#.the vibes of the festival are still weighing down on her so she is

[sansloii]

☺ ( Cassie @ Hatty)

“I am not going to compliment a man that has deluded himself into thinking he is correct when he insults me. He believed his lie even though he knew it was not true and honestly, I'd find his conviction impressive if I didn't think he lacked basic decency.” she states, “Why should I offer anything — even in jest — when asking him to genuinely apologize is too difficult for him? He gets nothing, as he deserves.”

free compliments nevermind | @soraeia

#🗪 ┊ ⧼ you all are some chatty cathys! ⧽ ⇹ ( asks. ) #✖ ┊ ⧼ little sunshine ⧽ ⇹ ( c. ) #⚜ ┊ ( imperial au. ) #.cassie is just 'we're not doing this. i'm tired' #.the vibes of the festival are still weighing down on her so she is #.testy #.and won't cooperate

[a-song-for-ages]

A Thousand Lives and One (B1)

alternately known as ; a thousand eyes and one

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Introduction < B1

Note: the amount of times i've written this and had it NOT saved. this is the last time - the third time. if it does not publish... then I'll cry

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Summary:

War came and war went, leaving behind a burning land and sons and daughters of the dead. Such is the price of war - spilled blood and sacrifice... such is the price of the Crown... the blood that the Iron Throne calls for.

And Saera Velaryon paid for it - as did her mother, as did her brothers, as did every Targaryen who rode their dragons into battle. They paid for it - the war they called for - in fire and blood.

And then Saera Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne, if only for a day, before she called for Fire and Blood once more.

For a Targaryen knows no rest, lest dragonflame claim then.

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The summary sucks because I suck at summaries and also because this is the third time I'm writing it and I have no braincells left to remember what I originally wrote which was a thousand times better than this muck.

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Part 1 | B1

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Warnings: angst (of sorts) ; major character death ; the whole "right person wrong time" vibes and and yeah

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They married on the night of her coronation -

"We best get the formalities out of the way," she told Cregan.

"If it is an order, then -"

"What if it were not?" Saera asked, looking to Cregan with a hard gaze. She was queen now, and the so called crown atop her head - a simple circlet of gold, not her mother's crown, or the Conqueror's, for looking at them only brought a sudden urge to weep and rage all at once - glinted as she stared down the man who seated her on the Iron Throne. 

He was a Stark - made of ice entirely, contrasting greatly to the fire that made her whole - and he was her mother's most loyal supporter... regardless of having never met the woman herself, he met her son, and then her daughter, both of them so different, yet so alike. 

One thing rung clear to him, the Warden of the North, that if Rhaenyra Targaryen had not the oath and fealty of his father, he would have still knelt and called her Queen, swearing his banners and men to her, for the children she raised and sent to him were not only of noble blood, but of noble character, and had only spoke of the Realm and their wish for peace. Not war - not like the Green's, who sought the Iron Throne for decades, it seemed. Not the Green's, who were the first to spill blood, declaring an end to a battle of words, and the beginning to a battle of steel.

Cregan managed a smile at his Queen, whose gaze remained hard - cold, it was, and strange, for Cregan could swear he saw a fire burn in the depths of her blue eyes. Fire that burns is surely no match to fire that freezes. 

"I would find myself hoping for festivities that would last a winter," was his response, and his Queen's lip had wobbled in the slightest at his words.

She would have laughed… had they been betrothed, and had there been no war. But all Saera felt after her ascension, was a heavy cloud of grief that began to weigh her down. But perhaps that was the Crown - or the price of it.

Saera wouldn't have known for very long - because she had soon married Cregan Stark in the godswood she would run around as a child, flowers falling from her hair. 

She was dressed as plain as a maid - her hair brought back in two plaits, the gold of the circlet that dug into her crown was removed, and Saera and Cregan knelt before the Weirwood tree, heads bent, appearing as they were… mere servants of the Crown - of the Realm.

And then it was her wedding night, and Saera and Cregan had only sat in the dimness of what was once the King's room - but was how the Queen's, and her Consort's, and Saera had whispered to Cregan, "Am I dreaming?"

"No more than I am," he whispered back, and he lightly touched her knuckles with the pads of his fingers, and Saera had looked at him, desperate for comfort. 

"Does it get easier? The loss?"

"War leaves a mark on men, and women," and Saera's eyes crinkled, remembering their talk on Valyrian and the fact that it was a gendered language, "one that never leaves. The pain never lessens, neither does the loss. You can only learn to live with it - the dagger set deep in your heart, frozen beyond thawing."

And Saera had gripped Cregan's hand just then, and he continued to talk when he noticed her closed eyes and listening ears, "You learn to live with it. But that does not mean it gets easier, or the pain lessens… you only get used to it, that constant presence."

And Saera had let out a ragged breath, before Cregan wiped away her tears, and she whispered, "I wish to see my brother… and my - my cousin."

And Cregan followed her - accompanied her to the room of her brother, who she only hugged and cried with. The boy refused to let his tears fall, but when Saera wrapped her arms around him, whispering in the tongue only they knew, his eyes began to weep. 

And then she looked to Cregan, and said, "Sweet Jahaera… my memory of Helaena. Will you bring her to me?"

And Cregan had nodded, going off to find the only living child of the late Princess, who Cregan knew, Saera never wished any harm, nor meant it…

And when Jahaera came, Saera had made her brother sit beside her, before she called the girl with open arms, crying, "Sweet cousin," and Saera broke down in tears when her eyes fell upon the emotionless ones of the girl who never made a sound - not even in Saera's arms that enveloped her, holding her, rubbing her back. 

"Are you of the same cloth as your mother?" Saera had asked. "Do you not like the feel of touch? Does it burn you as it did her?"

And Jahaera only said, "Only the touch of my enemies. And those of my father."

And it broke Saera, and it angered Aegon, and Saera had decided just then, as she let out a breath, "It is alright, then, for you to hate a person. But I ask that you have that person be responsible for our shared pain. I ask that you hate the ones who lusted after a throne that was never meant to be theirs - whoever that may be."

And Jahaera had only looked at her cousin - the Sad Queen, and she remained silent. 

When Aegon had fallen asleep, his hands fisted into her nightgown, Saera had asked, "Should you wish to retire to your own room, little Dragon? Or will you remain with me, the last of your House?"

Saera did not blame her when she said, "There is none left of my house." And the girl's lip pursed as she said, "I should like my room, your Grace."

And Saera bit her lip, reaching to touch Jahaera's hair - but refrained from doing it at the last minute, remembering how the girl expressed her dislike for her. 

She would not force the girl to conform to her ideologies. If she believed her father was the rightful king, then let her think so. If she believed her mother to be Maegor come again, then let her believe so. 

Jahaera was a girl - young, like Saera had once been, and she knew, further antagonizing the girl, would only make her seek to follow the footsteps of her mother… and Saera had seen enough death. So she let her go, the daughter of the Usurper King.

The two of them were similar, Saera had thought, walking with her cousin to her room, flanked by guards, after all, it was Jahaera, too, who helplessly watched her brother be killed.

With a heavy, torn heart, Saera bade her cousin goodnight, before she returned to Aegon's room, where Cregan was sat on the chair beside the bed, his head tilted back, eyes closed - but one opened when she opened the door, and he sat up, greeting her with the intensity of his grey eyes.

"Forgive me," she had whispered, "for I have not done my duty as your wife."

"We've enough time for duty," Cregan said. "Now, is time for rest."

And Saera had looked at him, a sad pout on her lips as her eyes filled with tears once more. Would it ever end? The crying? She almost wanted to ask Cregan if he cried for his lost brother still - but she stopped herself, knowing what it felt like to have the strings of her heart be pulled. She would not dare do it to him. Not now. Not ever.

"Then come rest," Saera had said, going onto the bed, her back facing Aegon's sleeping form, "with me, husband."

And Cregan had joined after her, holding onto her, and kissing her head, her crown, and her fingers - especially when they began to tremble and shake and hold onto the soft cotton of his tunic. 

The three had fallen asleep like that - with Saera's back turned to Cregan, and her arms holding tightly onto Aegon, and with Cregan's own arms draped over her and covering her hands that held the boy. 

They slept, but Saera woke in a sweat, and Cregan woke after her, having to hold her tightly as she began to gasp softly, whispering to her that it was done - the war was done - it was over, there would be no more bloodshed, and Saera had forced herself to calm, especially when Cregan said, "Little Egg is here, he is safe. You are safe. I swear it." And Saera had turned to him, before she made to sit on the edge of the bed, breathing. 

"I shall fetch you some water," Cregan said.

"No need, Creg," Saera whispered, but her husband had only said, "Wait here."

She assumed he needed a walk - wondered if his skin crawled as hers did, remembering the faces of the ones they both had lost. 

She felt ill just then, and even though her husband had told her to wait for him, she felt the world spin and the air burn with a haze, spinning around her.

It reminded her of Gaelithox, her beloved dragon, and the memories of that great loss had her heart screaming for release - for reprieve.

Not wanting to awaken her brother, Saera had brushed his hair past his forehead, and pressed a gentle kiss to it. 

He shuffled, and his hand caught hers, and Saera only left when her tears threatened to spill with the cry caught at the back of her throat.

She left the room, and dismissed her guards, saying, "Protect my brother, and tell my husband I shall come soon." 

And Saera had walked aimlessly - she hadnt recognized the Red Keep, and immediately knew she would remove every inch of Hightower from it. Every inch of the Faith. They were the cause for this, she raged, her heart looking for others to blame.

And before she knew it, she was facing the skull of Balerion - Meraxes was on an altar beside him, and she breathed in, before she fell to her knees, crying as broken Valyrian words left her mouth.

When her tears finally died down, as did the sound of her voice, Saera made herself stand.

"Even when I am brought to my knees," she croaked, staring into the empty sockets of the skull of the great Black Dread, fire dancing in her eyes - as if taunting the dragon - the god of death that he was named after, I am alive, and you are not, is that why you continue to take from me? 

"Still, I will rise." A statement? Or a promise? Whatever it may have been - it was between Saera, who had lost so much, and Balerion, the Valyrian god who had taken so much from her… it was between them two, a secret whispered in Valyrian, a promise that would prove to be true… but only when Saera had felt a sharp pain in her chest, and she had breathed in…

And she registered what was happening…

Balerion. Death. Have you come again?

And her ribs burned, and her blood fell, staining the back of her nightgown.

You coward.

But she was weak, and tired, and she had no fight left in her, not as she remembered the feeling of dying beside her dragon, and only awaking with a shout of a word, "Dracarys," did she repeat it - her first word would be the last she uttered… a whisper, a prayer, a promise.

And so did Saera Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, First of Her Name, fall to her knees as her assailant released the blade that was dug into her back - a cowardly act - with a smile on her face as the blood that stained her gown grew.

At last, an end. 

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Man do I hope this is the end of me writing this chapter and editing it a thousand times because I. Am. Tired. Of Tumblr fucking me up.

Anyways hope yall enjoyed thisssss. (It's not the end. Nor the beginning. It's quite literally the middle of a story that's at it end bit also it's beginning - does that make sense? Eh.)

#oc: saera targaryen #a thousand lives and one #wip: a thousand eyes and one #atlao: part 1 #oc: saera velaryon #cregan stark #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #jahaera targaryen #dracarys

[cheekygreenty]

Familiar - The Darkling x Reader

He was living his worst nightmare. You were in danger because of him. He swore to protect you, to get himself caught in the crossfire if it meant saving you but right now he was useless and you were suffering. He didn't know where you were or who took you from the Palace, the place he said was like a fortress, the safest place in Ravka. You were swiped from right under his nose, most likely roughly and mercilessly and it was all because you loved him.

He never wanted anyone to know of your relationship, you were his most protected and valued secret and he would put his life on the line to keep it that way. But now you were gone and he couldn't bare to look at himself. The promise he made to you was broken and he let you down.

For our love is a ghost that the others can't see

You agreed with it too, knowing that you would immediately become a target if Aleksander introduced you as his. But here you were now, sitting in the back of a moving coach, gagged and handcuffed with a blood and tear stained face.

The ride was more bumpy and painful than it was at the start, having now been on it for at least 4 hours, you knew you were far from home and heading to Fjerda.

The realization hit you as soon as you felt a pair of strong hands at your wrists, holding them apart in the safety of your chambers to prevent you from summoning. The festivities were loud and blocked out your shouts of self-defense and cries for help. That's where Aleksander's protection had run out, right there in your shared rooms.

You cursed yourself as more tears slipped out your eyes, you were a fool who didn't listen to their own advice. Ravka didn't know about you, the Darkling seemingly had no weaknesses until your irrationally tipsy behavior. Tonight's stupid actions would cost you your life.

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'Enjoying the celebrations?' You held your fourth champagne glass of the night tightly in your hand as you walked up to Aleksander and Ivan. They were all business and no party as the Little Palace roared to life following a day of successful business negotiations. Grisha of all orders let loose and had fun, forgetting the troubles of war as foreign delegations joined in, all in unity for a single night of fun.

The Zemeni were dancing with the Kerch, the Shu were peacefully discussing with the Kaelish, it was a utopia. Your own mind was for once calm, be it the champagne or the vibes you didn't know and didn't care.

'You did a very good job Y/N, I'm impressed.' Ivan gestured to the party and pride filled you. It was stressful and nerve-racking to plan a banquet of this magnitude, but seeing it all accomplished and with no fights made you unbelievably happy.

'Thank you Ivan. Go enjoy yourself, I'm sure Fedyor is looking for you.'

He walked away just as you'd hoped, leaving you and Aleksander alone. You moved a step closer, taking his hand in yours.

'It is magnificent darling, you look magnificent too.' His head dipped as it usually did when he was about to kiss you, but he stopped himself and instead looked around the room, inspecting it to make sure no one was watching him.

'Relax, we're in a large crowd, I highly doubt anyone is paying us any mind.' With the foreign ambassadors here, Aleksander's black attire was balanced out with black tuxedos and suits. He wasn't sticking out anymore, he blended in. You wanted to be with him, and perhaps you could be right now.

'If you say so' Although your words did something to reassure him, his sweet lips were brief on yours. It was a short kiss, but he somehow conveyed his love for you in that quick second before he was back to his usual General persona.

'Alright General Kirigan, I'll go annoy Genya.' You joked and in the process knocked the glass over onto your fine silk kefta. 'Shit'

You didn't miss the look of amusement on his face as you tried to dry the stain with your sleeve. 'Or I'll go and change' you laughed, leaning into his laughing body.

You were certain the moment was intimate and private, that nobody was watching, but a pair of eyes closely watched the scene from afar, mouth open ajar as he found the Darkling's only weakness; You.

--------------

'Moi Soverenyi what is the meaning of all this?' Ivan didn't expect to be dragged out of bed at this hour and see the General's inner circle crowded around his war table in their nightclothes. He thought the banquet went well: nobody fought or got injured or even argued, it was the perfect night so to speak. But the powerful Grisha still dressed in his silk black kefta was restless and panicked.

His hair was disheveled and he looked ready to kill as he stood with his back to everyone, facing the big map of Ravka. The room was silent save for a few yawns and sighs. Nobody knew anything about why they were there but the tension surrounding their commander was hostile and frightening.

'Y/N Y/L/N is missing from Palace grounds. I think she may have been taken.' Ivan stilled, he was the only person in the room who knew of the relationship between his General and you and had grown to like your refreshing presence. He cared for you in a brotherly way and your disappearance ignited a fury in him.

'I need you searching the streets, interrogating the delegates, anything we can to bring her back.' His face was still turned away from them, and Ivan knew he wouldn't turn around.

Aleksander was beside himself with worry and guilt, he was on the verge of tears. You were gone and it was his fault. His mind was swirling with the accusations and the self-hate, but also with memories of you. Your life echoed around the walls of his head, bouncing off of his heart with a shatter.

He wasn't going to wake up tomorrow next to you curled up in his arms. He wasn't going to hear you rant over breakfast. You were gone and it was his fault.

He was trying so hard to devise a plan to find you, to command his Grisha and be a General, but in that moment he was just Aleksander, Y/N's Aleksander. Worry took up his mind and all the commanding bones in his body yearned to have you next to him.

He turned his head briefly to Ivan, who had the same expression on his face that Genya wore when he woke her up searching for Y/N. She was already out in the streets of Os Alta with David, trying their luck with tracking your jewelry.

'We leave in 10 minutes. Every single Grisha in the Second Army will be used if need be.' If you listened closely, you could hear the edge to his voice, a slight pang of heartbreak and anguish. He was trying to hide it, but alas he was only a man.

The Grisha started muttering amongst themselves and Ivan caught a few words of their conversations and couldn't help but let the rage rise in him 'She's not even that good of a soldier.....' 'Who is that?' 'I want to go back to bed....'

'A foreign dignitary had the audacity to kidnap a Grisha after we let them into our home and you speak of going to bed?'

'Ivan.' Fedyor warned him.

'Moi Soverenyi, with all due respect, Y/L/N was simply a teacher to the younger Grisha, not a high-ranking soldier with valuable intel. Should we really assume a kidnapping happened? For all we know it was desertion. Y/N found a good moment to slip out and escaped.'

Every shade of us you fade down to keep

Them in the dark on who we are

The second those words were spoken by Polina, Aleksander's black shadows let loose. They crept up her legs and around her throat, tightening and tightening until air could no longer enter the inferni's lungs. She was petrified, she was simply stating another perspective on the situation but her General's and Ivan's responses told her her opinion was not wanted at all.

Aleksander stopped himself before he killed her. It was his fault, all of it. His Grisha didn't take this seriously because they didn't know who Y/N truly was to him, perhaps a secret ready to be shared, spoke a voice deep in the back of his head, not your voice though. He wouldn't tell anyone anything until he had your approval. If he ever got it.

'Believe me, Y/N was no deserter.'

'10 minutes!' Barked Ivan at the Grisha when none of them moved from their tired trance.

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You didn't know Fjerdan fluently but you knew enough to make out the most important words 'We crossed the border', 'Witch', 'let her burn'. It was enough to drown your hope of escaping and coming home to Aleksander and your Grisha.

You never got involved in any war or fighting, simply choosing to teach the young students the basics of summoning. It made you content and happy, whereas war made you anxious and nervous. Your body had only ever known the luxuries of the Little Palace, the feel of a pen or book in your hands. To add to it, your powers were never used in a defensive way only summoned when you taught, so this was a drastic turn of events to say the least.

Being dragged and beaten by the Fjerdans, insulted in a foreign language, and cuffed so the one comfort you had available to you was useless, brought you to your knees despite the initial training you received when you joined the Second-Army. I am no soldier, I am a teacher.

The border had been crossed and you were officially a Fjerdan captive, ready to sit a trail where you would be found guilty and hanged for your gifts. The chances of Aleksander finding you were slim to none as you tried to remember if any clues were left behind at the scene of your kidnapping. The Fjerdans were quick and concise, neat and skilled, leaving no traces of their presence in your chambers.

The back of the carriage yanked open and let in the evening sun, blinding you in the process. You stopped counting the time after the 8th hour passed and your space was still pitch black. The shadows once were a comfort, now they were simply a tool to frighten you even more.

'Let's go, Witch.' A tall man spoke as he grabbed you by the arm, dragging you as if you didn't weigh anything. You complied, not seeing a reason to tire yourself by fighting back. It was pointless and futile.

You were in the middle of nowhere, a field of open green space with patches of snow. Fjerda. You'd never been anywhere near the border even, but the cold wind was whiplash-inducing just as Aleksander once described it.

'I thought I am to face trial.' You had barely spoken a word in fear in the carriage but the suspicion had rousted you to mutter the words.

'You? I'd rather kill you right here' joked the man and his companions laughed along as if what you said was the beginnings of a hilarious joke. 'You are the Demon's vulnerability, we hurt him for revenge' He pushed you to your knees roughly.

This love is gonna be the death of me

It's a danger

'So I am to die in a field?'

'Not before you tell us everything about the Darkling' then a kick to your stomach shut down your senses.

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'We are crossing into Fjerda Moi Soverenyi' Ivan shouted over the galloping horses. Not even 2 minutes after the meeting, Fedyor noticed 3 Fjerdan delegates missing from their rooms in the Little Palace and raced to tell his General who was now fiercely riding his black stallion with a fury no one dared to comment on. He had Squallers feeling the air for you, Durasts tracking your jewelry, and Heartrenderers listening to heartbeats as they all made their way up to Fjerda, the enemy country.

As time passed, the fear rose and turned into a strange combination of denial and grief. Aleksander tried to desperately shoo it away, to rid the thought as it came. You were alive. You had to be.

He felt his crew getting restless and tired but he didn't dare slow his pace. His stallion seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and for lack of a better word, legged it as his master requested.

'General, we think we can feel something.' The Durast and Squaller riding right behind him suddenly burst out. 'About 5 miles northeast, I can direct us from there.' The man in the purple kefta bellowed and Aleksander's heart picked up the pace to a deadly rhythm. He was immortal, but he was sure this was going to be the death of him.

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It took every ounce of courage and pride to not give in but you hurt all over. Your ribs were cracked, lungs quickly collapsing, your arms and legs unmoving. The only aspect of you that looked normal was your face

'I'll leave it, let him see you dead in a coffin with only your pretty face as a reminder of how disgusting he is, how disgusting all of you are.'

You had told them nothing, not a word, not even a cry of pain to satisfy them. If these were truly your last moments, you wouldn't go down as a traitor. Your eyes closed on their own accord a while ago, your ears stopped listening when you heard the first bone crack in your leg.

You didn't see Aleksander's shadows flood the field, cutting down everything in his path. You didn’t hear the Fjerdans scream out in pain and fear. There was blood everywhere, not just yours as he ran to you.

'HEALERS NOW' you didn't see him, you didn't hear him, but he saw you beaten and dying right in front of him. His hands traced the side of your face lovingly as a small tear escaped his eye. You felt it, his touch on yours and your lip pulled up in the faintest smile you could manage. He was here.

Ivan was next to you in an instant, attempting to quicken your heartbeat, fill your weak lungs with air and keep you alive but his shaking hands were rigid and stiff with fear at the possibility of losing his friend. The other Grisha watched with perplexed faces as they quickly approached, the Healers running for dear life to get to you in time. You were only a teacher in their eyes, not the General's love or the Heartrenderers comrade.

'Y/N you'll be okay, I promise.' Aleksander left a kiss against your forehead, keeping his lips there for as long as he could before the red keftas swarmed around you and fought to save your dwindling life.

And the dark was opening wide, do or die

You registered his touch, his kiss, before the itching took over and the pain slowly lifted. The darkness was back as a comfort and death seemed far away.

The Darkling only had one weakness, one vulnerability, and only one reoccurring nightmare; the death of Y/N Y/L/N and he made sure to let the world know if you ever came to harm, he would kill anyone and anything in his path.

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Here’s my masterlist 🥰

Taglist (Tell me if you want to be added!!)

@aleksanderwh0r3 @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend @justmesadgirl

#shadow and bone #the darkling #imagine #the darkling x reader #ben barnes #grisha #alexander #alexander morozova #fanfic #alina starkov #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #kefta #series #black general #shadow summoner #aleksander morozova x reader #keftas #little palace #one shot

[ateezmakemeweep]

line without a hook.

mingi x reader; lovers to strangers au

word count: 13k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death)

you could personally never understand one’s desire to run as far away from their hometown as they could.

maybe it’s because you’ve had the privilege of growing up in a beautiful, prosperous place, with cozy winters, amazing festivals and snowfalls on the frozen lake before spring came and melted it away.

maybe it’s because you have fond memories tied back to this picturesque place, shops and restaurants surrounding the lake in a way that almost seemed too magical to really exist.

you’ve met so many different people purely because of that sight, men and women of different cultures and backgrounds always so eager to take in your hometown’s natural beauty.

fortunately for you, the lake ran right through your yard and acted as a place of solace where you could get away from everything in the busy, touristy town.

a place you went when you were feeling happy, sad, angry or when, truthfully, you didn’t know how to feel.

it’s also where you first met your boyfriend, one of the many come and go visitors, who introduced himself as mingi.

except he had walked right through your backyard like he owned the place, a small smile on his handsome face as he took in the sight of the frozen water.

he looked at it with such wonder and fascination, like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life; and you can remember that night, even with how you’re feeling right now, that he looked at you the same way.

it’s the only thing that reminds you, at some point, you two must have really loved each other.

two years ago - december 13th

you were hunched over your desk finishing the last of your final essay, only a page left before you could throw every syllabus away and rejoice at having two months of winter break.

it was a chilly night but you couldn’t help but be outside on the porch, a big warm sweater and fuzzy socks on as you read over your work so far.

you’d gotten used to the sounds of nature, the chirping of birds, pitter patter of animal feet and even the loud, slightly terrifying barks of deer.

but the footsteps crunching on the leaves in your driveway definitely weren’t those of chipmunks or rabbits, your strained neck craning over to see a tall figure walking right past your porch and deep into your backyard.

strangely enough, whether it be the frigid temperatures getting to you or the stress of finishing this paper, you weren’t panicked; the man technically wasn’t even on your property, he was right outside of it along the grass that turned to decking.

so you continued to make revisions and edit your paper silently, your eyes fluttering up ever so often to check on the mysterious, tall figure. his shoulders were broad and his hair was messy, that much you could tell from your spot on the porch.

when five minutes past, then ten, then twenty, and he had still yet to move or realize he was in someone’s yard, you decided to investigate - because one, how long could he really stare at this frozen mass of water and two, your head was pounding from looking at this stupid document.

so without an ounce of fear or hesitation, you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body and made your way down to the man.

your slippers were loose so the last remaining bits of snow were seeping into your socks, a slight grimace on your face when the coldness touched your skin.

the sound of crunching snow caused him to turn around, his lips quirking up into a small smile when you came into view.

it was when you got closer that you saw just how attractive he was, pale skin that glowed, plump lips that were slightly chapped and messy hair that looked even better up close.

he looked different than most locals and tourists around here, many of them pastel wearing men who wouldn’t dare stick an earring in their skin.

but the man in front of you had a completely different vibe, earrings and chains and a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest despite the freezing temperatures tonight.

a few minutes of silence pass, neither him nor you concerned about filling it; it seemed as if he could’ve stared at the lake just as long as you could’ve wondered why the hell he liked it so much.

