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#is it due to spending all my formatives years watching edits of the black family members with Marina as a soundtrack
silriven · 1 year
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The Vow Eternal
This is an edit of my compiled thoughts and favorite quotes originally posted in a readthrough on Twitter about The Vow Eternal, the new short story that features Wrathion.
*sighs, rolls up sleeves, cracks knuckles*
Alright.  Let's see what we've got.
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First off, I love the cover art.  After 2+ years of low key dreading that when Wrathion made his post-BfA return, it would be as a villain or antagonist, it's been pretty nice to see him depicted heroically, even enveloped in a golden glow.  We've really been spoiled with good art for him this expansion, which hasn't even come out yet.
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No. I must not look up. But no sooner did he think it than he began to twist and shriek. Metal plating spread over him, containing him as he contorted into a form less of solid flesh than of liquid fire.  When the horrifying transformation was complete, the monster he had become, fueled by hatred and rage, opened its massive iron jaws. “There is no Wrathion!” the thing of metal and magma cried. The voice was dreadful, heart-stopping, and . . . familiar.  “There is only I, Deathwing—now and always,” Wrathion found himself hissing. But it was not his mouth. He watched, helpless, as the Aspects swooped to attack him, as the black dragons doubled back to blast him, their old enemy made anew . . .  All they saw was Deathwing.
...ok, to start, I am pleasantly surprised that we're kicking off with the implications that Wrathion regularly has Deathwing body horror nightmares, a type of Wrathion angst that is very near and dear to my heart.  Good, strong start.  
Short story: 1
Silriven's dignity: 0
Wrathion composing himself after shouting out in his sleep is a nice touch.   It's also interesting to note that Wrathion drinks a lot of wine...or at least has been recently.  Also, he's spending time at the Horde inn at the Shrine of Two Moons, rather than the Alliance inn.  Maybe he’s also giving The Tavern in the Mists a wide birth because he hasn’t reconciled with Tong, though I’d like to think that the Black Prince, not unlike the Lannisters, always repays his debts...eventually.
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Wrathion scoffed. The pleasure of your company. Ha! This wedding was a monumental event in Azeroth’s history—the joining of two powerful leaders—and yet he knew he had been invited only as a courtesy. No one in Azeroth really wanted a black dragon—especially him—at any sort of grand occasion. It was good political theater to trot out someone so instrumental in defeating the old god N’Zoth and saving the world, but neither the couple nor their high-profile guests would deem being in his company a pleasure.
So far I think I'm on board with Wrathion being self conscious about attending a social event like this, it makes sense.  Credit where credit's due, I have to say it's also nice seeing attention drawn to his role in N'zoth's defeat instead of dwelling on War Crimes/WoD.
Wrathion crumpled the scroll with unnecessary vigor and flung it into a corner. Weddings were notoriously sappy affairs, and this one was likely to be especially so. According to the reports of his Black Talon operatives, it was a true love match, one that had blazed to a flame during a poetry competition, of all things. There would be other giggling, happy pairs; families with their giddy children; old friends reuniting.
Positively stomach-churning.
This is how I also feel about Lor'themar & Thalyssra's great big heterosexual wedding getting center stage so no complaints here.
There was High Chieftain Baine Bloodhoof, who, Wrathion observed with a sly grin, came with Mayla Highmountain.
Jesus, and people make fun of shippers for pairing two people who have just stood next to each other.  Sorry, I really would be enjoying this a little more if it was like, Shaw and Flynn's wedding or something.  Joking aside, I like the implication that Wrathion keeps up with Horde gossip, or maybe this comes from Ebyssian passing on Highmountain gossip to his brother.
In the past, Wrathion had sought to protect Azeroth by pitting Horde and Alliance against one another, in order to determine which side was the mightier. Now he understood that the fate of the world hung not on conquest but on collaboration.
Character growth, we love to see it.  I think this is one thing that most WoW players don’t understand is that the betrayal is a feature of Wrathion x Anduin, not a bug.
Anduin, the king of Stormwind who had been absent from that role over the past few years, had always believed permanent peace was possible between the two factions. He had worked toward that goal with a quiet tenacity that Wrathion had admired. After the Fourth War, Anduin’s hope had become a cautious reality.
There's something kind of poignant about the Horde and the Alliance finally gathering together in peace and Anduin, someone who's fought hard for this, being absent and unable to experience it.
At this point, overall, I'm surprised by how much I don't hate this.  Roguish Wrathion deciding to utilize the party to listen for "tidbits" of interesting conversation is good, Taelia being awed to meet him is good, Kalec being happy to see him is also good.  Fairshaw cameo is...better than nothing I suppose.
Taelia’s eyes widened, and she took a step toward him. “I am honored to meet you. I hear the world owes you great thanks.”
Seriously, Taelia x Wrathion shippers come get your JUICE 😍
Wrathion spread out his arms as he strode toward them. “Magni!” he cried, genuinely glad to have spotted him, for the two had worked together to defeat N’Zoth.
“Och! Wrathion! Come here, laddie, an’ let me introduce ye to my family. Me brothers, Muradin and Brann, and me dear daughter, Moira.”
“I of course know all your names,” Wrathion said with a dashing wink. It was true. “And what a pleasure to finally meet you,” he added, taking in the lively bunch.
“Oh, we know about you too!” Moira said. “Me da here willna shut up!”
Wrathion was caught off guard. Such a warm welcome almost undid him. The feeling was . . . contagious.
So this section right here, where Magni and his family give Wrathion a warm welcome like this and Wrathion is taken back by it?  This is the moment where my stone cold heart defrosted.  I still think Wrathion’s familial connection to Blackrock Mountain and the Dark Iron dwarves would be a great thing for World of Warcraft to explore.
Wrathion understood not having many friends—or any friends. He’d never truly been a child; he had grown so swiftly and been driven by so dark a purpose that there had been no time for play. Of course, a childhood disrupted by wars and conflicts didn’t help. Meeting Anduin in Pandaria had been both a gift and a curse. A gift, because Wrathion had learned that someone, anyone, might deem him worth caring for. A curse, because Wrathion had chosen to exploit Anduin’s trust in an ill-conceived attempt to protect Azeroth. They had met again years later, and that encounter had been . . . Well, suffice it to say Anduin had a much better right cross than Wrathion had given him credit for. He hoped they could reconcile once Anduin returned from . . . wherever he was.
Wrathion drained his glass, and the strange ache in his chest returned.
This is the really interesting bit, the part where Wrathion addresses Anduin directly.  I think hell has frozen over or I'm reading something incorrectly because this reads like confirmation that Anduin cared for Wrathion and that Wrathion feels heartache when he thinks about that.  It’s unexpected and...honestly, pleasant.
Kurog kept going, scrutinizing him. “How were you made, Wrathion? Cobbled together out of pieces of corpses? You and your depraved kin . . . You are the very symbol of all that has gone wrong in this world.” While most onlookers murmured in shock at Kurog’s words, Wrathion heard a voice from deep in the crowd cheering the tauren on.
A chill ran through Wrathion, but not from the voice of dissent in the crowd. Rather, from the peculiarity that a shaman would know this bit of awfully specific information. He wondered if he was the reason the tauren had decided to show up . . .
This part was also interesting, too, I wonder how the shaman found out this information or if it will come up again.  I kind of respected and liked how blunt this was, if they were going to keep Wrathion’s strange origins as is, it was a good way to utilize that information during this tense scene.  I think it also made for a good lead-in to the part where Wrathion looses his temper.  Something like this, so personal and said in public, in front of high ranking members of both the Horde and the Alliance, would make him loose his temper.
“You’re very kind, but I should have realized that my presence here would be . . . provocative . . . to some. I hope this did not tarnish your memories of this most joyful occasion. I must depart, and I wish you both nothing but happiness for all your days.”
They did not protest.
“I owe you my thanks,” Baine chimed in. “Kurog is a powerful shaman. He—”
Wrathion held up a hand, flashing a charming smile. “No need for thanks.” The black dragon bowed, straightened his shoulders, and strode off without another word.
Ouch 💔
“Kalecgos! What do you wish of me?”
The blue dragon lifted a bottle of arcwine and two glasses. “Some help in drinking this fine vintage.”
Kalec comforting Wrathion is sweet, so is Wrathion returning the favor.  I don’t ship the two but I cheer it on enthusiastically from the sidelines.  At least you don’t get the jokes about Anduin being a domestic abuser over there.
So at this point I started getting worknight tired and was a little distracted by figuring out that the mechanics/metaphor of the heartache that Wrathion has been feeling throughout the story are a literal affliction, the pull of the Dragon Isles on all of dragonkind to come home.  I didn’t really appreciate the weight of the next part until I read the short story a second time the following day.  I thought that Wrathion’s pain was going to be explained as him not recognizing what perfectly ordinary heartache is, but then Kalecgos is revealed to have the same feeling in addition to other dragons who have congregated at Wyrmrest.
Alexstrasza stepped forward and, as if there was not and never had been mistrust or resentment between them, gently placed a hand on his face. To his own surprise, he allowed it, comprehending that the significance of this moment transcended any quarrels.
“Young one,” the Dragon Queen said, exchanging a sage look with Nozdormu, “you have heard the call . . . and you have answered.”
Wrathion did not understand. “The call?”
“Yes, the call,” she said, speaking to all of those standing closely around her. “One long awaited. All of us—here, below, anywhere in the world—we have all been called, and we have heard it with our hearts. The Dragon Isles are awaiting our return.”
“But . . .” Wrathion shook his head, still not comprehending.
“Wrathion,” she said softly, “you are homesick.”
The ache. The desperate longing for something he had never had.
“Homesick?”
The Dragon Isles had never been denied to him. They were only waiting. For him, and for every other dragon in Azeroth. His people. Wrathion had not been excluded.
He was being welcomed.
He belonged.
This?  This bit is nice.  Wrathion being accepted and welcomed by the dragons, especially their queen, truly, for lack of a better phrase, sparks joy.  The one-two punch of Wrathion realizing that he is homesick for a home he never had and then feeling welcomed by other dragons as a part of the family does land emotionally, at least for me.  My one quibble is I wish Ebyssian was included in this moment, being the first dragon that Wrathion sees as family.  Ebyssian is curiously absent in this short story, though it juggles so many characters as it is.
I think this also reframes the later questline in Dragonflight proper where Sabellian is questioning Wrathion's right to seek the title of Aspect, knowing that Alexstrasza and other dragons of Azeroth, like Kalecgos, do accept him as he is and as one of their own.  It softens how harsh this interaction is, when you take into consideration that Wrathion’s mother was forced to breed by the Red Dragonflight and her whelps, including Wrathion, were experimented on with the end goal of curing the Black Dragonflight of the Old Gods’ corruption.  This is the one obscure lore fact that I keep hammering on, sorry, I know it gets old but
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[ “Everything not saved will be lost. - Quit screen message, Nintendo ]
I don't think we were going to get a satisfying resolution to the old conflicts between the Red and the Black Dragonflights, one that addressed the experiments done to Nyxondra's children for example, so in my opinion this isn't a bad way to start fresh.  I kind of don’t want this game to touch the subject of forced dragon breeding again.  The way this MMORPG approaches its story doesn’t lend the kind of nuance and gravitas you need to tackle a story like that in good taste.  Let's have a new narrative.
Overall I really liked this short story.  I think this is better characterization than the snippets I’ve seen from the so far from the Obsidian Citadel questline in the alpha/beta, or at least complements it better.  I’m also a little self conscious because, to be honest, after Shadowlands, my expectations for Dragonflight have been practically on the floor.  World of Warcraft can be hard to talk about, too, because content comes out at such a slow drip feed, there's a lot of excitement when things drop.  I've been looking forward to the possibility of a Wrathion short story for a while so I'm also trying not to get too swept away in the hype.  Still, Wrathion enduring both a wedding and its guests is a fun ride.
tldr; Wrathion needs more gentle touches to his face, I can get behind this short story.
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justblaterando · 2 years
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If they ever do a tv show on the most noble and ancient house of black I think they should use “Electra Hearts” and “The Family Jewels” as seasons themes.
Each episode should be named after a song of the album of the season, the first episode of the first season should start with “Are you satisfied?” and the last one of the season sould be “Guilty” ecc.
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jamaisjoons · 4 years
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the summer bucketlist | m.list
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When the weather sees the return of sunshine and warmth, the joy and exuberance of summer is revived, and everyone rushes to enjoy the season to the fullest. Bonfire nights with your friends, seeing brilliant firework displays or laying under the stars on a humid night and watching the world go by. Learning to surf, or dive or snorkel or simply collecting seashells along the shore. Late nights at the amusement parks, thrilling roller-coaster rides or spectacular views on the Ferris Wheel. Skinny dipping in a lake after dark, attending a film or music festival, or even just visiting the popup street market in your city. Everything you had been dreaming off since the start of autumn, you can do once again. And who better to do it with, than the boys who bring more joy and warmth to our lives than summer itself?
Welcome to ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ - a writing event/author collab hosted by @jamaisjoons​
The Summer Bucketlist: BTS Edition - is an event in which various different authors can sign up to write a story based on traditional Bucketlist Items. Find their stories below!
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⟶ song of the sea; knj ⇥ @jamaisjoons​       ➳ fantasy au. little mermaid au.            ↳   ⎡Take a Trip to the Museum⎦
« Captivated by the sight of you, he can’t help but watch you swim around his home. And when you turn to leave, he doesn’t know what overcomes him - but as if spellbound - he finds himself following you back to land. »
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⟶ molotov cocktail; jhs ⇥ @yeoldontknow​      ➳ bartender au. arranged marriage au.           ↳   ⎡Take a Cocktail Class⎦
«  You met him January, on a night when you were newly single and newly wanting to break free from your father’s unyielding control. You left him in January, full of regret but full of purpose. You meet him again in July, and now you want nothing more than to run to the ends of the earth with him, to burn down the shape your life has taken in the hope of making something new. »
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⟶ luminous; pjm ⇥ @luffles424​     ➳ summer festival au. tentacle monster au.          ↳   ⎡Watch Fireworks⎦
« The Busan summer festival is your favorite event of the year. You like all the food and things to do, but your favorite part is watching the fireworks at the end of the night, gathered with friends and family. It’s fun and joyous. Except this year you’re spending it without them. So you find a secluded spot on the beach to watch alone. Except... you might not be as alone as you thought you were out here.  »
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⟶ sticky situation; kth ⇥ @jiminsfault​     ➳ camping au. established relationship au.          ↳   ⎡Go Camping⎦
« You hate camping, but Taehyung is determined on changing your mind on that. »
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⟶ pull me in; jhs ⇥ @guccybangtan​     ➳ established relationship au.          ↳   ⎡Go to a Water Park⎦
« In the heat of the summer, there's nothing more relaxing than relaxing than a nice trip to the water park.  »
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⟶ a beautiful epiphany; jjk ⇥ @onherwings​     ➳ friends to lovers au.           ↳   ⎡Join an Art Contest⎦
« Who would have thought that falling in love with your muse could either lead to something beautiful or bring you to your own demise? »
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⟶ love grows where you go; myg ⇥ @rookiegukie​    ➳ arranged marriage au. pining au.         ↳   ⎡Watch the Sunset on the Beach⎦
« Determined to make you and Yoongi grow closer for your upcoming wedding in two weeks, your parents plan a trip for the both of you that lasts five days long. You know you should be ecstatic about it, considering your longtime crush on your fiancé, but by how you're positive that he secretly despises your whole being, you don't find this mini vacation with him something to look forward to. That is until things take an unexpected turn and suddenly, he makes it apparent he doesn’t hate you at all as you reckoned.  »
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⟶ petrichor; pjm ⇥ @taetaewonderland​    ➳ strangers to lovers au. domestic au.         ↳   ⎡Go on a Picnic⎦
« There are smells in the world that can trigger your brain to think of a memory almost in an instant. »
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⟶ sun cockblock; myg ⇥ @cremeandsuga​    ➳ best friends to lovers au. summer au.         ↳   ⎡Join a Sandcastle Building Competition⎦
« Cancún was always a trip to remember - sun, beaches, hookups and day drinking, not to mention the annual sand castle competition you entered with your best friend every year. Yoongi smells like Copper Tone sunblock and heaven. Entering a sandcastle competition with one of the least competitive people in the world was pure agony — but it didn’t dawn to you that your best friend wasn’t competitive because he was confident he would win. Upon your loss, he sees you trying to soothe the burn of it (and the sun) with the beach bartender. He may smell like Copper Tone sunblock and heaven, but he’s sure you feel like heaven.  »
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⟶ rejuvenation; myg & jhs ⇥ @caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma​    ➳ spa owners au.         ↳   ⎡Treat Yourself to a Spa Day⎦
« You finally get a break from work and you decide to indulge in a little pampering and self-care. During lunch, your friend slips a card into your hand for an exclusive spa with a special referral discount. How can you resist? Let’s hope the Bangtan Blossoms Spa provides the relaxation & rejuvenation experience you desperately seek. »
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⟶ just a taste; kth ⇥ @xjoonchildx​   ➳ pwp au.        ↳   ⎡Go Wine Tasting⎦
« He’s hot. he’s considerate. He’s refusing to make a move. weeks of sexual frustration come to a head at a wine tasting and -- this is going to shock NO ONE -- smut ensues. »
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⟶ lollipop; myg ⇥ @ironicarmy​   ➳ neighbours to lovers au.        ↳   ⎡Attempt to make Ice Cream⎦
« It’s a hot summer day, he’s desperate, and your ice lollies taste like heaven.  »
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⟶ carnival lights; kth ⇥ @taephilia​   ➳ haunted carnival au. horror au.        ↳   ⎡Visit a Carnival⎦
« With half of your friend group graduated and leaving your hometown to move to the city for work, you and your friends decide to have one last adventure together (in the words of hobi even though it’s only may and you see each other like every day). But things are always different in the nighttime and you never know what’s lurking between the funnel cakes. »
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⟶ midnight menagerie; knj ⇥ @jooneggs​  ➳ friends to lovers au.       ↳   ⎡Go to a Botanical Garden⎦
« Like water, cradling your fragile soul, Namjoon has held the lily of your heart all your life and you wish you could let him know just how much that means to you. Coincidentally, it just so happens you can: in a week's time when you're stuck in the holiday of your life at Namjoon's father's Botanical gardens. Will you finally get to repay him in a bed of roses or will he be the one to make the bouquet for you? »
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⟶ ferris drink; jhs ⇥ @salvejoon​  ➳ pwp au. established relationship au.       ↳   ⎡Ride a Ferris Wheel⎦
« Your boyfriend has a bucket list of places he wants to do the nasty and next up is a Ferris Wheel. »
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⟶ hose wars; ksj & myg ⇥ @babybinnyboy​  ➳ neighbour au.       ↳   ⎡Have a Water Fight⎦
« Spending a summer in a little coastal town was supposed to be relaxing. It wasn't supposed to include a broken AC unit, record break heatwave, a hose, 2 ridiculously confident, attractive neighbors with an annoyingly low fence. »
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⟶ cut shot; myg ⇥ @kimtaehyunq​  ➳ vacation au. established relationship au.       ↳   ⎡Learn to Volleyball⎦
« He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. »
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⟶ eternal summer; pjm ⇥ @aiimaginesbts​  ➳ childhood friends to lovers au. vacation au.       ↳   ⎡Go Sightseeing on Vacation⎦
« Breaking up with my boyfriend leaves an empty spot on the overseas vacation that I had been looking forward to for a long time. I’m torn between abandoning the trip or going it solo when someone offers to tag along. However, having Jimin, my best friend go with me may not be the best idea — since my crush on him has never gone away. »
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⟶ sway with me; knj & jhs ⇥ @minjoonalist​ ➳ established relationship au.      ↳   ⎡Take a Boat Ride⎦
« You love celebrating your anniversary, it was the only special part about summer that you looked forward to every year- But when your husband Is unable to make the availability due to his job- You thought why not make the best of it? »
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⟶ ecstatic shock; jhs ⇥ @iluvstrawberry​ ➳ strangers to lovers au. abo au.      ↳   ⎡Host a BBQ⎦
« The garden party your parents throw every year is coming up. Seeing your conservative parents, is something you definitely don’t want to face on your own. But with all your friends being busy, you’ve decided to accept your fate and drown your sorrows at your favourite bar. Enter: Jung Hoseok, bartender, lifesaver and the most gorgeous guy you’ve ever seen. »
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⟶ kaleidoscopic; knj ⇥ @boywivlove​ ➳ established relationship au.     ↳   ⎡Go Paintballing⎦
« You and Namjoon decide to blow off some steam and go to a paint balling range, one multicoloured blitzkrieg later; bruised, sweaty and victorious you celebrate your win. »
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⟶ undercurrent; jjk ⇥ @jjungkooksthighs ➳ best friends to lovers au. post college au.     ↳   ⎡Go Diving⎦
« After a year and six months of sea fare and many more nights of sunken eyes that had been dotted with the black shadings of sleeplessness that you’d helped to nurse him because of, the fruits of your best friend’s efforts had earned him the completion of his mission to map the entire eastern seaboard. In all his work, though, Jungkook has not gotten the chance to dive at many of the areas scattered around the ocean in the vastness of the seas. You decide to take him to a previously unmarked, unmapped sector of the sea after following his own nautical charts. The catch is this: you’re afraid of the water. What happens when you find yourself following after him and into the arms of the sea after years of pent up sexual frustration that you blame entirely on him? »
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a/n: this is incredibly late but onefgeoingoeitng i hope you enjoy reading all of these works! If you participated in the collab but your fic isn’t on here, it’s because it hasn’t appeared in the tags! please feel free to DM with the link to the fic!!
