceyaudette @peacedolantwins2 @eliwinchester99 @deans-baby-momma @aiofheavenandhell @athenamikaelson @samsgirl93 @meowmeow-motherfucker @chevyimpala00067 @metalfangirl

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algudaodoce03 @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498 @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 �� @tatted-trina6 @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99blog @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93 @nanie5 @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek @thewinchesterchronicles @valsworldofcreativity @vvinch3st3r @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen

#the proposal #jensen ackles x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural rpf #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #spn fanfic #spn rpf #jensen rpf #jensen x y/n #reader insert

205 notes · View notes

morkleemelon · 4 years ago

Text

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head.

“Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching.

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner.

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it.

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged.

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself.

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features.

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither.

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person.

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”.

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway.

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals.

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower.

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear.

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all.

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully.

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do.

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror.

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly.

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection.

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed.

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones.

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people.

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…”

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down.

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused.

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this.

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure.

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side.

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake.

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”.

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it.

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile.

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry.

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”.

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest.

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe.

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips.

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago.

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone.

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that?

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation.

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply.

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”.

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada.

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about.

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit.

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings.

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you.

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff.

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy.

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

previous || m.list || playlist || next

167 notes · View notes