“aren’t you cold?”

more silence passed and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear your blurted out question.

but then you discover he did when he looked at you with a smirk, the snow crackling underneath him as he shifts to take in your big sweater and pink slippers.

“no.”

it’s a short and simple response but his voice is somehow incredibly warm, looking at you with a twinge of soft light in his eyes before he opens his mouth again.

“why? are you?”

a confused smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head, looking over his bare (muscular) arms conspicuously.

“no. but i’m not wearing a t-shirt in december.”

he sends a smile your way, his large body turning allowing you to fully take in just how big he is. you feel incredibly small next to him and it should probably make you nervous - a large, stranger unwelcomed in your yard and staring down at you.

but there’s a weird sense of tranquility over both of you in this moment, the moon shining off the frozen lake as his gaze meets yours.

“well that’s a good thing,” he hums, your eyebrow quirking up before he continues. “because i don’t have a jacket to give you.”

a surprised chuckle leaves your mouth that has a smile spreading across your face and he feels his own doing the same at the sight of it.

“what makes you think i’d take a jacket from a stranger?”

his eyebrow raises after a few seconds of pondering the rhetorical question, his large hand suddenly coming between your bodies.

“my name’s mingi. i’m staying a few houses over at my aunt’s for the holidays.”

your lips purse together as you wrack your brain for which neighbor it could possibly be, remembering that the woman who brought you left over lasagna for thanksgiving mentioned her nephew was coming for christmas and new years.

she didn’t mention that her nephew looked like this or that he went onto the property of anyone he pleased.

“i’m y/n,” you say, taking your smaller hand in his cold one before a teasing smiles crosses your face. “and we’re actually standing in my backyard. so thank you for trespassing so politely, mingi.”

his eyes widen as an embarrassed look crosses his face, the small hint of pink on his cheeks just as endearing as it is humorous.

“i- i’m so sorry, oh, my god,” he chuckles out, your cold hands still intertwined. “my aunt said i could take the first road i saw to get to the lake. that there was a better view down here than from her house.”

and you can see in his eyes the exact moment his next sentence came into his mind, like he thought it was gonna be the smoothest and coolest thing he’d ever said.

“and it looks like she was right.”

the loud laugh that bubbles out of you is uncontrollable, mingi’s quickly following as his cheeks turn even more pink.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles sheepishly, sounding completely unapologetic as he finally pulls his hand away from yours; you try not to think about how much colder your hand feels now, quickly sticking it in the pocket of your sweater to compensate.

“right,” you quip, a tiny giggle leaving you as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. “but really, you should probably get a jacket if you’re gonna be out here a lot. you don’t wanna get sick and it can get pretty cold here.”

“will do,” he hums, his eyes roaming yours and making your heart jump in your chest; he really is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.

there’s a few beats of silence as he cranes his neck to look out at the lake, eyes roaming what seems like every piece of frozen ice and snowy tree surrounding it.

“my aunt actually told me people sometimes skate on it.”

“yeah,” you confirm with a nod, taking the time to look at the beauty you take for granted every day. “it’s thick enough this year. sometime we’re not allowed.”

“cool,” he says with a smile, a slight shiver running through him that makes you frown. “so... can i come back here to do that?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and soft as he looks at you. “or should i use the real path?”

your eyebrows pull together at his question, confusion covering your face but only meeting his cocky, playful one.

“are you asking if we can skate together?”

he bites down on his lip so he doesn’t smile larger, his tongue peeking out just before his teeth make contact.

“yeah,” he hums lowly, the deep tone of his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. “i guess i am.”

your lips quirk to the side as you weigh out the pros and cons.

you’re on your own a lot and definitely miss talking to someone.

he’s attractive and funny and seemingly nice enough.

you know his aunt and can easily confirm his story, the chances of him being a murderer who moseyed into town considerably low.

the only con you can think of is falling on your ass in front of him and even that it isn’t such a deal breaker.

so you smile at him and nod your head, a melodic “okay,” leaving your mouth that has him smiling back at you just as sweetly.

present day:

you knew going to this dinner with mingi was gonna end in disaster.

you were both too on edge after your fight this morning, past the point of screaming and yelling for hours that, now, you’ll exchange a few harsh words at each other before falling silent.

you’ve learned that the tense silence after a fight is worse than screaming and yelling.

at least with that, it seems as if there’s still some passion there. there’s words being exchanged and feelings coming to the surface that both people feel motivated enough to express.

but with the silence, you’re both bottling it up.

deeming it useless and letting it brew and brew and brew until one of you goes completely over the edge - and more often than not, that person is him.

the car ride over is no better, not even the radio playing to distract you both from the building tension in the air.

your friends know immediately that something is up, yunho eyeing mingi and san eyeing you; yunho, san, seonghwa, and wooyoung had been your friends since elementary school.

you’d been through a lot with them and have seen each other at all your highs and lows.

throughout your two-year relationship with mingi, him and yunho had grown especially close and it was sweet to see; you knew it was important for mingi to have another friend in a place he didn’t grow up in and you were genuinely happy they created a great friendship.

“hey guys!” wooyoung chirped happily, already chowing down on the chips and salsa in the middle of the table. “how is everyone?”

and like he’s almost oblivious to the tension in the room, mingi only mumbles a grumbled “fine,” before he starts happily babbling again. you try a little harder to put up on a happy front, giving wooyoung a small smile as you talk to him about your last semester of school.

as the dinner goes on, appetizers turning to meals and meals turning to alcohol, mingi downs sangria after sangria before he becomes a lot more chatty.

“oh, shit, there he is,” wooyoung smiles happily, a drunken flush to his face as he pokes his arm playfully. “you were scaring me for a hot second. looking all pissed off and shit.”

“that’s because i was pissed off. still am, if i’m being honest, woo,” mingi says, a conniving hint in his tone as he finishes the last of his drink.

your eyes immediately move to him and you’re quick to narrow them, hoping and praying he doesn’t start round two in this public restaurant right now; but apparently, that’s exactly what he plans on doing.

“what’s with the face, y/n?”

mingi spits your name out like it’s the last thing he wants to say, a quietly snapped “nothing,” leaving your mouth.

san and yunho look to each other immediately, concern on both their faces as they feel the tension start creeping back up.

they knew something was wrong the second you both came in, have known things have been off between you two for months, and it was even more obvious when you immediately took the seats a few spots away from each other.

“nothing?” he asks, his voice deep and gravely due to his anger and the alcohol. “because it sure looks like you wanna say something.”

“i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“you never do, do you, babe?” he asks, his humorless laugh and vindictive tone making your skin prickle.

“did you even miss me?”

your eyes meet his from across the table when he finally speaks, your eyebrow raising as you two stare at each other blankly.

he had left two nights ago after telling you he needed space, not hearing a word from him until he came barreling through the door just a few moments ago at seven a.m.

you’d just gotten up to make yourself coffee, plagued with worry and upset over your fight and his lack of communication.

“maybe if you looked at your phone, you’d know.”

because how could he think you wouldn’t miss him? how could he think you’re actually okay with him leaving after every fight? not hearing from him for a day or two while you stay in this apartment and let your mind go off into every worst case scenario.

a humorless laugh can only leave him as he shakes his head.

“of course you’re putting the blame back on me. i just can’t make you happy, can i, y/n?”

“you staying after a fight would make me happy. but of course, you can’t do that for me, can you?”

he doesn’t say anything and instead just clenches his jaw painfully tight.

you watch it tick dangerously and instead of feeling anger or sadness, you just feel utterly defeated; you don’t know how many times you guys have had this exact conversation.

a fight will happen.

he yells, you cry.

you just want him to see your tears and obvious pain and stop the yelling.

hold you and kiss your hair and mumble that you guys are gonna figure this out and get passed it.

he leaves, you stay silent.

he just wants you to fight for him a little.

call him out on his shit and prove to his insecure self that you still love and care for him, even though he’s a dick. ask him to please stay because he wants to figure this out and get passed it.

but then he comes back and you’re both okay for a bit, just for the cycle to repeat itself over and over.

“is that why you leave, mingi?” you speak again, looking at him curiously as you shake your head. 

“make me sit here and worry about you for days, while you purposely ignore me, just so i can tell you i miss you? is that what you want?”

the words are on the tip of his tongue. that yes, that’s exactly what he wants from you.

but the words are also on the tip of your tongue. that you want his first instinct to be to stay. to stay here and talk things out with you before immediately jumping up to flee.

he wants you to tell him you miss him but you want him to tell you he loves you, that he loves you enough to stay when you guys fight; but right now, neither of you are even sure if that’s true anymore.

“i don’t know about y/n, you guys,” mingi says suddenly at dinner, the drunken slur to his voice evident to everyone. “i love her but sometimes.... i think i actually fucking hate her.”

you feel your heart sink when those words leave his mouth, your face dropping just as the boys call out his name roughly.

“mingi, what the fuck,” san growls from across the table; but the boy is completely unbothered, shrugging his broad shoulders as he looks directly at you.

“how ‘bout you, babe? how do you feel about me?” he asks, leaned back against his chair like he’s completely calm, cool and collected.

“i’m not having this discussion with you right now.”

“you never want to have this discussion,” he mocks, the anger and rage in his eyes only making your blood boil even more. 

“i’m getting tired of it, y/n. i’m getting tired of all this shit.”

his voice is raising and you’re becoming increasingly embarrassed, knowing that the last place for this blowout fight is in front of your friends in a public setting.

“mingi, this really isn’t the place to-”

“shut up, yunho, we’re gonna finally-”

but you’re not intending on doing anything, already feeling humiliated and belittled as you get up from your seat and walk toward the door.

you leave your bag and jacket so the boys know you’re not leaving, hoping and praying that your drunk asshole of a boyfriend follows you outside; and sure enough, two minutes later, you smell his familiar cologne when the door opens.

neither of you say anything for the first few seconds, him leaned against the wall and you facing him with your hands on your hips.

“what’s your problem?”

it’s the first thing you think to ask, looking at him with such concern and defeat in your eyes. 

you hope he can see it but you’re sure he can’t, far too absorbed in whatever he’s been going through for the past few months to notice.

“i don’t have a problem.”

“you obviously do,” you snap, your voice raising as you take a step closer to him.

“you just embarrassed me in front of everyone and you’re acting like a fucking child. we could’ve had this conversation at the house instead of not speaking for days.”

“why? so you could just turn shit around on me or ignore what i’m saying?” he snaps back, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you. “maybe we need an outside source to listen.”

“not our friends, mingi, and not at a public dinner when you’re getting drunk.”

“you always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snaps, his jaw clenching and eyes flaring as he continues to peer down at you.

“and it’s always on me. when we tried to talk this morning, you blew me off, too, y/n. it’s like you don’t ever wanna have this discussion.”

“because i don’t know what you want me to say, mingi. how many times do i have to repeat myself and tell you i don’t know what you want from me?”

“have you ever thought that maybe that’s the fucking problem, y/n? that after all of this, you still don’t know what i want from you? are you fucking stupid?”

“are you fucking stupid?” you yell back, the suppressed anger and rage you knew was brewing boiling over right here and now.

“you want me to tell you that i miss you when you leave every other week, mingi? why would i tell someone that who could give a shit? i could tell you i miss you or that i’ll miss you and you’ll still fucking leave me.”

“how do you know?” he snaps, “you’ve never tried!”

“i’ve never tried?” you yelp, tears of frustration burning your eyes as you look at him.

“what’s me texting you when you leave like a little bitch every single time? or me obviously worrying when you pull that stupid shit over and over? i’ve been trying mingi and you don’t care! you leave me crying alone every single time!”

he meets your gaze with fire in his eyes and you can only stare back with tears in yours, waiting for him to scream something before he decides to kick over the metal garbage can a few feet away from you.

you watch as it clatters against the side walk, a loud, deep “fuck!” leaving him as you watch him blankly. his chest is heaving and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself right now but you also don’t know anymore.

because you’re shaking inside and out and feel like you wanna throw up, knowing that right now you both look like the worst type of couple; but it’s nothing compared to how you feel, how even though you don’t want to, you can’t stop yourself from acting out on these negative feelings.

“and if i never try, mingi, then just leave again,” you say, tears blurring your vision and a lump growing in your throat. “you can stay and come home with me tonight. or you can leave. at this point, i’m too tired to care.”

you weren’t surprised to go home alone that night.

watch as seonghwa and yunho helped your boyfriend to their car and promised that he’d be back in a few days; you were only able to sleep soundly that night because you knew he was safe with them.

but it didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep that night, the night after that and the night after that for the next week; the same would’ve probably happened the next night, too, at least for a little bit, had you not heard your front door open just after midnight.

you were getting in one last episode of your drama when mingi returned home, craning your neck back to see him lazily kicking off his shoes at the front door.

his head looked up to meet your gaze, the glow of the tv hitting him just enough to tell you he looked like shit.

he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled messily, like he hadn’t washed it since you last saw him. his face was sunken and pale as if he’d been away in the wild for months opposed to his friend’s house for just a little over a week.

but when he’s away from you, this is what happens each and every time - he can’t sleep or eat or function properly.

he’s only plagued with the thought of you, memories running through his mind or constantly wondering what you’re doing. if you’re safe and feeling okay or if something bad is gonna happen to you because he’s not there.

the couch dips next to you before you feel his skin graze yours, a quietly mumbled “hey,” like he just came in from work casually spoken through the air.

you crane your neck up at him to look in his sunken eyes, an uncontrollable frown on your face as you swipe your finger across his purple skin.

it’s the softest touch he’s received in a week and he’s missed it more than he cares to admit. shutting his eyes and smiling slightly when he hears you mumble “hi” back.

you bask in each other’s comfort and warmth for the rest of the episode in silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wound tightly around you until the tv screen falls black.

you two walk into bed and he pulls you down with him, your head falling to his chest and his hands in your hair. you moan against him sleepily and it’s a sound he’s missed so dearly, tightening his hold on you as he feels his body immediately relax.

you’re both completely comfortable and at ease, days of worrying finally calmed as you’re beside one another again.

but even with this comfort, even with the familiar feel of each other’s skin and warmth soothing both of you, you know it won’t be enough.

because you still don’t say you missed him and he still doesn’t tell you he loves you.

a year and 11 months ago - january 10th

you weren’t sure if it was possible to fall in love in less than a month but it really felt as if you and mingi did.

from the moment you saw him two days after your initial meeting, skating together and braving the frozen lake together, your connection was immediate.

you’d spent everyday with each other, frolicking through the town in the afternoon before going back to your house at night.

you usually spent it cuddled up on the couch or making food in your kitchen, his arms wrapping around your waist before tossing you up on the counter playfully.

“you didn’t strike me as a chef,” you tell him, watching him stir a pot of noodles with a content look on his face.

“well, i didn’t strike you as a rapper either,” he says, a smirk on his face as a giggle leaves your mouth.

you learned that mingi was an aspiring rapper, him and his friend hongjoong trying to get their foot in the door for the past year. you listened to a few of their songs and even got a live performance from him, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you watched him.

in a fit of absolute astonishment, because you didn’t think mingi could get any more attractive, you blurted out that he didn’t seem like a rapper. that his personality was too “cute and charming” despite the deep growl to his raps and voice.

“i told you just personality wise,” you whine with a pout, reaching your hand out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “but appearance wise, absolutely. you’re very tough. very cool looking. i’m scared of you.”

“you’re making this a lot worse for yourself, baby,” he hums lowly, another giggle leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lip.

“did your friend hear back from that producer yet?” you ask him curiously, your legs criss-crossed as you sit on the counter and peer up at him.

he looks over to see you staring at him all wide-eyed and interested, a soft, happy glint in your gaze that makes his heart pull in his chest.

he hasn’t even known you for a month but he’s never been this happy before.

he’s never had anyone be there for him the way you’ve been, dedicating their time to him and being so actively interested and supportive of his decisions; it also doesn’t help that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both inside and out, that made him extend his trip a week longer.

he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to you yet and he’s still not sure if he can; he’s grown incredibly attached to you and it’s something he’s never felt before.

something all consuming and magical that’s making him incredibly vulnerable.

“not yet,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming your face.

your eyebrows pull together when you notice the way he’s looking at you, soft and sweet with a fondness that makes your heart flutter dangerously.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

a smile crosses his face as he lowers the heat on the stove, caging your body in and cocking his head to the side. he bites down on his lip when he sees your eyes widen, a large hand coming up to push pieces of hair out of your face.

“because i’m happy i met you.”

a small, touched smile pulls at your lips as you peer up at him, raising your own hand to smooth out the chain around his neck.

your fingers brush against his warm skin and it’s like there’s electricity coursing through both of you, your bodies close and hot breath wafting together.

“i’m happy i met you too, mingi.”

his heart soars at the way you say his name, eyes falling to your lips as he presses himself closer to you. you push yourself against the cabinets, swallowing the lump in your throat when you follow his gaze.

your tongue peeks out to lick over them unconsciously, your own eyes falling to his lips. you feel your stomach swoop dangerously, wanting so badly to feel them on yours - they’re one of the first things you noticed about him.

“y/n?”

“hm?” you hum, your eyes lingering on his mouth before hazily meeting his eyes; and there you see it, the soft intensity you’ve yet to grow used to.

you’ve seen this look from him more times than you can remember despite the short time you’ve known each other.

on the lake when you two were skating, grasping each other’s hands and giggling as you tried to keep yourselves from falling back.

in town when your hands bumped and you’d stop dead in your tracks to look at each other, completely unaware of the people around you giving each other knowing looks.

on the couch when you’d allow your head to rest on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him because the weather is really cold for january and you need body heat.

but it’s never been as strong as it now.

your heart’s never been beating this fast and you haven’t been able to feel his own pounding against his chest. probably because he was nervous to ask-

“can i kiss you?”

neither of you can remember what happened after he uttered those words.

just that one minute, he said it and the next, your mouths were connected. parting on one another’s as he completely caged your body with his.

your arms wound around his neck and he hummed contently against your mouth, slipping his tongue in when you started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

he had half the mind to turn off the stove before carrying you to the couch, your legs wound tightly around his waist as every hint of desire and want overtook you.

he plopped himself down as you situated yourself on his lap, lips never disconnecting. you moaned against him when you felt his body underneath yours, tongues colliding and mouths pulled into smiles.

his hands gripped onto your hips gently, pulling your body closer to his as your kisses grew hungrier and more intense.

you finally pulled apart for air with heaving chests and red, puffy lips, your eyes meeting and every hint of vulnerability and longing in them.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he finally says softly, almost whispering it in fear that someone else would hear.

but this house is empty. it always is and it has been for quite some time.

until you met him and he completely changed your life.

now there were two pairs of shoes at the door and two empty cups in the sink. there was someone to talk to and someone to be in the silence with.

because you’ve learned over this past month that even a silence with someone else is way better than the silence of being alone.

“me... me too,” you admit shyly, a warm blush creeping up on your face. “i’m... really, really happy you’re here, mingi.”

his eyes widen when he sees tears well up in your eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown as he brings his hands to your face.

but you only shake your head before he can comment on it, placing your hand atop his before connecting your lips again.

he meets the kiss with the fervor you need, everything about it soft and sweet and passionate. like you guys know time is running out and you need to fit it all in.

“that producer got back to me and wants to meet in person so you’ll be home next week, yeah?” hongjoong asked mingi over the phone, the boy laid out on his bed a few days later.

he can only keep replaying the memory of you in his mind, the tone of your voice and the teary look in your eye when you told him how happy you were that he’s been here.

there was a certain type of sadness behind you that he hasn’t been able to shake, making it incredibly hard for him to pick a day to just pack up his car and go.

“i... uh. i don’t know, yet.”

“what?” hongjoong asked.

him and mingi had been waiting to meet producers for months, getting either put on a list or straight up rejected. and now when they have a chance, “you don’t know yet?”

mingi licks over his lips as he hears the disbelief in his friend’s voice, knowing that hongjoong won’t be able to believe this. they’ve been waiting for this moment ever since they were in high school and had the dream of rapping as a duo.

he was only supposed to be here for a few days and now it was almost a month. what could possibly be keeping him there? what could possibly have made mingi-

“what could you possibly not know, mingi? we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. you even extended your trip for a bullshit reason thinking i’d really buy it.”

“okay but my aunt really did need help around the house...” he mumbles because yes, she needed help around the house as she redid her bathroom but she was quick to hire professionals so, technically not a lie.

“so what, what’s your excuse this time? did you meet some chick?”

there’s a silence that stretches over the phone for what feels like hours, mingi attempting to find any words before hongjoong lets out a loud groan.

“a girl? mingi, are you fucking kidding me?”

“i really like her, hongjoong,” mingi tells his friend, a sweet genuineness and innocence in his deep tone. “i really, really like her and i... i don’t think i can leave her yet.”

he reluctantly opens up to hongjoong about you, telling him that you’re in school and live alone in this quiet little lake town. that you and him have been spending every second together and he’s never felt this way about anyone before.

“i’m happy for you, man, i really am,” hongjoong says, never having heard his friend talk like this before. “but i mean... is she worth changing your plans? what the hell is there for you?”

he wants to say that you. you’re there.

the girl he’s known for less than a month but has gotten him so tight around her finger - and once he leaves, will still be here.

except she’ll be within the walls of her house all alone again, in a town based off people coming and going where she’s never seemed to have a stable relationship with anyone.

where she now knows what it’s like to spend every day with someone and look forward to their company every morning and night. spend hours talking until the sun rises and sleep until it’s dark out.

“i wouldn’t be changing my plans that much. i still have our music, hongjoong. we can still do shit even if i live here.”

“live there?!? hongjoong blurts out, “you’ve been there for a less than a month, dude, that’s fucking crazy. you’ve barely know her and you’re gonna move there?”

“i can’t leave her.”

he didn’t think at the time that it was crazy. he didn’t think he’d ever come to regret that decision because, at the time, he really couldn’t imagine leaving you.

he couldn’t picture himself hugging you goodbye and telling you that you’d keep in touch via texting and facetime.

he couldn’t picture going back home with a genuine smile on his face when it felt as if he left behind something, someone, would could make him the happiest he’s ever felt.

he couldn’t picture that he’d ever come to resent you because when he told you he was gonna consider staying in town longer, a bit more permanently, the smile that lit up your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“really?” you smile, jumping up from your spot on the couch and running over to him.

you’re so smiley and happy and bouncy until you’re not, your face dropping ever so slightly when you look over his face.

“but wait... what about the producer? did he ever answer?”

“he did. hongjoong’s meeting with him tomorrow.”

your eyes widen at the news but he’s quick to cut you off, bend down and press a long, lingering kiss to your lips before scooping you up into his arms.

“but i told him there was something better for me here.”

present day:

he wasn’t sure when the resentment started.

he just knew that, one minute he loved you, and the next, he started to question everything.

it could’ve been from seeing hongjoong’s success, album after album and talk of him all over social media right in his face every day.

it could’ve been his lack of success, pursuing a music degree via online school while still keeping up with his previously established career as a rapper; it was enough to get the bills paid and keep his name lingering around but that’s all it was now.

it could’ve been that all of his passion was gone and he blamed you for that; because if it weren’t for you, he’d be with hongjoong now. he’d be making money and feeling inspired and at the peak of his creativity and motivation.

but he loves you, right? he loves you more than he’s loved anyone in the world and he made the right decision.

“sometimes i question if i made the right decision.”

it was a relativity quiet night for you and mingi, the past few days calm and uneventful, so you knew a fight was bound to happen soon.

and with that statement, it seemed as if the night was quickly headed in that direction.

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your textbook.

he was sat on the love seat opposite you, computer in his lap and a beer on the side table as he watched you. he’d been wordlessly watching you all night and you hadn’t been sure what to make of it.

now, you can see, he might’ve been watching you with disdain.

“i mean i sometimes wonder if i made the right decision in staying here. just... so quickly not accepting that producer’s offer with hongjoong’s.”

his words hurt you more than you let on, your stomach sinking and knotting as you let his words sink in.

you had asked him for weeks after he made that decision if he was sure.

if something he worked so hard on and something he looked forward to for so long was something was worth giving up.

and anytime you asked, he’d say the same thing.

“you’re worth it.”

you wonder now if he said it so many times to qualm your ever present worries or to convince himself. tell himself over and over again that, yes this girl is worth staying here and no, i won’t come to resent her.

it’s something you worried about in the beginning but faded with time.

because your love grew stronger and you both became more secure. your relationship was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced.

but not now.

now it’s a fucking disaster.  

“where did that even come from?”

you can hear to your own ears how shaky and unsure your voice sounds. it’s filling you with as much shame as it does embarrassment, knowing that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend openly and honestly.

without feeling upset, like you know you have to walk on eggshells or can’t express how much he’s been hurting you.

“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking,” he hums, taking a swig of his beer as he adjusts himself on the couch.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, only humming lowly as you nod your head.

you lick over your lips as you look back down uncomfortably, blankly staring at the words of your textbook. your brain can’t absorb any of the terms or phrases on the page, the sinking, awful feeling in your stomach taking over.

you can’t even remember how long you’ve felt like this.

when butterflies turned to this gut wrenching, awful feeling.

like the feeling before a plane takes off or you have a presentation to do or when the one person you’ve loved in this world has decided they don’t want you anymore.

“i stayed for you.”

the words you feared hearing pierce the air and you hold back a shaky breath, biting the inside of your cheek so harshly you’re hit with the metallic taste blood.

you look up and see his eyes narrowed in on you, tears burning the back of yours as you beg them not to fall.

because you can’t keep crying in front of him just for him to ignore you. to just watch you lose it with a blank look in his eyes, instead of holding you or attempting to soothe you.