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bts-hyperfixation · 3 years
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The Princess and The Duke – Part 1
Duke!Namjoon x Princess!reader
I know I said this wasn’t going to be out until Friday, but after the Scammys, I thought I’d put it out today! This has not yet been edited.
Warnings - future smut, allusions to smut.
The first time you met you were six months old. Barely aware you existed, let alone there was a whole world existing around you. Namjoon was two at the time. A chubby little toddler clinging desperately to his mother as he tried to hide away from all the other strange people in the room. Most of the kingdom had turned out for your christening, so obviously the future Duke’s family had also made an appearance. They stood with the rest of the court at the front of the church, most of the adults attempting to corral children of their own instead of watching the Princess’ baptism.
It was only when a shrill cry echoed through the church hall that Namjoon looked up from his mother’s shoulder trying to locate the noise. Turned out you didn’t appreciate being dipped into freezing cold holy water. From then on, he’d watched intently, each movement made by the priest and your family, craning his neck to watch you wiggle in the queen’s arms. You were just so small, and so pink. He liked pink, and you were wrapped in piles of pink lace. He knew these were traditional colours for your kingdom, his mom liked to tell him stories about the pink flowers that grew throughout his homeland. Beautiful pink daisies. They were his favourite bedtime stories.
Stories of a brave king leading his army into battle. Each week he would send home a bouquet of the only flower that grew on the battlefield. Each week the queen would know he was okay, until one week they didn’t arrive. For the next few days, the queen was inconsolable, after that she was catatonic. She sat draped in black watching the last of the pink daisies wither. As the last petal fell from the shrivelled bud, a shout was heard throughout the kingdom. The king had returned, enemies slain, and with him he brought as many flowers as the cavalry could carry. The seeds were planted throughout the country, and those were the same flowers that remained to this day. The flowers that were lining the pews of the church, and the ballroom at the palace.
After the christening, members of the court were invited for a meal and to meet the infant princess, to meet you. The banquet was held in the ballroom, a long table adorned with wreaths and favours for each of the guests. You were placed in a cradle close to the king. A place where all could visit to pay their respects and your father could protect you. Once his family had finished their meal, they visited your crib, offering a gift and paying their respects to the royals. Namjoon tugged at his mother’s dress until she lifted him to get a better look. As he peered into the cot, he was shocked to find you staring straight up at him. Other babies he met always seemed to be asleep, but not you.
He wriggled in the duchess’ arms until he could reach you. The room fell silent as he extended his chubby hand to poke at your own curled fist. No one outside of your family, the priest, and the doctors had dared to touch you yet. They waited with bated breath for a response from the king. Little Namjoon paid no attention to the eyes on him, too focused on you. Your small fingers wrapped their way around his. The king had cooed at the event, closely followed by everyone else in the room.
The next time you met Namjoon properly you were four, he was almost six. You’d been allowed outside to play with the other children of the court. The problem was, many of them were considerably older than you. None of the ‘big’ girls wanted to play silly little girl games. So you sat alone and watched them as they made daisy chains together. You tried to copy them from afar, but your pudgy little fingers wouldn’t cooperate, ripping through the stems instead of creating the holes needed to thread more flowers.
Namjoon had been following around the gardener when he saw you. Decapitated daisies lay by the dozen around your feet. He couldn’t bear to see the carnage continue, so he took pity on you. He picked a flower with a thick enough stem and passed it too you. To say you were thrilled was an understatement. You’d taken the flower excitedly and threaded another through before giving it back to him to make another hole. The two of you had then spent the next half hour together, him piercing stems and you threading them into long chains. He laughed as you concentrated. Your tongue stuck out of the side of your mouth as you focused on the task at hand.
When you decided the chain was long enough, he made one last hole so you could form a circle. With the ring complete you stepped on your tippy toes to place it over his head, nodding in approval as the string draped from his neck to his knees. He looked down, assessing his new accessory and beamed a smile back at you. The first time you ever saw his dimples. Immediately you were compelled to poke them. He didn’t stop you as you reached for his cheek, instead laughing so they deepened.
You weren’t like any princess he had seen in his books. Those princesses were graceful and dainty. You were more like a bull in a china shop. Honestly, he was relived. All the other boys were in high school, they had no time for him. And the girls all wanted him to play ‘prince charming’. It was fun playing with you. You’d run around the gardens with him, dig in the mud, and exchange the stories your parents read at bedtimes.
Age six brought the loss of your first tooth. The tooth had been placed in a tissue under your pillow and the next morning it had become money! You had been so excited to tell Namjoon all about it, only for him to burst your bubble.
“The tooth fairy isn’t real Y/N” he’d stated matter-of-factly, his nose turned up at the notion.
“Is too!” you’d cried back petulantly. You’d seen her with your own two eyes. Well you’d been half asleep, and it was dark… but you were certain it had been her.
“Is not!” the eight-year-old boy retorted. “I’ll prove it! Next time you lose a tooth don’t tell nobody. She won’t come I promise.” He’d sounded so smug. You wanted to hit him. instead you set out to prove him wrong. You kept wiggling your teeth hoping one would come loose. It’s around a month later you get your chance. The tooth came out in the apple you were eating for dessert. Carefully you hid the bone from your nanny so she couldn’t tell your parents. After you were tucked in that night, you slid the bone under your pillow and waited for the fairy to visit you. But she never came.
The next day when you saw Namjoon, you were devastated, but still not ready to concede the fairy’s existence.  
“Maybe I upset her?” you sniffle at him “You’re not supposed to wait for her, I broke the rules! That’s why she didn’t come! What if she never visits me again?” tears fell freely down your face. Namjoon had never felt so guilty, not even when he lied about breaking his mom’s favourite vase. He had watched you cry for a moment, unsure of where to go from here. He had made the heir to the throne cry… could he get locked away for this?
“It’s my fault Y/N! I was just jealous” he quickly tried to formulate a believable story in his head as you wiped away your tears.
“Jealous?” your voice was small, a little hope filtering through the sadness.
“Yeah… jealous. See I… uh… I’ve nearly got all my big teeth now, so she doesn’t come to see me as often. I bet if you put the tooth under your pillow tonight and go to sleep, she will come!” your face had lit up at the news. Immediately after he’d said goodbye to you, he went and told the gardener about your tooth. When you woke up the next day, a shiny coin was in the tooth’s place. You’d held the discovery over Namjoon for the few months, but he didn’t care. He was just happy you were happy and that he didn’t get into trouble.
At age eight you were definitely not shaping up to be the perfect princess. In fact you were quite the rambunctious little tot. Your mother became more and more exasperated every time you turned up with a new grass stain on one of your best gowns. She begged you to spend more time having tea parties with the girls instead. It was never your fault though. The tea parties were dull and Namjoon would challenge you to a race through the maze, or to see who could climb highest in the trees. You couldn’t just let him win.
If you weren’t running around or rolling down hills, you were lying together staring up at the clouds from the middle of the topless bandstand in the middle of the maze. The beautiful white stone structure had quickly become ‘your’ spot. None of the other palace kids showed any interest in exploring the maze, and the adults always seemed to get lost trying to find you. Hours were wasted with the two of you just staring up at the sky, sometimes talking about your day, sometimes in complete silence. It was just nice to be with him.
On calmer days he would read aloud from a book while you made daisy chains. You could do it by yourself now. Much more in control of your own limbs than you used to be. The summer before Namjoon was due to go to high school you made a chain so long you could coil it around the entire base of the bandstand.
After he started high school, you saw a lot less of Namjoon. He wasn’t able to come around as often between his homework and extracurriculars. Instead you begged your father to let you attend his football games. Each Saturday you went in disguise with your nanny to watch Namjoon play, regardless of the weather. You weren’t even sure you enjoyed the sport, but it was worth it for the smile he flashed every time he found you amongst the onlookers.
Each week you wore a different disguise wanting to make it difficult for him, but each time he found you without fail.
You melted every time, knowing that smile was just for you. Originally you told yourself it was just a swell of pride, watching your best friend play. Eventually you had to admit to yourself that maybe it was more than that, but you swallowed the crush. After all he was in high school, he wouldn’t want a silly little girl like you anyway.
When you turned fourteen it was time to for you to be presented to the kingdom. A ball was thrown in your honour, the first of many you would attend in your lifetime. The thought of being alone at any big event made you feel queasy. The fact that this one was going to be focused entirely on you made you ill for an entire week before. Namjoon had spent the week trying to reassure you that everything was going to be fine. Luckily, your birthday had been during a break from school so he could spend the time with you. He grew more and more concerned as he watched your health deteriorating to a point where you could barely keep water down. Eventually he came to a decision and asked for an audience with the king himself.
He’d dressed in his best suit making sure not a single hair was out of place. He marched straight up to the double doors to your father’s study and took a deep breath, more than prepared to argue his point. Your father had welcomed Namjoon into his office with open arms. He’d always been fond of the boy, especially knowing the weak spot you held for him. Regardless of the warm reception and his original confidence in his idea, Namjoon felt the nerves begin to overtake him. He wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his suit jacket, breath coming out shakily.
“Can I escort Y/N to her first ball.” The king had been taken aback by Joon’s sudden outburst, his face showing obvious surprise at the young man’s bold request. Namjoon mistook the expression for a dismissal and so, in a much less eloquent way than he had practiced in is shower, he fought his case.
“Y/N has been ill all week; she doesn’t think she can do this alone…. And I just thought… maybe she would be okay if I were with her. I know I’m only a duke, but I just want her to be okay and I really think this would be good and it’ll only be for this one ball and…” Namjoon’s rambling came to an end when your father raised his hand. Namjoon clenched his fists as he waited for an answer.
Your father had taken his time to consider Namjoon’s proposal, enjoying the way the boy had squirmed under his gaze. To this day, Namjoon refers to it as the second most terrifying day of his life. Eventually a smile had broken over the kings face, no longer able to contain his laugh. He clapped Namjoon on the shoulder and sent him off with his blessing.
On his way to meet you in the gardens afterwards, he had gathered the prettiest daisies he could find. He found you lying on the floor of the bandstand, looking a little too pale as you stared up at the clouds floating past. He cleared his throat on arrival, making you look at him with the offer of a weak smile, not really taking him in.
When he didn’t take his place beside you, you’d sat up to look at him properly. That’s when you saw the pinstripe suit and quaffed hair. It looked so unlike him you couldn’t help but giggle. Normally Joon was a t-shirt and basketball shorts kind of guy. He had rolled his eyes and extended his hand to help you up. You took it, every question in your mind had gotten stuck in your throat when his eyes had met yours. You never did get over that silly little crush. He didn’t release your hand like you expected him too. Instead he placed the bouquet into your free hand and asked you the question you’d been dreaming he would.
“Just to protect you of course… I don’t like when you aren’t well” He’d broken the moment by ruffling your hair, a sure sign he was doing this as a favour.
He took you to every ball you attended after that one.
The summer you turned seventeen was the summer before Namjoon left for university. You snuck out passed your guards in the night to see him. There was a very convenient secret passageway that led from your room to the gardens. You would meet him at the bandstand and talk until the sun came over the horizon. The lack of sleep had been worth it to spend those last fleeting days with him. You talked about anything and nothing, just like you would in the daytime, but this felt far more intimate.
The first time you convinced him to meet you after curfew his eyes flitted everywhere. Always nervous someone would find the two of you there and assume the worst. You on the other hand were just desperate to soak up as much of your friends company as you could before he left.
Over time he’d become more comfortable with the routine. In fact he had been certain that your sneaking around hadn’t even been that sneaky, your parents were just allowing you to rebel like this. Eventually he got used to walking you back to the entrance of the secret passageway, spending an extra few moments together.
His final night in town had been an emotional one. You’d sat side by side, your head on his shoulder staring up at the stars in complete silence for a long time. A tear fell down your cheek every time you thought about him leaving you. He’d wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close just as a shooting star arched across the sky. You immediately had a wish in mind. Eyes scrunched tight and fists clenched, you wished as hard as you could that he would stay, or at least that he’d come back fast. But unfortunately, he had to go, and morning came around far too fast.
You’d dragged your feet as he walked you back to the passageway. Shoulders bumping together, fingers brushing, glances stolen when you were sure the other wasn’t looking. The wall that concealed your entrance had come into view far too quickly. You’d sighed as you reluctantly pressed in the stones that would open the doorway, far from ready to say goodbye to the boy you’d grown up with. You hugged him goodbye, tears streaming freely down your face. You’d released him and turned to walk back into the castle, but as you’d taken that first step, he grabbed you sharply by the wrist and pulled you back to him.
His lips were so soft as they met yours. The surprise had knocked all the air out of your lungs forcing you to pull back sooner than you would’ve liked. He wiped the tears from your face and pulled you back to him, kissing you once more. And then he was gone.
The following autumn had dragged by. With no Namjoon, you had been forced to invest in the idle gossip of other members of the court, actually pay attention in your elocution lessons, and, perhaps worst of all, prepare for your first ball without your trusty escort. Every time you thought of Namjoon your lips tingled at the memory of your first kiss. You were devastated when his parents had told you he wouldn’t be able to make it home for the Christmas ball.
When the time came, you’d prepared for the ball like you had every other. A team came to pinch, primp, and style you to within an inch of yourself. This year they’d decided on a snow theme. Your pale blue ballgown had been the most beautiful one you’d worn at that point. It glittered like freshly fallen snow in the winter sun. The skirt poofed out around your waist and fell just above your feet so people could still see the matching shoes with little snowflakes. It was the best you thought you’d ever looked, and it broke your heart to know Namjoon wasn’t going to see you like that.
When the time came, you’d taken a breath and readied yourself for a night of refusing advances of handsy nobles, and questions you weren’t prepared to answer about the whereabouts of your usual date. You took a hold of the banister and began your entrance into the grand ballroom, desperately trying to keep your eyes forward and not trip at the same time. Whilst concentrating on not falling flat on your face, you had failed to notice one crucial detail about the room before you, until he took your hand and brought it to his lips. Namjoon had made it home after all.
You spent the entire event together. For every slow dance you were in the middle of the floor swaying together as he whispered sweet things in your ear. Time not on the dance floor had been spent laughing and catching up. The night came to an end with you escaping to your spot.
He’d picked a daisy and threaded it into your hair, trailing his fingers down the side of your face when he was finished. You’d boldly stepped even closer to him, lips inches away from his, daring him to repeat the night he left, and he’d gladly taken the opportunity.  He’d pulled you impossibly closer, lifting you on to your tiptoes and kissed you like a man starved. You’d wrapped your arms around his waist. Desperately trying to make up for lost time. Eventually you came to rest, foreheads resting against one another, breathing hard.
“Y/N I love you.” It was the first time he admitted it out loud, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. In fact he said it at least twenty more times that night.
“I love you too Joon.” You kissed him one more time before taking his hand and breaking into a sprint. You came to a stop at the passageway to your chambers. “Come in with me?” You’d asked, flashing him doe eyes he had never been able to resist.
“Are you sure?” He brushed a stray hair behind your ear and met your eyes, you’d never seen him look so serious.
“Well I can’t get out of this dress alone.” You’d tried to joke. When his expression didn’t change you gulped down any reservations and nodded. “I’m completely sure.” He’d swept you into his arms and carried you through your room laying you down on your bed. His coat and tie had been immediately discarded across the room. You’d sat up to get a better look as he undid the buttons on his white dress shirt, biting your lip at the thought of running your hands across his bare skin. He stopped undressing himself to look back at you.
“You’re so beautiful.” He embraced you, fingers finding the zipper at the back of your gown. You allowed the sleeves to fall down your arms, exposing your chest to him. Immediately his lips had gone to trail along your collarbones. He mumbled ‘I love you’ as he went. Each kiss punctuated by the words you’d longed to hear from him. You pushed his shirt down his shoulders, letting your hands linger on his biceps, rubbing little circles on the perfect skin.
“Joon?” he answers you with a hmm. “Is this real?” he pulled away from you to meet your eyes.
“I hope so.” He responded before kissing you deeply again. When you’d gotten the chance you’d stood up and allowed the dress to puddle around your feet.  He reached out to pull you in again by your newly expose waist, positioning you underneath him. He’d kissed down your stomach until he reached the top of your underwear.
“Maybe we should stop here?” he’d said, pulling away from you, “I want our first time to be something amazing.” You’d nodded, a little reluctant, but you’d waited this long for him, you could wait a little longer. Instead you’d settled into your bed together, cuddled close in just your underwear, praying that you didn’t wake up from this dream.
Everything was perfect, you stayed together throughout both his and your university experience. The whole kingdom knew of their childhood sweethearts. The duke and the princess destined to be together. The night of your graduation, a large ball had been put together in your honour and while no one dared say it aloud, everyone was certain there were hidden intentions behind the congratulatory event. The feeling was in the air, the whole of the kingdom whispered rumours of how the young duke was going to propose. They wondered how it would be announced, if he was going to ask you in the middle of all the guest, or if he’d elect to be more private about it.
But then the day of the ball arrived and Namjoon wasn’t waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs like he usually would. You assumed he would be waiting somewhere to surprise you, but the whispers started as soon as you’d turned up to the ballroom unescorted. No one had seen him. The entire night people had congratulated you on graduating, but your heart wasn’t even your replies. Instead you’d spent the night searching every face in the room for a sign of your missing lover.
As the night wore on it became clear that he had no intentions of attending. You’d put every ounce of your princess training to good use that night as you tried not to cry, humiliated in front of everyone you had ever known.
Awaiting you in your bedroom at the end of the night was a bouquet of pink daisies and a simple note that said ‘I’m so sorry’
You wouldn’t see Namjoon again for two years…
Part 2
Masterlist
Losing Virginity drabble
Taglist: @uraveragefangirlsposts
203 notes · View notes
bangtan-madi · 3 years
Text
noel on ice — kim namjoon
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Pairing — Namjoon x Reader, feat. minor mention of Jungkook x OC
Genre — fluff, holiday, minor angst, mental health
Tags — strangers to lovers, figure skater!Namjoon, barista!MC, non-idol au, figure skater au, café au, holiday au
Word Count — 16k
Summary —  After sustaining a crushing defeat at the World Figure Skating Championships, falling from his perfect gold standard to his long-time rival, Kim Namjoon returns to South Korea with an unsure heart and accompanying injury. At the same time, Y/N is as far from home as she has ever been due to a falling out with her family, working as a barista at a café in Seoul while trying to finish her degree. As if by fate, the two meet, and Namjoon makes it his goal to make Y/N see the magic of the holidays -- one Christmas adventure across Seoul at a time. 
Warnings — minor language, brief anxiety attack, mentions of ptsd related symptoms
A/N — This year has been a very difficult one for us all. For my fic in this Christmas collab, I wanted to acknowledge all of that and give a little mental health break for everyone. All of our experiences have been different, but one thing we all have in common is that 2020 was unexpected, painful, and heavy. Please, no matter what holiday you celebrate, let yourself have as much rest and healing as you need. If this little, probably-needs-more-editing-than-I-had-time-for fic can help you get there — even just for the twenty minutes it takes to read — then my job is done ❤️ I love you all, and I know I speak for the others when I say I hope 2021 treats us all so much kinder, and I hope we learn to love ourselves in spite of our worlds around us.
Playlist — Link here.
Christmas Collaboration — this fic is a part of the Christmas Collab by @kooala (link coming soon!)
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"Hey—Hey, are you even listening to me?"
Raising your head slightly, your eyes widening as you realize you've zoned out again, focusing on the snowfall outside instead of the next customer in line. The woman waving her hand in front of you is as foreign to South Korea as you are, but her expression is entirely that of an angry American. Her scowl has etched deep lines into her skin, where smile lines should be.
Unfortunately, her face is all too familiar. Usually it pays to be one of the only native English-speakers at your café; however, when Americans come in, you're the one pushes to take their orders and serve them.
Even the most difficult ones.
"S—Sorry, Ma'am," you mutter. Shaking your head, you force a customer-service smile. "I was just admiring the snowfall. Isn't it beautiful?"
"Oh, yeah," she retorts sarcastically. "So beautiful that it's making travel home nearly impossible. Can you please just make my drink so I can leave?"
"I—I didn't hear it, Ma'am. Can you repeat it please?"
While the woman rolls her eyes, she repeats her order swiftly, muttering something along the lines of, "Baristas these days, I swear to god," under her breath. "Make sure to get it right this time. Every time I come in and order a blended cappuccino, you guys end up giving me a latte, which is not what I ordered."
"And every time, we have to explain that all a latte is, is a blended cappuccin—"
"—I don't want to hear it!"
With a sigh, you ring up the total for the "blended cappuccino, not latte" and let the woman pay. From the sidelines, your co-worker Lisa stands with a glare and a tin of heated milk ready to go for your order.
"Ms. Blended cappuccino again?" she asks as you turn towards her with a note written in perfect Hangul.
You nod, running  a hand over your hair in frustration. "I hate being the only native bi-lingual person here. Means I get to deal with her every damn time."
Sensing your downtrodden spirit, Lisa pushes you out of the way, giving you a gentle shove towards the back room. "I got this one. Go take a breather in the back, okay?"
"But—"
"—Ah! No buts. I know enough English to get by."
From the front desk, the woman pipes up again, demanding her drink be made faster. Lisa marches past your, arms herself with the imaginary drink, and says in perfect English, "You're in Seoul now. Speak Korean."
Knowing Lisa can handle the absolute hell-spawn that is an angry American Karen, you turn your back to the drama and shuffle to the break room behind the "employees only" door. An exasperated breath escapes as you revel in the silence, pushing away the muffled café sounds on the other side of the door. Being the only one in the break room, you spot your favorite white chocolate mocha on the side table, with a smiley face sticky note indicating it's from Lisa beside it.
You smile gently at the sweet gesture, and shove the sticky note into your pocket as a reminder to yourself to thank her later.
Taking the mug between your overworked hands, you settle down on the window seat and watch the December sky slowly shift from violet to navy. The mocha is just slightly sweet with a hint of peppermint, just like you like it. It's almost enough to illicit the Christmas spirit lying dormant inside you.
There's something incredibly painful about this particular holiday season, you think to yourself as the cars pass swiftly on the street outside. The glittering lights, the beautiful carols, the crystalline snow — none of it feels the same as last year.  The holidays are supposed to be a time of comfort and renewal, but this year — after moving halfway around the world by yourself — your heart is starting to wonder if that part of you has died.
Maybe it's the loneliness you're feeling, or maybe it's the fact that you're so far away from home. Or maybe it's the fresh-in-your-mind arguments and falling out with your family over the summer. That bitter taste lingers still in the back of your throat, not unlike a dark espresso.  A Christmas season without your parents and siblings; you never thought living your own life and following your happiness could hurt so much. For better or worse, that nostalgic feeling family and friends bring is long gone. And now you're nostalgic for nostalgia itself; what kind of messed up feeling is that?
You've had twenty-four wondrous, magical holiday seasons. Is it part of growing up that your allotment of joyful Christmas days is limited?
Is twenty-five the year that the magic just...stops?
When the night sky becomes unchanging, the door to the café kitchen opens. Lisa peeks her head inside, side-bangs falling in her face. "How's the mocha? Did I get it right?"
You take the last sip with a grateful smile, then place the mug onto the coffee table. "You nailed it. Thank you, I needed that."
Pride swells in Lisa's chest, and her shoulders straighten as she enters the room. "Well, good news. Karen's gone," she announces, "and your favorite customer is here!"
"Who?"
Lisa places her hand horizontally at her hip-level. "About this tall? Loves peppermint hot choco?
Bolting from your seat, all your concerns are momentarily gone. Your co-worker doesn't have to utter another word to get you to exit the back room and reenter the kitchen.
Across the counter, a mop of black hair is barely visible. Dark brown eyes peer over the granite surface; they twinkle and shine at the sight of you. Tiny hands splay on the surface in an attempt to make the small child taller. He's around seven to eight years, you estimate. Nine or ten at the very most. Definitely not out of primary school. And he's your very favorite customer, because unlike most, this child comes in with a toothy grin almost every single day with enough money for a peppermint hot chocolate. He's never late, and he's never unhappy. If the Sun were to bless the world with a ray of sunshine in human form, this kid would be it.
"Ahjumma!" the little boy shouts, a grin plastered on his face.
Instead of having him crane his neck, you walk around the counter, bend down on one knee, and ignore the other customers behind him. Pulling one of the tiny baked goods from your apron pocket, you offer the sweet to the child with a wink.
"You're here awfully late, Yeongu. You're usually here right after school lets out. It's already after dark."
Yeongu digs through his pocket and pulls out several crumpled won, enough for his beverage of choice. "Tomorrow is the last day before Christmas break, so dad picked me up and took me skating. I'm with mom and her boyfriend for the rest of the month 'cause Dad's going to Busan with his new wife. I don't like her that much. She frowns too much. And she smells like soju and taffy."
You exchange the won for the baked treat, laughing softly as you invite the boy onto the corner table nearest the hot chocolate machines. "You don't like taffy, do you?"
He makes a face and takes a big bite of the delicacy. "My teacher tells us that if we eat taffy, it will help us remember things. I ate too much of it last year, and now I hate it. Dad's new wife must always be forgetting things, because she always smells like it!"
After finishing the simple drink, you slide the mug across the table and plop down in the seat across from the small boy. "So does this mean I won't get to see you until after Christmas?"
Yeongu shakes his head. "I'll be by tomorrow after. Mom wanted to visit my cousin before we left. He's back in town for Christmas, and we haven't seen him in a long time."
"Oh? What does he do?"
"Sports."
At that, the boy changes the conversation. "What are you doing for Christmas, Ahjumma?"
"Yeah, Ahjumma," Lisa pipes up after serving the final to-go customer for the night. She flips the sign on the front door and turns back to the two of you, hand on her hip. "What are you doing for your first Christmas in Korea?"
Shrugging slightly, you turn your attention back to the small child across from you. "I'll probably spend the day with Mochi — my cat — probably studying so I'll be ahead in the new year for my next classes." Lisa gives an empathetic look at the mention of your kitten, which causes you to roll your eyes playfully. "Don't give me that look! I'll be fine. Probably best for me to have a relaxed, non-hectic couple of days. This year has been a rough one."
"That sounds sad," Yeongu states bluntly, earning a snicker from Lisa.
"Kid's right. Absolutely dreadful, [Y/n]. What a lame Christmas."
"What about you, then? Do you have any plans for Christmas?"
At the question, Lisa's smirk drops and she perks up. "Well, I'm sure you know, but Christmas in Korea is pretty different from America," Lisa reminds you, and you nod your acknowledgement. "It's more of a couple holiday, so my boyfriend Jungkook and I are planning to take the week off and do a ton of holiday activities together. Mostly outdoors stuff. Y'know, snowboarding, skiing, snowball fights — the usual."
"Sounds like a blast," you laugh.
"Oh, it will be." She gives a wink, then nods to Yeongu. "Are we about done here? I need to head out if you're okay with locking up for the night."
You give a wave of approval as the child nears the end of his glass. "I got this. Say hello to Jungkookie for me."
Lisa flashes a set of extravagant finger hearts before disappearing into the back, where she gathers her personal items and exits out the rear entrance. In her absence, Yeongu tugs on your sleeve and holds up an empty mug.
"Thank you for the hot choco, Ahjumma," he grins, showing the dark stain on his upper lip.
Taking the mug, you use the edge of your apron to clean the mess from his face. "If you come by tomorrow before you leave with your Eomma, I'll make you another with extra peppermint, okay?"
The boy's smile grows, and he hops up from the table with a swift bow. "I'll be here!" He heads for the door with a skip in his step.
"Will you get home all right?" you call after him.
Yeongu turns and grins. "I will, don't worry, Ahjumma!"
And then he's gone, out the door in a rush of energy and giggles towards his home nearby. You merely shake your head; there's no point in going after him now.
Soon after, you're following in his step. It doesn't take you long to clean up. By the time you lock up and exit out the back, snow has begun to fall. You brave the cold, tugging your coat tighter around you, burying your face into your scarf. The journey to the subway is short, and your feet take you quickly. Even still, you stare upward at the snowy clouds in hope that they might spark a semblance of Christmas joy in your heart.
Tonight, like every other night, nothing changes.
You heave a sigh, and the breath billows out as a visible fog as you enter the station. Going through the motions to get to your apartment is easy. A swipe of a card, a short ride to the edge of the neighborhood, and a trek up the set of stairs. Once through the door, you're greeted by a mewing shadow of a cat.
"Hi, my baby girl," you greet with a soft smile, bending down to scratch the tiny fur ball behind the ears. The black cat rubs her chin against your palm and follows you when you waltz to the kitchen. "You hungry?"
As if responding, "Yes!" Mochi speeds up and meows a bit louder than last time.
Her antics bring a smile to your face as you turn on the television for background noise. You find the nearest Korean news station, finding the program in the middle of a report on Korea's favorite rap duo and their upcoming tour: Suga and J-Hope. Your intention with the selection is two-fold — first, to continue to enhance your skills of the Korean language, and two, to continue learning about the culture and world of your new home. While you had extensive knowledge of both before moving to Seoul — despite the process being rather quick due to the fallout with your family — nothing compares to being immersed in the country itself.
As the musical entertainment section ends, you begin pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboard. "What do you think sounds good, Mochi? How about teokbokki?" The black cat perches her paws on your right leg, purring pleasantly. "I agree, sounds great after a long day."
You toss a bag of rice cakes onto the counter as the news changes to sports. Even as you prepare the sauce for the meal, you actively listen to the voices in the background.
"Unfortunately, RM Nam's ice skating season has been cut short due to an unforeseen injury he sustained during practice this summer. At the time, the damage to his shoulder seemed unnoticed by the athlete and his coach. However, as we saw earlier this October at the Grant Prix Series: Skate America, Mr. Nam's mishap on the ice turned out to be far more damaging than originally thought. Thus, the position representing South Korea at the next in the series, Skate Canada, was shifted to his rival, Kim Seokjin, and RM Nam returned home to Seoul to recover."
You can't but help a glance up at the screen. The skater in question has his back turned to the cameras as he heads into the airport. Behind his sunglasses, mask, and beanie, he offers a polite smile and wave to the reporters. Moments later, his coach guides him into the building, out of sight.
"That doesn't sound fun," you mutter to yourself as the report moves onto politics.
After you finish cooking, you plate yourself a portion and move into the living room. Besides the tiny tan sofa and the television propped up on a box, most of the room is bare. There are a handful of boxes strewn across the apartment of the few things you either had shipped from the States or that you bought in your six months since then, but for the most part, you've been putting off all of it. Most of your time is spent at work or at school; you haven't had the time, energy, or motivation to do any of it. Even at Christmas, despite Lisa gifting you with your very own tiny tree and twinkle lights to spread across the home, you've yet to unpack any of it. The tree remains in the slender box beside the TV, and you doubt it will go up this year at all.
Heaving a sigh at the thought, you turn the channel to VIKI put on your favorite drama. This particular one is a reincarnation plot with two male leads played by Korea's golden boys: Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Paired with the bowl of teokkboki in your lap and the kitten curled to your side, it's enough to drag you thoughts out of homesickness and back to the present.
This might just have to be the Christmas you forget and hope that the next year is a kinder one.
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A lot changed in your life this year. In some ways, the changes were good. In others, not so much. Most of the turbulent times were in the heat of the summer, but things began slowing down once you moved to South Korea in September. You were now away from toxic family members, away from a life you never wanted, and looking ahead to an uncertain but certainly hopeful future.
In late October, the seasons began changing for the better — and not just in the physical sense of the falling leaves and cooler breeze. Lisa was right about your favorite customer; it truly was little Yeongu. However, there was another that you looked forward to seeing, just as much as the elementary school boy.
This person was older, around your age, with a deeply dimpled smile that made your stomach flutter. Eyes as slender as his body proportions, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't an attractive man. Hair the color of the snowflakes he walked through, eyes the color of the beverage he'd always order, skin the color of warmth in a cozy fireplace. Even his voice was warm and deep; at every conversation, while you are completely fluent in Korean, you find yourself just wanting to listen to the soft timbre.
Over time, this man — whose name you'd quickly learn was Kim Namjoon — became a regular at your little coffee shop. He'd come in at the oddest hours, either super early or super late. Hours you often worked alone, when there were fewer customers. Every time, he'd strike up a conversation as you took his order and crafted his beverage of choice (a heavy coffee brewed dark and bitter, with just a splash of cream and almond whip.) He was sweet, and eventually you opened up. He'd hang around the counter long after the transaction was completed, sometimes until another customer stole your attention away. It didn't take long for you to realize that he was far more than merely a pretty face.
In those weeks leading up to December, you found yourself smiling a bit more. Joking a bit more. Shoulders lightening a bit more. You looked forward to the increasingly insistent days where he'd waltz in — sometimes covered in raindrops, sometimes in crisp leaves, sometimes in snowflakes — always a crystal blue umbrella under his arm and a charcoal grey scarf around his neck.
It's the same person standing at the entrance now, the man currently shaking the rain from his umbrella and platinum locks. Lisa gives you a smirk as she nods her head towards the register and steps away from the counter, as if silently saying, "You're up, m'lady. Holler if you need me; I'll be doing an order in the back."
You brush your hair back into proper place, display a genuine smile, and take your stance behind the register. When Namjoon's eyes meet yours, his smile deepens and creates dimples on either side of his mouth.
After the customer in front of him pays and leaves with his order in hand, you greet him with a simple, "You haven't been in, in over a week. Finally trying to break your caffeine addiction?"
Namjoon gives a deep laugh and shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. I like being able to function as an adult in society, thank you very much." He pulls out several won from his wallet. "I'll have..."
"The usual?"
He cocks an eyebrow. "You remember?"
"Of course," you grin, and type his drink of choice into the register. Taking his money, you add, "How could I forget your order after the hilarious reaction when I suggested a mint mocha?"
The boy thinks back to the first day he walked into the café, and recalls that conversation with a groan. "Oh god, was I that bad?"
Handing him his change, you tap your chin and reply, "Well, maybe a bit. I'd never seen someone so horrified at the idea of mint chocolate."
Namjoon rubs the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Sorry about that. Pretty terrible at hiding my disdain for that flavor combo."
"No worries! Made me laugh."
Seeing that there are no other customers behind him, you turn to the brewing station and usher Namjoon to take a seat on the bar stool across the counter. It's a position you've taken several times before. When the customers are low, as they are at this hour of evening, the platinum-haired man tends to linger and converse far after his drink is finished.
"What brings you in today? Just wanted a pick-me-up or?"
Namjoon heaves a sigh. He watches you closely but casually, silently admiring the skillful way you begin to brew the dark beverage. "I've had a lot on my mind lately, and coming here always helps me de-stress."
"Coffee helps you relax?" You can't help but chuckle at the sentiment.
"And the company."
Heat rushes to your face, and when you glance up to meet his gaze, the warmth only increases. "You're smooth, Kim Namjoon. Very smooth."
Brown eyes widen, and he bows his head so that his bangs cover his eyes. "That's not what I meant at all!"
"Calm down, you're fine. Wanna talk about what's on your mind, though?"
In all your conversations, the two of you have only ever talked on the shallow surface of various topics. You don't know much about Namjoon, and he doesn't know much about you — despite having shared extremely vague information about your year, your jobs, and your education. You feel very open with him, but most of the time, those conversations can't be had in a fifteen minute discussion at a café.
"It's a long, complicated story. I'm not sure you'd wanna hear it." He raises his hands defensively as he realizes how his words might be construed. "Not that you wouldn't understand! I just wouldn't want to be a downer."
You select the cold brew setting on the machine and let the device begin to whir to life. "Well, I've got at least the time it takes to make your drink. I'm all ears."
Namjoon shakes his head as he settles his elbows on the counter. "You're persistent."
"Honey, I've been called far worse."
Seeing your eagerness, your companion heaves a sigh and shifts his gaze from you to the window at his right. As be begins to speak, his demeanor falls a bit. He's not as happy-go-lucky; there's an err of anxiety about him that you can't quite nail down. "I've been thinking about a change in career recently. Things haven't been unfolding this year like I wanted...and I'm starting to think I'm not meant to do what I'm doing now. Maybe I need to retire — from this industry, I mean, and move on to another."
Even with that small confession, you can't help but mirror his emotions. "I hear you. I've felt similar feelings this year."
His gaze shifts back to yours, and he tilts his head in surprise. "Really? How so?"
"I told you I moved to Seoul in September, right?" Namjoon nods. "That's because I wanted a...a fresh start. I enrolled in Yonsei University, got a job here, and just...moved."
"That's pretty brave, and that's really awesome you're at Yonsei. They're a fantastic school."
"Thanks," you grin whilst popping the canister of cold brew out from under the brewing machine. "I needed to get away from certain people in my life that weren't letting me move forward, so moving was the best choice." You pour the dark beverage into a small mixer and pull out the vanilla creamer. "Sure you don't want mint this time? Last chance."
Namjoon cocks an eyebrow as a silent challenge; the expression makes you giggle to yourself as you pour the very non-mint add-ins. "Hilarious."
"Hey! Just offering." After giving the mixture a whisk, your smile falters.
Nothing gets by the observant person across the counter. "I feel like your story has a 'but' after what you ended with."
"You're good," you reply, gesturing to him with the handheld whisk. "I'm not talking too much, am I?"
Namjoon shakes his head adamantly and flourishes with his hand for you to continue. "I mean, we're practically friends now. Please, go on."