“i couldn’t leave you alone in your house,” he begins, like the words he’s rationalizing in his head are coming out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“i wasn’t ready to leave you yet and i didn’t even think twice about how i would feel in the future. because i was so fucking consumed by you, y/n.”

there’s an obvious and palpable pain in his voice and it makes your gut wrench even more; you hate that he’s in pain but you’re in pain, too. you were in pain before him and now you’re in pain because of him.

“i’m still consumed by you but i feel...angry now. i feel so fucking angry, y/n, and i don’t know why. i don’t know if i’m mad at you or myself but i know i stayed for you. if i never met you, i never would’ve stayed here and now i feel like i’m stuck.”

“but i never asked you to stay, mingi,” you whimper out, the tears quickly coming to the surface.

they’re a mix of sadness and frustration, because it hurts so much hearing this, the obvious regret in his words, but it also makes you mad - that was his choice and his choice alone.

and it’s like he knows that too. because he doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to stare at you with a look in his eye that breaks your heart.

“i asked you so many times if you were okay with doing that,” you begin after moments of silence, your teary, wet gaze meeting his. “i asked you again and again because i knew you’d come to regret it.”

“i’m not saying i regret it, i’m just saying i-”

“you’re saying you stayed here for me like it’s my fault,” you say, shaking your head as tears leak from your eyes and down your cheek. “like i asked you to and like meeting me was your downfall. but i never told you to and i would’ve never ever expected you to.”

“what, so i was just supposed to leave you alone?” mingi growls lowly, emotion behind his tone that’s almost masked by the brashness.

he can’t help but feel all of this coming up, all of these feelings he’s been going through these past months and making him a completely different person.

“why would i have left you when i knew i loved you?”

neither of you focused on loved being past tense, probably because it’s a fact both of you know by now.

“i didn’t want anything else but you in that moment.”

“do you want a prize, mingi?” you snap, every defensive and defeated emotion coursing through your veins.

“you could’ve left me alone. you could’ve just left the way you wished you did so fucking badly. you would’ve saved yourself all of this obvious regret.”

“you think i regret staying with you?” he asks, his voice low and deep as he rises from the chair.

his frame is tall and broad and looming as he walks closer to you, standing over your chair as you sit there and stare up at him. his eyes roam your face and he follows the few tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands stiffly hanging at his sides.

he used to hate seeing you cry.

it used to make him wanna destroy whatever was hurting you. he used to kiss your tears away and wouldn’t let you leave his arms until you were smiling and laughing again.

“well, what do you call this?” you whimper quietly, sniffling and stuffy and feeling small tears stream down your face.

“you basically said if it weren’t for me, you’d be happier with your life. and i... i was so happy when you decided to stay, mingi, i’m not gonna lie to you. i was so happy because i knew we would love each other so much,” you whimper out, the knot in your throat making it difficult to speak.

“but i also knew that one day, you would probably regret it and resent me. it’s why i asked you over and over and over again. because i was so scared this was gonna happen.”

his mouth grows dry as he licks over his lips, a burning behind his eyes as he hears your voice break. he’s quick to shake his head and blink away the tears, though, because he knows if he starts crying, he’s never gonna stop.

“i thought you would leave with me eventually,” he’s finally able to get out, his throat clogged and voice gruff as he voices his innermost thoughts and wishes.

you compromised for him once, why wouldn’t you do it again?

“i thought if you actually loved me the way you claimed to, you’d be able to go.”

“well, i was always honest with you about that too,” you murmur, feeling utterly defeated and guilty as you meet mingi’s glossy eyes. “you know i never intend on leaving.”

a year and 5 months ago - june 19th

he learned about your parents accident on the 4th year anniversary of their death.

he had noticed that week you were especially gloomy, a sad look in your eye and the fake smile on your face making him cling to you just a bit more than usual.

and apparently, you had noticed too.

“mingi, are you okay?”

the words were muffled against his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as the two of you lay on the couch. his hand had been running up and down your back gently all night, like he’d been trying to calm you without any words.

like he knew there was something wrong, even though you hadn’t said a word.

his eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing his fingers under your chin. he lifts your face as his eyes search yours, that sad look behind them masked by a soft curiosity.

you’re trying to hide your pain because you think he’s hurting and that alone only makes him even more sad.

“of course i am, baby. but are you okay?”

you can’t find it in you to say yes so you only nod shyly, a small smile gracing your face as you look at him.

his eyes are full of such warmth and love that it makes tears prick behind your eyes, dropping your gaze quickly as you bury your face back in his chest.

the movement causes him to swallow nervously, adams apple bobbing as he presses his lips to the top of your head.

he knows something’s wrong. he knows something’s very wrong but he doesn’t know what happened or what’s brought this on.

“you can tell me anything,” he mumbles against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. “you know that, right?”

because he also noticed that you started seeming off when he mentioned moving in together, looking at apartments in town for himself before getting the idea to live with you.

you guys are already together all the time, it only made sense for you two to live together as well.

but he could tell immediately the idea unsettled you, you clutching desperately on to him as you muttered that you’d think about it.

at first, he would’ve assumed you didn’t wanna go that far with him. that it was too serious a commitment and you were completely uncomfortable with that.

but it was the way you were clinging to him, burying your face in his chest like you were begging him not to leave you that made him realize something deeper was going.

it’s why he dropped it at first. looked for apartments on his own with the idea that, best case scenario, you’d move in with him too.

could that be what’s wrong right now? you dealing with moving in with him and fears coming from that? or something else entirely?

he just knows that when he starts to hear you cry quietly into his chest, he needs to know what’s been wrong because he hates seeing you like this.

“hey, hey, hey,” his deep voice mumbles, large hands pulling you from his chest and wiping at your face. “what happened, baby? what’s wrong?”

and since you started crying about this, remembering the day and the circumstances around it so well, you won’t be able to stop. you can only continue to cry into him, tiny sobs wracking your body as you clutched onto him tightly.

“i... i can’t.”

you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t sure.

that’s why he shook his head and pulled you back into his chest, the warm safe place you’ve come to know so well and usually calmed you whenever you needed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong but i promise you’ll be okay,” you hear him mumble against your head, his hand running up and down your back gently. “i’ll try to help you in any way i can, baby, but i’m gonna need to know what’s wrong.”

but he can’t help you bring back your dead parents.

he can’t help you time travel the way you so desperately wish you could to tell yourself not to go on that senior trip.

that if you didn’t go, your parents never would’ve driven you to the airport and they never would’ve gotten in the car accident that took their life on the way back.

you’d spent a week in a foreign country while they spent a week in the hospital, your aunt and grandparents dealing with the repercussions before you came back and said your goodbyes in a dingy, hospital room.

mingi doesn’t know how long you both sat there in silence, your cries muffled against his chest and his arms wound tightly around you.

he loosened his hold immediately when he felt you try to pull away, watching as you stared at him, wiped your eyes and told him everything.

“my parents died four years ago, today.”

he watches with soft, sympathetic eyes and a breaking heart as you tell him about your guilt.

how if you just decided to stay home after weeks of begging them to go, they’d still be here.

“they didn’t have the money but i begged them for weeks, mingi,” you tell him, tears in your eyes and voice thick with emotion. 

“i wanted to go so badly because all my friends were going and i was too selfish to see they really couldn’t afford it.”

he can tell you’re not done talking so he only presses his lips together and grasps your hand tightly. squeezes it reassuringly as his thumb gently rubs back and forth against your skin.

“they both worked overtime for two weeks straight and gave me the money the last day it was due. and i barely thanked them,” you remember, the scene you’ve replayed in your mind hundreds of times flashing yet again.

you jumped up from the couch and snatched the money from their hands, throwing your arms around them in a quick hug before screaming your thanks and running up to your room to tell your friends.

“a drunk diver hit them on their way home from the airport and the doctors couldn’t believe they both didn’t die on impact. a-and no one in my family could even call me so i said my goodbyes when i got home, in the hospital.”

you look to mingi with tears streaming down your cheeks and you see wetness in his own eyes, his hand grasping onto yours tight.

“i couldn’t even talk to them one last time. or hear their voices. i don’t even know if they heard me.”

your voice breaks off after that, not being able to handle recounting this after years of staying silent about it; he’s the first person you’ve talked to about this besides the counselor you saw a few months after their death.

he pulls you in his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth as he presses his lips to your head.

your eyes are closed tight as you focus on his breathing and soft murmurs. his deep, full voice muttering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances.

that your parents did hear you and they loved you till the end.

that it was no one’s fault but the driver who decided to get in a car after getting drunk.

that you shouldn’t put any blame on yourself, because your parents would want you to be happy and thriving.

“i know but it’s just hard,” you tell him, you teary face pulling away from his wet chest.

you look around the living room full of books and wooden furniture, a family portrait hung above a cluttered-filled desk; it was taken when you were ten and you remember hating that day because you had to wear an uncomfortable dress and tights.

“i don’t know how i’m ever gonna leave this place,” you voice aloud to him, one of the many concerns that muddled your mind when you started deciding on college or jobs or moving in with your perfect boyfriend of almost a year.

“it’s the last thing i have of them. i don’t... i don’t know if i’d be ever to leave this place, mingi.”

not after what happened last time.

not wanting to leave the house you grew up in to strangers who would create more happy memories and replace the ones you made with your own parents.

his face contorts into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking as the obvious guilt and dread is in your eyes.

he’d always seen a bit of torment behind them but you were always able to smile.

laugh with him and tease him and push whatever demons he knew you had aside; but he started seeing it again when he mentioned moving in, fear and anxiety and discomfort that he hated to even see behind your eyes.

“i don’t know how that will effect us, it’s something i’ve thought about a lot recently,” you confess quietly, playing with the edge of the blanket nervously. “especially when you mentioned us moving in together. i... i want to, so bad, because i love you and i think it’d be fun. but... i can’t leave.”

your tears start up again and a frown crosses mingi’s face, his body hovering over yours as he takes your face in his big hands.

he wipes at the tears threatening to slide down your cheeks before placing his lips on your head, breathing slowly and calmly against you as his warm breath wafts over you.

“baby, i understand completely, i really do,” he says, everything making sense now but... “but i don’t think your parents would want you to... limit your life like this.”

because you obviously had an interest in seeing the world. you obviously wanted to see different places and cultures and sights in the world that even your precious little town doesn’t hold.

but he can see tonight isn’t the night you’re gonna see that, if the way you shake your head and bury yourself back in his chest doesn’t show that.

and because he loved you more than anything else in the world, he understood it. held you and kissed you and made sure you knew he’d be by your side in whatever way you needed.

it was with his patience and love and unconditional support that you were able to live with him. keep your parents house as a sense of security but slowly move yourself out of it.

leaving a toothbrush at the apartment, a few sets of clothes, some shampoos and soaps until one night, you were waking up and falling asleep with him every morning and night.

present day:

the fight that ended you and mingi was over a trip to disney.

something meant to be so childish and fun and innocent morphing into a blowout, gut-wrenching fight that left the two of distraught.

hit both of you with the realization that whatever you once had had fizzled out and turned so horribly toxic, you were both losing yourselves.

it had started with yunho, san and wooyoung planning the trip, mingi over their house one day after the tension in the apartment got too much. he had scoffed when san mentioned it at first, wondering what business they had as college going twenty-somethings booking a trip to disney.

“it’ll be sweet!” san said, “we could go to the parks for a few days, everyone loves roller coasters! and then we can drive down to the beach, go surfing and go to bars and shit. it’d be so much fun, guys.”

and the more all of them thought about it, the more excited they got. looking at flights and car rentals and getting all their swim suits in order - that was until mingi came back home a day later and informed you of these plans.

“me and the guys were talking about booking a trip to disney,” was the first thing he said to you. not a hello or how are you or sorry for leaving and making you worry for a week.

“oh?” you hummed quietly, looking up from your spot at the kitchen sink; you’d made breakfast for two just in case he came home early but it was another serving of eggs and bacon in the trash.

“yeah, so is that something you’d wanna do?”

there’s something off about his tone that you immediately pick up on. snippy and on edge and defensive, like he’s already fully prepared to break out into a fight.

because he already knows you won’t do it. you won’t leave the 70 mile radius you’ve trapped yourself nor will you even try to go out of your comfort zone for him and you or anyone else.

and quite frankly, he’s grown really fucking sick of it. call him selfish or call him someone looking out for you, someone who knows this type of living isn’t normal, he can’t deal with it anymore.

“i... well i mean...how would we get there? and when?”

“we were looking at flights three weeks from now,” he says, carefully observing your face with slightly cold eyes. carefully waiting for the next hint of a breakdown he’s not gonna properly respond to.

you bite the inside of your cheek as panic starts to stir in your chest.

you haven’t been anywhere since the accident. you’ve gotten yourself so used to this environment that going anywhere else seems terrifying.

but you’ve seen how bad things will happen when you try to venture out. you left to do the same and it cost your parents your life - who’s to say you wouldn’t get your karma soon?

leave mingi without a girlfriend he doesn’t even care about anymore or your grandparents without a granddaughter you can’t help but feel they blame for their child’s death.

tears are quick to prick your eyes as you try to push down all of these feelings, looking down at the floor in a move mingi already knows is dismissive.

you hear him scoff and it sends a flurry of emotions through you, not even needing to lift your head to know he’s shaking his head.

“figures,” he hums lowly, making extra noise as he puts down his bag or plops down on the dining room chair. “i don’t know why i bothered asking.”

“mingi...” you begin breathlessly, guilt and shame and sorrow filling you.

“no, y/n.”

his voice is firm and hard and makes you meet his gaze, the look he’s throwing you icy and completely empty. he’s done and you’re done and there’s basically a ticking time bomb between you two.

“you didn’t even let me give you an answer.”

“because i know what it’s gonna be!” he roars, feeling stupid for getting excited when he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to leave. “i know you’re gonna make up some bullshit excuse about school or work or money and you’re gonna say no.”

you can’t say anything because you know he’s right. but what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying. you try every day and every week and every month to push yourself out of your comfort zone and it just doesn’t work.

you’ve tried going away with him and you’ve tried expanding your horizons - you’e even moved out of your parents house to live with him. but it’s hard when you’re constantly reminded by the fact that your decisions ended a life.

while it was technically the drunk driver’s fault, your survivors guilt heavily outweighs that. intrusive thought after intrusive thought until you start to question why you’re even still here, too.

“i’m trying, mingi,” you say, your voice shaky and defeated. “i’m trying but you don’t even see that.”

“how are you trying?” he asks, watching your dejected form a few feet away from him. “you haven’t done anything different since you moved in with me. we’ve been living the same life for the past two years, y/n.”

but you just remember how patient he was when you first tried moving in. how he was so patient and kind and gentle and was everything you needed him to be.

but he can just remember how much he loved you. how patient and understanding he was, not fully grasping the severity of what happened to you and how incapable he was of dealing with it.

“i’m... so fucking sick of it. i’ve grown to be so sick of you and i hate that, y/n. i hate feeling like this but it’s the truth.”

“and you don’t think i am?” you blurt out, the dam of tears breaking as you hear him say those specific words to you - i’ve grown to be so sick of you.

your frame is smaller and fragile and you’re like a shell of the person you were when you first met as you make your way up to him, looking over him with all the pain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“you don’t think i’m sick of feeling this way? of seeing how much you obviously hate me and are over this when i can’t stop feeling this way? because i’m sorry it’s been inconveniencing you, mingi, but it’s been ruining me, too. sometimes i can’t even believe i’m still here.”

the last part of your sentence stirs something in him but he can only focus on your broken state. watching as you grow weaker and weaker because of him.

“you haven’t even been helping me,” you suddenly say, words quiet and soft-spoke but filled with an obvious hurt. “i... i don’t know why you’d even wanna go on a trip with me because we’d just fight, mingi. we’d just fight and i’d cry and you’d leave me. th-that’s what we keep doing.”

tears burn the back of his eyes, a knot growing in his stomach so big it feels like he’s about to puke.

“because i don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he say, his voice less harsh but still holding a certain degree of bite. “i tried so hard with you and nothing seems to work. i loved you, i still love you, and i was there for you and i tried so hard with you but... i don’t know how to help you.”

“you think yelling is the way? or leaving me is the way?” you laugh out manically, tears rolling down your face that you desperately try to reach out and wipe. “you’re sick of me but i’m sick of you, too. i’m sick of feeling this way and i’m so fucking sick of thinking you still love me.”

“you don’t think i love you?” he asks, rising from his chair and making his way over to you. 

his looming height should make you nervous, the way he’s looking down at you and threatening to trap you against the counter should make you nervous, but it doesn’t.

because coming to terms with this right here is the worst part. the conversation you’ve been avoiding for months and the obvious change in what you two have become.

“i don’t,” you say, finally meeting his gaze and seeing hurt and anger swirl behind them. they used to hold such a sweet softness that would sometimes make you feel better, even if just for a little bit.

“because even if you do, you’re still sick of me, right?”

one year ago:

“what if you get sick of me?”

the newest compromise had been his family coming here to meet you.

you and mingi had booked refundable tickets for a week in his hometown, a part of you wanting to desperately prove you could do something for him. something that would make him happy and maybe prove you love him a little more than you can convey.

but the second you got on the highway to the airport, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to.

memories played through your mind of you in the backseat of your parents car, laughing and talking with them as you promised to be careful and take a lot of pictures with them.

hearing them tell you they loved you and were so happy you were able to go after all.

and then you’d looked to the other side and see in your mind a car hitting the other. spinning out and smacking into the divider as an eruption of fire, car parts and the chaotic screeching of breaks echoed through the air.

mingi had to pull over to calm you down, bring you back to the real world in the form of hugging you close to his body and his hand running through your hair.

“i’m- i’m sorry, mingi, i’m sorry, i-”

“sh, you don’t have to apologize, baby, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he hums against your head, pulling you over the console to rock you gently in his lap.

he was warm and broad and soft spoken and everything about him made you feel safe. you couldn’t grasp at the time how or why he was so understanding and sweet but you didn’t even wanna question it.

because he was the one thing in your life that made you feel okay. that you had him and he had you and there was nothing that could be that bad if you had each other still. 

he didn’t let go of your hand once as pulled onto the highway, got off the exit and made his way back home.

he guided you back into the apartment and told you to go lay down and that he’d be there in a second. 

he cancelled the flight and called his mom, telling her you guys got rained out and that, if it was okay, he’d pay for them to fly out here next week.

the bed dips a few moments later, broad strong arms wrapping around your waist before you’re pulled into his chest.

it was after a few silent minutes stretched between you two, the calming rise and fall of his chest against your back, your small voice pierced the air.

“i’m sorry, mingi.”

he could tell you were gonna cry before you even started, turning you in his arms as he pulled you closer to him.

“baby, i already told you you don’t have to-”

“but i do,” you cut him off, lower lip trembling and stomach knotting guiltily. 

“i... i don’t think this is normal, mingi. i should be able to move on with my life and travel somewhere. i wanted to go so badly and meet your mom but i-” your voice breaks as tears fill your eyes and you try to catch the breath threatening to suffocate you.

“i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever,” you say quietly, looking up and meeting his soft, sweet gaze. “i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever and you’re gonna become tired of it.”

“baby... that’s never gonna happen,” he assures you, voice gentle but firm as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“and you’re not gonna be like this forever. we can get you help. and i can help you,” he says, his eyes looking into yours with such a raw honesty and love. “i... don’t really know how but i’ll do whatever it takes.”

“what if it’s not enough?” you ask, because at the time it’s like you knew just how bad this was gonna get. that even with as low as you felt then, it wasn’t even rock bottom.

“what if you get sick of me?”

“i won’t,” he reassures, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your head before settling you onto his chest carefully. “that’ll never happen because i love you, y/n. and i always will.”

present day:

in a turn of events, you were the one who left after that. 

came right to the place you first met, except now the lake isn’t frozen over and the late-afternoon sun had just set.

his words were too harsh and reminded you too much of his broken promises.

you felt too weak and pathetic and completely hopeless, the tense silence so horribly loud between you two you left without a word; and he hadn’t said anything either.

and now, as you sit at the spot you’ve always come to and found solace in, you can feel why he was always so hurt when you didn’t ask him to stay. because even though you were fighting and even though you both hurt each other, you wanted him to ask you to stay.

to please not go because that would’ve been the last possible way for you both to see there was something still there - even though it’s plain to see there isn’t.

too many fights and too many words have been said. too many lapses of silence and too many unspoken thoughts that now when uttered are just hurting both of you.

you’re both too hurt and you both have too many things to sort through that you can’t do together. 

one second you were staring down at the lake, your own broken reflection staring back as your feet hung in the water, and the next you couldn’t see. tears flooded your vision and sobs wracked through your body, loud, ugly, horrific sobs that you’ve been holding back for far too long.

you cry because you know it’s over with him, you know it’s been over for a while, but now it all feels real. 

you cry because you know you need some help to get past all of the guilt you feel, how if you don’t get help, you’re never gonna leave this town and see what else is out there.

you cry because you don’t even know where to start and know, even though it hurts, you have to do it alone.

you’re so lost in your thoughts and the way your cries echo through the yard that you don’t hear footsteps approach you.

you don’t even know anyone’s behind you until someone bends down and pulls you into their broad, warm chest. a chest you know far too well and a body that hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever.

he knew you’d be here and he couldn’t stop his legs from jumping in the car and coming to see you after you left. half because he knew this had to happen and half because he was far too scared for you to be out here like this.

he knew what conversation was gonna follow but he knew had to hold you one last time. he missed holding you and he missed wiping your tears away.

“i don’t know what happened to us, mingi,” you whimper into his chest, the tears that have been building behind his eyes finally coming to the surface.

he doesn’t know what happened either. he doesn’t know when or where you guys went wrong or when you stopped talking to each other. he doesn’t know when he stopped loving you in such a way that was all consuming, where he knew he’d do anything and everything for you.

“i don’t... i don’t think this is working. i don’t know what to do but i know i can’t do this anymore.”

“i don’t know what happened either, baby,” he mumbles against your head, his words wobbly and wet as he tightens his hold on you. it feels as if every part of is heart is breaking, for the way he’s neglected you and the way your crying against him.

“i’m sorry i can’t help you. i wanted to so fucking badly but now... i just, i can’t, baby.”

you cry harder as you shake your head against him, feeling him plop down and pull you into his arms tighter.

it feels every bit as heartbreaking and upsetting as you both knew it’d be. it’s probably why you guys put it off for so long. because even though you feel the love you used to feel, you both know nothing will change.

he’ll resent you and you’ll resent him right back.

he’ll say he stayed for you and tried to help you and you’ll say you never asked him to do any of it.

you both sit there and cry and hold each other until the sky falls dark and air turns crisp, the moon reflecting off the lake in a way that hasn’t changed in two years.

but everything’s changed between you both and it’s too heartbreakingly obvious.

“i’ll miss you,” you mumbled to him.

because you know he’s gonna go on and do all the great things he’s wanted to. move out of this town and pursue whatever dreams he put off for you, the girl he once loved more than anything.

“i love you,” he confesses quietly against your head. “i really really did love you.”

because he knows he still does, he knows he always will, but it’s not something either of you can bear to hear right now.

you both have said what the other needed to hear and when you guys part tonight, maybe you’ll finally start feeling better. fix yourselves and the damage you’ve caused each other and maybe reunite when the universe deems it right.

two and a half years later:

it had always been your dream to see the northern lights.

something about them had always fascinated you, how they almost didn’t see real or were just a figment of fake editing that would only ever be seen in photos.

but you had an overwhelming need to see them before your very eyes. see the sight before you and marvel in just how truly fascinating and beautiful it was.

so that’s exactly what you did.

you wrote down a list of all the places you wanted to see: the egyptian pyramids, the great wall of china, the taj mahal, the eiffel tower, all of the sights that you knew in order to see, you’d have to leave the perfect little town you loved so much.

it took a lot of attempts, a lot of tears and anxiety and frantic calls to your therapist, but finally, you were able to do it.

it was the third to last place on your 6-month journey around the world, jet lag getting to you immensely but an extremely fulfilling pride and excitement within you.

you were able to do it. see the sights and meet hundreds of different people and experience all the things you convinced yourself you didn’t need or want. 

and you didn’t have a single regret until this very moment. 

because the rookie mistake you made within this amazing, journey of self-discovery around the world was not investing in a parka.

the biting temperatures of alaska were surely getting to you right now, your glove covered hands over your ears as you trekked through the snow with other groups of (properly dressed) tourists during the aurora season.

you found yourself in a snowy, freezing field, tall evergreen trees above your heads as you waited patiently for the sky to change perfectly, a buzzing excitement and low chatter from the people around you.

footsteps crunching on snow filled your ears from every direction, your eyes on the trees and large sky above you. a harsh gust of wind whipped past you and you let out a tiny squeal, your hands shooting up to your red, wind-burnt face.

you could hear a quiet, low chuckle beside you, something about the strangely familiar sound sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. you didn’t understand them at that moment, ignoring your bodies odd reaction and keeping your eyes focused on the sky. 

it took hearing his voice, the same one you’d fallen in love with in your own backyard, for your eyes widen and quickly look over the snowy vast of land surrounding you.

mingi stepped in front of you, eyes full of amusement and pride and even disbelief, looking over your face with the same type of a fascination he had when he first met you.  

“aren’t you cold?”

inspired by: line without a hook by ricky montgomery, ty tiktok

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​ @hyunjeansuniverse​ @cherryeonii​

#so aha.... not the dystopian au #but i was inspired by a song in the car and this happened <3 #mingi #mingi angst #mingi fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

[sylvie-writes]

hi um can i request a steve rogers x reader with fall/winter vibes? like fluffy parkas, hot chocolate, bonfires, kissing cold noses, idk. i'm soft

a/n: babe this is the best idea ever! I may have turned this into a one-shot...

Snow Day

The first snow of the season was one of the most beautiful sights. Seeing unique flakes flutter in the air, falling onto anything in sight, coating the world in a white layer of fascinating snow piles.