Reassured by both his calming nature and genuine interest, you continue talking. "But after getting here...let's just say it's hard to make friends and get out there in a country where you look so different, where your language isn't native, and where you know literally no one. So...ah, this year's been a pretty lonely one, and I know I still made the right choice, but now that the holidays are here..." You trail off and offer a small smile. "All that to say, I know what it's like to second-guess yourself and not have things go the way you thought."
"Seems we have a lot in common," he chuckles, leaning his chin on his hand.
The comment causes the mood to lighten, and you let a laugh slip out. "Yeah, seems so."
Before the conversation can continue, the front door opens. Yeongu enters, a couple of other customers behind him. As if on cue, Lisa enters from the back room and greets the adults with a smile and a swift, "Hi, welcome! What can I get you this evening?"
As the child approaches the adjacent counter where you stand, his grin widens. You perch your elbows on the counter and lean over. "How's my favorite customer?"
"I'm finally free from school, Ahjumma!" Yeongu cheers loudly.
"Congrats! I'm sure you're relieved." He nods affirmatively. "t's freezing outside. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, I promise. But can I get a mint hot choco?" He holds up a crumpled bill with a toothy grin.
"Of course, you can. Extra mint, just like I promised." You nod towards the seat closest to the window. "Sit in your usual spot, okay? After I get this nice man his coffee, I'll get your hot chocolate."
As Namjoon turns to look at the child, Yeongu's eyes widen in surprise. "Namjoon-hyung! I didn't know you were here."
Much to your shock, Namjoon reciprocates the affection and hops down from his chair to bend down to Yeongu's level. "Yeon-ie!" He teases the boy by ruffling up his hair, which Yeongu scowls at him for.
"Um... You two know each other?"
"Yep!" Yeongu grins. "He's my cousin, the one I told you about yesterday."
"Oooh, that makes sense. Didn't realize my two favorite customers were related."
Yeongu laughs at the comment and hops into the chair beside Namjoon. "But I'm your favorite customer, right?"
"Of course," you tease, flashing him a playful wink.
"Oh! I almost forgot. Ahjumma, can I please have mine in a to-go cup? Mom told me to come right home so we can finish packing for our trip."
"Of course, give me just a second to get you a lid." You turn to your first customer with an apologetic smile. "Namjoon, I'm almost done with yours. Just give me a moment."
"Actually, do you mind putting mine in a to-go cup as well?" He jerks his thumb towards Yeongu. "I should probably walk him home. He lives just around the corner from me. I'd feel better if I did."
"Oh, sure, I can do that."
"Would you walk with us, Ahjumma? Pleeeease?"
Your gaze moves to Namjoon. "Do you mind?"
The elder cousin hops up from his chair, shaking his head adamantly. "Not at all! Can you?"
"Sure, I'm about at the end of my shift anyway! Let me grab my coat. I'll come with." You turn quickly to Lisa, murmuring, "Can you watch—?"
She cuts you off with a wave of her hand. "—Go! I can close up for the night. But if you don't come back with a date planned, the invitation to spend New Years with Jungkookie and me is rescinded."
With a playful eye-roll, you peck her on the cheek and run to the back for your coat. Once you return, you find Namjoon scuffling Yeongu's dark locks with a dimpled smile. Looking back up as you return, the expression doesn't falter.
"Ready?"
You nod and follow behind through the exit, trying to ignore the wink and dual thumbs-ups Lisa flashes you as you pass.
Once on the street, Yeongu walks ahead of you and Namjoon. The first few minutes are silent between you two. From ahead, you can hear the small child talking to himself, or perhaps his hot chocolate, and then occasionally to the adults.
As you cross the busy street, Namjoon clears his throat. "So...you have any plans for Christmas?"
You scoff under your breath and shake your head. "Why does this topic keep coming up?"
"Hope I didn't offend," he laughs. "Yeongu said something about a café girl not having plans last night. I figured it was you."
"Trust me, you're good. But yeaaah. Kinda new to Korea. I spent the fall settling in and trying to start over. Between work and school, didn't expect much. Holidays sneaked up on me, I guess."
There's a pause as the trio rounds the corner. Yeongu finishes his hot cocoa along the way and hands the empty cup to Namjoon. The elder doesn't even hesitate to take it, and the boy rushes ahead to what you assume is his home. Over his shoulder, he shouts, "Thank you for the choco, Ahjumma!"
You grin widely and wave. "You're welcome!"
Yeongu turns to Namjoon, sticks out his tongue in a playful manner, then disappears into his house.
"Aaand that's the thanks I get." Namjoon rolls his eyes and turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention as the sun sets behind Seoul Tower. "I have a crazy idea."
"Oh, really?" You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. "Those are my favorite kind of ideas."
"Cheesy," he grins. "Well...I don't have any plans either. Maybe we spend it together?"
"No plans, huh? Do I look that pitiful?"
"No! No, it's not that at all, god." Namjoon's smirk falls from his face as a horrified expression drowns out any humor. "Sorry if that's how it came off. I just—You seem really nice, and it's been a while since either of us just enjoyed someone else's company. No strings. No pressure."
Tugging your lower lip between your teeth, you shuffle in your step. "I don't know, Namjoon..."
"Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I hate to see anyone's shoulders so heavy in December. How about this — give me three days to prove the magic isn't lost."
"Three days? That's it?"
"That's it."
"Okay then, Mr. Kim." You offer a hand in his direction. "Three days."
Namjoon's eyes lock with yours, as does his hand. "It's a deal."
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The following weekend you wake to a phone call coming in from your recently-added number. Rolling out from under the covers to grab the device from the nightstand, you answer with voice still groggy with sleep. "Hello?"
"Are you still sleeping?" the caller laughs in a deep timbre.
"Shuddup." Peaking an eye open, the time on the screen reads just after eleven a.m. "It's not that late."
"Really?"
"Did you call me just to make fun of my lack of healthy sleep schedule, or did you have a point?"
"Ouch!” Namjoon exclaims playfully. “I actually did call, and it's actually perfect because I don't need you ready to go until around three this afternoon. So you can totally just go back to sleep."
You curl back under your heated blanket and revel in the warmth it provides. Beside you, Mochi curls closer, nearly sitting on your head. "Mmm sounds perfect. Wait—what?"
"You heard me." There's a hint of teasing in Namjoon's words. "It's Day 1. Be ready for an outdoor adventure by three. I'll pick you up then, okay sleepyhead?"
The butterflies rumble in your stomach at the nickname, and you clear your throat before replying. "Yep, got it. Three p.m. Outdoor adventure. Can't you tell me what it is or where we're going?"
"And ruin the surprise? No way. Just trust me, Jagi."
A squeak slips out, and you throw your hand over your mouth to hide it. "Okay, see you there—I mean then!"
You can almost hear Namjoon shaking his head as he says his goodbyes and ends the call. Despite still being sleepy and warm and cozy in your nest, you lie wide awake in bed for the next half-hour, replaying his voice over and over in your head like a well-loved record.
The day flies by, and eventually it's approaching three. You've dressed to impress while still trying to keep it casual. Despite this being a date, it's still casual. You like Namjoon a lot, and you hope he likes you as well. However, outside of conversations at the café, you haven't spent a lot of time together yet. This is as good a second-first impression as any, and you intend to make the most of it.
Grabbing your winter coat and scarf, you scurry down the stairs and spot Namjoon lingering by the entrance with two cups in his hands. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater with a dark grey jacket over top, his usual scarf looped twice around his neck. A beanie covers his head, but bits of his platinum hair still stick out in places. Slung across his shoulder is a brown leather backpack. He always looks nice, that much you know, but the fact that today he looks nice for you makes you sickly happy.
He flashes a smile as you bound out the door. "You look rested," he teases, then offers you one of the cups.
Taking it with a nose scrunch, you look down at the order on the side, seeing that it's your usual order. "How did you know!"
He shrugs. "I have my ways."
"Was it Lisa?"
"Maybe..." He straightens up and nods his chin towards the nearby station. "Follow me for our first adventure!"
After boarding the train to Itaewon, you can't help but wonder where he might be taking you. Your mind goes through all of the things to do in Itaewon, but the list is lengthy. From his excited and proud expression, you know Namjoon has been looking forward to this all day, just as you have.
After exiting fifteen minutes down the line, Namjoon reaches for your free hand. "May I...?"
Your fingers close the distance, glove-covered palm clasping his. "Lead the way."
Namjoon grins, then tugs on your hand as you exit the station. Once outside in the frigid air, you see your breath come out in puffs of fog. You tighten your scarf around your neck and allow your companion to usher you down the sidewalk, towards a clearing in the colorful buildings of Itaewon-do.
Another block or so, and you see the direction in which he's heading. A large sign along the way reads, "Grant Hyatt Seoul Ice Rink" in bold Hangul. Your eyes widen as the realization hits you, and the excitement inside you grows. "How did you know I've wanted to go ice skating!"
Namjoon shuffles up to the ticket counter, replying over his shoulder, "Um...lucky guess?"
As he purchases your tickets, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings.  The trees are glowing from the lights covering every branch and trunk. They surround the rink and give a glow from within that is so much softer and more intimate than the harsh lighting of the city. The Hyatt Hotel stands as a black silhouette against the horizon. In the opposite direction, you can see N. Seoul Tower already lit up as the afternoon lighting shifts to evening. Projectors shine shapes of glittering snowflakes across the ice, giving another layer of ambient lighting to the rink.
"I haven't been since I was a kid," you add, staring at the exterior of the open-air rink with awe. Namjoon hands you the ticket, which you use for entrance and skates before shoving it into your jacket pocket. "Have you ever been before?"
"Yeah, a...few times. Hey, what size shoe are you?" When you tell him, Namjoon grabs a pair of skates from the shelf beside the ticket booth and gestures for you to sit on the bench across from it. "It can be tricky to lace your skates properly," he commentates as he kneels down in front of you and begins to untie your boots. "It's really something you have to adjust yourself, so let me know when I'm close?"
Not having any words to respond at his sudden closeness, you nod the affirmative and watch in silence as he puts one boot to the side, slips the skate on with ease, and begins to adjust the laces like a professional. After repeating the movements with your other skate, he taps your knee and looks up at you.
"Too loose? You want them to be as tight as you can handle to keep your ankles steady."
Moving your feet, you shake your head from side to side. "A bit more. I'd hate to have Day 1 turn into a trip to the E.R."
"Definitely, nothing says ‘Christmas magic’ like an emergency room visit," he laughs, adjusting your laces as you requested. "How's that?"
"Much better, thank you."
After lacing up your skates as tight as you can handle, Namjoon stands and offers you an arm. He helps you waddle over to the entrance, gently sliding you onto the ice despite your shaky knees and flailing arms. You soon realize that it might be best to hold tight to the barrier and stick only to the periphery.
He doesn't follow you on at first. When you turn and look back for him, he waves you on. "You go ahead. I need to grab my skates first."
"Mmm fine, but if I break my neck trying to catch your ass, you're paying for ramen after. Got it?"
Namjoon gives you two thumbs ups as he lets you go onto the ice. "Loud and clear."
Eventually, you begin tugging yourself along, trying but failing to keep up with the traffic of more experienced skaters. Even compared to those half your age, or even less, you're the child on this rink.
About half-way around the rink, you spot Namjoon making his way towards the entrance. Waving your hand, your smile widens when he sees you. He waves back, nearly bumps into the person ahead of him at the gate, and you murmur to yourself, "This should be good."
Namjoon hits the ice. He's not like the barreling disaster you are, but like a graceful swan. It catches you off-guard; if anything, you expected him to fall flat on his face or tumble over a child on his way over to you on the opposite side. He needs no assistance from the railing, nor does he struggle to cross the center and come to a full stop in front of you. His skates make a graceful scraping sound, and his stance is one of a professional. Even his skates are different than yours; they're custom, and you realize that must've been what he was carrying in his backpack.
You assume the awestruck look on your face is the reason for his smirk and laughter. He does a spin for dramatic affect as he closes the distance between you. "Surprised?"
"For starters! How the hell are you so graceful? You're literally twirling around on one foot on a frictionless surface, and I can barely make a left turn!"
The platinum blond gives you a look like you're still missing the point, then extends his hand. "C'mon, I can help you more than the railing can."
"Promise not to sue me if I break your face by crashing into you?"
"Promise, now grab my hand and skate!"
Your hands in his, you take the leap of faith and separate from the barrier around the oblong rink. Namjoon slowly skates backwards, carrying you the whole way. Your eyes remain glued to your trembling feet, careful not to have the blades deviate too far out to one side or the other.
"Look at you!" he cheers, ever the positive one. "A whole two minutes on your feet."
"Shut up."
You won't deny that your progress surprises even you. Despite having to hold both his hands for the first ten minutes, then eventually one as you skate side-by-side for the following half-hour, you're more adept at skating than you thought you would be.
"You think you can try on your own for a lap?" he inquires.
Giving a hesitant nod, you let go of Namjoon's hand, saying, "Don't leave my side, okay?"
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Taking a deep breath in, you push one skate out in front of the other and move yourself forward. The other follows after, and you get about twenty feet before you stumble and nearly fall face-first. Luckily, Namjoon keeps his promise and wraps his arms around your waist before you crash.
"Good try!" he exclaims, keeping his arms around your middle even after you regain your balance. "You got pretty far, actually."
You give an awkward chuckle and lay your nervous hands over his at your hip. "Maybe I'm not quite ready for a free-skate yet."
"No worries." He lets his arms drop and retakes your hand to steady you. The dimples appear next to his smile as he adjusts your beanie on your head, which had nearly fallen off in your almost-fall. "But I gotta say, you didn't have to fall for me on Day 1."
"So smooth!" You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a playful shove, only to gasp and reach back for him when he naturally skates backwards at the push. "Nevermind, I take it back. Please don't leave me in the middle of the rink."
Namjoon lets out a loud laugh, nearly doubling over as you cling to him. "You're so cute."
As you skate together, you keep getting the feeling that Namjoon has spent far more time on the ice than you previously assumed. After you get the hang of it yourself and are able to wobble along beside him without a constant hand to hold, he smiles a proud, wide smile.
"See? I knew you could do it!"
You raise your eyebrows at him. "Still nowhere near close to you."
"That's what a lot of people say," he brushes it off.
"Way to brag there, Joon," you snort, then immediately freeze in place so suddenly that you nearly fall over again. "Wait—you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"
Namjoon's smile shows his dimples, and they deepen with his reply. "Not a bit." The song changes, playing the symphonic piece "Noel on Ice." Namjoon's face lights up, and he turns back to you with a wink. "Watch me?"
Nodding affirmatively, you release his hand and let him skate towards the center of the rink. His gaze remains on you as he spins to a stop in the middle, then turns his gaze downwards. Arms still at his sides, and his shoulders straighten. You await with bated breath for the next note.
The melody lifts, and Namjoon's arms follow suit. Piano notes drip across the chilled air, and the violin prompts an extension of his hands upwards. Then he moves, gracefully flowing from one movement to the next, as if this has been an ice dance built into his very being. The harp and cello urge him to move faster, spinning like a dancer across their stage.
Namjoon spins into the air, fully coming off the ice. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth out of fear, but he lands it with ease, shifting into his next series of steps like a professional. Flawless and practiced, he's caught the attention of everyone at the rink. As you look around, you see everyone else focused intently on the skater. Some even have their phones out to record. Not just one or two people, either; you see at least a half dozen with their cameras trained on Namjoon.
That in particular has you perplexed. Brows pulling together, you shift your eyes back to Namjoon. The piece is nearing its close, and he's moved back to the center of the ice. Twirling in place, he's moving like a spinning top. Always in a single place, so fast you can barely see, gracefully shaving ice under him so that snowflakes fall around him. He lowers, nearly sitting as he continues to twirl on one foot. The music grows to its crescendo. Slowly, he rises up and extends his hands towards the sky.
And then it hits you.
There's a reason why his face, his voice, and his presence is so familiar to you. You couldn't put your finger on it until just now, but the way he moves on the ice like he's the only one in the room — like it's a second home — brings you back to one of the first days you had in Seoul. That first day, at the Incheon Airport, the man you saw being bombarded with press and fans. Then again on the screens in the lobby of the immigration center. And again a few nights ago on the news.
RM Nam. South Korea's pride and joy, their greatest skater, the man bound for the Winter Olympics until a training injury earlier in the year put him out for the season. You're not into sports, but even you knew him by name and the tragedy that had occurred.
That legendary skater was the one in front of you now. He hadn't mentioned it, and you didn't suspect a thing until today. While definitely a shock, you can't help but be in awe of him even more. He isn't just good on the ice — he's like nothing you've ever seen.
As the music comes to a close, Namjoon skates to a halt. His spin finishes, and he ends with a ending pose bow. Clearly out of breath and shoulders heaving, his gaze shifts to you once again. Your smile widens, and you throw your hands up as you cheer. The others around you begin to clap, but you're by far the most enthusiastic one there.
Suddenly, Namjoon's persona returns to that of a shy and humble one. He bows again in the directions of the viewers, then scurries out from the center and back to you. Eventually, those around you begin to skate once more, ignoring the fact that one of the biggest sports icons in all of Korea is among them.
Namjoon runs a hand over his bleached hair, his smile sweet and his eyes a little nervous as he approaches. You shake your head in awe, letting a surprised laugh slip out.
"Okay, I see exactly what you're doing now. You suggested ice skating because you're Olympic-level! That's totally cheating, by the way."
Namjoon skids to a stop in front of you, as graceful as his takeoff. Without thinking, you reach your hand for his, which he gladly takes. "Figured it out finally, did you?"
"Call me stupid, but I honestly didn't see it until just now." You shove his shoulder with your free hand, only encouraging his teasing reaction. "RM: Guessing that's a stage name?"
He adjusts the beanie over his hair and gives an affirmative gesture. "Yeah, mainly to protect my privacy. Skating world can get pretty intense, sometimes."
You move your chin towards his shoulder, recalling that's where the injury occurred over the summer. "Are you okay?"
"Oh yeah, totally okay. I go to PT a couple times a week. Mostly healed up, just can't compete for another few months. My coach has made me swear off skating until the New Year, but I figured it was worth throwing a little extra into trying to impress a pretty girl." He tilts his head to the side, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. "Did it work?"
Instead of responding verbally, you curl your finger towards you, a mischievous smile on your face. Namjoon lowers his head and skates closer to you. When he's within arm's reach, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. A giggle slips out as his eyes widen and his cheeks flush.
"So... Is that a yes?"
"Yes!" you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air and nearly falling over for the hundredth time that night.
Namjoon returns the chaste gesture to your temple as he helps you recover your balance. "Skate with me some more then?" he murmurs, adjusting your scarf around your neck with gentle fingers.
Your face hot and your stomach fluttery, you nod your response and loop your arm around his. "Only if you show me how to do that fancy twirl there at the end."
The idea has Namjoon laughing loudly. "That's my variation on the basic Scratch Spin, which took me about three months to nail perfectly in a routine."
"Then you'd better prepare to be here 'til February!"
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After skating for hours, until both of you are exhausted and ready for food, Namjoon takes you to a nearby ramen shop that's close to the train station. It's a hole-in-the-wall, with less than five tables, but with ramen you're able to find a park bench and settle down there with your backs to the city lights and your eyes on the stars overhead. You each mostly in silence, just enjoying each other's company and the delicious food. You make sure to tell your companion how great the choice was, and you insist on coming back again soon.
After wrapping up the meal and seeing the late hour on your phone, Namjoon suggests you both start heading home. "Hate to have to take a bus at this hour instead of the last train," he snickers.
Fully in agreement, you let him take your hand again as the pair of you begin to walk back home. First on the train, then on the sidewalk the short distance to your apartment building.
As you turn the corner onto your short street, your apartment in sight, you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder and sigh happily. "Thank you for today. It was just...magical."
"Christmas magic?"
You nod against his jacket, wistful and content. "Definitely."
Stopping outside your apartment, you turn towards him, not letting go of his hand. Namjoon gives you a content smile as he looks at you, one where his eyes glisten at his coming words. "Then I have a chance."
"At what?"
He reaches yet again for your scarf, moving it from around your lower face so he can cradle it in his hands. "Restoring your hope in the holidays, and your hope in yourself and your choices."
"Ooof, that's getting ahead of it, I think." You bite the inside of your cheek as a small tug of anxiety and sense of being lost pulls at the back of your mind.
But Namjoon is relentless in his pursuit, and for that you're grateful. "That's why I have two more days planned."
"Already?" you laugh.
"You bet!" he exclaims. "In fact, I'll pick you up at nine on Saturday, but don't wear a dress or skirt. Are you free then?"
"For you, absolutely."
His teeth show through his grin, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyebrows. The gesture is gentle and sweet, made even more so by the warmth of his hands on your cheeks through his gloves. Nevertheless, it leaves you breathless.
After a moment of silence, he pulls away and lowers his grasp, but you crave the contact as soon as he relinquishes it. He nods towards your apartment, as if saying, "I'm not leaving until you're home safe."
You take the hint and give a tiny wave as you enter your building. "Have a great night, Joonie," you whisper through the cracked door. "And thanks again."
Namjoon waves back. "Goodnight, [Y/n]. Sleep well."
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Saturday can't come quickly enough. You find yourself smiling more often, a joyful feeling in your heart as you go about your work shift and college classes. Even the smallest and insignificant things feel a little easier. The weather wasn't just cold anymore; it was full of beauty and hope and Christmas spirit.
Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe he was helping you turn a corner.
Right before you're ready to head downstairs to meet Namjoon at the entrance, your phone begins to buzz. Lit up on the screen is an international number, but the area code is that of your old home. The butterflies of excitement die almost instantly, shriveling up into tiny balls of anxiety in your stomach.
Even though you ignore the call, you can't resist listening to the voicemail left behind. Putting your phone on speaker, you're shocked to hear your mother's voice wishing you a Merry Christmas, saying that she and the family miss you, and that they wished you would visit so you could clear up everything that went wrong over the summer. Your throat constricts at the sickly sweet tone; her voice always did drip in honey when she wanted something, she she was trying to manipulate her child. Between her conniving control and your father's lack of respect for privacy and personal boundaries, you remember all over again why you left.
You jump as your apartment bell rings, and the small screen by the door shows Namjoon at the entrance. "[Y/n], are you up there? I texted twice...not sure if you got those."
Looking down at your screen, you see that he's right. You have two unread texts from the last five minutes that you missed due to the unexpected caller. Shaking yourself out of it, you shoot him a quick response, close everything out, and head for the ground level.
"There you are!" Namjoon greets with a grin that almost makes you forget your mother's call.
Almost.
Forcing a smile and reply, "Sorry, I don't know why I didn't see your texts."
"No worries." He waves his hand as if to say it's nothing to worry about. "Are you okay? You seem bothered about something."
You glance up at him, unable to deny he looks slightly concerned. You mirror his laissez-faire attitude and brush it off. "Totally good. Heading to the station?"
"Not this time." Namjoon gestures towards the bike parked by the corner of the building. "You ready to go?"
"Both of us, on that? Are you sure that's safe?"
"Oh yeah! Trust me." He kicks the stand down and mounts the bike, patting the extended seat behind him. "I once rode up Namsan Mountain with Seokjin on the back of this thing, and let me tell you, he's a hell of a lot bigger than you."
Knowing he's probably right, you settle yourself on the seat behind him and wrap your arms tightly around his middle. It's probably not the most well-balanced thing in the world, but you trust Namjoon more than you buy into your fear of falling. "No skirts or dresses, huh?"
"Now you get it," he laughs, pulling out onto the bike lane on the street headed into towards the older side of the city. "Unless you'd like a wardrobe malfunction."
He picks up speed and gets to an easy pace down the street. It's fast enough to get to your location speedily but slow enough that you're able to stare at the beautiful buildings and wondrous landscape around you. Even the people have an aura of happiness caused by Christmas. Had it always been this stunning? Or had you been blind to it until just now?
"Seokjin, as in Kim Seokjin, your rival?"
"So you do watch the news," he sighs. "They aren’t portraying us as friends these days, are they?"
You shake your head and rest your chin on his shoulder. "Not really. I didn't know you were friends."
Namjoon shrugs his shoulders slightly, his voice monotone. "Yeah, well, we've known each other since we were seven, got into skating together around that time, and have been friends ever since. While I wish I didn't have to sit this one out, I couldn't be happier to have him representing South Korea at the Worlds — sorry, that's what we call the World Figure Skating Championships."
"Yeah, they're kind of painting you as opposites."
"That's just what the news does, I guess. Gossip and tabloids and fan-wars. I fell on the ice and hit my shoulder pretty hard; it had nothing to do with Seokjin. He and I talked before I left, too. We're on good terms. Most of us from South Korea are friends, actually. We only get represented as enemies because it's a competition. But a lot of times we're on the same flights, in the same hotels, in the same training areas, you get the idea."
Namjoon pulls up to a stoplight at a near empty intersection, waiting silently for it to shift colors. "Is that what you meant by change of career?" you inquire.
"You're observant," he chuckles.
You turn to rest your cheek on his back. "For what it's worth, and keep in mind that I don't know the first thing about figure skating or your injury or anything like that, but as someone on the outside looking in, you're still so talented. Last week, when you were skating alone, I couldn't tell at all you were injured, and you looked like you were really enjoying it. I don't know if that means anything to you coming from a novice, but if you're still in love with skating and want to get back out there, I think you should go for it. You're still spectacular to watch, Joonie."
There's a beat of silence, but then Namjoon glances over his shoulder and winks at you. "Would you come see me perform live if I did?"
Shrugging your shoulders, you state, "Why not?"
He laughs at your silly expression, then begins to move the bike again as the light finally shifts. "That actually means a lot, [Y/n]. Thank you."
The rest of the ride is quiet, at least until you begin to hear the sounds of a bustling outdoor market. Namjoon turns the final corner, and you're elated with the stone street in an older part of Seoul. Vendors in various booths stretch out in every direction. Some sell food or drink, some sell trinkets or clothing, some even sell vintage books or vinyls or movies. Every nook and cranny has something special to offer. The sights, smells and sounds bring an enormous smile to your face as Namjoon steadies the bike to a stop beside the bicycle rack.
You hop off with his help, nearly bouncing up and down from excitement as he parks and locks his bike on the stand. "This is amazing!" Turning to him, you catch him off-guard with a tight embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him down to you.
Namjoon seems amused by your eager reaction, and he pulls you closer to him. "I thought you would like it. There's nothing quite like Christmas than a market."
After letting him go, you press a kiss to his cheek as you lower back down to your level. Namjoon's hands tenderly cradle your face, just like last time, only today he's glancing away from  your eyes and down to your lips. As your heartbeat quickens, you pull him back to you, fingers grasping at his winter jacket.
His voice is deep and soft as he asks, "May I...?"
Your cheeks flush as you nod your approval. Namjoon's dimples deepen as he lowers his face to yours, barely brushing his lips against yours in the gentlest kiss you've ever had. You close the distance, tugging at his jacket so he moves closer. He gives a tiny laugh against your mouth, then follows your guidance to deepen the kiss. One hand slips back to your hair; he gently plays with the strands.
A moment later, and you're sighing as he pulls away, both light-headed and light-hearted. Namjoon smiles down at you, gives you a surprising second peck, then pulls back with a chuckle. "You're a really cute kisser, y'know that?"
You drop your head and hide your face in the front of his coat. "Shut up."
Your companion's laughter echoes in the air around you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and places his lips briefly on the top of your head. "Are you hungry? I know where we can get the absolute best Tteok-kkochi."
Eventually you lift your head and nod, feeling your stomach rumble at the thought of rice cake skewers. Namjoon moves his arm from around your shoulders, taking your hand instead, and ushers you into the first aisle of the Christmas market.
If it was magical from the outside, it's even more so from within. Somewhere in the distance, you hear holiday music playing. Not the commercial Christmas songs you're used to, but instrumental music that plays perfectly with the sounds of the market crowds. You're awestruck by every single booth you pass, and Namjoon promises to take you back to all of them after you grab a bite to eat.
Which are well worth the walk into the interior of the market. The Tteok-kkochi are cooked to perfection, drowned in a sauce, and by far the best you've ever had. Even after circling back to the booths you missed on the way, you beg Namjoon to lead you back to get another set.
"I've found heaven," you exclaim dramatically, taking the next two from the cook behind the counter and hanging one to your companion. "I'll never have rice cake skewers this good again."
After paying, you spot a section of the market decorated with lights and colorful orbs, much like the decorations you're used to seeing in the West. "Can we go over there next?"
Namjoon spots where you're pointing and eagerly agrees. The pair of you make your way towards the greenery and decor, amazed at the giant Christmas trees decorated to perfection on the periphery of the market.
"That's a massive tree," he gasps, staring upwards. "Are those normal in America?"
"Maybe at a mall or outside a hotel or something," you reply, equally as taken back. "I've never seen one that big in person in a long time."
As you peruse the Christmas section of the market, slipping from booth to booth as the clock strikes Noon, Namjoon asks, "Have you decorated your apartment at all? I know it can be kinda hard to find stuff in Korea like you're used to."
"Not really," you admit in passing. "Between work and school and, y'know, starting a new life in a foreign country, the holidays kinda fell on the back-burner."
Namjoon taps your shoulder, ushering your attention towards the old, American Christmas movies booth a few spots away. You gasp and rush over with renewed excitement, eyes scanning eagerly over the shelves. They have just about everything, from the classics like "It's A Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Carol" to movies you grew up on like "Home Alone" and "Elf." The more you sort through the outdated DVDs, the bigger your smile gets.
"What's your favorite Christmas movie?" Namjoon asks, casually looking through the Christmas vinyls on the booth next to the movies.
"Without a doubt, Ron Howard's 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas.'"
"The one with Jim Carrey?"
"You know it!"
He laughs. "Yeah, my little sister and I watched it a lot when we were kids."
Your head perks up at the mention of a sister. "I didn't know you had siblings, either."
Namjoon nods. "Yeah, she's in college, too. Studying to be a psychologist."
"She sounds amazing."
"Yeah, the family is very proud. I know I am." He pulls out a vinyl for one of Frank Sinatra's Christmas records. "Do you have siblings?"
At the question, your gaze shifts back to the movies, hands preoccupied with finding the perfect one. "I do. A brother and a sister."
"Older?"
"Yeah..."
"What are they like?"
"A lot like my parents," you sigh, moving on to another shelf, turning your back to your companion. "Which is part of the reason I left, so..."
Namjoon senses your anxiety around the topic and rests a hand on your shoulder as he passes by. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize--"
You cut him off with a casual wave of your hand. "It's no worries, really." Spotting the record under his arm, you ask, "Find one you like?"
While he doesn't seem to buy your act, he lets the conversation go and holds up the vinyl for "Tales of Noel on Ice" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, as performed by the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra.
"You don't already have that one?" you gawk in surprise.
"I don't actually," he admits bashfully. "The title composition is one of my best free skate performances, and I have a record player at home, so why not?" He gestures to the movies. "Did you find one?"
"Oh, I don't need one! I was just looking. I don't even have a DVD player anymore."
"I do, so pick one out and maybe we can watch it sometime."
You shake your head at him, trying to subdue a chuckle. "A record player and a DVD player? You're so odd."
"But to your benefit," he reminds you with a wink, pulling out a single movie nearest him. It happens to be your favorite with Jim Carrey in all his hilarious glory on the front.
Cocking an eyebrow, you give a tiny round of applause at the luck of pulling that film out of all the others. "Well, you're going to have to invite me over sometime then."
"You can count on it."
For the next couple hours, Namjoon and you make your way through the entire market, hitting all the shops that interest and intrigue you. All the while, you talk about a plethora of things and get to know each other letter. For instance, you find out that he was born in Ilsan, not too far from where you are now, and that he hates seafood just about as much as mint chocolate. You also find out that he looks like his mother, who was the one that got him into skating to begin with. And to no one's surprise, Namjoon is actually very funny. Not only is he smart, athletic, and good looking — which alone would have caught your attention — he's got a wicked sense of humor to top it all off.
Likewise, he learns more about you. You tell him about the city you grew up in, the friends you had in high school, what you studied before you came to Korea. You tell him that along with your studies, you're really invested in writing and try to make time for that as well. It hasn't been so easy since the move, but you're hoping to get back to it in the new year.
As you approach mid-afternoon, and the final leg of the market, your phone begins to buzz. Your screen lights up with the same foreign number as before. Instantly, both your feet and your heart stop. Your shoulders tense up, and you turn to a blissfully unaware Namjoon, saying, "Hey, I gotta take this. You go on ahead."
"Are you sure?" he asks, the person in front of him not the same happy-go-lucky one as before.
You give him a nod of reassurance. "I'll catch up."
Before he can reply, you've turned and moved towards the massive Christmas trees, where there's an opening and the crowds are quieter. Despite what you told him, you don't intend on answering. Whoever is on the other end of that line, be it your mother or father or siblings, you want nothing to do with them. You do, however, want this to be over. You promise yourself to hear the message, block them, and then go run an errand after the holidays to get a new number.
After the call drops, you wait with an anxious feeling building in your stomach. Maybe they didn't leave a message. Maybe it wasn't your family after all. Maybe — 
A soft ping alerts you that you have a new message. Selecting it, you raise your phone to your ear and hear your father this time. He repeats all of what your mother said, only with a layer of frustration and authority that she didn't use. He's borderline cruel as he spouts the same old lies that you're trying to unlearn; it's your fault, it's because of you, you're the cause of it. What it is, depends on the day. This time is has to do with your family not being the same and their world falling to pieces. He uses colorful sentences, well-crafted insults, but all you hear is blame, blame, blame. 
Tears prick your eyes as the voicemail ends, and you realize you should've just deleted the message when you had the chance. A small part of you still hoped they would change, even after all this time, but you see now that it's not possible.
They will never change, and neither will you.
The pit of depression weighs down in your stomach, and loneliness tingles at the back of your throat. Why now? Out of all the times, out of all the days, why are you feeling these things now? You're out having an adventure with a man who you really like, and who you know likes you, in a city you now call home. You're far from any sadness or trauma or family or friends that once brought you down. You've left your past behind. You'd started to feel like there was hope in the holidays and in the future again, like the last year was worth the pain, like everything was starting to turn around.
But suddenly, that snake is wrapped around you again, pulling you back into old habits and old ways of thinking. It's grabbed on tight and is pulling you back into the dark, away from people you care about, away from people who care about you.
Even as you glance up at Namjoon a few stalls away, completely naïve to the painful flickers going through your mind, you feel the need to draw back. Pull away. Stay away. Go back to the security of the known, of the sad, of the lonely. It's warm and comfy, even if it hurts.
Clenching your fists, you try to silence the noise in your brain by shaking your head. The thoughts only grow louder, and the pit in your stomach gets heavier. You haven't felt a depressive episode like this in a long time. You thought they were long gone, especially now, especially with him...
"[Y/n]? Are you okay?"
Looking up, you see Namjoon's approaching you in the clearing. One hand carries the movie and vinyl he purchased for you both, but the other is outstretched towards you. While you don't pull away from his touch, you taste bile in the back of your throat.
"I—I need to go home," you mutter. "I'm starting to feel sick."
"Oh, okay, hold up I'll go get my bike and I'll take you home."
Feeling your breath quicken, you pull your gaze from Namjoon and nod shakily. The walk back to the bike rack is silent, even the crowd outside fades to a low background murmur. Namjoon places the purchased items in his bicycle carrier, then mounts it.
You follow suit, regret beginning to pile up inside you. Running isn't going to help anything, and you know he must be hurt and confused. But to you, the only thing you can do right now to protect yourself is get away from it all and go back to the place where you feel safest.
Tears burn your eyes as you curl up against him. Namjoon pedals speedily to your apartment, making the trip faster than last time. When he pulls up to the curb, you hop off without a word.
"Do you need me to walk you up?" he offers, worry causing his brows to pull together.
You shake your head and put distance between you both. "No, I'm fine. I'll...text you later, okay?"
Without another word, you turn and enter through the front, leaving Namjoon behind on the other side. Trekking up the stairs, through the door, past a mewling Mochi, you curl up on your bed and let yourself finally feel all the sadness piled up inside.
Fifteen minutes later, the waterworks flow when your phone lights up from an incoming text. Knowing exactly who it is, you grab it and text a swift message to Namjoon.
"I'm so sorry I left so suddenly. And that I ruined our day. Not feeling like myself."
"That's okay. I just got home, so I wanted to check up on you. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Do you need anything?"
"No, but thank you."
"Okay... Maybe we can try again some other time? I'd hate to let you down on Day 2."
Unable to reply, the phone turns black and you let it fall onto the duvet.
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The days leading up until Christmas Eve were long and full of guilt. You closed the café for the final time the Monday before the holiday, and with no classes to attend, you mainly stayed inside and watched the snow fall outside your tiny apartment window. Mochi kept you company, but even the small fur ball could sense that something had changed for the worse. Even she had gotten used to you being happier this December; you'd taken two steps back while attempting to take a single step forward.
Every morning, you'd spot Namjoon riding his bike past your apartment on his way to the rink where he trains. Every day, he'd stop and gaze up at the building, never sure which frosty window you were behind but melancholy just the same. He'd call and text; the former, you would never answer, but the latter, you did sporadically. Mainly at night when you thought he wouldn't be up.
He usually was.
"Was it something I did?" he asked that Tuesday before Christmas. "Did I move too fast? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"
"No. It's not you."
"Then tell me what it is. I don't want to come across as pushy, but I thought we were getting closer...and then you pull back and hide from me. From everyone. I know I don't know everything about your past or what happened before you came to Seoul, but I promised you three adventures. I still have one to make good on before Christmas."
"Joonie..."
You couldn't bring yourself to write more. The tiny part of your brain that told you that maybe this can work, maybe it's worth trying, maybe things can be different now, it was silenced by the overwhelming majority of your mind. It remembered everything from your past, from the hurt and pain, from the loneliness and fear. Despite your wish to make things right again, it was drowned out by the pure terror of being wronged again.
"Don't shut me out. Please. Let me show you things can be different now. You don't have to go at this alone, [Y/n]. Not anymore."
Pushing down the urge to cry yet again, you move your fingers to type a swift and cold reply. "I'm so sorry I wasted your time, Namjoon. I really am. I thought I was ready, but it's clear that I'm not. Please, spend Christmas with your family. Don't waste any more time on me."
And that was the end of it. You muted his notifications, ignored his calls and texts, and eventually he went silent. The day before Christmas Eve was the first you didn't hear from him, and it was the first day you felt like you'd truly fucked things up for good.
On Christmas Eve, you got an unexpected call from Lisa. Deciding to take a break from staring at an empty Word document with ever-growing frustration, you answered the call, only to be bombarded by Lisa's rambling.
"Oh, thank god! I didn't think you'd answer! I need a huge favor, and I hate to bother on such short notice on Christmas Eve, but this really cannot wait and I'll love you forever if you—!"
"—Okay, okay," you chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.
"I need you to run back to the café and grab something for me. Jungkook is on his way there, but he doesn't have a key."
"What could you possibly have left that's this important?"
"My fucking credit card."
"You've been out of town for two weeks and only just now realized you left your card?"
She heaves a frustrated sigh. "Please, just, do me this favor?"
Rolling your eyes, you pull yourself from the sofa and grab your keys on the counter. "Fine, but you owe me."
"Yes, yes, I know."