Today, you and Steve were just going to go out and enjoy some late fall, early winter festivities. Last night you even dug around in the coat closet to pull out for parka. It was your first winter coat of the season!

With the snow not falling to heavily, you and Steve were still able to keep your plans for the day, first stop, the farmers market.

You’re parka clad arm was wrapped in Steve’s. The man was only wearing a sweater, no jacket. Boy, had 70 years in the ice done him good.

The two of you strolled around the market, enjoying the little snowflakes falling on your hair. Like a child, you playfully stuck out your tongue to catch a snowflake as Steve looked over the apples in the crate. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of you out the corner of his eye. With a chuckle and turned back to the apples, with a free hand inspecting them. You heard his laugh and knew he had been staring at you.

After inspecting the bruised apples, you finally found some good ones at the bottom of the barrel. With the help of Steve, your numbly held the plastic bag and put in the apples. So maybe you should have brought gloves. As you put the apples on the scale, Steve paying the cashier, he once again caught sight of you, but this time seeing you warming your freezing hands. He politely said goodbye to the cashier and grabbed the bag of apples, walking over to you. The only thing that sucked about going to the farmer’s market while it snowed was that all of the “buildings” were outside.

Steve set down the bag and grabbed your hands in his, making you confused until his warmth encased your hands. He smiled at your blissful expression and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze as he continued to warm your hands with his own.

Once your hands were sufficely warned, you grabbed Steve’s free hand, wanting to hold it, but with the cold, you held it in your coat pocket. Steve just smiled and kissed your temple.

You and Steve ventured around the farmers market, visiting some of the handmade items stands, where many talented people displayed handmade soaps, paintings, and even hand-sewn apparel. The farmers market was much more than fresh produce, it was a place where people came and expressed them selves. You always enjoyed talking with the stand owners, each of them telling you about their stories. The farmers market often attracted old souls and they were just so kind and friendly. In particular one older woman said something that made your heart warm.

You were looking over the scarves, an array of hand knitted accessories. Steve stood by your side, complementing you every time you asked his opinion on a scarf. Each answer was along the line of “you look gorgeous in anything, honey.”

Finally, you found a cream white chunky knit scarf, perfect for this weather. Yes, you were still cold.

As you handed the older woman some cash, you complimented her handiwork, to which she smiled and told you how the money was going towards her grandkids Christmas gifts this year. Just as you were about to walk away, she motioned for you to lean close.

“Darling, that man you have over there. Might I just say, he’s a keeper. Y’a know my husband used to look at me like that.”

She smiled reminiscing as if the man was gone, which you had inferred from her sad tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he looks at you like you are his everything. Honey, he’s in love with you and might I say you look to be in love too.”

She offered you a kind smile and sweetly patted you on the shoulder.

Her words weighed in your mind as you thought about taking your relationship with Steve to the next level. Lately, you’d been imaging a future with him and the kind stranger’s words confirmed your daydreams.

“The scarf looks good, doll.”

You were met with Steve’s charming smile as he held out an arm for you.

“Well, thank you, Monsieur!”

Steve started to walk, and you just followed, not sure where you’d both end up.

“I saw this drink shop around the corner, they have hot chocolate! Whaddya say?”

You outstretched a hand in a “lead the way” mannerism.

A few steps later, you were at the shop, where only four people stood in line. You had only suspected that a small amount of people would be crazy enough to be out in this weather.

Putting in your orders, you waited a few minutes, soon having a large mug of steaming hot cocoa, large marshmallows floated atop, caramel drizzled over the fluffy squares, resting in your hands. You looked to Steve who had a hot cocoa mustache, making you laugh. He quizzically looked at you when you just shook your head and reached for a napkin. Gently, you dabbed his upper lip and he too started to laugh as you both looked into each other’s playful stares.

Hot cocoas finished, the day at the farmers market had been successful. Earlier, Nat and Bucky had invited you and Steve over for a bonfire that very evening and you both were more than happy to go. You calculated the time correctly as you and Steve were able to enjoy the farmers market, leaving just enough time for you to make it to Nat and Bucky’s.

You and Steve did a quick once over of the farmers market, making sure you hadn’t missed anything. Seeing as you’d hit up all the stands, you both started to head for the car. The sun was setting meaning the time was the bonfire lighting was nearing.

At Nat and Bucky’s place, they both welcomed you in with open arms, literally. Nat engulfed you in a hug as you hadn’t seen her in ages. Bucky doing the same. The two stood, arms wrapped around each other, making small talk with you both as you and Steve shed off your coats. Nat and Bucky were recently married and you only hoped to have a love as theirs with Steve. The way Bucky held her hand, or the way Nat kissed his cheek while they laughed over a joke, made you long for that feeling with Steve. They had recently moved into this lovely house and there was no better way to have a house warming party than by hosting a bonfire with your closet family friends.

Nat led you to the kitchen while Bucky and Steve went out back to light the fire. Your best friend had managed to remember your love for s’mores and got all the ingredients.

“Tasha. You did not.”

She smirked and popped a marshmallow into her mouth, eyes rounding.

“I very much did. Babe I haven’t seen you in ages!”

You looked down to the granite countertop, “I know. We haven’t seen each since Steve and I helped you move in three months ago.”

Looking up you saw her sad smile, as she assembled a tray with the s’mores ingredients.

You walked over to help her, “Never mind that, all that matters is that we are here now!”

Her lips tugged into a happy smile and she engulfed you into a hug.

“Girls! The bonfire is ready.”

You saw Bucky pop his head in through the sliding glass door, smiling at the two of you.

Natasha nodded and picked up the tray as you grabbed the roasting sticks.

Outside, the snow had stopped and now a minimal layer of white coated the grass. Regardless, it was still cold and you curled into Steve’s lap. There were chairs surrounding the fire and both you and Nat sat in your significant other’s lap.

Steve wrapped his arms around your waist, holding his own marshmallow over the fire as his head rested on your shoulder, allowing him to see. Nat and Bucky mimicked the actions and the four of you chatted and laughed, just like old times.

You turned to Steve who held a freshly-toasted marshmallow to your lips. The corners of your lips formed a smile as you laughed, mouth open. Steve loved seeing you laugh and he enjoyed these little moments. In the light of the fire, he could see you slightly shivering and went to kiss your ice cold nose. You smiled sweetly and stole the marshmallow from his grasp making even Nat and Bucky laughing at your antics.

The four of you stayed out till dark, wrapped in blankets as you all reminisced about the old times.

Little did you know, that this time next year you’d be in the same place, but as Mrs. Rogers, enjoying yet another snow day with your husband and your married buddies.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot

[prose-for-hire]

I know what you did last Halloween...

Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This is a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. It’s going to be a small multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. Reader lives with Giles, but is not related. The deaths in this part are not described in much detail. 

Not sure how popular it’ll be with you guys, but I’ve enjoyed writing it so far !! 🖤🦇

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). Violence. Blood mention. Threat.

Sunnydale Scare? Scythe-wielding killer strikes again

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Sunnydale High school, not used to such horror inflicted on their student body since Principal Flutie’s unfortunate death in office [His memorial will be on the 31st as his family reveal it was his favorite time of year].

The scythe-wielding killer, who was seen wearing all-black with a festive mask, has claimed his most recent victims. Two members of the swim team found themselves in hot water after they were found with brutal and fatal injuries. The wounds matched the scythe that is commonly associated with the widely termed ‘Sunnydale slasher’.

It makes us wonder at the Sunnydale Express, why and how this idyllic town has managed to create such a monster?

You and the Scoobies were good friends. You helped save the world more than once whilst fighting algebra homework and Principal Snyder. You had moved from your hometown to Sunnydale at the same time as Buffy, meeting her on your first day and becoming best friends since that day. You had moved into Giles’ spare room after your parents had wanted to move on again. You had been sucked into the slaying and you couldn’t leave the others. Giles had been very accommodating and very much like a parental figure. Things had been going well, you were close to graduating and finally getting the hell out of there until one life-changing event that would forever be ingrained in your minds.

You and your friends were sat around the school canteen. The mood was pretty low and you were collectively checking over your shoulders every so often. You had been discussing the latest spate of murders. Surprisingly, it was widely covered by various news outlets and hadn’t been brushed under the rug as the usual demon relating killings were.

Buffy and Faith had been doing double patrolling, making sure there was always someone out after dark. Giles had been pleased but he wasn’t aware of the real reason. Although he had noted a difference in your mood in the past year. Despite the extra patrolling, no matter how many demon-snitches they beat up and threatened, there was no changing the answer they didn’t want to hear.

“So this… slasher? He’s-it’s-she’s-?” Xander spluttered through the pronouns in his disbelief.

“Yep. Human” Buffy shrugged, sighing and staring down at her food. Nobody had eaten anything. The lunch you all had set out in front of you was just for show. None of you could stomach much at the moment.

“Shouldn’t we have found them by now?” Willow wondered, her brow furrowing in frustration.

“It could be anyone. And I’m guessing they’re not exactly wearing their ‘I’m a killer come catch me’ sweater”

“Yeah, Giles says he’s gonna look into it, but unless it says ‘Scythe killer was here’ in one of those big old books…” You tail off as Buffy picks up your sentence.

“We’ve got zip. Nothing” Buffy nodded again. Conversation then turned. You had been in a deep discussion of something in low murmurs, that was until your best friends boyfriend walked in. A dead silence blanketed your table.

“The blank stares and silence make me feel at home” oz deadpanned and you all laughed slightly too loud at this. He squinted around the room, shrugged and then kissed Willow’s forehead before staring around at the odd vibe. He had noticed that none of you had been the same for at least a year, but anytime he tried to talk to Willow about it she just shook her head vigorously and locked herself in a different room until he dropped it.

“Well, I have some place to be that’s else. Or about three tables that way” He gestured with his head to where one of his bandmates were sat. Willow assured him she would come over and sit with them in a minute. After you finished a very important conversation.

“I can’t do this anymore, lying to him hurts my heart” Willow said sadly, shifting uncomfortably as if her heart was physically aching her, “I have to tell him”

“And how’re you gonna do that exactly, Will? Oh, hey there Oz remember last Halloween, well we-” Xander cut in harshly, trying to make Will be realistic.

“Stop it! We can’t talk about this here. Anyone could overhear, they already suspect I’m a slayer” Buffy said firmly.

“We have big mouths, sorry” You shrug, smiling tightly.

“This isn’t funny!” She snapped, the events of last year had her wound even more tightly than usual. She had more responsibility than she could handle on her shoulders as it was, let alone this secret weighing down on her like a

“I’m not laughing, Buff… I’m sorry” You whisper. You did feel guilty. You felt horrible. Some nights you barely slept, and when you did you had these horrible nightmares.

Oh, right. That guy that you killed. Well, it was a total accident and you were all very sorry at the time. I mean, you still are. But, thing is, you just didn’t happen to tell anyone or alert the correct authorities. Must have slipped your mind.

Let me paint the picture in case you managed to forget…

Last Halloween, you and your friends had been attending a Halloween party. Your collective night off from saving the world. Oz, who didn’t appear to be wearing a costume, had explained it was a shindig and you had all enjoyed the live music and spooky theme. Even Buffy had managed to relax.

Buffy had chosen little red riding hood and Willow was dressed as a knight in historically accurate chainmail. Cordelia was a cat, it was the back-up she always had in case her first choice fell through. She had shrugged, at least she looked good in it. You had decided on a werewolf, after apologising profusely to Oz who didn’t appear phased.

Xander was walking around in a karate outfit, something about being inspired by the copious violence he enjoyed on screen. Every so often he did a karate chop in mid-air and you and your friends would share a collective eye roll. Especially when he chopped some jock guy that he spent the rest of the evening hiding from. Whereas Faith was wearing as little as possible and appeared to be dressed as herself.

The band was playing decent music and the atmosphere was electric. You and Buffy had danced together while Willow and Xander laughed by the punch bowl. Out of nowhere, Faith joined the both of you and muscled you out of the way to dance with Buffy. You rolled your eyes, but knew better than to make a fuss so you went back to your other friends and joined them in conversation.

Buffy had borrowed her Mom’s car and had sneaked out while Joyce was sleeping. Joyce had been feeling a little under the weather and hadn’t noticed. When it was time to leave, she drove (badly) through the streets to drop everyone home. Oz was doing another set and would get a ride with the rest of his band.

You were squished in the back with Cordy, Xander and Willow. Faith had called shotgun. There were more people than there should be, with Cordy sitting precariously on Xander’s lap. It meant you and Willow were crushed together sharing an annoyed look as the pair continued to kiss.

Buffy looked out of the side window for a nicer view and managed to hit something in the road. You all screamed as she broke suddenly. You had hit something. Something big. You all got out to investigate and saw that it was a man. You went and shook his shoulder and he immediately sat up and grabbed at you. His grip tight and strong. You screamed as you looked at his face, there were fangs and his face looked bumpy. The others saw it too and Buffy pulled you away as Faith moved in and staked him.

The man struggled for a moment before going still. Blood had started to run from his heart and the stake that had been stabbed through it. You all just stared.

“W-why isn’t he going poof?” Willow whispered as you all just stared in horror. He had been human after all.

“It was a costume!” You shrieked in horror. Everyone’s blood turned cold. 

“We��ll have to bury him” Faith said quickly. Xander stayed silent, his eyes glazed in fear.

“We can’t!” Buffy said firmly.

“Look, it’s that or another stint in juvey and I’m not goin’ back there” Faith muttered and you all frowned, having not realised she had ever been.

“I think we should see if he has any ID, maybe we could-” You started, Willow nodding along.

“No, Faith’s right. We bury him” Xander said suddenly.

“Who made you decision-gal?” Buffy said, her usual fun language lost on the moment as she stared through Faith.

“I’m a slayer too, B. You’re not the boss” Faith tilted her head to the side and shrugged. You paused, thinking it over for a while.

“Buff, we can’t risk it. You and Faith are needed here – we can’t go to prison” You sigh, not sure if you fully believed what you were saying.

“Th-that’s actually true…” Willow said eventually, not looking anyone in the eye. It was hurting her conscience.

But that’s what you decided. For better or worse. You were all complicit now as you put him in the trunk and buried him in the graveyard in the early hours of the morning.

Nobody spoke as the sun started to rise and the plot you had chosen was no longer vacant. It had been hard to come to terms with ever since.

Missing – have you seen this man?

Sunnydale Express, 1998. November 2nd.

Mr Bates of Sunnydale California has been missing since Halloween night. Last seen leaving a party in the early hours. His wife and children are anticipating his return, although with the current rate of people vanishing often with no trace the Express, with their condolences, fears that Mr Bates may be one of a hundred Sunnydale citizens on Halloween night that will never return to their families.

This begs the question, where are all the missing going? Sunnydale has one of the largest cases of missing persons never being found in the state of California and statistics suggest it has the highest number compared to towns in neighboring states.

It had been a few days and something had shifted. Your friend’s mood was lower than ever and you were really worried about her. The guilt was eating away at her. It was so bad she finally had to talk to someone about it. Buffy was the most outwardly guilty one of you all. Covering for this went against everything she believed in. Fought for. Which is why she was probably being targeted the most.

You closed your locker and jumped, she had been standing behind it, waiting for you to notice her. She gave you an apologetic glance but still asked, “Hey, y/n, can we talk?”

“Sure, I didn’t wanna go to English anyway” You smile at her as you walk to the usual place under the stairwell you would hide when you needed to talk. She pressed a note into your hand which you unfolded and read:

‘I know what you did last Halloween…’

You gasped, looking around before looking back at her for some kind of explanation, “It was in my history textbook, so, it might have been there for at least a month” Buffy said “Did you get one?” she whispered. You shook your head, nobody had left anything for you. You would remember. Buffy’s note struck a sense of fear you hadn’t felt since that night. A bubbling guilt that was squeezing your insides and threatening to spill them out. You had felt numb since then, unable to cry or even think about the events.

“We need to tell someone. Maybe Giles? I can see how much this is killing you, Buff…”  You say, trying to comfort your friend the best way you knew how.

“I know, I try and I try but I can’t tell him. He’ll get all moral and Giles-y”

“Maybe we need that. What we did was stupid, but still an accident. I wish I had never agreed with Faith” You muttered as Buffy nodded along silently. She wished you hadn’t agreed with Faith too, you had been the type people came with for answers. Advice. So you agreeing with Faith was probably the deciding vote. She told you she would meet you later and appeared to be in deep thought as she walked away.

Willow and Cordy looked spooked, sitting down silently during the break between classes. Their notes had fallen out of their lockers and they were afraid they had been seen picking them up. Buffy revealed to the others hers had said the same thing just as Xander ran in, very visibly panicking and checking behind him with every step he took.

He just slammed the note in the middle of the table without comment. He had nothing he could say. No jokes could mask the horror that came with

“That settles it. We go to Giles” Buffy said firmly. 

“No-” Xander tried to assert, but he was outvoted this time.

“We have to. He’ll help us, I know he will” You confirmed, “Walk home with me tonight, we’ll tell him then” This was to give you some time. None of you could face going to the library for the rest of the day.

The bell rang and it felt as if it were tolling for a funeral march. The walk to Giles’ house was slow. You had swung by Faith’s motel on your way, taking a detour as you explained you would have to tell him. She surprisingly didn’t put much of an argument against.

The door creaked open and you shouted to announce your presence. But when you get there, you felt it instantly. You dropped your bags and walked into the living room. Every step felt heavy and echoed around the room. 

There he was. On the floor. Surrounded in his own blood.

Your knees buckled and you had to steady yourself against the sofa. The blood-stained sofa. Someone’s arms held you up. There were gasps and mutters but your ears were ringing, you felt very far away. He was cold, his body mutilated.

It took you longer than the others to see the new centrepiece of the room. 

‘I know what you did last Halloween’ was written in what could only have been Giles’ blood smeared across the wall of his living room. It was your warning. Your note.

A warning that turned your stomach. Knocked you all sick. He was one of you and he was gone. You tuned back into the conversation around you after having stared at the words. The words meant for you. Every time you blinked, those words were now stamped into your vision.

“It’s the same thing that was written on the notes”

“Oh, I got one of those but I threw it in the trash” Faith shrugged, but she wavered. This was hard to look at.

“We’ll have to clean it up” Xander said flatly. Gesturing at the writing.

“What?! We can’t-”

“Xander Harris, your brain is barely functional anyway - but this is totally the worst thing that’s come out of your mouth!” She shouted, her voice getting higher as she continued, “I am not cleaning the bloody writing off our dead librarians wall!” She warned. They had broken up since everything had happened. Everyone collectively winced as she said Giles was dead. It hurt. It sliced too close to the bone. At least when it had been a stranger, there was some degree of separation. But now it was even worse. 

“They’ll know or start to look into it - we gotta do it” 

You stayed silent this time, every time someone’s eyes looked at you you kept your expression blank. Until you were handed a cloth and some bleach and you grimaced but followed the others. Cordy joined you, nodding her understanding at your blank look. She took the cloth and the liquid from your shaking hands and started to help with the clean up.

Teen scream

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Reports of a large number of young people are now rejecting the upcoming holiday in an attempt to preserve their lives. Many say that this is a kneejerk reaction and that many will lose out of the best years of their lives to fear – which is what the killer will want.

Despite this, there has been a curfew agreed amongst the young people of the town and the Mayor’s office, reports suggest. Time will tell if this will be kept or if it another attempt by those cautious to get a re-election rather than improving the spate of missing persons that has only doubled since the year previous.

You were all waking in a group. You couldn’t face staying at Giles’ place so you were going to stay over at Buffy’s for the night. There was still an argument going on around you that you weren’t listening to. Faith had lit up a cigarette and kept telling everyone to calm down. That nobody could know or people would be hauling you all off to jail. That you had chosen the right thing.

“I’m sick of you all, I’m going out. There’s a party down the block. Anyone coming?” She looks around. This, you had heard. You shrug, resigning yourself to it. You made plans based on alibis now. With this cynical thought, you manage to convince everyone else to come too. You never know, it might relax them.

...Or not. 

You and the others all sat around in silence as the bass, and Faith, jumped around you. You barely spoke, you just stared into your cups. There had been some hugging when you first left the house but since then you all felt so alone. So disconnected despite being in this together. What you had chosen to do didn’t feel right and without your constant, your compass that had been Giles you didn’t know what to do.

 “Hey, man, it’s not Halloween yet!” Someone shouted. It caught all of your attention. A collective feeling of dread. That had been before all of the screaming had started.

The figure loomed over you. Everything about him screamed menacing. He frightened you more than any demon. He was stood in a Grim reaper costume, complete with blood stained scythe. He turned, spotting you finally. He had been slicing kids down as he walked. He wasn’t aiming, just wildly enjoying the chaos he caused.

He stopped in the centre of the room, facing the group of you that had just risen to your feet. He pointed. He stood still and pointed at you all. The Scooby gang.

In that moment, you knew. You knew he was the one that was taunting you. And so did every one else.

“Well, one of us has a brief scythe of life” Buffy stated, “…and it isn’t me” She ran at him, her fists raised as Faith came up behind her. In the chaos it was hard to see what was happening, all you could feel was this descending feeling of foreboding. You knew it had happened before you saw it.

To be continued…

#a very buffy halloween #btvs x reader #btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #Buffy Summers #Willow Rosenberg #Xander Harris #Cordelia Chase #Faith Lehane #Rupert Giles #ats #angel the series #Cordy #Buffy #Halloween fic #slasher #serial killer #kinda au #Halloween #multi parted fic #scooby gang #scooby gang x reader #scooby gang imagine #Scoobies

[bananaofswifts]

PARK CITY, Utah —  

When it comes to pop stars, Taylor Swift isn’t the most forthcoming. While her fans love to read into her every song lyric, she never actually reveals who her music is about. Unlike Miley Cyrus or Lady Gaga, her social media presence is pretty demure, mostly reserved for photos of her cats and promotional material.

So when it was announced that Swift had agreed to be the subject of a new Netflix documentary, we couldn’t wait to see what — if any — candid details she’d disclose in “Miss Americana,” which begins streaming Jan. 31 on Netflix. We went to the Sundance Film Festival premiere of the movie on Thursday, and took notes on all the doc’s biggest revelations.

1. She struggled with an eating disorder

In New York City, the outside of Swift’s apartment — her “front yard,” as she calls it — is permanently surrounded by paparazzi ready to snap photos of her to sell to tabloids. But in “Miss Americana,” the singer acknowledges that she’ll no longer look at the images posted of her online daily. “I tend to get triggered by something — whether it’s a picture of me where I feel like my tummy looked too big, or someone said that I looked pregnant or something — and that will trigger me to just starve a little bit. Just stop eating.”

Swift goes on to reveal that she struggled with an eating disorder for years, often feeling as if she was going to pass out during her concerts. She made a list of everything she put in her mouth each day, exercised constantly and got down to a size double zero. (She’s now a size six, she says.)

“I would have defended it to anybody who said ‘I’m concerned about you,’” she says. “I don’t think you know you’re doing that when you’re doing it gradually. There’s always some standard of beauty that you’re not meeting. Because if you’re thin enough, then you don’t have that ass that everybody wants, but if you have enough weight on you to have an ass, then your stomach isn’t flat enough,” she says. “It’s all just [expletive] impossible.”

Now, whenever she has the urge to judge her body harshly, she practices positive self-talk: “Nope. We don’t do that anymore. We do not do that anymore because it’s better to think you look fat than to look sick.”

2. She wishes she’d spoken out against Donald Trump during the 2016 election

After years of keeping her political beliefs to herself for fear of isolating her fan base, Swift first voiced support for a candidate during the 2018 midterms. The film shows her weighing whether or not to speak out against Republican Senate Candidate Marsha Blackburn, and those closest to her fret that it will put her in physical danger.

During a heated family discussion, her father points out that old-school performers like Bing Crosby and Bob Hope never talked about politics. Swift, her eyes filling with tears, tells him she’s “sad” she didn’t publicly oppose Trump two years ago. “But I can’t change that,” she says. “I need to do this. I need you to, dad, to forgive me for doing it — because I’m doing it.”

Just as she’s about to press send on an Instagram post about Blackburn, her team is still concerned about the impact. Her publicist warns Swift that “the president could come after you.” “[Screw] that,” Swift replies. “I don’t care.”

3. She used to live her life to be liked

As a kid, Swift says, she kept stacks of journals. But she didn’t just write in them with sparkly gel pens. At one point, she used an actual brass quill and ink.

And what did she use the antiquated writing tool for? To write about her “moral code” — “the need to be thought of as good.”

“It was all I wrote about. It was all I wanted,” she admits in the movie. “It was the complete and total belief system I subscribed to as a kid.”

She lived for “pats on the head,” she says — any praise that she was doing a good job on her homework or her songwriting. She only found fulfillment through external approval, and subsequently became “the person who everyone wanted me to be.”

That’s why public criticism — She’s annoying! She’s gone through so many boyfriends! She’s only friends with models! — has been difficult for her to overcome.

“When people decided I was wicked and evil and conniving and not a good person, that was the one that I couldn’t really bounce back from,” she says, “because my whole life was centered around it.”

4. Her sexual assault court battle changed her irrevocably

In 2015, Colorado disc jockey David Mueller sued Swift, claiming he lost his radio station job after her security team accused him of groping the singer. Swift countersued, alleging assault and detailing the inappropriate touching. She won and was awarded the amount she sought: $1 in damages. But the emotional impact the verdict had on her was far more consequential.

“I was unspeakably and unchangeably different after the sexual assault trial,” Swift says in the film. “No man, or organization, or my family, will ever understand what that was like.”

Despite winning the case, Swift said she didn’t feel any sense of victory “because the process is so dehumanizing.” And in her situation, she had seven witnesses and a photo backing up her claim. “What happens when you get raped and it’s your word against his?” she asks.