You leave the apartment in a hurry, taking the next train to the café. In less than fifteen minutes, you're at the front door. Lisa assures you that Jungkook is on his way, only twenty minutes away. After unlocking it, you make yourself at home in the lobby with a fresh white chocolate mocha. It reminds you of Yeongu, and you smile at the thought.
After about a half hour, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Lisa's text has you halting in place.
"I'm sorry to do this. You didn't really give me another choice. I crossed a line, but I think you'll thank me in the end."
Your fingers are swift typing a response. "What did you do?"
"You remember how you gave me a spare key in case you ever got locked out? Or in case you were kept at school too long and needed someone to feed Mochi?" A pause, then she adds, "He came to Busan, [Y/n]. He asked me in person what to do. Do you know how out of the way that was for him? Give him another chance. Please."
"You didn't."
"I did. I'm sorry, but you've talked about how you pull away when you get close to people. It's gone on for almost a week. It's Christmas Eve. You can hate me all you want later, but please. Go home, kiss and make up, then try to salvage Christmas."
A huff of air exits your nostrils as it hits you. Lisa's given the spare to Namjoon. Jungkook was never on his way; this was all a rouse to get you out of your apartment long enough for him to get inside. But to what end?
"He's good for you; I can tell that much already. If you ever were to give someone the benefit of the doubt and place your broken pieces in someone's hands, he's the best you're gonna find."
A pang of truth rocks through you, and while you have still a semblance of willpower, you shoot her a swift text and rush back for the station. "I'm still mad at you, but we'll talk later. I need to get home."
"Go get him!"
The series of stairs up to your apartment never felt so long. Out of breath and winded from rushing home, you find the door unlocked. Pushing through, the place you left less than an hour ago isn't the same as it was before.
The entrance hallway is glittering, multi-colored strands of twinkle lights hanging along the periphery. Fake snow lines the trim, and paper snowflakes are tossed across the furniture. Each one is unique and hand-crafted.
As you venture further, a rainbow array aurora covers your living room and kitchen. There must be at least a dozen lengthy strands of Christmas lights hung across the few items you've unpacked, circled around the sealed boxes, and framing every window and door.  Fake icicles hang on the windowsill, fake greenery lays where curtains should be, and a small Christmas tree stands at your height in the corner.
Jovial, English holiday music plays softly in the background. And humming along to the tune of The First Noel, Namjoon stands with bent-back facing you. He's finishing his final touches on the tree, ensuring that each sparkling orb and shimmering tinsel is perfect. He adjusts the star on the top with a smile to himself, oblivious still to your entrance.
For a moment, you stand in silence and watch him. Your heart is heavy but still beating. If anything, seeing him in the midst of such a sweet and selfless act makes it flutter. Even after cutting his well-planned adventure short, ignoring him for over a week, and telling him to stop speaking to you, he's still here. He came back, and he's trying to prove to you the truth he's been spouting all along.
Eventually, you blink out of your stupor and clear your throat to alert him to your presence. Namjoon turns on his heel, elbow grazing the tree just enough to send it toppling backward. He curses and lunges for it, grabbing it by the star just in time to keep it upright. His characteristic clumsiness prompts a snicker from you, one that you attempt to hide with your hand over your mouth.
Namjoon adjusts the tree and turns back to you with a bashful expression. His lips pull into a side-smile, a single dimple popping out in the process. "H—Hi..."
"Hi," you repeat back to him, letting your hand fall. Your eyes follow suit and drift to your damp, snow-covered shoes.
A beat of silence passes where neither of you knows what to say next. Then the both of you break it at once, words tumbling over each others several times in a row. You laugh to yourself and look back up at him; Namjoon smiles down at you, shaking his head at the awkward reunion.
He gestures silently to you. "Go ahead."
You clear your throat, then say, "I...I wanted to say that I owe you an apology."
He shakes his head firmly, extending his hands in a olive-branch manner. "No, you don't—"
Your feet move back, putting space between you both. "—Can I explain and finish, please? Just...hold your forgiveness until then." At your request, your companion falls silent, letting his hands fall respectfully at his side. Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, you re-calibrate your mind and prepare for your admission.
"There's a lot you don't know about me yet," you begin softly. "Ah, shit — That came out super mean. I mean, you know a lot about me. You kinda know why I moved to Korea, the situation with my family back in America, that whole thing. You know where I work and what I'm studying. You know my favorite drink of all time is a white chocolate mocha, and that my favorite customer is barely four feet tall. You know Lisa is my shield at work, and that we've become pretty close in less than a year. You know I'm a homebody and that my favorite thing to do by myself is play with Mochi and watch dramas."
You release a huff of air and raise your eyes to meet his, a wistful smile tugging the corners of your lips. "But there's a lot I haven't told you — or anyone for that matter. I've gone through...a lot of shit this year. When I moved to Seoul, my mental health was in the trash, and my self worth was in shambles. I'd just been shoved from everything I'd ever known into a foreign place."
When you pause for a moment, Namjoon's small and steady voice pipes up with a single inquiry. "I thought you left willingly?"
"I did," you state. "I've wanted to move to South Korea for a long, long time. Since I can remember. But I never thought I'd lose everything before then." Tears prick your eyes, and you lift your sleeve to wipe your nose. "Sorry."
"Don't be." Namjoon gestures towards the small sofa, and you follow his lead. You perch on a single cushion, legs folded underneath you. He takes the adjacent one, far enough to for personal space but still close enough to rest a hand on your knee. This time, you don't push him away as you catch your breath. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"No, I do, but maybe not now." You take another breath in and focus your thoughts. "I didn't mean to start all that with the intention of being the victim and making you feel bad for me. I...I told you that because I wanted you to know that there are reasons why I push people away. I've been on a journey to heal that trauma all year, but it doesn't happen overnight. But even with that, I never should have just left like that. I never should have ignored your calls and texts. I shouldn't have made you feel like you were the bad guy, or that any of this was your fault, or that you did anything wrong. You were—"
You struggle to find a word that fits what you're truly feeling, one that doesn't feel overwhelming, but the only one that comes to mind is... "You are perfect, Joonie. You're sweet and kind. You treat me like a normal person that's worth something, and I think part of me was scared of that. Especially around the holidays, I feel very fragile, and I run from things I think might hurt me."
"I would never, ever hurt you." Namjoon flashes a soft and empathetic smile. "Can I ask why you got spooked so suddenly? You looked off when I picked you up, and I know you said it was nothing, but..."
You pull your phone from your pocket and play the message for him, the one from your mother. And when he remains silent, you play the second from your father. While he listens, you watch him. The hand on your knee turns to a fist, and his jaw clenches. Part of you is relieved that someone else is reacting negatively to the messages, yet another signal to you that your choice is validated.
"I got the first that morning, but the second right before I left," you murmur. "I didn't respond, and I've blocked the numbers, but I've felt unstable since then. That's why I shut down, and why I left."
He nods, then turns off the phone. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. That's emotional abuse and manipulation. No one should have to go through that."
"I know, but I was wrong. I'm sorry for doing that and for hurting you. It was wrong, and I don't deserve you coming back again and again...even if you concocted this up with Lisa."
At your light-hearted comment, he chuckles and bites the inside of his cheek. The fist on your knee loosens back, his fingers tapping gently against your skin. "She told you, did she?"
"Yep," you chirp. "I'll thank her later."
After a moment, Namjoon's eyes flicker back up to yours. For a moment, he almost looks worried. "Are you mad?"
"Meh." For a moment, you're able to hold your composure long enough for your companion's eyes to widen in horror. "I'm just kidding," you relent, and Namjoon looks visibly relieved. "How could I be mad? Look at all this!" You gesture to the magical space around you. "It looks like a wonderland in here."
A crimson hue fills his face, and he's all of a sudden very shy about the accomplishment. "I wanted you to feel like you had a Christmas, even if it was just for one night."
Leaning your head against the back cushion of the sofa, you stare at him with a bittersweet smile on your face. "Are you mad at me?"
He shakes his head, expression more adamant about that than anything he's said so far. "Not a bit. I was worried, yes, and maybe a little disappointed. I think most of that was tied to the fact that I thought we were on the up-and-up. I saw you slowly opening up and having a good time."
"Gahhh," you groan, eyes fluttering shut with frustration at your past self. "I really fucked it up, didn't I?"
"Not really." His hand slips up your knee, and he weaves his fingers through yours. The squeeze he gives and the gaze he locks gives emphasis to his next words. "I know I don't know everything about you, just like you don't know everything about me, but I'd be lying if I said you aren't the most joyful thing I've experienced in a while. Being around you makes me happy, and the fact that this has you so down makes me want to be there for you — if you want me to. I don't blame you for anything you've done, so you have nothing to be sorry for. Honestly, after hearing those messages and some of what you've been dealing with this year, I know I would've reacted the same way. But, if it helps your peace of mind, then I forgive it all."
"Thank you," you whisper, trying to blink away the tears pricking your eyes.
Namjoon's gaze softens, and he tugs on your hand. "C'mere." You scoot closer, and he pulls you the rest of the way onto his lap and into his arms. Your legs dangle off the side of his thighs, and your head nestles in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. One hand holds tightly to yours while the other circles your waist, dipping under your sweater to rub soothing circles on your skin. Your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him even closer than before.
"Sometimes terrible, inexplicable things happen to us and it takes us months — even years — to process." Namjoon's timbre is quiet and deep, rumbling against your ear as he speaks. "Everyone goes through that, even me. But it's so much harder to face it alone. Sometimes it takes a lonely, awful Christmas to see just how out of sorts you are. I don't know everything, but if you'll have me, I'd like to stick around to find out."
"You'd still be willing to get to know me more, even after seeing me at my worst?"
"Jagi, if this is your worst, then I would hate to introduce you to sixteen-year-old Kim Namjoon. That boy was a train-wreck."
Letting a watery smile show as laughter escapes your lungs, you reach upward and wrap your arms around Namjoon's neck. He pulls you closer, hands splayed on your back and waist. A sense of relief, and something like home, floods through you. Burying your face in his neck, you allow yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. Ever patient, your companion just holds you close as you come back around.
"Enough with the heavy," he breaks the silence, pulling back and wiping his thumb across your cheeks. Nodding towards the front of the space, where your television is, you follow his line of sight. "I brought your movie and the player. If you're okay with me staying over, do you wanna watch it?"
Leaning forward, you bring your face closer to his, murmuring, "I'd love that."
Namjoon closes the final distance. Both your eyes and his flutter shut as your lips meet in the middle. You tug on the collar of his sweater, encouraging him closer as his arms tighten around your waist. In a burst of bravery, you run your hand through his platinum hair and nip at his bottom lip. He inhales abruptly, and you giggle in response.
"You're gonna be the death of me, [Y/n] [Y/l/n]," he laughs, eventually pulling back to catch his breath.
You grin mischievously at him, biting your lower lip. "Still sure you wanna stay?"
"Definitely. Oh! And I placed an order for takeout, which should be here any minute."
You burst into laughter, resting your forehead against his shoulder as joy fills your body. "You really put all your chips on me coming to my senses, didn't you?" When he shrugs, you add, "What if I had said no?"
"Then I would've been eating for two alone in my apartment," he groans.
You shake your head at his antics and playfully poke the dimple in his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”
His smile deepens at your words and gesture. “Merry Christmas, [Y/n].”
Just as he promised, food arrives at the front of your apartment a few minutes later. Namjoon hops up and volunteers to get it from the entrance, and you pop the movie into the player. Silencing the music on his phone, you select the "Play" option from the menu, and the credits begin to play over Anthony Hopkins' narration as your companion returns.
He serves up the food and delivers it to you on the sofa. With a rumbling stomach, you take it gratefully. Just as the singing begins, Namjoon settles into the seat beside you, hooking your leg over his so you maintain closeness as you devour the takeout. Neither of you have seen it in so long, and thus both of you are laughing whole-heartedly at every joke and hilarious mannerism.
After the meal is finished and the dishes are on the makeshift box side-table, you find yourself slowly slipping closer to your companion. Namjoon gladly pulls you closer, and by the middle of the movie, you're back in his lap. With the blanket wrapped around you both, his chin on your head, his arms around you with one hand tracing absent-minded patterns on the skin above your pants, you know you've never been more at home in Seoul than you are right now.
"I'm sorry I ruined your grand plans for Day 3," you murmur after a while.
Namjoon's hand on your waist halts, then changes to a reassuring, tapping pattern. "Be glad you did; this is way better than anything I had planned."
"While I have to agree, what did you have planned?"
You can hear his smile in his voice. "Well, honestly I hadn't decided between Lotte World or Seoullo 7017. You said you hadn't been to either of those, and at Christmas, they're magical. All the lights, the music, it's an absolute winter wonderland."
"Well, if I get to see you skate live, then we can definitely go to those after the solar New Year. Maybe...Maybe even call it a date?"
Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, one that makes you grin to yourself and sigh peacefully. His reply is loud and clear, a promise reverberating through his chest. "I think that sounds perfect."
As the movie continues, you relax and think back on everything that's happened this year. All your concerns and worries you had a few weeks prior, at the beginning of December, they all seem so far away now. Even those anxieties brought up recently feel as if they're resolved. he sense is comparable to that of a chapter ending and a new one is being written. And this time, you're the one holding the pen.
At the resolution of the film, you realize that what Namjoon set out to do over a series of adventures truly did come to fruition. Be it luck or fate or whatever you want to call it, he really has given you that spark of hope in the Christmas season. It's something you thought you'd lost, or perhaps you'd left it in America along with many other things. He's brought it back to life, and so much more along with it.
All that magic, all that wonder, all that love and hope and joy — Namjoon is right. It hasn't disappeared from the world, and you haven't outgrown the things you used to feel during the holiday season. It's all still right here, in front of you and around you, waiting to be taken with grateful hands and heart. Maybe it's not in the form it used to be, nor is it in the place it used to be, but neither are you. Both you and your home have changed this year. But despite it all, you are still here, still striving to love yourself and your new life, still trying to let the magic find you.
And this year, because of a wonderful person named Kim Namjoon, you had all the love and magic you could ever need.
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hollenka99 · 3 years
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Unus Annus - November
354. Accepting the Truth, 6:11, 2.8M (Nov 1st) - While sitting by the pool, Mark and Ethan announce that a livestream will happen on the 13th so that the audience can join them in reminiscing over the past year and watching the channel be deleted live.
355. The Unus Annus Last Supper, 26:58, 2.6M (Nov 2nd) - Amy creates a 7 course meal for Mark and Ethan based on various past videos. This includes eggnog with bug biscuits, them having 3 minutes to eat a raw onion and edible items of a mature nature.
356. Being Brutally Honest with Each Other, 26:14, 2.2M (Nov 3rd) - Mark and Ethan reflect on how well they have worked together during the course of the channel’s run. Some things that were revealed consisted of them having to re-evaluate their communication after the wall punch, Mark committing to bits even if they start going a little far and how Ethan could build his acting skills. There is a heartfelt moment where Ethan expresses how grateful he is to have Mark as a friend and someone to learn off of, which ends in tears.
357. Recreating Every Single Unus Annus Video, 45:11, 3.2M (Nov 4th) - Amy reads out the title of videos in chronological order while Mark and Ethan do something quick to re-enact that video. Alexa misinterprets a command, some episode segments are just them wondering who came up with the titles and Amy gets confused by a few titles that state she shouldn’t know about them.
358. All Our Video Ideas That Never Happened, 25:13, 1.8M (Nov 5th) - They discuss the videos that never were, including potential collabs, things the pandemic prevented from happening and ideas that were best left not attempted. 
359. Who’s Cutting Onions In Here???, 22:24, 2M (Nov 6th) - The two of them spend the entire video cutting onions and talking about the channel. They discuss their expectations when they started the channel, how they were affected by the deaths of family members and how they would like to die.
360. The 1st Annual Unus Annus Roast, 16:41, 1.7M (Nov 7th) - On Twitter, they invited the viewers to send in their roasts. They just laugh at most of them but a few they roast the poster back. One of the cameras produced corrupted footage so they had to lipsync at times. 
361. God’s Fitness Test, 22:58, 1.9M (Nov 8th) - Along with their personal trainers, they form two teams which consist of Mark and Alex vs Ethan and Andre. They do push ups where you have to have all four limbs airborne during part of it, a burpee hybrid, a race where Mark and Ethan carry their trainers on their backs, weightlifting with squats and a sprinting challenge. 
362. Saying Goodbye to All Our Guests, 39:44, 2.2M (Nov 9th) - Mark and Ethan call up some of the people they’ve worked with in videos over the past year to thank them. Upon learning The Basement LA (where they did the escape room in December) was in financial trouble due to the pandemic, they offer to donate the ad revenue from the escape room video to help them out.
363. Everything’s Legal If You’re Dead, 24:50, 2.2M (Nov 10th) - Mark and Ethan attempt to make breakfast with sex toys again. However, this time they steal the products they got from the shop and Mark’s lawyer Ryan tries to discourage them from their plans of insurance fraud.
364. 7 Minutes in Heaven | 7 Minutes in Hell, 12:41, 1.9M (Nov 11th) - In new inflatable saunas, they are sent to Heaven and Hell with items previously featured in past videos. Ethan goes to Heaven where he receives the scent of essential oils, kiwis, a cupping session using a mouth instead of the cups and wax on his face. Mark, meanwhile, is subjected to Hell where the aromatherapy is of the onion variety, his mouth is filled with hot dogs and the straw his dogs may have used as a toilet is laid at his feet.
365. The Unus Annus Annual Sleepover, 17:17, 2.3M (Nov 12th) - Ethan goes to Mark’s home to spend the night. They shoot cans while the other hides behind the targets, make popcorn as well as friendship bracelets and play truth or dare. Ethan decorates his bracelet for Mark with 'My Pal Annus' while Mark puts 'EEF' inbetween Takis that had been in his mouth. Towards the end, the two of them share a glass of champagne before settling down for the night. At various points, the signature ticking sound is heard.
366. Goodbye., 12:00:00, 1M (Nov 13th - Nov 14th) - This is the farewell livestream. The two of them sit with a television that displays the timer inbetween them. Throughout the 12 hours, they show the editors’ highlight reels, watch and comment on a few videos, look through fanart and memes as well as welcome guests. When there’s around 3 hours to go, Ethan gets 00:00:00 tattooed on his left arm by DanielleSkyeee. They promise that if the stream receives 1 million likes, they will reveal the inside of their coffin and possibly get inside. With less than an hour to go, this does indeed happen, with the fake eulogies making them emotional and the coffin is dubbed the ‘Cry Box’. As the hours become not only minutes but seconds, Mark, Ethan and Amy gather around the laptop so they can press the delete button together. The clock finally reaches 00:00:00, leaving the audience with a black screen as well as a channel that no longer exists.
1. Unus Annus, 1:52, 10M (Nov 15th) - Introductory video explaining the premise of the channel.
2. Cooking with Sex Toys, 12:42, 4.6M (Nov 15th) - The guys buy a bunch of sex toys and use them to make some bacon, eggs and pancakes. Towards the end, someone spots Mark being fed while wearing a gag.
3. Purging Our Sins with a Neti Pot, 11:18, 4.8M (Nov 16th) - They clear their noses with Neti Pots, essentially flooding it and triggering a drowning sensation. Towards the end, the spiral screen appears where Mark and Ethan thank the audience for their initial reaction to the channel, which lead to the intro video becoming #1 on trending. They announce that if the channel reaches 1 million subscribers within a week, a viewer who helped spread the word will be hand delivered the button. Otherwise, Mark will have his nipples pierced.
4. Hot Dog'd To Death, 11:18, 3.3M (Nov 17th) - They attempt to eat 60 hot dogs in 10 minutes. Ethan struggles to work out how long 360 seconds is. The are certain Chica could beat Joey Chestnut's record of 71 any day.
5. Making Our Own Sensory Deprivation Tank, 13:44, 2.7M (Nov 18th) - They filled a pool with salts, blindfold themselves and put headphones on. To mess around, they pretend to try drown each other.
6. The Good Kind of Cupping, 11:59, 2.7M (Nov 19th) - They attempt cup stacking. Mark is better at it than Ethan. The two of them end up trying to walk on all fours while wearing the cups like some sort of cryptid. This is also where they announce the winner of the 1M play button (Kingkasuma 2.0). The next challenge is also announced, get it to 2M subs within a week so a viewer has the chance to meet Mark and Ethan while appearing in a video or Ethan will destroy the Barrel with a bat.
7. The Bad Kind of Cupping, 13:36, 8.8M (Nov 20th) - Mark and Ethan place suction cups on each other. At one point, Ethan is unable to detach a cup and gets very stressed about it.
8. The Worst Kind of Cupping, 10:17, 3.1M (Nov 21st) - They react to Two Girls, One Cup before trying to see if they can find out where the girls are now. This is Mark’s first time watching it and he does not have a good time.
9. Ethan Will Be Kicked in the Balls, 7:30, 4.2M (Nov 22nd) - They plan to use those inflatable balls that you can run around in. Ethan struggles to inflate his so he goes to a shop to ask they can help him with a pump. The staff are nice and chuck it to him via a window. He reaches his car, only to realise he can't fit it in without deflating it a little. Ethan does indeed get kicked in the balls at the end.
10. Doing Each Other's Makeup in the Dark, 12:08, 2.2M (Nov 23rd) - Mark and Ethan blindly apply makeup to one another. There is a risk of blackface when Mark gets into the bronzer but Amy is able to warn him to be careful. Ethan uses blush for its intended purpose and as lipstick. When they look at themselves in a mirror, he compares himself to the little girl wearing makeup while in a carseat. You can tell Amy is the one editing due to her written comments.
11. Baby Hands Operation, 8:29, 2.7M (Nov 24th) - Mark and Ethan assemble and then play Operation while wearing baby hands. When Calamity Pete's buzzing annoys them, they begin waterboarding him and are only able to remove the foreign object after hitting him hard enough to accidentally project the piece. This is where the 'Oh My Fucking God' meme originates.
12. Mark and Ethan Summon a Ghost, 18:02, 4M (Nov 25th) - This is framed as a kind of found footage documentary. While at Ethan’s home, they form a pentagram out of candles before playing Bloody Mary and Charlie Charlie. It ends with them getting attacked by a ghost.
13. 2 Truths and 1 Lie -- Waxing Edition, 16:49, 4.5M (Nov 26th) - They play 2 truths and a lie where getting it wrong means a body part gets waxed. The body part is determined by a spinning randomiser wheel. Korea is mentioned during both times the spinner lands on pubic hair.
14. Poopsie Sparkly Critters (a slime surprise...), 12:24, 4.3M (Nov 27th) - Mark and Ethan buy Poopsie Sparkly Critters, a toy that will eject slime from either their butt (poop) or mouth (spit). They play around with the toys, adding glitter to the slime as instructed. This is the first time ‘Martha Maywho’ (Martha May Whovier from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas) is mentioned.
15. Play-Doh Thanksgiving, 10:35, 2.2M (Nov 28th) - They create a thanksgiving meal with only Play-Doh. A tray full of ‘food’ that are the appropriate colours is created, including a tiny live turkey made by Ethan. A mega turkey is also made using a conglomerate of the remaining Play-Doh. Mark and Ethan then sample their creation.
16. Helium Therapy, 14:55, 3.3M (Nov 29th) - The two of them inhale helium then discuss various topics, including how they’d kill each other, childhood misadventures and their romantic pursuits involving an abundance of Abigails (plus a Sarah).
17. Drawing Memes from Memory, 10:53, 2.6M (Nov 30th) - With drawing pads and scented coloured markers, Mark and Ethan attempt to draw old memes with Amy telling them their prompts.The ‘This is fine’ dog, dat boi, Rebecca Black, dancing baby, the Numa Numa guy, dikbutt, condescending Willy Wonka and trollface all make an appearence. They spend nearly as much time sniffing the markers as they do drawing.
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introvertguide · 3 years
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The Apartment (1960); AFI #80
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The next film on the list that we reviewed was the one of the last black and white films to win best picture, The Apartment (1960). The film actually held the title of last B&W Best Picture winner for 50 years until The Artist came along in in 2011. Along with Best Picture, the film was nominated for 10 Oscars and won Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Art Direction, and Best Editing. The film also won Best Picture from the Golden Globes, the BAFTAs, the Director’s Guild Awards, and the Critic’s Circle Awards. Truly a great synthesis of acting, directing, cinematography, music, and story, this movie is one of the lesser known greatest films of all time. I have more to say about this film, but I want to go over the story in all of its excellence. But first...
SPOILER ALERT!!! THIS COMEDY HAS LEGITIMATE SURPRISES AND SUBJECT MATTER THAT WOULDN’T FLY TODAY!!! TRULY A GREAT FILM THAT NEEDS TO BE SEEN!!! I STRONGLY SUGGEST WATCHING IT INSTEAD OF JUST READING THE STORY LINE!!!
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An opening run of establishing shots with a voice over by the main character lets the audience know that he is a drone accountant at a giant firm with little chance to move up in the world. C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) is a lonely office drudge at a national insurance corporation in New York City. He has lucked out and found a way to leverage his home in order to climb the corporate ladder. Baxter allows four company managers to take turns borrowing his Upper West Side apartment for their extramarital liaisons, which he manages with a detailed schedule. Baxter has not seen any movement, but he is constantly offered the promise of a promotion since he is a “team player.” 
One of the serious down sides of this ploy is that his apartment is in constant use and the bosses are making a mess and drinking all his liquor. C.C. has no place to go some nights so he stays and works late. Because C.C. is constantly going in and out and people can hear women in his apartment, he is starting to develop a different kind of reputation with the other tenants. While unable to enter his own apartment when it is in use, his neighbors assume that their neighbor is a playboy bringing home a different woman every night.
C.C. is able to get glowing performance reports from his four managers and he is able to submit them to the personnel director, Jeff D. Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray), in hope of a promotion. Sheldrake promises to promote him, but demands that he also receive use of the apartment for his own affairs, beginning that night. As compensation for such short notice, he gives Baxter two theater tickets to The Music Man. After work, C.C. asks Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine), an elevator operator in the office building, to go to the musical with him. She agrees but goes first to meet with a "former fling," who turns out to be Sheldrake, and let him know there will be no more meetings. When Sheldrake dissuades her from breaking up with him and promising to divorce his wife for her, they go to the apartment as poor Baxter waits forlornly outside the theater.
Later, at the company's raucous Christmas party (there is dancing on the tables and the lamest strip tease of all time), Fran is told by Miss Olsen (Edie Adams), Sheldrake's secretary, that Sheldrake has also had affairs with her and other women employees. Later at Baxter’s apartment, Fran confronts Sheldrake with his lies. Sheldrake maintains that he genuinely loves her, but that he has no intention of splitting up with his wife. He then leaves to return to his suburban family as usual and Fran is so depressed that she finds sleeping pills in the apartment bathroom and attempts suicide.
Baxter learns through finding a dropped hand mirror that Fran is the woman Sheldrake has been taking to his apartment, so he goes to a bar and lets himself be picked up by a married woman. When they arrive at his apartment, he is shocked to find Fran in his bed, seemingly dead. He sends his pick-up away and enlists the help of his neighbor, Dr. Dreyfuss (Jack Krushen), to revive Fran without notifying the authorities. I should not laugh, but it is pretty funny that the doctor goes straight to slapping Fran in the face to wake her up. The actors did not hold back; he is slapping her in the face really hard, so much so that you can tell her cheeks are reddening even in black and white. Baxter makes Dreyfuss believe that he was the cause of the incident and, scolding his neighbor for his apparent philandering, Dreyfuss advises him to "be a mensch, a human being."
As Fran spends two days recuperating in the apartment, C.C. takes care of her, and a bond develops between them, especially after he confesses to having attempted suicide himself over unrequited feelings for a woman who now sends him a fruitcake every Christmas. While they play a game of gin rummy, Fran reveals that she has always suffered bad luck in her love life. As Baxter prepares a romantic dinner, one of the managers arrives with a woman. Although Baxter persuades them to leave, the manager recognizes Fran and informs his colleagues. Later confronted by Fran's brother-in-law, Karl Matuschka, who is looking for her, the managers direct Karl to the apartment out of jealousy. At the apartment, Karl's anger at Fran for her behavior is deflected by Baxter, who again takes responsibility. Karl punches C.C. (and interviews with Lemmon revealed that the punch did land), but when Fran kisses him for protecting her, he just smiles and says it "didn't hurt a bit."
Sheldrake learns that Miss Olsen told Fran about his affairs, so he makes the poor choice of firing the woman who knows of all his dealings, and she retaliates by meeting with Sheldrake's wife, who promptly throws her husband out. Sheldrake believes that this situation just makes it easier to pursue his affair with Fran. Having promoted C.C. to an even higher position, which also gives him a key to the executive washroom, Sheldrake expects Baxter to loan out his apartment yet again. Baxter gives him back the washroom key instead, proclaiming that he has decided to become a mensch, and quits the firm.
That night at a New Year's Eve party, Sheldrake indignantly tells Fran what happened. Realizing she is in love with Baxter, Fran abandons Sheldrake and runs to the apartment. At the door, she hears what sounds like a gunshot. Fearing that Baxter has attempted suicide again, she frantically pounds on the door. Baxter answers, holding a bottle of champagne whose cork he had just popped in celebration of his plan to start anew. As the two settle down to resume their gin rummy game, Fran tells C.C. that she is now free too. When he asks about Sheldrake, she replies, "We'll send him a fruitcake every Christmas." He declares his love for her, and she replies, "Shut up and deal."
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This film is one of the most praised movies of all time, but it is not one of the most generally well known. This is probably due to the subject matter, although It’s A Wonderful Life also deals with suicide and is one of the America’s most popular family films. The problem is most likely that extra marital affairs by big company management as a normal thing was highly frowned upon. With the whole #MeToo movement, it seems that this kind of philandering culture might very well have been a known problem for decades. A movie based around the premise that office managers need a nice place to have sex with secretaries and elevator girls would not have been acceptable under the Hays Code. This is also the second film on the AFI list where Fred MacMurray plays a bad guy before being the understanding patriarch on My Three Sons and the first person honored as a Disney Legend in 1987. Fun fact, MacMurray was an uncredited extra in a film called Girls Gone Wild in 1929.
Billy Wilder knew that this was going to be a divisive film due to content, but he also had the confidence that everything would work out following the massive success of his previous film, Some Like It Hot. Wilder had considered a film based on adultery back in the 1940s but was unable to get funding at the time due to the Hays Code. The film was also based on a real life Hollywood drama in which an agent was shot by a producer over an affair (in which a low level employee apartment was used) as well as a friend of a co-writer who returned home to a dead ex-girlfriend following a break-up. 
It is amazing to think that this film is described as a comedy. There are office politics in which mid-level managers use local celeb status to take advantage of their subordinates. There are half a dozen cheating husbands that string along their affairs. There are characters so hurt that they would rather die than deal with what is done with them. There are raging parties at work where everyone gets massively drunk and dance on the desks. Women are treated like objects that either need to be protected with violence or thrown away. And yet the film is legitimately fun with characters that are worth rooting for.
Some of the success rides on the fabulous acting of Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine and the witty dialogue written by I.A.L. Diamond. In fact, the dialogue and limited characters feels a lot like a stage play, which come to fruition in the form of Promises, Promises on Broadway by Burt Bacharach, Hal David, and Neil Simon. Dealing with real sets and locations, however, resulted in some colds and sickness since the actors were really out in the New York snow. Some other realism in the film came from both lead actors taking blows for the film: Shirley MacLaine got proper slapped by the doctor and Jack Lemmon was really punched by the brother-in-law.
A stand out aspect for me in this film which I talk up quite a bit is the cinematography. I have used many screen grabs from the film and used them as my avatar. I identify with the feeling of being used for something which made a mid manager look good while allowing them to do bad things. In fact, I am sure that everyone has felt like a Baxter at some point, and it is great to see him stand up for himself. Here are a couple of screen grabs (besides the top photo above) that I have used:
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That lonely man in the middle of countless empty desks, that look of frustration when others are using your things to live a better life than you, and that time that love makes utility become fun and gadgets seem pretentious. It is very easy for me to get lost in how much I love this film. It has been far and away my favorite find from the AFI Top 100 between when I first saw the film in 2014 and now.
So, should the film be on the top 100 list? It has the awards and the history along with being a fantastic film. Of course it belongs on the list. Would I recommend it? Yes. This film is the type that makes people like me want to go through lists like this. I had never heard of the film in 2014 and it floored me how good it was. Each time I watch I appreciate it more, and the whole film project becomes well worth my time and effort. This film is so good, it affirms my life choices. I invite and implore you to check it out for yourself.
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autisticchicc · 3 years
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Autism and Love
TW: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse, drug-related metaphor
Love and obsession, for me, are separated by a very thin line. Even if I weren’t autistic, I know I would still love fiercely, but I also know that autism has a profound effect on the way that I feel and express love.
In my life there have been numerous occasions where I thought I was in love, and I often still debate with myself about whether I have ever been ‘in love’. Nowadays I tend to take the view that love is something very personal, and just because it doesn’t last doesn’t make it any less valid. Being someone who is still on good or even great terms with all of my ex partners, I’d say I absolutely loved them at one point in my life. Maybe I still do love them, but I live a strictly categorised life. That love is now a purely a platonic love that comes from knowing and trusting someone for a long time. That ability to categorise so strictly is something some of my exes have had a hard time coming to terms with, I am quick to move them into the platonic love category and keep them there. Once someone has been placed in the platonic category, they do not leave. I don’t get back with ex-partners, and I don’t actually think its possible due to that strict categorisation.
My very first boyfriend sent me a message the other day asking if I ever still think about him. I replied honestly and said that I do not. I think that this comes from the strict categorisation too. If you are my friend, I think about you, but not that often. I have a lot of things happening in my head at all times, a sensory cornucopia that is exhausting to sort through, a conscious stream of five or six trains of thought, and my special interests. Special interests are a really intriguing factor in the context of autistic love, because I believe that the intense focus and adoration we treat our interests with absolutely translates to the people we fall in love with.
Anyone who has been close friends with me while in a relationship knows how insufferable I am when I love someone. I talk about them at any given opportunity, for longer than the other person probably cares to hear about it at times. When I love someone, they become a source of great inspiration, I find the characters I write resembling them, I could spend hours editing pictures and videos of them, my artwork is littered with their image. Love, for me, is an all-encapsulating thing. It invades every aspect of my life, consciously or subconsciously. They become the most beautiful person in my eyes, I drink in their image as though dehydrated. Curiously, even things I perhaps did not like about them before suddenly become things I look at fondly. Something about that shift from like to love, it is a very powerful shift for me.
Ironically, I’m not very forthright with my expressions of love. After mulling it over for years, I’ve realised that I’ve been conditioned to believe that love and pain go hand in hand. When you love someone, you must expect them to hurt you. At least, that’s what I thought until I deconstructed why I thought that. I had become accustomed to people weaponising my love for them, using it to blackmail me emotionally or to excuse physical abuse. As such, although I feel so deeply for the people I love, I am always very anxious about showing it in ways that can be used against me. I don’t show them the story or the art that I created inspired by them, for fear that they might think me obsessed for spending so much time on something pertaining to them.
I get very embarrassed when performing acts of service for my partners. I enjoy tidying and cleaning a lot, and I often want to do it for my partners to make their lives easier, but I get scared that they will think I’m being subservient and that they can take advantage of me. When I see my partner enjoying something or fostering a talent, I desperately want to invest in it, buy them tools and find resources so that they can develop it further, but am scared that they will think me strange and over-enthusiastic. I’m the kind of partner that loves extremely hard, and wants to express it as such, but I cannot quite get over the shame.
I have only recently been able to engage in non-sexual physical touch without flinching. Learning that touch is your love language when you have been shying away from it for years is a strange thing. It almost feels like a betrayal of sorts. Why was I denied this thing that I love for so long? And the reality is, it was a part of that fear. I have to be vulnerable with someone in order to allow them to touch me. Vulnerability has never come easily for me, although I always desperately wanted it. Finding someone that I can entangle limbs with, that I can kiss and hug on a whim, that I can show physical affection in my ‘weird’ autistic ways with has been very therapeutic for me. For the first time, I feel like I can have vulnerability and touch without it being thrown back in my face. It feels desired and reciprocated, not only do I want to touch and hold this person, but they want to touch and hold me too.
Another lesson within that has been ensuring that while I maintain my tough, outer visage, I am honest about needing to be soft and fragile sometimes. I have always been forced into being strong and resilient, it was never a conscious choice that I made for myself. I was forever pushed to be strong for other people, constantly making sure that those that needed me didn’t have to see me struggling or breaking under pressure. I never had someone I felt I could truly cry in front of, ugly, drunken sobbing type of crying. At least not without feeling judged or treated like a flight risk. Having someone I can be unapologetically sad in front of and they don’t force me to be strong for their own comfort feels so alien to me, but the relief it fills me with is immense. I am no longer pretending, and I am no longer embarrassed to be fragile. I can break down in front of this person and they will never question my strength.  
While crying and vulnerability are certainly an obvious hurdle for plenty of people in relationships, for autistic people there is the added stress of getting used to unmasking in front of a partner. I didn’t get diagnosed for a very long time, which will tell you just how good I am at masking. As a Hispanic girl, a lot of my behaviours weren’t reprimanded too much. Being loud and aggressive is normal in Spanish culture, and oftentimes isn’t even interpreted as aggression the way it is in the UK. Conversely, I did terribly with the tactile nature of social interaction in Spain and among Hispanics. I didn’t want to kiss strangers or even family members on both cheeks, I didn’t like having my cheeks squeezed by old women, and I didn’t like people touching, grabbing, or shaking me. But I was unfortunately forced to do it for my own survival. I don’t know if the sentiments around disabilities have changed in Spain, but the way I remember it in the part I grew up in was that they weren’t talked about. I didn’t even know what disabilities were until I came to the UK.
In England, pretty much every aspect of my behaviour was reprimanded; my loudness, my ‘aggression’, my opinionated disposition, my lack of a filter, my inability to understand my classmates’ feelings… The list goes on and on. At a certain point, I learned to just hold in a lot of my personality until I got home. What I didn’t realise that I was actually holding in some instinctive behaviours in privacy as well, I would flinch and stop if I noticed myself stimming, my face would go red when I couldn’t verbalise properly, and I often found myself practicing facial expressions in the bathroom mirror because I was self-conscious that I wasn’t doing them ‘correctly’. I started my own personal journey so to speak about a year ago to completely unmask, alone. I still cringe when I catch my arms pulling up into ‘t-rex’ form or if I start verbally/physically stimming, but I’m slowly becoming less ashamed of myself.
Consequently, unmasking in front of someone else has been incredibly nerve-wracking. The ‘issue’ (I say issue but it’s quite the opposite) is that I’m so comfortable in my partner’s home that I unmask without even realising it. Something I’ve noticed however, is that half the time they don’t. When my fingers twist and rub against each other, I glance up nervously to see if I’m being watched. No one has even glanced at me. I stammer and mess up my sentence, or my mouth fails halfway through, and yet even then no one laughs or looks at me strangely, they just wait for me to rectify or finish the sentence. I wonder if part of me still thinks I’m under the ultra-critical gaze of my secondary school peers, expecting to be torn to shreds verbally over my quirks as I always was, but it never happens. I have to constantly remind myself that I am well liked here, and my quirks are something people are fond of now.