5. She was attracted to Joe Alwyn because of his ‘wonderful, normal, balanced kind of life’

Swift has dated a handful of famous men — Jake Gyllenhaal, Harry Styles, Tom Hiddleston — who have also made their way into her music. But when she started dating actor Joe Alwyn in late 2016, she liked that he had more of a “wonderful, normal, balanced kind of life.” His vibe put her at ease during a difficult time in her life, she said, when she was facing Kanye West-fueled backlash. (Remember the “I made that bitch famous” line from his 2016 jam “Famous”? Yeah, it was about her.)

Alwyn barely appears in the documentary, though. At one point, she kisses his hand during a car ride. She also runs into his arms after a concert, and the couple sweetly drape their arms over each other’s shoulders as they wander around backstage.

6. She didn’t try a burrito until she was 26

Just as she’s about to turn 29, Swift sits in the record studio reflecting on what the age signifies. There’s a part of her, she admits, that isn’t ready to have kids — for “all this grown up stuff.” Heck, she points out, she just tried a burrito for the first time two years ago. Which means that Taylor Swift did not eat a wondrous mix of meat, cheese, beans, rice, guacamole and sour cream until she was apparently 26 years old. Process that.

7. She’s not ready for kids yet

While Swift takes excellent care of her feline children — she even feeds one at her dinner table as she eats alongside the animal — she isn’t ready for kids of her own just yet. At 29, she says, part of her feels “57 years old” — but another part is “definitely not ready to have kids.” Case in point? She recalls visiting a friend who just had a baby and hearing how the newborn’s schedule consists of sleeping, eating, and being changed. Swift’s response? “So it’s like a Tamagotchi,” she says with a smile.

#taylor swift #miss americana

[boogiewrites]

A Girl Walks Into A Bar 10

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU. Friday at the music festival, from waking up together, to falling asleep together, they do everything while touching on this day of growth for both of them. Bella shows her playful side, letting her more childish behavior come forth and Declan eagerly accepts and enables all of it.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Drugs. Flirting. Bella finally opening up to Declan. Declan being a playful sweetheart. BED SHARING. Cuddling. Mutual Pining! Growing FEELINGS.

Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

The sun had been up for a few hours, the warmth of the morning starting to break through the exterior of the van. The sunlight washed in the tops of the windows despite their secure curtains and a beam of light causes Declan to stir. He pulls himself out of a deep sleep slowly, his eyes heavy and body heavier as smoking the night before had relaxed him to the point of total surrender. He blinks and squints, his eyes adjusting to the trickling light in the dark van. He noticed first that he still has his arm around Bella, and the moments of vulnerability the night before come back to him. The covers are still over him, and his arm weighed on her waist but with the relaxed look on her still sleeping face she certainly didn’t seem to mind. He’d slept so deep he hadn’t even feel her move, with the way her breathing was so slow he guesses she didn’t know she’d moved either. Her head was against his chest, her cheek smooshed adorably, her lips puckering and blubbing as she exhaled. He watched her for a few long minutes, totally at ease. He wished she could feel like this when awake, but he felt that same thankfulness as he did last night that she was beginning to trust him enough to let him in and see this side of her at all.

With his arm bent under the pillow, he moves it carefully to push his hair back before settling in slightly closer to her. He relocates his hand beneath the covers resting it behind her back, feeling her hair tickling his hand. He moves his fingers, feeling the soft strands between them for a moment before his eyes move back to her face. She looked so sweet and if he was being honest with himself, beautiful. Her freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks, just barely visible with her light brown skin. Her groomed and arched brows were only imperfect from a scar that rested on one of them, but it was unnoticeable from far away when she had makeup on. The same could be said for a pale scar that ran back and disappeared into her hair he hadn’t noticed before, and a divot near her jawline, the softened square that it was, that he thought might’ve been from childhood chickenpox. He had a similar one himself, along with the much more noticeable scar over his brow and upper cheek from a particularly nasty run-in with a broken beer bottle in his youth.

He gives over to the wants of the sleepy haze he still resides in comfortably. The warmth from her body against his under the fuzzy blanket she seemed particularly fond of must’ve made him feel the warm and fuzz carry into his chest. He moves, the covers sliding down her tattooed shoulder as he gets lost in his feelings he usually tries to push away. His cut almost too short fingernails are still holding yesterday’s dirt underneath them despite his best efforts at scrubbing them the night before. They push back the hair that has fallen in her face, as his half-lidded eyes look over her. She stirs, a dreamy expression and a smile on his face, letting himself feel the growing feelings for the woman in his arms while he could.

Besides how effortlessly charming she was to him with her bad jokes and crooked, mischievous smile, he thought about what was drawing him to her so much. What was making him get anxious when he hadn’t seen her for too long? Or what made him light up at a simple text from her? Maybe he saw pieces of himself in her. They certainly had a lot in common when it came to personal taste. She also had a past that held pain for her, and he felt connected to her for it. She was funny and sassy and crass, all traits he needed someone in his life to have to deal with him. She was reserved, a bit tightly wound at times and had the tendency to express her sensitive side through anger and violence. But he knew how to handle that and he could really understand why a woman like her would act in such a way. Maybe it was the softness that she was starting to pull the curtain back on for him. She made him feel special just by wanting to be around him, she had said it herself, she hated everybody else. He watches her brow furrowed at the touch of his fingers boldly in her hair. A small and sweet grunt as she shifts her body against his and he feels his stomach flutter like a schoolboy with a crush. He’d liked her before this trip, but he was only finding reasons to like her more. Particularly while she was nuzzling against him, looking more like a harmless kitten than a hellcat. He could see the damage that had been dealt to her, but he also saw the strength it had left in its wake. He sighs, not knowing exactly where he stood with her, worrying the feelings he had for her that were now unavoidable for him were one-sided. He leans forward and plants a kiss to her forehead while he has the chance.

She feels a tickle, which draws her out of her deep sleep. But she’s so comfortable, feeling so warm and relaxed that she doesn’t want to wake up. After he sees her shift, only moving closer to him he stops touching her hair and lays back, letting his mind wander and listen to her breathing. With his body protectively arched around hers, he let himself daydream about getting to wake her up with kisses and roaming hands.

She falls back into a dream, with a lucidness to it now. She could feel him against her, smell him as her nose and mouth pressed against the scratch of his chest hair. Her hand opens, her palm bravely mapping out the contours of his pecs and chest before wrapping around to his back, letting out a satisfied moan at the lean muscle she felt there. She feels his mouth in her hair, murmuring a good morning as she smiles in response. His skin is so warm beneath her curious fingers, a hardness when pressure was applied to his skin, but a comforting softness overlying it. He was physically so appealing her body was responding to her suppressed need.

“You didn’t try anything last night.” She says, nuzzling between his prominent pecs.

“No. Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you. You can trust me.”

She hums happily at the perfect response. What any person would want to hear. For a reward, she kisses his chest first, a single peck as she feels his hand move to her lower back, a brief pause before she shifts and kisses his jaw, nose buried in the fluff of his beard before it moves down the swell of her ass and grabs a handful assertively. Her kisses move up and to his neck, his ears, his temples and onto the trio of moles on his cheekbone. A breath away from his pink and soft lips, her thumbs brush across his handsome face. Grazing her nose to his he says her name and she smiles, feeling his lips move against hers. She gives in to what she wants, kissing him, tongue teasing and feeling his big hands move over her curves without hesitation. He says her name again, but she doesn’t want to stop. Then she hears him chuckle. A deep and raspy morning voice full of amusement.

“Bella. Wake up.” He says, watching her squirm and grunt as he watches her mouth move, trying to figure out the words she was saying in her sleep. “You having a bad dream there babe?” He asks, his hand more certain on her cheek before his thumb brushes across her temple and pushes her hair back again.

“Mmmm.” A discontent mewl escapes her as her brow furrows deeply, her hand moving to her face.

“Morning there Cheech.” He teases. “It’s almost 10.” He informs her in a soft voice.

“Sleep.” She says grumpily and slams her face into his chest, pulling the cover over her head.

“Oh don’t be like that now.” A laugh that she can feel rumble in his chest moves through her and makes her let out a deep sigh. At least she was in his arms, she thinks. It wasn’t on top of him kissing him, but that wasn’t exactly the next move she needed to make. But the thought was now firmly planted in her mind.

——————

Bella sits on the bed with crossed legs, her make up bag poured out next to her and her toilette bag on her other side.

“Oh shit. I forgot to put my music on, would you mind babe?” She says with a kind tone that makes him more than willing to do what she says.

“No problem.” He replies, sitting down his water and moving between the two captain chairs and hooking the phone up to the sound system.

“Put it on... upbeat/dancey.” She asks with a playful smile as she brushes out her hair.

“K. Lemme find it.” He mutters, thumbing through Spotify, not yet familiar with it entirely. He sits in the passenger seat and eventually finds her playlists. The usual as he expected, morning mix, shower mix, songs to drink to. But what caught his attention scrolling down to get to the “U” in upbeat, was a string of playlists called Slow Jams. She had Slow Jams Vanilla, Slow Jams Fast, Hard, Rough, lovey, angry and grooves. He smirks and chooses Slow Jams Hard.

She hears the opening drums of Pussy Liquor by Rob Zombie and she stops mid spray of dry shampoo and tilts her head. “That’s not on that playlist.” She states almost as if it were a question.

“Nope.” He grins, his head peeking out at her from behind the chair. “What are these playlists called Slow Jams Bella?” He says with a childish tease in his voice.

She tilts her head and smirks. “I don’t know. What do you think they are Declan?” She mocks back.

“He gives her a wide grin that makes his eyes shut.

“Put it in the right playlist and stop killing my vibe you turd.” She says with a shake of her head.

“You’ve got a lot of playlists.” He says picking the correct one.

“I do.” She bods in agreement. “I like having music for every occasion.” She explains.

“You have two shower playlists.” He laughs. “Commute good, commute bad, work, cooking, parents.” He lists.

“I do know what playlists I have I made them.” She smiles and continues looking into the mirror and getting ready.

“You really do like all sorts of music don’t you?” He asks, still Nosily thumbing through the songs.

“Comes with the territory.”

“But you look like you’re such a... rock and metal chick.”

“It’s my preferred aesthetic. Plus rock is my favorite. Doesn’t mean I can’t also like pop and Motown.” She throws out as examples. “I have to stay current to be great at what I do.” She adds in, and he once again feels that attraction towards her for what commitment she had to her craft.

He watches her for a moment, a Bobby pin between her teeth as she pulls her hair half up into two little buns. “You look like a spice girl.” He chuckles.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She puts her hand to her chest and gives him a teasing pout. “I need my curling iron out of my bag there if you don’t mind.” She points with her elbow while her hands are busy.

“Yep.” He responds only to show he heard her. She had two bags pushed together in the bottom shelf behind a chair. With his back to her he bunches over one, unzipping and digging his hands through it to find no curling iron. But, what he had done was open the wrong bag and currently had a fistful of her black panties. He flinches, his eyes growing wide as he sees the lace and lack of fabric on some of them mixed among her tank tops and bralettes.

“You got in the wrong one there hun.” She calls out with laughter in her voice. “Get out of my panties ya perv.” She lightens the mistake by snapping a hair tie his way.

“But I’ve never seen panties so small! Where’s the rest of them?” He holds up a g string and has an almost convincing look of innocence on his face

“Well you clearly haven’t dated any fun girls.” She laughs and quirks an eyebrow at him. “Or watched any good porn.” She adds with a snort.

“And you have?” He says with an impressed look, panties now tucked away back in the bag as he opens the right one.

“Oh yeah.” She nods. “Well I mean I’ve not dated any girls but about the porn, a resounding yes.” She says with a smile that shows no embarrassment as she takes the curling iron from him.

“Most girls I know don’t.” He says introspectively, sitting with crossed legs like her in the floor, looking up at her perched on the bed.

“No. Most girls lie about it.” She states with a confident delivery.

“Really?” He asks with genuine curiosity.

“Yeah. I mean there’s such a stigma around women and liking sex, or having a sex drive at all. Lots of shame built in about it ya know? Especially compared to guys.”

“You don’t seem ashamed.” He says politely, but his tone was really an appreciation for the honesty she always brought to their conversations.

“Nah.” She frowns and shakes her head. “Never has much use for it. I mean, have you seen the way I dress?” She asks with a goofy crooked grin that he’s deemed his favorite of hers. -------------------- As Declan pulls his large half tied boots over his distressed denim jeans, grunting as he finally gets his heel into the shoe he raises his nose and sniffs the air.

“Bella you’re gonna get suspended!” He calls out with a scolding voice. He hears a giggle in response that makes him grin and sigh.

“You’re such a square!” She says loudly before coughing and laughing. He walks around the back of the van, seeing her smoking the joint that they’d been so generously gifted. "Ya gonna be a narc or hit this with me?” She asks with a hand on her hip, other arm extended with its stack of turquoise bangle bracelets.

“Hey, fuck you buddy, I’m no narc.” He says with a puffed up and defensive attitude, playing along.

“Good. I don’t fuck with narcs.” She grins, a cocky of nod of her head following her words. “You gotta take pics of me ya human tripod.” She says with a feminine giggle that makes that same dopey smile appear unfiltered now from the floaty highness he was experiencing.

“I’m glad you are respecting the title.” He tells between coughs.” Ya finished with this ya stoner?”

“I am and I wanted to not be so uptight in the big crowds today. Plus being high and listening to music is just...” She lets out a sigh and a shrug, “the best.”

“Lemme go kill this.” He mumbles, smashing the cherry on the tire and moving to hide the roach in a tin of Altoids.

She’s already taking selfies in the sunlight when he returns. Big sunglasses with her mini space bun hair, a ripped and almost threadbare t-shirt tucked into the front of her cut off and frayed denim shorts. They had enough holes to match the shirt and he was getting a peek at some of the panties he had been wrist deep in earlier. Except not in the meaning he’d prefer to have at this juncture. He shakes his head and loses the thought, more time for that later.

“At least you’re wearing a whole shirt today.” He jokes. His own a look similar with its holes from wear and time.

“Had to give my skin a break. Didn’t want a bunch of sun two days in a row. Gotta go easy on the tattoos.” She explains. “Speaking of, did you need sunscreen?” She asks, beginning to ruffle through her bag.

“Nah. I don’t burn. Well...I mean I have before but it’s rare.”

“Must be nice to be the son of a sun god.” She says in a teasing tone.

“Nah. Just Cree.” He says proudly with a big smile.

“Well c’mon and take pictures of me Sunny.” She chuckles. “Then we can go get some food, I am starving.”

“Because of your peer pressure so am I.” He admits, rubbing his stomach and holding up the camera on them both.

“Not my fault you gave in. Didn’t you go to those assembly’s as a kid?” her body language is much more friendly today, her cheek next to his for photos, her hand on his stomach as she smiled.

“Must’ve missed that day.” He chuckles as he takes advantage of her clearly comfortable body language and pulls her in as she raises her leg over his hip and grabs him around his middle as he smooshes her face into his chest. It’d be one of his favorite pictures ever taken of them, him with a clear look of pride for having her affections, holding her close. And her with a big smile that showed what a goof she really was as she gave into the goofy nature of the face smooshing and raised her hand to act like she was honking one of his pecs. The following pic was one of her favs. It had his genuinely shocked face open with laughter and looking down at her, with her looking up with an open-mouthed laugh that wrinkled her nose. Since she was a kid, she had no pictures of her enjoying herself in such a way.

------------------------

They walk side by side with their mutual gates of swaying steps, hers with her hips and his with his shoulders. They make their way down the field to where it's populated, the spot they'd chosen was the farthest from the stages and it seemed no one else but the hippie's wanted to keep to themselves and that was fine with them. As soon as they hit the first row of parked RV's and trucks, tents and fellow van enthusiasts the smells of festivals past come and hit them both with a wave of nostalgia. Unfortunately, that wave also came with the B.O., old food, smoke and abused porta-potty smell that lingers with a crowded outdoor festival.

They move through the river of people, trickling in from the rows and into one main vein that led into the gate for the stages and food. As soon as it becomes crowded, Bella begins getting knocked around and bumped into. She noticed Declan was avoided and felt jealous of the power his height, look and sex gave him in a crowd like this. Luckily, she just sighs and comes up with a much less angry and much simpler plan to deal with this problem since she was still pleasantly high.

"Declan." she says and he turns back in a millisecond to answer her voice that he thought sounded as if it were a call for assistance.

"Yeah, what's up?" he asks, stopping and still not getting bumped into as she staggered next to him, still having sweaty bodies slide up against hers.

"You mind if I trail you? I mean, I don't know if you noticed but no one's knocking into you and I'm feeling like Mufasa in that stampede scene here." she says, a guy not paying attention knocks his arm into her shoulder without so much as an acknowledgment, proving her point.

"Oh shit. I didn't notice. Sorry babe. Yeah. What ya need? Wanna run red 42? I'll be the line backer?" he jokes, stepping closer and forming a protective bubble around her.

"I don't know what that means so jokes on you." she replies with a sassy shake of her head. "How about we just stay close?" she says holding out her hand. "You lead to the food and I'll be a lil baby duck and you be big daddy duck and I'll waddle behind you." she chuckles, taking his hand without so much as a flinch.

"C'mon then little fluff butt." he lets out that big dumb laugh she loves, a deep rhythmic pulse that shook his chest. She couldn't help but watch his pecs bounce.

He leads, her hand in his behind his back as she moves unscathed through the crowd. She'd be bringing him to every event that had crowds from now on she decided.

After standing forever, having a conversation about what outrageous thing they would be willing to eat with how hungry they were, they finally got to the booth they wanted.

"GBD." she says with a deepened masculine voice, raising her shirt and patting her stomach.

He snorts at the goofiness she's willing to exude in a public space and lets out a giggle. "What the fuck are you on about?" he asks, getting out his wallet.

"Golden. Brown. Delicious." she says with a face as if she were drooling. "I wish we had more hands. Then we could get like... everything." she says with wide eyes, her stomach audibly growling at the smell of fried food.

"I want a corn dog. Period. Everything else is second. I'm fuckin' dyin' for a corn dog." he says, now rubbing his stomach and shaking his head.

"Make it two. Then I want a mega cheese stick. Wait,no, get two foot long corn dogs!" she says with enthusiasm.

He wasn't sure but he felt what could be love surge through him for her words. "Whatever you want Bells." he says staring at her counting on her fingers and hypnotized by the menu.

"Two foot long corn dogs. A mega cheese stick. Oh a tater'nado! A deep fried snickers for dessert...WHAT SPAGHETTI?!" she says with a dropped jaw as he swoons openly.

"Spaghetti?" he asks, turning back to the menu.

"Spaghetti on a stick. Deep fried mozzarella with pepperoni stacked on a deep fried meatball in a fried nest of spaghetti noodles. Fuuuuuuuck." she says feeing the drool accumulate in her mouth. "That's the most insane thing I've ever heard. We need five." she laughs and turns her beaming face towards his.

"How about one?" he suggests.

"Deal." she nods. "I'm not unreasonable." she proclaims.

"Won't your ancestors like... roll over in their graves for this?" he jokes.

"Like yours did when you ate that "Indian Taco" yesterday?" she smirks.

"Point taken." he nods and purses his lips in acceptance of the burn.

"I hope mine RISE from their graves for this. It's Italian... It's American. It's a melting pot ya old fucks, get into it!" she says cheerfully with waving hands.

"You're a fuckin' nut." he says with a loud laugh that he bends to slightly.

"You have no idea." she laughs with him and touches his arm to shake her head and emphasize her point. "Now feed me before I start gnawing on these beefy arms of yours." she snorts and gives his bicep a squeeze.

------

They sit on one side of the bench with both hands full, already having finished the fried spaghetti and corn dogs and now sharing a cheese stick. The dessert still left to go.

"You got a little... well a lotta..." she laughs with a mouthful of fried bread and cheese as she chews and swallows, fingers picking strings of melted cheese out of his beard.

"Oh I got a little?" he says foolishly, acting like he's going to get it but keeps purposely missing the pieces.

"C'mere you child!" she laughs, grabbing the chunk and then pointing behind him, prompting him to look in that direction.

"What?" he says turning back to her chewing. "No." he says with a slow-growing smirk. "You did not."

"Did what?" she asks with faux innocence, her back hunched and her nose wrinkling with guilt.

"Did you just eat that?" he asks loudly and throws his head back into a loud laugh.

"Maybe?"

"You're so gross." he says in laughter.

"I mean... it's been claimed before." she shrugs and smiles widely.

"It's a statement, not a roast." he says for clarification.

"Roast? You got roast in there?" she asks, leaning forward and putting her fingers into his beard.

"Oh my God Bells, STOP!" he lets out a giggle, grabbing her wrists as he pushes her away. "Let a man eat!" he says putting one end of the string of curly potatoes into his mouth.

"No peace as long as a hungry Fiore's around," she says with a wag of her finger, looking to the basket on the table with the two final desserts's on a stick. She watches him chaw and look around, his mustache moving comically over the rapidly disappearing tater'nado. "Don't hog it all." she says, taking the other end and eating it.

"We gonna lady and the tramp this?" he asks without even thinking about it.

"You're the lady and I'm the tramp." she says with a mouthful and they both laugh.

"You're certainly not a lady so I would agree." he sass's back.

She stops sucking up the strand like a noodle and lets him have the rest. She moves sits up straight and burps. "I plead no contest." she says proudly.

"Oh yeah?" he says with a clear hint of challenge in his eyes. He sits up and belches out a noise that clearly is the louder of the two.

"Damn. I concede." she says. "That's a good one, dude." she says raising her hand for a high five that he gladly takes. "Now for the sweets." she says with a shimmy of her shoulders.

"Now this one is MINE." he clearly states, swiping away the deep fried cheesecake. "Since you didn't want one and went with a Snickers. Ya basic." he proclaims before shoving the end into his mouth.

"Since when do you know current slang?" she says with a judgey tone, picking up her choice of fried food.

"I know things!" he says defensively.

She gives him a side eye before biting into her treat.

"I do! Don't give me that look!" he chokes out with a mouthful of cheesecake.

"Fuck that smells good." she says looking longing at this mouth. "Can I have a bite?" she asks politely.

"I dunno. You made your choice." he says with an attitude-filled shake of his head.

"C'mon. We shared the other stuff." she whines.  "You can have a bite of mine! It's good!" she offers, holding it out.

"Fine." he says handing over his stick. "But keep yours I'm not much for chocolate." he shrugs.

"WHAT?!" she says in a loud offended tone. "You can take me home RIGHT NOW!" she proclaims acting like she was going to stand.

"I don't hate choclate." he laughs and pulls her back down by her wrist. "It's just not my top pick is all. Plus I'm so fuckin' full." he groans and rubs his extended belly.

"I could eat more." she giggles.

"Well give that back before you do." he holds out his hand.

She shakes her head and licks it and grins.

"Bella...." he says with a warning.

"I like it better." she mutters.

"I told you!" he says shoving her knee.

"I think..." she says sneakily starting to stand and making it look like she was resituating her legs. "I'm gonna keep them both." she says with a calm delivery, slow to throw him off of her plan.

"No, you're-!" he starts. But before it's out of his mouth she's up and running away. "Fuck's sake." he says with a loud laugh, propelling himself off the bench and after her, holding both sticks in her hands and laughing like a child. What a different side to her this trip was bringing out. He has a brief moment of sadness, thinking that it would end soon. But it's quickly forgotten as his long legs catch up fast and grab her around the waist, picking her up off the ground and spinning her a few times as her feet kick out and she squealed like a thrilled child.

"Declan!" she shouts and lets her head fall back in a belly laugh.

Her wiggling and snorts of genuine laughter make his heart thump. Her hair falling into his face and her head on his shoulder as she was suspended helplessly as he shook her back and forth, both snacks still firmly gripped in both hands. He puts her down and they both pant from full stomachs and too much running, still laughing, his hands on his knees.

She watches his face light up. The warm tones of his skin practically glowing, his cheeks coming up and hiding his brown eyes under that masculine hard brow. His teeth too perfect looking for the rest of his rugged face shine with the wagging tongue in his mouth as he laughs with a broad smile. The not sober state she was in, the fullness in her belly translating to fullness in her heart catches her off guard. He was really... gorgeous. "You have like..." she begins, her mind floating in a haze of happiness and endorphins from food and fun. "The best laugh dude." she says softly, her light tone taking him by surprise as his eyes reappear, now wide and questioning as he sees her face set in a soft and honest pose. "Your face just... lights up." she offers with a closed mouth smile, one side higher than the other. "You laugh with your whole body." the smile breaks and shows her teeth. "It's really nice." her face looked almost like pity, but he knew it wasn't. He was scared to acknowledge that it really looked more like adoration.

"You're really sweet Bella." he says standing up and looking down at her with a smile that still beamed. "But don't think all those nice words are gonna get you out of this you little shit." he growls and grabs his cheesecake and gets her in a headlock.

"Noooo! Declan!" she whines and laughs, trying to get her snack to her mouth and failing.

"Punishment fits the crime." he says, proceeding to walk around with his arm around her head and her bent over and laughing.

"At least your deodorant smells good." she snorts.

"Flattery will NOT get you out of this one." he says with a firm nod. But really, she didn't want to get away from having her face pushed into what she'd described to Charlotte as his, beefy tiddies. She giggles at the thought and happily stomps alongside him until he deems the punishment over. ----------------------------

The sets ran late and long into the night since it was Friday, starting off the main stage performances. Bella kept her energy up well past the bedtime of the night before since she'd slept so well. She and Declan made their way through the dense crowds, their fingers in each others belt loops, holding the backs of shirts and holding hands to manage. Bella found it far easier to be at a show with a person that was about 5 inches taller than anyone else around him. He could see lines and empty spaces that others couldn't and she found the whole long day to be much less tiring with her own personal giant chauffer to guide her around.

But the dancing and walking, the shouting and singing all caught up to them both, unfortunately. Grabbing a hefty dose of carbs before the booths closed for the night, they took their bag of food and made their way back to the van with the moon and stars out and bright as the lights of the stages faded away.

They chat and catch up with Pat and Joe, having had spent the majority of the day at the craft and comedy tents. They compared their experiences and suggested bands to check out over the next two days. With a comedic sniffing of their own armpits, they laugh and say they need to find some industrial strength baby wipes to control the sweat they were dealing with from the day. Luckily for them, their new friends were always generous and offered them to use their shower in their RV. A chance they both lept at.

So with showers past, both their hair hanging much the same, damp and slightly wavy on their shoulders they're sitting hip to hip in bed, Bella holding a roach with a bobby pin and smoking with the windows cracked and a mini fan blowing out the evidence.

"This is a neat little trick." he comments, the bobby pin looking miniscule in his fingers.

"Thanks. Learned it while hanging out with bands after I graduated." she muses, a smile that held fond memories as he finds himself mirroring the expression.

She lets out a big yawn, a stretch that shows her soft stomach as it raises her shirt, the fried food, and overeating for the day shown in her pooch. "I dunno if it's the weed or if I really am just THAT tired." she says scratching her head. "That shower really took it out of me."

"Probably everything hitting us at once." he says with a slow nod, feeling his muscles powering down.

"All we're doing is talking anyway. Let's just get ready for bed." she says, pulling off her socks and balling them, tossing them at her bag.

"Sounds like a great idea to me. I'm beat." he groans, snuffing out the roach and hiding it away again. They leave the windows cracked, it let in a pleasant circulation of cool air. With their bodies so close the extra drop in temperature was barely noticed to Bella, but she was buried in blankets and not having at least one random limb uncovered at all times like Declan, due to his size.

He lays on his side, face weighing lazily on his hand. She lays on her back, knees bent and fingers messing with the edge of the blanket. There's a moment of silence as they switch off the lights, but it doesn't feel heavy or awkward. The wear they feel deep in their bodies from the busy day is apparent to them both as they lay on each other with no hesitation to the touch now. They had spent the majority of the day holding hands like a couple of kids on a field trip.

He hears another big yawn from her. "So tired." she says, smacking her lips.

"Big yawn for a little lady." he chuckles, that deep and relaxed sound that makes her close her eyes and hum with contentment.

"So nice to come back here where it's quiet after being around people all day." she says, her voice soft and quiet.

"Yeah it's like camping. I like it." he says, resting his head now on his pillow, propped up a bit above her with the height added from his arm.

"Maybe I would like camping if it's like this."

"You should come with me sometime." he offers.

"I should." she says without reluctance.

"We can even use this van." he offers.

"That'd be nice. It's nice to have this like... little bubble with you to come back to after a long day. Like a little escape from everybody else."

"Yeah." is all he responds at first, a smile on his face for her complimentary words. "It's a nice little bubble we've got here." he says before a yawn catches him.

"I like being here..." her words start to take longer to come out as she starts fading, trying to stay awake and talk like a teenager at a sleepover. "With you..." another pause as the smile still hasn't left his face. "Just so... comfortable." were her final words before she dozes off.

He chuckles and she doesn't even notice. Her mouth slightly open, one hand in her hair and the other on her stomach as her breathing moves to a deep and steady rhythm, he yawns again, wanting to stay in this bubble she was referring to. The moon came in just right so he could get a glimpse of her. He wishes he could get a picture of her like this, so peaceful. He'd just have to stare longer to burn it into his mind.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd had so much fun with a woman like they had today. She was bold and wild, never backing down from a taunt or challenge, and never losing gracefully. Which lucky for her, he found to be highly endearing. And it wasn't only because he got to comfort her after.

Another yawn comes over him, and he knows he's going to lose the fight against sleep soon too. He takes a big breath and makes a decision to bring her in for a cuddle like the night before. He lifts the covers, moving her arm gently down and cupping her back, pulling her towards him as he moved to his back. But unlike the closed-off body language of the night before, she lets out a small grunt and a tiny mewl that makes his breath catch at the delicate nature of it as she moves closer. With her eyes still closed, she slides up against his side, an arm thrown over his waist and her head on his chest near his shoulder. Her face nuzzles with a happy little sound from the back of her throat as he tries to control his heart rate at the sudden affection. She shimmies down and settles, his arm around her back and shoulders, making her feel safe. He gets to indulge once again, his face getting to rest in her hair that smelled like berries, his fingers pulling it away from her face, fingers lazily stroking the strands, still damp at the ends. He held her close, breathing her in, stroking her hair with one hand and the other resting on her arm across his chest. She had her full weight on him, a knee over his thigh, she wasn't being shy like that night before.

They both knew something was starting. She felt comfortable to be herself around someone, and a man of all things. He kept catching himself staring at her in small passing flashes of her showing total abandon to the moment she was living in. She wasn't the same woman she was when they'd first met months ago. They both knew that, and although he was more accepting of it than her, she wasn't denying the change that was happening in her when she was around him any longer. There was something besides a mutual appreciation there. Something more than friendship, but neither knew how to make the next step, afraid of what may happen after. So for now, it would be cuddles and taunts, and maybe she could work up the courage to move forward with the endless support that he was so willingly pouring into her.

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer @phillipkopusimagines-and-stuff @mjolnir96 @xmother-mortemx @this-isnt-madness

#Frontier #Jason Momoa #Declan Harp #declan harp fanfic #declan harp x reader #declan harp fan fiction #declan harp fic #frontier au #frontier fanfic #jason momoa frontier #frontier fan fiction #frontier fic #declan harp au #modern declan harp #modern au #frontier modern au #declan harp x oc #declan harp x ofc #declan harp fluff

[truemedian]

Taylor Swift details past eating disorder in 'Miss Americana'

When it comes to pop stars, Taylor Swift isn’t the most forthcoming. While her fans love to read into her every song lyric, she never actually reveals who her music is about. Unlike Miley Cyrus or Lady Gaga, her social media presence is pretty demure, mostly reserved for photos of her cats and promotional material. So when it was announced that Swift had agreed to be the subject of a new Netflix documentary, we couldn’t wait to see what — if any — candid details she’d disclose in “Miss Americana,” which begins streaming Jan. 31 on Netflix. We went to the Sundance Film Festival premiere of the movie on Thursday, and took notes on all the doc’s biggest revelations. 1. She struggled with an eating disorder In New York City, the outside of Swift’s apartment — her “front yard,” as she calls it — is permanently surrounded by paparazzi ready to snap photos of her to sell to tabloids. But in “Miss Americana,” the singer acknowledges that she’ll no longer look at the images posted of her online daily. “I tend to get triggered by something — whether it’s a picture of me where I feel like my tummy looked too big, or someone said that I looked pregnant or something — and that will trigger me to just starve a little bit. Just stop eating.” Swift goes on to reveal that she struggled with an eating disorder for years, often feeling as if she was going to pass out during her concerts. She made a list of everything she put in her mouth each day, exercised constantly and got down to a size double zero. (She’s now a size six, she says.) “I would have defended it to anybody who said ‘I’m concerned about you,’” she says. “I don’t think you know you’re doing that when you’re doing it gradually. There’s always some standard of beauty that you’re not meeting. Because if you’re thin enough, then you don’t have that ass that everybody wants, but if you have enough weight on you to have an ass, then your stomach isn’t flat enough,” she says. “It’s all just impossible.” Now, whenever she has the urge to judge her body harshly, she practices positive self-talk: “Nope. We don’t do that anymore. We do not do that anymore because it’s better to think you look fat than to look sick.”

Taylor Swift on stage. (John Shearer / Getty Images for DirecTV) 2. She wishes she’d spoken out against Donald Trump during the 2016 election After years of keeping her political beliefs to herself for fear of isolating her fan base, Swift first voiced support for a candidate during the 2018 midterms. The film shows her weighing whether or not to speak out against Republican Senate Candidate Marsha Blackburn, and those closest to her fret that it will put her in physical danger. During a heated family discussion, her father points out that old-school performers like Bing Crosby and Bob Hope never talked about politics. Swift, her eyes filling with tears, tells him she’s “sad” she didn’t publicly oppose Trump two years ago. “But I can’t change that,” she says. “I need to do this. I need you to, dad, to forgive me for doing it — because I’m doing it.” Just as she’s about to press send on an Instagram post about Blackburn, her team is still concerned about the impact. Her publicist warns Swift that “the president could come after you.” “ that,” Swift replies. “I don’t care.” 3. She used to live her life to be liked As a kid, Swift says, she kept stacks of journals. But she didn’t just write in them with sparkly gel pens. At one point, she used an actual brass quill and ink. And what did she use the antiquated writing tool for? To write about her “moral code” — “the need to be thought of as good.” “It was all I wrote about. It was all I wanted,” she admits in the movie. “It was the complete and total belief system I subscribed to as a kid.” She lived for “pats on the head,” she says — any praise that she was doing a good job on her homework or her songwriting. She only found fulfillment through external approval, and subsequently became “the person who everyone wanted me to be.” That’s why public criticism — She’s annoying! She’s gone through so many boyfriends! She’s only friends with models! — has been difficult for her to overcome. “When people decided I was wicked and evil and conniving and not a good person, that was the one that I couldn’t really bounce back from,” she says, “because my whole life was centered around it.”

Taylor Swift attends the 2020 Sundance Film Festival’s “Miss Americana” premiere at Eccles Center Theatre on January 23, 2020 in Park City, Utah. (Getty Images) 4. Her sexual assault court battle changed her irrevocably In 2015, Colorado disc jockey David Mueller sued Swift, claiming he lost his radio station job after her security team accused him of groping the singer. Swift countersued, alleging assault and detailing the inappropriate touching. She won and was awarded the amount she sought: $1 in damages. But the emotional impact the verdict had on her was far more consequential. “I was unspeakably and unchangeably different after the sexual assault trial,” Swift says in the film. “No man, or organization, or my family, will ever understand what that was like.” Despite winning the case, Swift said she didn’t feel any sense of victory “because the process is so dehumanizing.” And in her situation, she had seven witnesses and a photo backing up her claim. “What happens when you get raped and it’s your word against his?” she asks. 5. She was attracted to Joe Alwyn because of his ‘wonderful, normal, balanced kind of life’ Swift has dated a handful of famous men — Jake Gyllenhaal, Harry Styles, Tom Hiddleston — who have also made their way into her music. But when she started dating actor Joe Alwyn in late 2016, she liked that he had more of a “wonderful, normal, balanced kind of life.” His vibe put her at ease during a difficult time in her life, she said, when she was facing Kanye West-fueled backlash. (Remember the “I made that bitch famous” line from his 2016 jam “Famous”? Yeah, it was about her.) Alwyn barely appears in the documentary, though. At one point, she kisses his hand during a car ride. She also runs into his arms after a concert, and the couple sweetly drape their arms over each other’s shoulders as they wander around backstage. 6. She didn’t try a burrito until she was 26 Just as she’s about to turn 29, Swift sits in the record studio reflecting on what the age signifies. There’s a part of her, she admits, that isn’t ready to have kids — for “all this grown up stuff.” Heck, she points out, she just tried a burrito for the first time two years ago. Which means that Taylor Swift did not eat a wondrous mix of meat, cheese, beans, rice, guacamole and sour cream until she was apparently 26 years old. Process that. 7. She’s not ready for kids yet While Swift takes excellent care of her feline children — she even feeds one at her dinner table as she eats alongside the animal — she isn’t ready for kids of her own just yet. At 29, she says, part of her feels “57 years old” — but another part is “definitely not ready to have kids.” Case in point? She recalls visiting a friend who just had a baby and hearing how the newborn’s schedule consists of sleeping, eating, and being changed. Swift’s response? “So it’s like a Tamagotchi,” she says with a smile. Read More Read the full article

[iamandco]

  PHOTO: COURTESY NORMAN SEEF/ I AM & CO  Fashion never dies, it just hibernates. Still, without evidence, it’s difficult to remember that everything we’re wearing has been done before. When brands unveil their latest collections our oohs and ahhs are really odes to foregone fashion eras. We’re okay with that. I can’t think of anything people love more than nostalgia. The millennial generation has been focused on body inclusivity and sustainability. Jeans that accentuate our butts rather than flatten them is innovative. Oh, and make sure you upcycle your denim and use ethical labor. We’re not rocking the boat with new designs - no design is ever new. Our gift to the fashion world is offering plus-sized and curvy collections as a standard. Yes, future generations will thank us for fixing the problem with limited bra sizing. The latter end of this decade will be forever known as the era of “Clothes That Actually Fit.” While we’ve achieved a lot of good, some subtle fashion shenanigans have gone under the radar. We’re currently in a pants phase that I like to call “ankles be damned, and it needs to be addressed. Every single pair of pants on the market is cropped, and with little protection for our ankles, I don’t know how they’ve survived the last three seasons. My ankles have tan lines that look like the opposite of house arrest. In fact, these tan lines speak to house freedom and the mosquito bites on my ankles prove I’m just a buffet in Mother Nature’s ecosystem. This experience causes me to mentally escape to a time when jeans may have been pin-rolled, but ankles were protected by several inches of thick white socks. I escape to the 80s when fashion-especially denim- was inconvenient. This was a time when Cher and Diana Ross danced all night in jeans that weighed as much as them. Still, I have to believe that if they knew then what we know now they’d opt for the more ethical pair and they’d support brands that made trendy jeans available to everyone. These are the 80s jeans your favorite 80s style icons would’ve totally worn.   CHER, STUDIO 54 1977 - GETTY IMAGES     Grey Mom Fit Jeans $60 at time of publication Buy At Shop.Mango.Com This photo of Cher vibing at Studio 54 illustrates how I want to feel every day. If I could ask “studio 54 Cher” what her recipe was for looking so overtaken with joy, I’m sure she’d say it was 100% the denim and nothing else. Well, maybe the suspenders as well. I, too, lose it over a well-styled suspenders. To copy this look you’ll for sure need these Grey Mom Fit Jeans and make sure you don’t forget the suspenders . These 80s jeans are available at shop.mango.com .   MADONNA, 1988 - GETTY IMAGES    PHOTO: COURTESY AMERICAN EAGLE  Ripped X-Long Mom Jean $50 at the time of publication Buy At AE.com This photo convinces me that Madonna invented airport style. Airport style is a skill. Not everyone has the forethought to put together a high-key trendy outfit that’s low-key comfortable. A loose fit basic tee, leather biker jacket and thick white socks ( because planes are cold) and trendy jeans are the go-to airport ensemble. Still, I think given the option I think Madonna would opt for a ripped Mom Jean for even greater lightweight comfort. Oh, and the x-long style is a must for a commanding cuff. These 80s jeans are available at ae.com .   LISA BONET    PHOTO: COURTESY EVERLANE  Women’s 90s Cheeky Straight Jean $78 at time of publication Buy At Everlane.com Lisa Bonet (Lilakoi Moon) might very well be Mother Nature in the flesh. And, last time I checked, the enchantress still looks exactly. like. this. For Bonet, a good pair of jeans needs no embellishment beyond the natural curve of a woman’s body. Everlane’s new cheeky jean accomplishes just that with their tapered waist design and butt-lifting pockets. Add to them Everlane’s sustainability practices and you have the perfect jean for Bonet. These 80s jeans are available at everlane.com .   TINA TURNER    PHOTO: COURTESY RIVER ISLAND  Mid Blue Straight Ripped Jeans $90 at the time of publication Buy At US.RiverIsland.com Tina Turner is one of the greatest Rock & Roll performers of all time and she definitively has the best legs of all time. So, when she trades in her signature mini-dress for ripped jeans, a basic white tee, black booties, and stringed pearls - for a touch of class - it’s a statement. This look is pure rock and roll and River Island’s straight ripped jeans make the perfect statement jean. These 80s jeans are available at us.riverisland.com .   DEBBIE HARRY, 1978    PHOTO: COURTESY LEVI’S  Levi’s Medium Wash Wedgie Fit Jeans $98 at the time of publication Buy At Levi.com In one of many captivating Debbie Harry performances, she sported Levi’s classic yet lesser-known 505 style. In a Telegraph interview , Levi’s historian, Tracey Panek said the 505 was dubbed the “coming of age jean.” “ The sea of denim we see in archive pictures of Woodstock festival are there because young people were so enamoured with denim as democratic, affordable clothing that everyone could share.” — Tracey Panek The design of Levi’s 505 was largely a convenience play. The straight-leg silhouette was the same as Levi’s Original 501 but rather than a button fly the 505 used a zip fly which was more flattering and convenient. Debbie Harry adored the 505 and wore them repeatedly during performances. But, if Debbie Harry had to do it all over again we’re certain she’d wear Levi’s Wedgie Fit Jeans. They’re lighter weight, would flatter Harry’s waist and butt and come in a variety of sizes. These 80s jeans are available at levi.com .   DIANA ROSS, STUDIO 54 1979 - GETTY IMAGES PHOTO: COURTESY REFORMATION  Willow Jean $128 at time of publication Buy At TheReformation.com Oh to be a fly on the wall at Studio 54 while Diana Ross danced all night long in her sandal sling-backs, ripped tank, and perfectly tailored jeans. Reformation’s brand is built on effortless femininity and celebration of the female form. Divinely feminine describes Ross and her legacy perfectly. Well, that and a relentless proclivity to boogie. Reformation’s Willow Jean has an inseam high enough and a waist tapered enough to facilitate Diana Ross’s best dance moves until the sun comes up. These 80s jeans are available at thereformation.com .   PAMELA ANDERSON    PHOTO: COURTESY SHOPBOP  Unif Twerk Jeans $120 at the time of publication Buy At Shopbop.com Of course Pam Anderson made boyfriend wear sexy in the 80s. Those jeans were not just distressed, they were in a full-blown panic state and so was every teenage boy, and girl. Not just any pair of jeans would’ve worked for her. No, they needed to be comfortable, they needed to be cheeky. They needed to look like she rolled out of bed impossibly stunning and threw on a pair of her flavor-of-the-month’s jeans. They needed to look like Unif’s Twerk Jeans. These 80s jeans are available at shopbop.com .   CHER “I’d RATHER BELIEVE IN YOU” PHOTOSHOOT    PHOTO: COURTESY ToPSHOP  Washed Black Raw Hem Straight Leg Jeans $30 at the time of publication Buy At Topshop.com Could Cher have known how much of a statement her “I’d Rather Believe in You” photoshoot would make? Each camera flash bore a new subtle movement. Still, the shoot was so iconic that even Kim Kardashian felt compelled to recreate it . That image is a reminder that merely existing is beautiful, especially when you’re Cher. The Washed Black Raw Hem Straight Leg Jeans from Topshop are the perfect affordable jeans to recreate the look. If these jeans were available then, Cher would totally go for them. These 80s jeans are available at topshop.com .   SARAH JESSICA PARKER   High Rise Rolled Hem Mom Jeans $60 at the time of publication Buy At UrbanOutfitters.Com Sarah Jessica Parker came out of the womb a fashion icon. No matter the decade, no matter the trend, she’s never missed a beat. The woman can’t get it wrong. When you find a throwback photo of SJP leaning against a red vintage drop-top in a tuxedo jacket, pill rolled jeans, white sneakers, and thick, socks you just nod and take it in. These 80s jeans are available at urbanoutfitters.com .   BROOKE SHIELDS    PHOTO: COURTESY LEVI’S  Levi’s 501 Original Dark Wash Buy At Levi.com No list of 80s jeans could be considered authentic without Levi’s 501 jeans. The 501 jean is as much of an 80s fashion icon as Brooke Shields is. And Brooke is no stranger to the power of a good pair of jeans. You may have seen her throwback Calvin Klein jeans campaign.   PHOTO: COURTESY RICHARD AVEDON  Well, it caused quite the uproar in the 80s. A then 15-year-old model, Brook Shields, appeared in Calvin Klein ads in a revealing button-down shirt and their straight leg skinny jeans. Some Americans were none too pleased. The commercial was pulled from airing in CBS’s and ABC’s New York market. If Brooke had to do it all over again, I’m hoping she would but in Levi’s 501s since the Original Calvin Klein jeans are no longer available. These 80s jeans are available at levi.com .   JANET JACKSON - PHOTo: COURTESY GETTY IMAGES    PHOTO: COURTESY TOPSHOP  Grey Pleat Mom Jeans $80 at the time of publication Buy At Topshop.com Before Janet invited nasty folks to call her “Miss Jackson,” she sang a song called “Young Love.” The chorus went like this: “Young love Ring around the roses Young love Searching for a heart so true Young love A pocket full of posies Young love All adds up to me and you” Who needs love? Am I right? Nobody can hug you tighter than a pair of good jeans. I like to imagine that rather than young Janet searching for love, she searched for these Grey Pleat Mom Jeans to complete her look. These 80s jeans area available at topshop.com .

#self care #self love

[outdoorguyuk]

Wye Boyo, Wye?

I know I keep banging on about it, but being unable to walk for a year got me itching to get out.  As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I got into climbing in a big way and have managed to do some short runs (10k and under, with a single 18k run) but I’m still not too confident my knee is fully ready for running regularly.  I’ve been dying to do a fastpacking trip, however decided that for the time being hiking, wild camping and climbing would have to do.

Deciding it’d be good to catch up with some of the Gosport boys, I sent a few invites, with Matt & Joe saying they were up for it.  Matt had recently had surgery on his knee after a split meniscus so was in a similar state to me, which was a good thing in many ways.  God we’re old.  I decided that seeing as Matt lives in Bristol and Joe’s in Gosport, the Wye Valley would be an easy place to meet & hike.  The Wye Valley is stunning, fairly wild, not too mountainous but with some lovely hills, well forested with a huge water source flowing through the middle.  Not to mention some great pubs.  Matt lives in Bristol, Joe was coming up from Gosport and me from London, so it was probably the closest location of the sort for all 3 of us.

Joe and I arranged to meet at 7pm in Chepstow and miraculously arrived 5 minutes apart which was a good omen.  We parked the cars up in a side street and decided to go for a few pints, leaving our gear in the car.  I’d scoped out the Three Tuns, a lovely pub right by Chepstow Castle with the friendliest staff, awesome local beers (very affordable too) and a great beer garden.  About 7 pints and a few rums later, the pub closed, we were turfed out and decided to get our gear and start the hike.  Obviously I’m sure you can see the potential for things to go wrong here.

Lads lads lads!  Dogs dogs dogs! Chepstow massive.

Somewhere, during the first and last drink, Joe realised that he had forgotten a minor bit of kit.  No biggie, it was only his sleeping bag, the tit.  We got to the cars to pick up our gear and he managed to find a blanket to strap to his backpack.  I probably hadn’t mentioned but Ripley my dog was also with us, and she was also super hyped for a drunk hike through the forest.

The Three Tuns - Ace boozer, ace beer, ace staff.  

I had probably over estimated how easy it would be to find somewhere to camp.  The only wide open spaces on the first many drunk kms of the hike were cow fields with grumpy looking bulls, farmers fields full of crops or a massively overgrown Offa’s Dyke Path with high fences on either side.  

The entire way Joe was roasting me as I’d been giving it the large one about my new Black Diamond Storm head torch (review to follow), as my Silva Trail Runner 2 had died after years of abuse.  The damned thing didn’t work at all and looked like I’d strapped a tea light to my head.  Luckily Ripley seemed to instinctively know to follow the trail and dragged me along safely/drunkenly in her wake.  

After many kilometres and over 3 hours, we finally found somewhere to camp in forested area, set up the tents & fired up the Primus Lite stove for a couple of drinks before bed.  I was using my trusty Coleman Raid for Ripley and me, while Joe had bought the amazingly priced (£19.99) Decathlon Arpenaz 2 man tent (which only weighs 2.2kg, great at the price).

Get off the tent Ripley.  Man’s best friend they said.  Dick.

I had an amazing night sleep, as did Ripley.  Joe suffered the entire time, which was amazing and definitely karma for him being mean about my head torch.  It turns out the blanket he picked up whilst spannered, turned out to be really thick, but really small and just about covered one of his legs.  Basking in the glow of his suffering and my comfort, I decided to have a look at my head torch and it turns out I don’t know which way batteries are supposed to go around when I’m completely munted.  The Black Diamond Storm lit up the trees like a miniature sun in my hand and all was well in the world.  I knew this was going to be a good day.

Joe, Ripley and I decided to set off without further ado, as we’d planned to meet Matt in a car park approximately halfway between Chepstow & Symond’s Yat.  We had an amazing hike, the scenery was stunning, and we got to see a few of the climbing areas around Ban-y-Gor, Wintour’s Leap & Tintern Quarry.  We even found a place called the Devil’s Pulpit and after Googling it, this turns out to just be a square rock on the footpath, but we assumed it was the tree that seemed to have turned into a giant rock with some sort of weird pagan clearing & steps vibe going on right behind us.   

Feeling Cute. Might do a sacrifice and delete later.

Being the planner I am, I’d decided that a mid morning stop at a boozer with maybe something for the hair of the dog and a bite to eat might be in order.  The Brockweir Country Inn was at a good point on our route and looked stunning.  Unfortunately, when we got there, they had lynched a hiker from the top window and the man scouring the brickwork in a painstaking effort to bring the pub back to its former glory, informed Joe that it was closed for the first time in 400 years.  Just our bloody luck.  The next boozer was miles along the hike if we didn’t want to take a huge detour.  Still, the chap was kind enough to fill up my backpack bladder, so onwards and upwards.

The valleys are dark, the hills have eyes #lynching

Following on from Brockweir, most of the steep inclines and declines were behind us and the Offa’s Dyke trail opened up some stunning & picturesque wide open views as we hiked along the riverside.  Our progress was much faster unimpeded by hills and we made good time before stopping for lunch at Bigsweir Bridge.  Joe and I cracked open our freeze dried foods, fired up the ridiculously fast Primus Lite stove (seriously, this thing is ace) and chowed down.  I also took pleasure in pointing out that my 1000kcal Expedition Foods were not only tastier, but considerably better value for money than the Decathlon 600kcal packs.  We didn’t give ourselves much time to eat as Matt was due at the Cadora Woods car park just up the road and we realized we didn’t have any reception at all. 

Lunch at Bigsweir with the Primus Lite stove!  My Expedition Foods are bigger than yours, and I’m like...

Miraculously, we got to the car park (only 20 minutes late), sat down for 5 minutes and panicked a bit trying to work out how to get a hold of Matt, when he rocked up in his car.  Thank God.  With the team assembled we took stock of our situation - having realised that there was a hog roast and mini beer festival with local bands in Redbrook (we saw an advert on the bridge a mile earlier) it was obviously something we couldn’t miss, however it was still quite a hike there.  If we were going to spend any meaningful time there, we decided it’d be best for us to skip a leg of the trail, head there in Matt’s car and leave it there so we had transport closer to Symonds Yat.  Fate was on our side.

Gspot Squad all up in your hogroast!

Arriving in Redbrook, we were a bit disappointed to see that the festival appeared to be predominantly populated by small children.  I’m ok with this when I’ve got mine with me, but looks a bit weird when you don’t.  Still, after we’d parked up and got some stuff from the village shop, the number of adults had increased so we dived right in.  Local beers were on tap for an amazing £2.50 a pint from a local brewery.  The bands were good, people were lovely and it was too tempting to stay, but we had a mission to complete and wanted to get some climbing along the way, so we decided to get our skates on and head uphill into the forest.

The last thing Matt’s victims saw

The trek through the forest towards Symonds Yat turned out to be considerably more steep than we expected.  Perhaps it was having had a few beers in the sun, but it was a bit of a shock.  It shouldn’t be, as I can read a map, but I’m an optimist and often suffer as a result.

We followed the official border between England and Wales, having departed from Offa’s Dyke (the old border) and were rewarded by some truly stunning views.  I had hoped to visit Rodge Wood along the way where (I found on the amazing UKClimbing site) there was apparently some good bouldering, but we somehow missed it and decided to carry on.  Continuing along the border, we continued our search for the famous Suckstone (jokes ahoy, boom boom).  The suckstone is apparently the UK’s biggest boulder and it didn’t disappoint.  Walking along the path, we spotted it jutting out amongst the fronds and Ripley shot off to investigate.

The sight of the famed Suckstone from the trail! #winning

One side of the Suckstone is a head height overhang, whilst the other side is a huge slab.  Apparently it had been cleaned a few years ago, but unfortunately it was completely covered in moss, making climbing it a little tricky.  There are some really nice routes with little crimpy holds, a nice side arete route, and some cracks too.  When cleaned I imagine it’d be a nice place to spend a good afternoon climbing but things felt a bit hairy with moss crumbling off the wall on every hand and foot holds.  

Posted again, for extra ego - The suckstone.  Not nearly as dramatic as this photo suggests but don’t tell anyone.

Further up from the Suckstone is Hearkening Rock, which looked better for trad and top roping so we had a little scout around but as things were getting late, we headed on towards Symonds Yat.

The route was pretty steep and downhill, with our quads really taking the brunt of it.  With all 3 of us old men having shot knees (mine from smashing it up skateboarding, Joe from the Brecon Beacons fastpacking trip and Matt from Basketball) things got punishing but we pushed on.  At the bottom of the hill, we found a nifty rope bridge leading to a scout camp at Biblins Cave and followed the trail around to Symonds Yat.

Symonds Yat is quite a strange place.  It’s a bit hobbity with everyone living by the river on steep hillsides, with little rope pulley boats to take you from pub to pub on either side of the river.  Absolutely amazing - boat pub crawl ahoy!  Except we’d finally arrived there at 10pm so only had an hour and a half to sink a few at Ye Old Ferrie Inn rather and cross the river to try the Saracen’s head in the morning.  As to be expected, we arrived 3 minutes after the chef had closed down the kitchen so the pub were kind enough to let us crank up the Primus Lite stove and get some Expedition Food packs down us (mine is bigger than Joe’s #1000k4TW).  

Wolfing down as many pints as we could cope with (they had amazing beers there) we decided to hike back up the extremely steep hill that Symonds Yat West is based on and find somewhere to camp.  Brutalised by the climb, we arrived at camp stone cold sober and crashed out.

Dog Pillow

We had a great night’s sleep (even Joe seeing as Matt had brought him a sleeping bag) and when Ripley and I woke to get out of the tent, we were confronted by a scene that looked like Jurassic Park.  There were giant fronds everywhere, with a huge cliff face surrounding us that we hadn’t managed to notice, even with the sun like beam of my new Black Diamond Storm head torch.  It turns out that we had inadvertently camped in the middle of Bailey Quarry without realising - what a stroke of luck!

After packing up the tents, we decided to have a bit of a climb.  Bailey Quarry has got a number of fantastic trad routes of varying grades, but as we didn’t have any kit beyond shoes, we decided to have a bit of fun soloing the routes up as far as we were comfortable.  It’d be cool to come back and try these top roping which we’re planning to do later in the year.

Heading off back down the hill, we reached the rope ferry and crossed over to the Saracen’s Head pub to get a bit of mid morning lunch.  We didn’t want to spend too long here (despite the pub, food, beer and view being second to none) as we were pushed for time and wanted to check out some of the bouldering up the hill in Symonds Yat proper, with still having quite a long hike back to the car in Redhook, so we stuffed down a meal and a pint before heading off.

The hike up the hill was steep but not too far, although some of the road hiking was a little hairy.  We got back on the trail and wandered around, managing to find a few of the cliffs and some boulders probably a bit above our pay grade.

Despite having two climbing guides, an OS map and GPS on our phones, we struggled to find the boulders we were looking for.  Perhaps because we were exhausted, perhaps because we’re useless, or perhaps because we were becoming aware of how short on time we were for the 4 hour hike back to Matt’s car followed by a 30 minute drive back to ours, with a 3:30 drive back to London on the end, we decided to call it a day and start the trek home.

The trek back to the car was probably a bit more arduous than we were expecting.  

4 hours later we got to Monmouth and 20 metres from the boozer (of course, a quick pint was necessary) Ripley dropped into a fur puddle on the floor and refused to move.  To be fair she’d probably done around 40 miles and hadn’t complained once so fair game.  Upon entering the pub and enquiring about taxis, a fella named John at the bar was kind enough to offer us a lift so I put some money (which he had refused) behind the bar for him and we headed off to Redhook.

Rippers, doing the butterfly chicken, I’m not moving another inch pose.

All in all, it was an amazing weekend with the lads and I’m looking forward to more again soon.  TBC!

#Hiking #fastpacking #Wyevalley #offasdyke #wildcamping #climbing #sproodles #sproodle #springerpoo #symondsyat #climb

[saitamasshoe]

Ambrosia Ch. 2

Demeter was every bit as frustrating as Hades remembered her to be, going on and on about her many grievances- mostly related to Hade’s own siblings- as she confirmed the shipments of spiced wine for this evening's festivities. Hades was eternally grateful Demeter wasn’t known for being socially inclined, as it would put a dent in Hades plans should the Harvest Goddess catch her stealing away her son for an evening. If he was genuine about wanting to join her, that is. 

Why had she asked him? She wasn't certain. The words left her mouth before her mind could truly balance the weight of them. She desired to see the man again, she was sure. She tended to know the desires of others, but rarely did she stop to consider her own. ‘Why’ still bounced around her head, rattling her thoughts. Had she been feeling impulsive? Did the thought of mourning through one of her Brother's unnecessarily extravagant parties alone bother her that much? Was she simply bored? She didn't know. All she knew was that in the moment, the thought of being strung around the young man all evening sounded like a delightful venture. 

But it also felt so, so wrong.

It was a lie, a lovely one, one that wasn’t necessarily a lie, but still a lie. He didn’t know her name, her title. Something about that was thrilling, new. A change to her mostly static life. Withholding information wasn’t kin to anything good. Most definitely not the kind of way to start… well, whatever she had started. 

Her nails flexed against her palm, a nasty habit she’d developed when the strain of her duties seemed to lay too heavily against her shoulders. She didn’t usually find herself at such conflict. She mostly kept to herself, rarely stirred any trouble like her siblings. She wondered why this strange man she’d met hardly hours ago seemed to be weighing heavily on her mind. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had caught her eye so fiercely, but for what? Just what did she intend to do with him after tonight? Was she just curious about the dark haired man and his cocky smiles? 

“Idiot.” She cursed herself, why was she putting so much thought into this? She found some guy pulling weeds out in the woods and asked him to join her at Zeus’s party, that’s all. It wasn’t like she asked him to marry her or even to bed her. She simply asked for his company. Why did it require so much contemplation? She was overthinking it, as she tended to do. Living in the underworld tended to make one suspicious, she guessed. What did it mean to be suspicious of herself? Why was she never certain of her own intentions?

Shaking herself from the persistent thoughts she pushed through the thick grain stalks, scowling at the hidden insects and trying not to bump into the various nymphs pulling the grain, though they gravitate away from her on reflex, some weren’t as quick or alert as others and Hades found herself at the elbow-end of a handfull of frightened forest nymphs. 

Not much to her surprise the dark haired boy was still at the edge of the fields waiting for her, his chin resting in his palm as he napped, stretched out on his side leisurely, looking every bit as godly as he’d claimed to be. She crouched beside him, examining his lax features when a small grin cracked against his lips. 

“You said your meeting would be brief?” He yawned, pushing back a couple unruly strands of hair from his face as he stood, hus tunic barely sliding off his chest, clasped at the shoulder with some kind of crest she hadn’t seen, it was bronze and slightly dulled. 

“I intended it to be.” She sighed, “It’s a wonder you get anything done at all.” 

He hummed in response, “So, where are we going?” 

“Huh? Oh, yes. The party. Olympis, obviously.” Hades laughed, too focused on the annoyingly loose strap on her sandal to notice Kore’s face fall slightly, by the time she’d shoved her sandal back in place he was simply staring ahead, arms stretched behind his head with a low yawn as he walked. 

“Are you going to introduce yourself before we get there?” He questioned, intense blue-green eyes scorching her skin, she brushed down the goosebumps on her arm and tried to clear her throat. She wasn’t going to embarrass herself by gushing over him, she ruled the underworld, she reminded herself, fighting back the blush that threatened to heat her cheeks. 

“That’s the great thing about this party,” She smirked, grey smoke erupting from her palm as a slick, black mask appeared in her hand, “No need for names.” She said, handing him the half-face mask, he eyed it curiously before tucking it into his robes with a sigh. 

“You’re impossible.” 

Hades was surprised when he didn’t question her chariot, and even more so when he pushed her aside on the bench and offered to lead it. She hid her smile behind her palm as he eyed him, broad shoulders exposed to the sun as he lead it forward, his dark hair whipping around his head like a crown. 

“You’re full of surprises.” She commented, peeking up at him through thick lashes. He offered her a lazy smirk, shrugging his shoulders as the wind bit his cheeks red. 

“I suppose we both are,” He said slowly, his eyes sliding to her once again, “It’s pretty suspicious, not telling me your name, don’t you think?” 

“I doubt you would have hopped so willingly into my carriage if you thought I had poor intentions.” She laughed, though he didn’t share in her mirth, his eyes slipping back towards the world in front of them as he took in a long breath of air. 

“Yeah.” He muttered, below his breath. 

The ride proceeded in silence and as the bright glow of Olympus came into view, Hades relieved Kore of the reigns as she placed the plain, sleek white mask over her own face, unlike Kore’s it hid the entirety. She peeked at the swell of his lips, trying to hide her want as she clenched harder on the reigns. What was wrong with her today?

 “Well, we’re here, now what?” Kore sighed, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her out of the chariot. 

“Well, we can mingle uncomfortably with the other gods, we can stuff our faces with food or we could find a nice corner to sit in and say we did the other two.” Hades smiled, Kore’s deep chuckles rumbling through his barely visible chest. 

“You’re funny. Where’s this food?” 

Hades grinned, offering Kore an elbow he happily took. She could see the barest shadow of Zeus, but she found her feet carrying her towards the buffet table. 

She chatted for a while with Kore, the vibe was good and the conversation interesting, but something kept ebbing at the back of her mind. What was happening, why was she so enthralled by the man? What was it?

Fuck. Hades cursed, hand nearly snapping the stem of the glass of wine in her hand as her eyes slid around the growd. Looking for a familiar shade of red. 

“Something wrong?” Kore questioned through a mouthful of food, something she found oddly endearing. Surely now she knew why. At least…. It would make sense? It had to be. That was the only thing that could explain it. 

“No, can you wait here a sec? I need to check on something.” Hades murmured, voice low as she stalked through the crowd, eyes scanning for even the slightest glimpse of her cousin. 

And there she was, a beacon of red, her short grown falling around her thighs. Even with a mask, Hades could spot her a mile away. 

“Aphrodite.” Hades hissed, pushing through the crowd of nymphs that had gathered to take their chance with the goddess of love this evening. 

“Cousin. What a pleasant surprise.” Aphrodite sighed, flicking her long red hair over her exposed shoulder with a tight-lipped smile, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?” 

“What did you do to me?” Hades scowled, voice low as she zeroed in on the woman, fingers flicking with black smoke as she tried to calm her temper. 

“Excuse me?” Aphrodite scowled, slapping away Hade’s accusatory finger as she roughly straightened out her gown, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, cousin. Smoke inhalation finally getting to your head?” 

“You can’t be serious.” Hades whispered, hand curling over her chest as she eyed Kore from across the room. He was leaning against the wall, glass of spiced wine in his hand as he waved away a very hopeful looking male nymph. 

“Oh, don’t tell me!” Aphrodite laughed, slender hands coming to clasp the sides of Hade’s face as her eyes roamed into her own through her mask, a gleeful smile stretching across her ruby-colored lips, “Someone finally broke through your prudish facade, cousin.” She laughed, mirthfully. 

Hades shoved her cousins hands away, sighing balefully as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, “If I find out you had something to do with this I’ll-” 

“Oh please, cousin. Like I have time to care about your love life.” Aphrodite snorted, waving her hand through the air and grinning as a slender female nymph offered her a tray of champagne. She took the glass with a lustful wink before turning back to Hades, looking more tense than usual, which was saying a lot. 

“Look, if I were you- which thankfully I am not- I would enjoy my evening. The centuries go by much quicker with some… good company.” Aphrodite winked, tipping her glass before downing it, “Though it appears taste doesn’t run in the family.” She added, nose crinkling at Kore for a moment before she shrugged it off. She gave one more condescending smile before slipping back into the crowd, her admirers not far behind. 

Hades teeth dug into her cheek as she turned her head, finding Kore’s eyes on her. His arms crossed over his chest as he nodded toward her, beckoning her back. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat, not quite believing her cousin had nothing to do with it. However, what was the harm in this? It wasn’t like she was asking his hand. She was allowed to enjoy an evening without constantly worrying about the outcome, the consequences. 

She peered down at her hand, at the crescent shaped scars, brows furrowing. She quickly contorted herself, soothing her nerves as she shook away the intrusive thoughts. She wasn’t a monster. She was the same as every other god in attendance. If not more responsible than the others. She deserved to enjoy herself as much as anyone else. 

She was drawn back to him, hips swaying as she walked, not missing the way his eyes watched her movements, nor the way his body tensed under her stare. She was God of the underworld, she reminded herself once again, she was free to take what she wanted. 

“Hey there.” 

She was stopped in her tracks as a large hand wrapped around her forearm, and after a sharp tug she found herself slapped against a very broad chest. 

“And where have you been hiding all evening?” 

She knew that voice. She tried to hold back her dismissive short as she unwrapped herself from a too eager Hermes, reaking of wine as he seemed entirely unaware of her disinterest. His hand reached for her hips but was stopped by a rough shove from a very aggravated kore. 

A thorned branch had began wrapping up his forearm, appearing from thin air. Though she probably should have been more focused on the angrily grumbling Hermes currently picking himself up from the floor, she was transfixed on Kore, on the thorns prickling around his skin, on the way his hair had mussed in the panic. 

He was breathtaking, and she found herself wanting to reach out and roam her hands over his exposed chest. Her fingers curled into her palm on instinct, digging into the tender flesh, she bit down on her lip, straightening out her robes in a slight panic as she stepped towards Kore. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Hermes growled through bitten teeth as he filled the space between Hades and Kore, chest puffing as he roughly shoved Kore backwards. He still stood but his mask clapped against the stone floor. 

Kore’s lip curled as his fingers balled into a fist, a challenge Hermes looked all too excited to accept as he braced himself, slapping together the gold cuffs around his wrists as he grinned in anticipation. 

“Shit.” Hades muttered under her breath, “Hermes you need to step down.” 

Almost as if he’d forgotten she was there, he blinked, turning to face her with glassy eyes before turning back to Kore, “What, you’d rather have flower boy in your bed? Your loss.” He snorted, drawing back a fist. 

“I said stop.” Hades growled, fingers curling around his elbow to halt the punch Kore had been waiting for, his blue-green eyes cold as they locked onto Herme’s swaying form. 

“Back off.” Hermes hissed in warning, wrenching his arm from her grip, “What do you give a shit about this moody weirdo for?”

“Let him, it would serve him right to learn to lose.” Kore chided, fists balled at his sides, the thorned branches now sliding up his shoulder and around his slender neck.

“Absolutely not.” Hades hissed, noticing that they were now catching the eyes of the crowd. If anyone from Demeter’s company caught sight of Kore- She loathe to think about the earful she’d receive from his snake of a mother, let alone whatever aftermath would be left for Kore to handle.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Hades scowled, staring down at the unflinching Hades as she tried to control herself. 

“I’m telling you to stop.” Hades snarled, eyes locked onto Hermes. She could feel the warm, wet beads of blood collecting around her balled fist as her eyes bore into the man. 

He lunged, fist drawn and whistling through the air, headed straight for Kore’s face, it would have landed a devastating blow had Hades not kicked out a foot from beneath him, sending him tumbling onto his stomach, face now beet red with anger.  

“How dare you.” Hermes scowled, tossing aside the last of his pride as he grabbed Hades by both forearms, grip bruising as he shook her. 

Her mask slid down, revealing an unimpressed grimace and a set of firey green eyes, boring into Hermes as he slowly released her, raising his hands and stepping back, his head turning around the crowd. 

“I apologize.” Hermes coughed, straightening out his mask as Hades stepped forward, clearly not feeling forgiving as smoke curled around her fingertips, swelling in the space between them, snaking up Hermes, his eyes wide as it washed against his skin, swiping at his hair and tickling his skin. 

“Do you normally make such a fool of yourself?” Hades scowled, shoulders trembling slightly as the smoke thickened, tightening around Herme’s forearms. 

Hermes eyes were locked on the bruises on Hades arms, just beginning to blossom before disappearing into her skin, leaving only smooth ivory flesh behind. Her blonde hair fell around her as she reached out to him, smoke disappearing as her hand struck hard against his cheek. 

“Go collect yourself, and stay out of my sight.” She hissed, turning her back to him as her glare found a very tense Kore, softening at the sight of him. Her fingers brushed along her shoulders anxiously as she stepped toward him, eyes apologetic. 

“I’m sorry, I had wanted tonight to be more enjoyable for you.” 

His shoulders loosened a bit as he straightened out his hair, thorned branches dissolving into nothing as he eyed her, “Night’s not over.” He shrugged, small smirk appearing as his hand found the small of her back, “You can make it up to me.”

She breathed out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her hand finding his. 

“I’d love to-” 

“Hades, it’s been too long!” A familiar voice called, a slender, tanned hand falling over her shoulder and whirled her around. 

Shit. 

She turned her head to catch Kore’s face, stomach sinking dangerously. 

He was gone. 

#ambrosia #it chapter two #bughead #my fic #my fanfic stuff #riverdale #betty cooper #betty x jughead #jughead jones

[treykrimsin]

Thoughts on Free Comic Book Day 2018

Since 2012, I’ve been a part of the large attendance of Acme Comics’ Free Comic Book Day festivities. I got to the line as early as I could on a number of occasions and stood in line to be one of the first hundred or two to get a bag of free comics. After I got in, I would shop inside the store and pick up the books from my pull list. If I planned to stay the day, I would get one free sketch from one of the artists attending the event at one of the other participating stores in the strip. Later, I’d get something to eat at one of the restaurants in the strip and go back to the store to hang out before I finally went home. I would be tired, but I would be elated in the fact that the day was well spent with like-minded people who love the medium of comic books. This year was different. Much different.  The last year had been quite tumultuous for a number or reasons. The sister store, Acme Comics Presents, had closed at the end of last year. Much of the merchandise sold there moved to the main store. Over the last two years, the faces of Acme had changed as well. Old, familiar faces changed to new, somewhat familiar faces These changes weighed heavy on the overall mood of the store environment, but as does many things, time and a little help heals all wounds. Personally, pondering upon the prospect of this year’s FCBD became bittersweet. For the last two years, I was joined by someone who I thought was a good friend and her two kids. We’d stand in line, the kids looking in stores and I’d crack jokes. My lady friend would roll her eyes at my weird, yet funny comments. Everyone had a great time, especially me. I had grown fond of those three people, especially the kids’ mother. This year would be the first year that I would be without their company since the fall out. I looked forward to be in line and enjoy the day’s festivities, but to be able to share that experience with someone I deeply cared about still weighed a bit on my mind. As they say, things change. Last year, the collection to the comic book series I created with Kev Lyerly, The Adventures of Teague: Retail Specialist finally came out after a two-year delay. After talking to Jermaine Exum, the manager at Acme Comics, Teague found a place on the shelves of the store’s independent section. Four out of the initial five copies sold, much to my utter surprise and helped boost my morale. Hearing how well the book sold in the store gave me a great deal of pride. The promotion and hard work were paying off again. Interest was growing again for the book. I began writing more seriously again. Things slowly picked back up to a momentum I had not experienced in at least two years. Then, I got a PM from Jermaine on my Twitter account. He asked me if Kev and I would be interested in showcasing our book and art for Acme’s Free Comic Book Day event. Without hesitation, I said yes, but had to check with Kev on his availability. I immediately switched screens on my computer to Facebook and sent a message. Kev checked his schedule, pondered over it a moment, and said yes. We were in. Ecstatic would be the closest word I could use to describe how I felt about the opportunity presented to us. I started shopping for comics at Acme around 2004. I first attended a FCBD event at Acme in 2010 (I could be wrong about that. I’m not sure). Through the development of Teague, I thought about the prospects of putting a comic book I wrote inside Acme’s walls and being behind a table to promote the book. Now the opportunity to do so was presented to me. I was ready.  But it almost didn’t happen.  Some changes were made to that week’s schedule and I was slated to work that Saturday. My mood fell as if it were on a cliff and the cliff was destroyed by a rocket missile, the rock crumbling beneath me. I went to my store manager, who made the new schedule, and told him about putting in for this day months ago and I was booked to be at this event. He said he would fix the issue and get back with me. This put a big damper on my and Kev’s plans. Kev debated on cancelling, but I told him if I could not do it, he could. This would give him an new audience to showcase to. I did tell him that I would be there one way or another, though. On Monday, I reminded my boss about the schedule and he would work on it. Later that day, he told me that I would get Saturday off (much to my relief), but I would have to work a long Thursday. I told him that was fine with me and I thought “as long as I have Free Comic Book day off, damnit!” Once that was cleared up, the anticipation built. Flash forward to Friday afternoon. Kev picked me up from my house and we were off to Greensboro to set up our table at Smallcakes Cupcakery and Creamery. The owners of Smallcakes were gracious enough to host all the artists who would be attending the event since Acme didn’t have the room to hold all the artists. (We could have sat on top of the back issues...Nah!) We got to the shopping center early and walked to Smallcakes first. Kev and I spoke to the owner of the place after noticing nothing had been set up yet. Keep in mind we were early. So we traversed to Acme and gave them a hand with the set up. Kev and I brought a few chairs from the store to Smallcakes as Acme’s staff were putting up the tables. Once the basic set up was done, it was time to put up our wares. Kev and I set up the bookmark wire stand, the prints, his portfolio, and the Teague trades. All was set for Saturday.

The actual day started a little slow, only because people had to get their free comics first. Around 10:20, people came to Smallcakes and checked out everyone’s table set-ups. People flocked to a few tables like Brian Richardson’s, who usually has a ton of Disney characters which is popular with a lot of kids. Griff Person, who was positioned across from us, had one person immediately stay at his table for almost an hour. We soon got some of the foot traffic and people were snatching up bookmarks. I had a few people look at the book, one or two even peeking inside, but no takers. Despite the lack of sales on my part, I greeted numerous people and helped Kev keep up his half of the table. Spirits continued to be high.  I eventually sold one copy of Teague to a long time Acme customer. She and I talked for at least an hour about books, comic stores, and personal relationships. After signing the book, she started talking with Kev about a mutual acquaintance and I ventured through Smallcakes, looking at the art from the other vendors. I spoke with artists like Colby Ziglar, Brian Richardson, Merryn Kepchar, and another good friend, Rickie Hopkins. We both talked about what has happened in our lives and how it’s affected us personally and professionally. Miscommunication on both sides, especially mine, halted a project I had written and he started art on. Now we’re both re-energized and wiling to get this project back on track. Rickie surprised me twice on this day. First, he gave me a page of the Capital Punishment story we did for Grayhaven Comics in 2015. Then, Rickie did a quick sketch of my character Teague. Surprised and flattered described my feelings on receiving such gifts. Now, I have to find a way to repay him by getting work done on our project in one form or another. After 5pm, Kev and I took down our displays, packed the car, and headed to Acme for a brief visit. We both obtained a bag of free comics and I picked up my stack of comics from my pull box. We talked briefly with a few of the artists and some of the attendants to the event. All seemed to have had a great day. I spoke to Jermaine at the counter and told him how our day went. He was pleased to hear how great a time Kev and I had. As we arrived back in Thomasville, Both Kev and I took time to relax, eat, and bask in the good vibes we had joking around with each other, playing a little music before the day ended, and talking blaxploitation flims with Jody Merriman after I played Curtis Mayfield’s Superfly.  Overall, what a day it was. For me, this was a bit of a milestone for me. I credit Acme Comics and its manager Jermaine Exum in part for getting me seriously interested in comic books again and for piquing my interest in writing comic books. Over the years, I’ve seen the community he’s built at Acme and I have enjoyed being a part of it whenever I stepped through the door. This Free Comic Book Day was proof of how the Acme Comics community nurtures the creativity, the drive, and the interest of creators and fans alike. This sense of community was clearly noted by Kev, who has been jaded by other comic book retailers over the years. He left Acme that day impressed by the nurturing and supportive environment Jermaine and his staff create on Free Comic Book Day.  I personally have to thank Jermaine, Austin, Pete, Ryce, and the rest of the Acme Comics staff who took a chance to carry The Adventures of Teague and giving it support. I also thank them for giving me and Kev the opportunity to promote ourselves, our art and books, and to be around such a positive environment. The comics community can be callous, unappreciative, and unsupportive at times. It’s good to know there still are places a comics creator can go and feel a sense of belonging and love for comics, especially on Free Comic Book Day.

#fcbd2018 #FCBDatAcme TeagueSays supportlocalcomiccreators

[wearethegoodlife]

TheGoodLife! “Camp Nice” 2017 – Super Re-Cap Extravaganza!

Have you ever wished you could go back to some of the experiences of your youth but in your adult body with all the wisdom and sense of self you’ve acquired since? We have too. And as firm believers that anything is possible, we’ve taken it a step further and turned that wish into a reality! Welcome to Camp Nice, the ultimate summer camp for adults! What started as an idea for a little camp excursion for the autumnal equinox has evolved over the past four years into a one of a kind communal adventure for family and friends of TheGoodLife! This year was far and beyond the most epic Camp Nice yet! Moving to a new location nestled in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains along the Great Appalachian Valley, Camp Nice 2017 was a private wilderness paradise that included a lake and fleet of boats, miles of hiking terrain, an archery range, an arts & crafts hut, even a haunted cabin in the woods! On top of that there were literally acres of available camping zones, a central cabin village, and both bathing and kitchen facilities meaning campers could go as camp or as glamp as they wanted, no judgement here! If that wasn’t enough, we had the generous support of Burton Snowboards, Cutty Sark Whisky, ABK Beer, and Unreal Snacks, who all contributed in major ways to amplify the Camp Nice experience. From Burton providing extensive camping equipment from their collection with Big Agnes to Cutty Sark throwing a multi-course “Pioneer Dinner” cooked over the fire to ABK keeping Camp Nice hydrated with beer for a week to Unreal Snacks hooking up the best s’mores this side of the Mississippi, this years sponsors were next level. And so were the campers. Representing the wide diversity of TheGoodLife! Fam, 2017’s crop of campers were a radical group of artists, musicians, photographers, models, writers, chefs, activists, and athletes, whose collective creative energy was unmatched. Needless to say, we created some beyond epic experiences! Please settle in and get ready for some major camp vibes as we present the Camp Nice Super Re-Cap Extravaganza! All film photography by Craig Wetherby. Words by Tim Brodhagen. Can’t wait for next year!!

Calling all campers…

Yung Sig was one of the first to arrive…

And she got settled in pretty nice at her lakeside tent zone in the Burton x Big Agnes classic!

Next up was Akira & Amaya…

Our new camp mascot Hubert the Heron swooped on by for a sunset welcome…

While Siggy earned the first Boating Badge!

Akira & Amaya got right on Fire Badge duty as soon as the sun set…

Fire Badge EARNED!

Welcome to CAMP NICE! We have arrived!!

The ambitious duo were up bright and early to earn their Fishing Badges!

Captain Blue was there at weigh in to make sure they had some keepers!

Blue popped up the Red Hook Snack Bar and got his Grill Master Badge on with the quickness!

Tono was enjoying the goodness!

Becky, Bree & Cass got theirs!

And so did Rata…YUM!

You know Pat wasn’t sleeping on this either.

Then it was time to start smoking the meat for the Cutty Sark Pioneer Grill!

YUP! Very official!

And might as well add some ABK Beer to the mix!

We were definitely STOCKED UP!

Plenty of Cutty to go around too!

As we got into the night the drinks started flowing!

Blue was focused!

But it was well worth the wait! We all eat right at Camp Nice!

Very NICE!

Thanks to John & Jennifer for getting down with us!

Oscar the Owl was feeling the Cutty merch too!

Now it was S’Mores time! And our friends at Unreal came thru with the healthy vegan goodness!

WHOA!!!

S’MORE PLEASE!!

Toasted bagels were definitely on the breakfast menu!

Our library got a nice upgrade this year with Ricky Powell’s latest creation The Individualist! Thank you!

Yup! Even The Lazy Hustler came thru this year!

Next up was Arts & Crafts time with some custom Camp Nice screen printing with Tono!

Heather whipped up a nice one!

Everyone got their tie dye on!

Blotto got busy!

These guys were earning all the badges!

Erika was a pro!

Chenoah got crafty with it too! Thank you Cass!

Petey aka DJ Smoke L.E.S. was in the house!

Joe’s Pizza!

Arts & Crafts Badges for all!

All the colors were definitely pretty trippy…

Now it was time to earn some Archery Badges with Coach Becky!

These guys were on another level!

Hannah was a sharp shooter..

And so was Timbo!

Emma was pretty on point!

Blotto had that eagle eye!

It was unseasonably hot out so we had to get back in the water! Hannah couldn’t wait!

Siggy & Sable were ready to go!

Chenoah was down too!

Cass was doing it right!

Even tho Pat was trying to harsh her mellow…

Looked very refreshing!

  After some fun in the sun it was time start chilling hard in the hammock. Hannah earned her Rigging Badge!

Pat didn’t waste any time…after all he had a very chillactive day!

Cass was down too!

Catch of the Day!

Paella Time!

Thats right…

OOOF!

Sunsets were proper!

Moonsets were better!

But Becky’s Dutch Oven Peach Cobbler was even better…

Becky is kinda the BEST if you haven’t heard…

She’s always down for an adventure…

FEARLESS!

Siggy & Sable are pretty badass too!

YEAHERRR!!!

Cass got higher than most…

Emma earned style points…

TJ dropped in!

Sable got her eagle on!

Too much fun ! ! !

Sebas was a natural!

Aimz was glowing with joy!

Teamwork makes the dream work! Especially when wearing Pats Pants!!

But wait…Back to Becky…She even shoots arrows in a kimono!!

WINNING AT LIFE!

Miranda stays WINNING!

And so does Erika!

TJ was winning too!

Jesse thought he had the advantage with his non-regulation sharp shooter specs on but got disqualified…

TJ clinched the big WIN!

Archery Badge EARNED!

After a rough day at the archery range The Zen Brothers got their midnight lakeside set crackin!

Next morning Amie was first one to step up to get her Fire Badge…

EARNED!!

George liked to sleep late…

Rise & Shine!

Mermaid Badges were waiting to be earned…

Siggy earned hers!

Now time to earn some more Boating Badges…right after this quick photo shoot tho! Brian was getting it in!

Chenoah earned her Boating Badge…

So did Pat & Cass…

All the pups were trying to earn their Boating Badges too!

They were out in full force!

Ranger Larry even took our camp kitty out for a cruise! Willy B just wanted some fish!!

Boating Badge EARNED!

Now time to chill…

Or keep earning more badges…

Nothing gets by Sig Nasty! Gaming Badge EARNED!

TheGoodLife! FC was representing at Camp Nice!

Miranda’s been down since day one!

Willy B knows whats up!

Bree luvs the pups…

Mo loves everyone!

And Willy B loves hunting for chipmunks!

Miranda loves knitting!

Amaya was all love!

Sam is lovely…

Camp Nice is for lovers…

No haters allowed! G-O-O-D-L-I-F-E-!

It was the chillest of chill…

NAMASTE!

And all that good shit…

Speaking of good shit…EDAN brought those records of warmth for our enjoyment…

Ricky was digging the selections!

And EDAN stayed digging for those gems!

Life was lovely!

Blotto’s breakfast tacos were lovely too!

And so is Bree…

Willy gets all the lovin…

Ricky wasn’t mad…

Saftey First says the Substitute Lifeguard…

No worries here…

Blue kept on reeling ’em in!

Pat was just cruizin…

Fun activities for everyone!

Who’s got next??

Still got game…

The Pasta Queens came ready to ball!

Sam got an ill jumpshot!

And they didn’t play around in the kitchen either…

Pasta for everyone! Cooking Badge EARNED!

BOOM!!

More S’Mores!

Best dessert ever!

Then things got LIT!

The tunes were perfect! The Dardy’s came thru!

Then it was time to go find the haunted cabin!

Things started to get weird!

We all needed a hug after that experience…

The freaks definitely come out at night!

The rest of the VT Crew finally joined us and Ranger Larry was there with the warm welcome.

Matt Kruz of the Gnarmads rode his bike up from NYC to join in the festivities! Beer Badge EARNED!!

Ricky definitely earned his Beer Badge too!

Pat shredded every obstacle he found!

And The Dardy’s were showing off their skills too!

Jozie brought her A-Game!

Amanda had a mean shot too!

Back down at the lake water sports were in full effect!

It was popping!

Spirits were definitely high!

Blue was in the zone!

We eat what we catch!

And then we play!

Horseshoe Champs!

Gaming Badge EARNED!

Fireside Stick & Poke…Arts & crafts Badge EARNED!

Mermaid Badge EARNED!

We couldn’t ask for a nicer night! The moon set over the lake was EPIC!

As the morning approached the fog slowly rolled in…

It was pretty eerie but beautiful…

Misty Mornings

Pat was losing his grip…

Emel was in rare form…

Chenoah, The High Priestess, was taking it all in…

Break Night Badge EARNED!

Farnum showed up and decided to move right in! Camp Nice for LIFE!

It wasn’t bad at all…

We weren’t quite ready to leave just yet…

So we grabbed our trusty cruisers and headed down for a final wood run! Thank you Shimano Bike NYC!

It was all downhill from here…

Woodsman Squad!

Everyone pitched in…

Ranger Larry put in some quality time but had to break out….

One last paddle around the lake to say peace to our homie Hubert…

Really gonna miss these Strawberry Sunsets…

And we OUT!

Final catch!

Not to shabby!

Blue was happy!

Set them free…

Last light!

Camp Nice was exceptionally nice this year…

All our hard work definitely paid off but it was now time to finally say goodbye…

Major THANK YOU to all those who supported and survived CAMP NICE! Til next year…

#ABK Beer #burton snowboards #Camp Nice #Camping #Cutty Sark #Glamping #Unreal Snacks

[ryancanedy]

Family-Friendly & Classic Halloween Décor

Danielle Driscoll of Finding Silver Pennies has always loved celebrating Halloween. As a part of the Halloween/Harvest Style Challenge, we sent Danielle classic Halloween décor and let her make it her own.

Read on to find out how Danielle achieved a classic Halloween look that is also family friendly.

Family-Friendly Halloween Décor

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. When I was a little girl my mom used to make me the most elaborate costumes – a mermaid, a wicked witch with a green face mask (ouch! It tightened on my face as I trick or treated around the neighborhood), a bride, Michael Jackson. I was always so excited to get dressed up and go out that I didn’t even want to eat dinner.

Fast forward a few decades and I still feel exactly the same way about Halloween. It’s rubbed off on my boys. They love getting dressed up and decorating our home.

They played a huge role helping decorate our home in this challenge. In fact, our oldest drew the witch that we used to create the silhouette.

We live in a coastal town and everyone here is crazy for Halloween. The main street in the harbor is shut off to traffic and the merchants fling open their doors for early trick or treating. Once it gets dark, people come up our hill to continue Halloween!

For The Home Depot Halloween Style Challenge I knew I wanted to focus on classic Hallowee décor to go with our historic home. I also didn’t want to make it look too scary or gory.

When the surprise box from The Home Depot arrived, I was so excited because it came with amazingly realistic 36 in. LED Tombstone Assortment (Set of 4), a fog machine, fog machine liquid and a fog tube accessory kit.

My boys were so excited about the fog machine, as was I, because it instantly adds a creepy, Halloween vibe. We had so much fun playing with it and the gravestones. The gravestones light up, which is fun at night, too.

We got busy planning out our haunted front yard.

DIY Witch Silhouette

We created a witch based on our son’s sketch. In his sketch he included a cat and a cauldron.

Materials

¾-in. Plywood

Jigsaw

Rustoleum All Surface Satin Black with Paint and Primer

Step 1

First, sketch out some ideas on paper. We all were drawing witches and cats. Then we enlarged the sketch using a photocopier. In order to scale the drawing for a large silhouette we created a grid on the drawing.

Step 2

Second, enlarge the drawing onto plywood. We used pressure treated wood because we thought it would last longer in the elements. We used ¾-in. plywood because it’s sturdier. Create a grid on the plywood to match your grid on the paper. Draw image in chalk.

Step 3

Third, go over the chalk with a sharpie pen. Once you start cutting out the silhouette the motion of the saw might shake off your chalk. Sharpie is also easier to see while you’re cutting.

Step 4

Fourth, use a jigsaw cut out the silhouette.

Step 5

Fifth, paint the silhouette with black spray paint, we used Rustoleum’s All Surface Satin Black with Paint and Primer in one.  I love this spray paint because of the specialty designed nozzle – my finger doesn’t get tired and I don’t get paint all over my hands. Allow it to dry.

Step 6

Finally, build a support (see below for step-by-step instructions).

Isn’t she spooky! We love her nose!

How to Build a Support for the Witch

Step 1

First, create an L shape with two lengths of 2 x 4 connecting with a pocket hole, we used the Kreg Jig to create the pocket hole.

Step 2

Second, cut a length of 2 x 4 with 45° cuts at each end.

Step 3

Third, use pythagorus calculate to determine where the diagonal should go. Position = square root of (length of diagonal squared/2). This ensures that the L shape is square.

Step 4

Fourth, attach hinges to one side of the vertical of the L support, and then attach to the back of the witch. Ensure that the bottom of the support is square with the bottom of the witch.

Pro Tip: The best way to make sure of this is to run a square along the bottom of the witch, and up the back, then place the support along the square edge

Step 5

Finally, attach a hook to opposite side of the support. To make sure that it stays open, attach the eye to the back of the witch.

The fog machine adds to the effect as does the gravestones.

Next up we thought it would be fun to make paper lanterns to line our brick walkway to lead the way up to our front door. These were so easy to make and didn’t cost much at all.

DIY Paper Lanterns

The Home Depot has really cute Halloween stencils that are miniature and great for smaller projects. They’d be cute on treat bags for a halloween party, banners, pillows or lanterns as we created. I picked up some paper lunch bags to stencil.

Step 1

First, separate your stencils. Line up stencil on a bag. You can use tape to hold it in place, but I just held it with my finger.

Step 2

Second, use black paint. I stenciled the images onto the bags using a stencil brush.

Step 3

Pro Tip: Offload most of the paint onto a paper towel from your stencil brush before stenciling. This prevents paint bleeding under the stencil and you’ll get a crisp image.

Third, weigh the bags down with rocks or stones. We used beach rocks.

Step 4

Finally, place a faux tea light in each one. This is safer than real candles and can be used multiple times.

It’s more fun with a little ninja helper, too!

Here you can see the pretty lanterns lining our walkway to greet trick or treaters.

DIY Nature-Inspired Fall Wreath

The other DIY project we did was a wreath for the front door. I wanted to do something inspired by nature and I had a branch wreath down in the basement.

Step 1

First, use black spray paint (the same as you did for the witch) to give the natural twig wreath a spooky feel.

Step 2

Then, dismantle an ostrich duster to use the feathers for the wreath. I used one duster for this wreath. I applied the feathers using hot glue (be careful not to burn your hand).

Step 3

Finally, you can embellish your wreath. I like to keep things simple so I left it has it is, but you could stick on crows, bones, skulls or whatever you’d like to use.

Here is a closer look at the wreath.

Here it is on the door.

Front Door Spiders

You’ll notice we added some spiders to our door. We wanted to give the appearance of spiders crawling across it.

We used WallPOP’s little spiders. We stuck them to the door and painted the trim surrounding it. They were so easy to apply, remove and reposition where needed. This is a great job for little ones to help with. My little Conor (the ninja) loved helping put the spiders on.

I wish you could hear him giggling as he did it. It was so sweet.

Add More Halloween Décor

Here’s a look at our yard decorated for Halloween.

We added a bag of bones in front of the gravestones. This set was great and came with an assortment of may different kind of bones, even some dinosaur bones! The kids were excited about that. I think each set is different. This skeleton’s eyes light up and are so creepy. I’ll show you them lit up a bit later on.

Our front steps are decorated with pumpkins and some fun lanterns from The Home Depot. These LED lanterns are battery operated. They give a spooky look once lit. They also look cute during the day. We used ones with spiders and witches to match our DIY witch.

Ferns and potato vines in our planters add softness to the overall look.

Each fall we carve pumpkins, but if you’re very busy and have a lot going on, The Home Depot has a few already cut, like this one. It is easy to plug in and gave lots of light without the worry of candles.

I also placed a caged raven on an old vintage stool. He talks and is so life-like.

Final Reveal

We enjoyed celebrating Halloween a tad earlier this year. It made it twice as fun!

The fog machine really adds to the ambience. I have a feeling we’re going to be using it a lot leading up to Halloween.

Here’s a look at some nighttime shots our new Halloween décor lit up.

See how eerie it looks at night with the red eyes on the skeleton and gravestone.

Add a little fog.

And DIY lanterns to light the way to lots of treats!

We can’t wait for Halloween now that all our DIY is done! I hope this gave you a few ideas of fun ways you can make your front yard more festive with your kids.

A huge thank you to The Home Depot for inviting me to take part in the Style Challenge. I had so much fun with my boys creating a spooky and classic Halloween front porch. Happy Halloween, everyone!

For more DIY Halloween and harvest ideas, see other articles in our Halloween Style Challenge series, and follow our Halloween Style Challenge board on Pinterest.

Visit The Home Depot’s online Halloween Décor Department for everything you need to decorate your home for Halloween and fall. Check out other scary skeleton decorations at The Home Depot.

The post Family-Friendly & Classic Halloween Décor appeared first on The Home Depot Blog.

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#Home Improvement

[sherlocked-avenger]

Family-Friendly & Classic Halloween Décor

Danielle Driscoll of Finding Silver Pennies has always loved celebrating Halloween. As a part of the Halloween/Harvest Style Challenge, we sent Danielle classic Halloween décor and let her make it her own.

Read on to find out how Danielle achieved a classic Halloween look that is also family friendly.

Family-Friendly Halloween Décor

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. When I was a little girl my mom used to make me the most elaborate costumes – a mermaid, a wicked witch with a green face mask (ouch! It tightened on my face as I trick or treated around the neighborhood), a bride, Michael Jackson. I was always so excited to get dressed up and go out that I didn’t even want to eat dinner.

Fast forward a few decades and I still feel exactly the same way about Halloween. It’s rubbed off on my boys. They love getting dressed up and decorating our home.

They played a huge role helping decorate our home in this challenge. In fact, our oldest drew the witch that we used to create the silhouette.

We live in a coastal town and everyone here is crazy for Halloween. The main street in the harbor is shut off to traffic and the merchants fling open their doors for early trick or treating. Once it gets dark, people come up our hill to continue Halloween!

For The Home Depot Halloween Style Challenge I knew I wanted to focus on classic Hallowee décor to go with our historic home. I also didn’t want to make it look too scary or gory.

When the surprise box from The Home Depot arrived, I was so excited because it came with amazingly realistic 36 in. LED Tombstone Assortment (Set of 4), a fog machine, fog machine liquid and a fog tube accessory kit.

My boys were so excited about the fog machine, as was I, because it instantly adds a creepy, Halloween vibe. We had so much fun playing with it and the gravestones. The gravestones light up, which is fun at night, too.

We got busy planning out our haunted front yard.

DIY Witch Silhouette

We created a witch based on our son’s sketch. In his sketch he included a cat and a cauldron.

Materials

¾-in. Plywood

Jigsaw

Rustoleum All Surface Satin Black with Paint and Primer

Step 1

First, sketch out some ideas on paper. We all were drawing witches and cats. Then we enlarged the sketch using a photocopier. In order to scale the drawing for a large silhouette we created a grid on the drawing.

Step 2

Second, enlarge the drawing onto plywood. We used pressure treated wood because we thought it would last longer in the elements. We used ¾-in. plywood because it’s sturdier. Create a grid on the plywood to match your grid on the paper. Draw image in chalk.

Step 3

Third, go over the chalk with a sharpie pen. Once you start cutting out the silhouette the motion of the saw might shake off your chalk. Sharpie is also easier to see while you’re cutting.

Step 4

Fourth, use a jigsaw cut out the silhouette.

Step 5

Fifth, paint the silhouette with black spray paint, we used Rustoleum’s All Surface Satin Black with Paint and Primer in one.  I love this spray paint because of the specialty designed nozzle – my finger doesn’t get tired and I don’t get paint all over my hands. Allow it to dry.

Step 6

Finally, build a support (see below for step-by-step instructions).

Isn’t she spooky! We love her nose!

How to Build a Support for the Witch

Step 1

First, create an L shape with two lengths of 2 x 4 connecting with a pocket hole, we used the Kreg Jig to create the pocket hole.

Step 2

Second, cut a length of 2 x 4 with 45° cuts at each end.

Step 3

Third, use pythagorus calculate to determine where the diagonal should go. Position = square root of (length of diagonal squared/2). This ensures that the L shape is square.

Step 4

Fourth, attach hinges to one side of the vertical of the L support, and then attach to the back of the witch. Ensure that the bottom of the support is square with the bottom of the witch.

Pro Tip: The best way to make sure of this is to run a square along the bottom of the witch, and up the back, then place the support along the square edge

Step 5

Finally, attach a hook to opposite side of the support. To make sure that it stays open, attach the eye to the back of the witch.

The fog machine adds to the effect as does the gravestones.

Next up we thought it would be fun to make paper lanterns to line our brick walkway to lead the way up to our front door. These were so easy to make and didn’t cost much at all.

DIY Paper Lanterns

The Home Depot has really cute Halloween stencils that are miniature and great for smaller projects. They’d be cute on treat bags for a halloween party, banners, pillows or lanterns as we created. I picked up some paper lunch bags to stencil.

Step 1

First, separate your stencils. Line up stencil on a bag. You can use tape to hold it in place, but I just held it with my finger.

Step 2

Second, use black paint. I stenciled the images onto the bags using a stencil brush.

Step 3

Pro Tip: Offload most of the paint onto a paper towel from your stencil brush before stenciling. This prevents paint bleeding under the stencil and you’ll get a crisp image.

Third, weigh the bags down with rocks or stones. We used beach rocks.

Step 4

Finally, place a faux tea light in each one. This is safer than real candles and can be used multiple times.

It’s more fun with a little ninja helper, too!

Here you can see the pretty lanterns lining our walkway to greet trick or treaters.

DIY Nature-Inspired Fall Wreath

The other DIY project we did was a wreath for the front door. I wanted to do something inspired by nature and I had a branch wreath down in the basement.

Step 1

First, use black spray paint (the same as you did for the witch) to give the natural twig wreath a spooky feel.

Step 2

Then, dismantle an ostrich duster to use the feathers for the wreath. I used one duster for this wreath. I applied the feathers using hot glue (be careful not to burn your hand).

Step 3

Finally, you can embellish your wreath. I like to keep things simple so I left it has it is, but you could stick on crows, bones, skulls or whatever you’d like to use.

Here is a closer look at the wreath.

Here it is on the door.

Front Door Spiders

You’ll notice we added some spiders to our door. We wanted to give the appearance of spiders crawling across it.

We used WallPOP’s little spiders. We stuck them to the door and painted the trim surrounding it. They were so easy to apply, remove and reposition where needed. This is a great job for little ones to help with. My little Conor (the ninja) loved helping put the spiders on.

I wish you could hear him giggling as he did it. It was so sweet.

Add More Halloween Décor

Here’s a look at our yard decorated for Halloween.

We added a bag of bones in front of the gravestones. This set was great and came with an assortment of may different kind of bones, even some dinosaur bones! The kids were excited about that. I think each set is different. This skeleton’s eyes light up and are so creepy. I’ll show you them lit up a bit later on.

Our front steps are decorated with pumpkins and some fun lanterns from The Home Depot. These LED lanterns are battery operated. They give a spooky look once lit. They also look cute during the day. We used ones with spiders and witches to match our DIY witch.

Ferns and potato vines in our planters add softness to the overall look.

Each fall we carve pumpkins, but if you’re very busy and have a lot going on, The Home Depot has a few already cut, like this one. It is easy to plug in and gave lots of light without the worry of candles.

I also placed a caged raven on an old vintage stool. He talks and is so life-like.

Final Reveal

We enjoyed celebrating Halloween a tad earlier this year. It made it twice as fun!

The fog machine really adds to the ambience. I have a feeling we’re going to be using it a lot leading up to Halloween.

Here’s a look at some nighttime shots our new Halloween décor lit up.

See how eerie it looks at night with the red eyes on the skeleton and gravestone.

Add a little fog.

And DIY lanterns to light the way to lots of treats!

We can’t wait for Halloween now that all our DIY is done! I hope this gave you a few ideas of fun ways you can make your front yard more festive with your kids.

A huge thank you to The Home Depot for inviting me to take part in the Style Challenge. I had so much fun with my boys creating a spooky and classic Halloween front porch. Happy Halloween, everyone!

For more DIY Halloween and harvest ideas, see other articles in our Halloween Style Challenge series, and follow our Halloween Style Challenge board on Pinterest.

Visit The Home Depot’s online Halloween Décor Department for everything you need to decorate your home for Halloween and fall. Check out other scary skeleton decorations at The Home Depot.

The post Family-Friendly & Classic Halloween Décor appeared first on The Home Depot Blog.

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