Overall, love as an autistic person is intense and difficult, but an experience that is so all-consuming it feels almost like you’re on some kind of drug. I’m a very logical, science-based person, but love is one of the few things that still feels remotely magical to me. It can draw me out of my cold, black and white world and into an illogical whirlpool of emotion. I rarely act on emotion alone, but love is something that certainly has the power to make me do so. It embarrasses me a lot, it makes me feel out my depth, it makes me behave in ways I normally wouldn’t, but I’ll endure those feelings any day for the reward. I still have a long way to go before I can properly express myself to a partner, but one day I’d really like to be able to show them all my projects inspired by them, and the true level of sappiness I’m capable of (lol).
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purplesurveys · 3 years
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1195
survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct
—:: Who ::—
... was the last person you saw face to face? I passed by my brother last night when I had to go to the kitchen to fill up my tumbler.
... was the last person you texted or messaged online? Angela; I was just asking her for the difference among A4/A5/A6 since I’m now planning to buy a binder and sleeves for my rapidly increasing collection of photocards and postcards. It really frustrates me that A4 is the biggest one and A6 the smallest :((((
... was the last person who asked you for a favour? Kata, my manager. She filed a half-day leave last Friday to get herself and her family vaccinated in her town, so she had sent me over a very long to-do list of deliverables that she asked me to fulfill while she was out. Eventually she ended up filing a whole-day leave since she felt feverish after being under the sun all day, and also possibly from side effects of the vaccine, so I ended up carrying the entire workload for the day. I like Kata and she’s a very easy person and superior to work with, so I honestly couldn’t complain about it.
... was the last person you lent something to? Ooh, I don’t remember. I don’t really lend people things.
... was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Andi was just sharing to me their worries about taking the LAE (scheduled for today) and how they’ll be okay if they don’t pass.
... is the tallest person you know? Jo is like 5′7″ and we all look like beans when standing next to her. One of my uncles is also very tall; around 5′10″ or 5′11″ if I’m not mistaken.
... the shortest person you know? I think Aya? That’s just a smart guess, though; I haven’t seen most of my friends in more than a year.
... your oldest (in years) friend? Mik is turning 28 this year. Sometimes I forget just how much older he is than me since we vibe really well together during the rare times we did get to hang out. I’m still bummed we never got that smoke break we wanted to have.
... is the oldest (in length of time) friend? Angela.
... is your youngest friend? Hannah was born in 2000. Peter was born in 2001 but we aren’t that close yet.
... is your newest friend? I haven’t made any new friends recently. Stan Twitter is lonelier than I thought it would be; everyone is already friends with everyone so it’s hard to break that space. Not to mention everyone is also grossly younger than I am – I keep seeing profiles with ‘2004′ on their bio :/ I should start making an effort to look for older ARMYs lol, I definitely feel like I’d have more fun that way.
... is your closest relative? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side, my Kuya.
... was your favourite teacher? My music teacher from high school. I neeeeeever liked music as a subject and it was never a priority of mine, but she always kept our classes something for me to look forward with her advice and the way she was always able to make lessons interesting.
... was your least favourite teacher? Those who made it clear they didn’t like me, even though I didn’t do anything to deserve such hostility.
... did you spend the most time with when growing up? My siblings and cousins since we all lived together at one point.
... knows you the best? My two best friends.
... always beats you in games or sports? Andi would probably be able to beat me in any game. They just let me win because they know I can be a sore loser.
... who is the most creative of the people you know? My family is pretty artistic and I have a lot of talented relatives - my sister and my cousin Maggie paint and draw; my mom can make any kind of craft she wants, with her hnds; and one of my grand-aunts regularly does paintings. I think all of them are amazingly creative in their own way.
... is the funniest person you know? Probably Andi. Hans makes me crack up too.
... is the most organised that you know? My mom.
... that you know has travelled the most? My dad. Both our fridge doors are filled from top to bottom with magnets from places he’s travelled in due to his line of work. He’s toned down quite a bit in the last few years and has taken to staying within Asia, but back then his traveling history was super expansive – Germany, Jamaica, Italy, Belize, Aruba, Italy, France, Monaco, Denmark, Norway, the UK, US, Estonia, Portugal, etc.
... has always been there for you? Angela never left my side.
... has given you the most personal gift? I can’t possibly pick, my friends are pretty good at giving me gifts...like Andi getting me a Petals For Armor CD and a Punk shirt that hasn’t been produced in a while, and Angela giving me a personalized Friends mug because she knows I like my coffee and she knows I like Friends.
... has an annoying laugh? I don’t think anyone I know has an annoying laugh.
... never forgets a birthday? That would be me.
... do you live with? My parents, my two siblings, and our two dogs.
...,do you have the most in common with? I’m not so sure about this one, actually. I share bits of my personality with a lot of people - like me and Jo liking BTS, me and Andi liking wrestling, Blanch and I having similar personalities, me and Laurice being super meticulous when it comes to our work, etc. - but I haven’t met anyone who’s virtually a duplicate of mine when it comes to my traits and interests.
...is the sportiest person you know? I’m also not sure. Most people I know are into watching a bunch of sports, but none of them actually play.
...was your last missed call? It was an unknown number that I kept ignoring because THEY WOULDN’T TEXT WHO THEY WERE. If you have enough load credits to call me multiple times, then surely you can text me and introduce yourself first, and maybe then I can pick up the phone.
...did you last open your door for? My sister knocked last Friday because someone wanted to talk to me via landline. It was weird since no one calls via the phone anymore, but I have a gut feeling it was that ^ same person who had been trying to call me through my phone but never texted me. Eventually I learned it was one of the bloggers I’m talking to for work who just wanted to ask a few questions about our ongoing engagement.
... has your heart? Kim Taehyung. Expect the same answer for this type of question moving forward.
... has your respect? I gotta hand it to Tina for consistently doing well in her studies and excelling in every subject while doing photo and video editing for two orgs, working on her thesis, and being a board member in our mutual org, all while living alone. She does so well I wish I can tell her to give herself the occasional break to avoid burnout.
...do you share a special song with? I don’t think I have that with anyone.
...do you miss right now? Literally allllllll my friends.
...last made you angry? It’s been a while since I’ve directed my anger towards another person. When I get pissed off these days it’s usually over a situation that goes awry or out of my control.
...did you last buy a gift for? So this was not technically meant to be a gift, but what happened was I accidentally secured two orders of the same poster set, which was a part of this new BTS photobook coming out later this month, from two different shops. One of the shops merely posted an ‘interest check’ for the poster set so I signed up for it thinking it was harmless, but when they got back to me they already attached an invoice :/ I ended up having to pay for it just so things won’t get complicated between myself and the shop anymore; and I told Angela she can just keep the extra set I bought and that she can consider it a gift.
...did you celebrate your last birthday with? My family and technically my workmates since I didn’t file a leave that day. I also had food delivered to their house so I guess that can count as my ‘celebration’ with them.
...have you gone to a concert with? I went with Angela for my first Paramore show.
...can make you laugh? Anyone can tbh. It’s not very hard to make me laugh.
...has taught you how to do something? Nina taught me how to embroider and do basic needle/thread skills back when I was still getting into the hobby.
...has lost something of yours? I am almost certain my ex never kept the handwritten letters I used to write her. She never seemed to remember or bring up the things I wrote.
...has broke your heart? Gabie but I’m over it.
...has stood you up? Hasn’t happened to me before.
:: What ::
Is your favourite colour? Pastel pink.
Can you do that most your friends can’t? Type fast, apparently.
Is your birthday? April 21.
Colour eyes do you have? Dark brown/black.
Form of transport do you take to work/school? I work from home. But under normal circumstances I would drive my car.
Music do you like to listen to in the car? I connect my Spotify to the car’s Bluetooth and listen to whatever artist or playlist I’m into at the moment. The music I put on could also depend on my current mood for the day.
Languages can you speak? Filipino and English. I’ve also been able to pick up looooots of Korean phrases and expressions because of the amount of content I watch. I’m nowhere near fluent, of course, but I’m increasingly able to pick up what people say based off a few Korean words I’ll hear in a sentence.
Was the last thing you drank? Continued from idk. I finished off my glass of water from dinner.
Was the last thing you ate? My mom made pasta.
Time did you wake up this morning? Depends on how late I slept the night before and how tired I was, but it usually ranges between 5:45–7:30 AM.
Colour are your bedroom walls? They’re white.
Drink do you usually order when eating out? I never order drinks unless I’m at La Creperie, in which case I always get their San Gines hot chocolate; for everywhere else that isn’t a bar, I just get water.
Food can you cook well? ...I can’t cook.
Animals have you had for a pet? Dogs, rabbit, lovebirds, goldfish, and technically a cat but she was mostly Nina’s.
Are your initials? RC.
Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I’m still kind of stuck at home during the weekends :/ so I can’t do much, but I’m not complaining since I actually prefer staying in these days. Anyway, most recently I’ve taken to catching up on BTS content I’ve missed over the last 8 years, so I like watching shows they’ve done like Bon Voyage, Run BTS, etc.
Movie do you know line by line? Two for the Road, TITANIC, and probably most of White Chicks.
Band(s) have you seen in concert? Paramore, One Direction, a bunch of local bands.
Do you buy/get to treat yourself? It’s usually food - I like giving myself a feast every Friday night - but I’m putting that in the backseat for now as I’ve realigned my money to be spent on BTS merch. My big purchases are saved for the albums for now, but every now and then I’ll see a postcard or photocard I like and buy them. Once I complete the albums I’ll be moving on to the concert DVDs, then the special packages, then probably BT21 plushies. Needless to say I have a longggggg way to go haha.
Colours your phone cover? I have a clear case.
Part of the world would you love to visit? Another continent would be nice.
Question do you dislike being asked? Even though I know people mean well, I don’t like being asked “How are you?” but tbh it’s more of a me thing because I just never really know what to say.
Subject were you good at in school? History.
Careers do your parents have? They both work in the hospitality industry.
Brand of clothing do you buy most often? For clothes clothes I’m not really loyal to a particular brand; I buy from different brands and shops all the time. But for shoes, I like sticking to Nikes.
Chocolate bar is your favourite? Not a big fan of chocolate bars. I love Reese’s Cups, though.
TV show have you watched every series of? Friends, Perfect Strangers, Breaking Bad.
Radio station do you listen to the most? It’s a little hard to tell at this point considering I haven’t driven regularly in over a year. But back when I used to do it, I usually flipped among 93.1, 99.5, and 87.5.
Podcasts are you subscribed to? I’m not the biggest fan of podcasts. Find them a tad bit boring.
Is your favourite dessert? Macarons or cheesecake.
Can’t you do that most around you seem to? Ride a bike.
Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Loyalty, thoughtfulness, honest, sensitive to my needs and those of others, and intelligent.
Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? ^ Pretty much the same thing.
Size pizza do you usually order? Family size usually.
Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I’ve been getting Japanese so many times recently. I rarely go outside sushi.
Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black and white, and colors that were in at one point like mustard yellow and pastel pink.
Toothpaste brand do you use? Colgate.
Sounds can you hear right now? My insanely loud aircon.
Is the weather like today? Like hell. I believe we’re reaching a heat index of over 50ºC every day now, so...that’s fun. It gets absolutely difficult to work in the afternoon when the temperature is at its most brutal, and its times like this I wish I got to work in the office so that there’s aircon and I could at least work comfortably :/
Are your plans for tomorrow? Just work and have tons of meetings, the usual.
:: Where ::
Do you keep your phone when not using it? I keep my phone near me even when I’m not using it since I could always get an important notification.
Were you born? Manila.
Do you go to unwind? Most days it would be the rooftop, but under normal circumstances I like staying at a coffee shop somewhere to escape life and my responsibilities for a short while.
Is your best friend right now? I believe they’re both at home since they have no reason to be out anyway.
Can you go nearby to have a good time? Personally, I would just go to the Starbucks near our village lol. If I’m feeling a bit more adventurous I’d head to Katip, which is prrrretty close by but not quite.
Is the nearest restaurant? We have a McDonald’s literally right beside the village. Then besides that is a Shakey’s, and right across that is a Burger King, then the aforementioned neaby Starbucks. Just makes me realize how urbanized my town has gotten in the last few years.
Is the nearest beach? If I had to guess, the nearest beaches would be in Batangas which is 2-3 hours away, but it really depends on how fast you can drive lol. I’m not too good with long car rides so in both times I’ve driven there I had always taken 4 hours.
Did you meet your closest friend? I met Angela in grade school, and I met Andi at a local rally in my university.
Did you go for your last vacation? Tagaytay, though it was a staycation more than anything else.
Is the nearest mall or superstore? It’s like a 3-minute drive away from the village.
Did you last get an injury? I have loadsssssss of new scratches and gashes all around my wrists from playing with Cooper.
Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? It’s a toss-up between Aids’ or Gian’s house. Gian would probably win since I never actually got to go inside Aids’ place, and his was the first house I’ve been to that was able to literally take my breath away. OH and Shaun’s house was pretty fucking swanky as well.
Do most the local kids play? I would have no idea since I’m neither a kid nor a parent.
Have you been with your family? This is a very vague question lol...what do you mean where have we been? We’ve been to different towns around the country and several countries together, if that’s what you’ve been asking.
Did you spend Christmas last year? We visited a couple of relatives, and we also spent it at home.
Did your parents grow up? My mom grew up within Metro Manila; my dad in a city a little outside of it.
Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I’m barefoot at the moment and always am at home.
Would you like to go right now if you could? If life had still been normal I would probably be having after-work drinks at a bar near the office.
Do you miss the most from your childhood? I’m not sure how to answer this with where.
Is the best restaurant you know? I’m still searching for it.
Will you never go again as it was so bad? It’s not that it was bad, but I’d probably never dine at 8Cuts again because their burgers are not worth the hype and are very overpriced for their size.
:: When ::
...was your last vacation? My family’s last legit vacation was in August 2019; but we did have a quick escape to Tagaytay in January of this year.
...did you graduate? I officially ‘graduated’ from college in August, if you could even call it that.
...did you decide what career you wanted? Somewhere between my 2nd and 3rd year of college. That was when I decided I hated journalism and preferred PR, but since PR is under journalism’s umbrella there was no need for me to shift courses.
...did you have your first kiss? Continued. Like WHEN when or how old was I when? In any case, it was in January 2015 and I ws 16.
...did you learn how to swim? Idk, pretty early on. My parents liked taking us to water parks when we were younger, so we had a lot of exposure. I’m not sure if there was ever a time where something just clicked and I learned how to swim; I believe it had just come naturally.
...did you have your first relationship? By the end of 2014.
...did you meet your best friend? I met both of them in school, but at different points.
...do you feel the most at peace? Probably when I’m able to stay at the rooftop all alone.
...do you usually fall asleep? I’ve readjusted my body clock now (I used to want to be in bed by 9 or 10 PM, lmao) and I stay up until anywhere between 12-2 AM on weekdays.
...do you usually wake up? Ranges between 6-7:30 AM.
...did you last watch a movie? September.
...did you last go to a party? Around Februaryish, 2020.
...did you last cry? I can’t really recall. The last moment I can remember was crying over Life Goes On sometime last month, when I heard it for the first time. I’m just not sure if that’s accurate or when exactly in April that happened.
...did you laugh really hard? I always have a good laugh at least once a day.
...did you buy something pricey last? Idk what you would count as pricey but I bought the new BTS photobook set when it dropped back in April. Cost me around ₱3750. I wasn’t able to buy from the first press (it sold out in like 7 minutes lol) which included an exclusive poster set, so I had to look for a local shop that was already offering the poster set separately, and ended up shelling out another ₱2200 for it...which means all in all I spent around ₱5950 for it or roughly $125.
...did you have an argument last? Earlier this evening but I don’t want to get into it as it made me cry from sadness and frustration for the first time in months.
...did you last have a sick day? May last year.
...did you last recieve a hug? I have no idea. February, I think? when I hung out with my friends.
...when is your best friend’s birthday? July 22 or September 15, depends on which best friend.
...did you learn how to drive? I started getting lessons when I was 17, but I didn’t start feeling comfortable with it until I turned 18.
...did you last receive a surprise? Around a couple of weeks ago when my dad came home with Jollibee for us.
:: How ::
Many pets do you have? Two.
Many houses have you lived in? Three that I can remember, but I know my parents moved around a bit when I was a newborn.
Often do you shower? Every morning before my shift. I hate feeling sweaty and icky when I report for work.
Well can you cook? I can’t at all.
Many close friends do you have? I have two people I count as my absolute best friends, but I have a handful of close friends as well.
Many Brothers or sisters do you have? One of each.
Often do you go swimming? I don’t swim much at all, really...I haven’t done it since 2019, so that should say enough. As relaxing as it is, I feel like the clean-up afterwards can be such a challenge lol. Like if you swim in a pool you have to rigorously wash the chlorine off of you; and if you swim in the sea you have to also be thorough about making sure you’ve removed all the sand from your body.
Many times have you texted today? I don’t think I texted today but I did spend my whole day on chat platforms.
Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? I don’t have super particular preferences; I just like mine on the burnt side.
Do you like your tea and/or coffee? My coffee has to be sweet for me to enjoy it. I can take black coffee/Americano; I’ll just wince a lot with every sip. No tea for me thanks.
Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? With a lot of food.
Are you feeling today? A little frustrated because of an argument incident this evening. But I’m shaking it off and just focusing on the release of Butter tomorrow. My first BTS comeback!!!
Serious are you about your career goals? Very.
Many rooms are in your house? In total, 9.
Many bedrooms in your house? 4.
Did you do in your school exams? I was never consistent. I slacked off a looooooot in grade school; couldn’t give less of a shit about my classes then. I got a bit more hardworking in high school, but I still was a bit lax and I allowed myself to not put a lot of effort in subjects I didn’t care a lot for and that I know I would never have to use in real life, like chemistry or accounting, so there were exams I really excelled in and others that I would fail. It was only in college I started taking my studies incredibly seriously and I believe that showed in the grades I eventually got.
Close do you live to your parents? They’re like, five steps away.
Close do you live to your siblings? My sister’s literally in the room next to mine.
Sensitive to criticism are you? I know it’s something that can never be avoided, so I’m always open to hearing them, especially if it’s meant to help me. It doesn’t mean I enjoy it as it is being given.
Motivated to make changes are you? Depends on my mood and mindset. 
Creative are you (1-10): -0.5.
Hard working are you (1-10): Probably a 22 if I really put my head into a task.
Sporty are you (1-10): I dunno, maybe a 6? I do like playing table tennis, but I’m pretty meh at any other sport.
Musical are you (1-10): 0.
Do you prefer your eggs? Runny yolk; scrambled; or a really packed omelette.
Often do you go out to eat? Before the pandemic, I liked eating out 2-3 times a week.
Would your best friend describe you? Not sure, I never tried asking them this. I hope it’s all nice things, though.
Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? Send me photos of V. Hahahaha
Often do you meet up with your friends? ...What do you think? D:
Important is religion to you? It is not a part of my life whatsoever.
Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? 15 or 16, I can’t really remember.
Old were you when you got your first pet? I was maybe 6.
Tech savvy are you? I know enough to survive my own, but I obviously can’t hack into other computers or things like that.
Do you show you appreciate those you care for? Buying them food.
Often do you cut your hair? I only take a trip to the salon once a year.
Often do you paint your nails? Never.
Many countries have you visited? Six.
Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Just one.
:: Why ::
... did you choose your username? Because it was straightforward.
... did you take this survey? I like surveys made in categories, and this seemed interesting and varied enough.
... did you choose the career you did? I found that I enjoyed it MILES more than journalism.
...did you last leave the house? I had to go to a local LBC for a work errand.
...did you last give up on something? She wasn’t worth the effort anymore. She hadn’t been for a while, but it took me forever to realize.
...did you search the last thing you searched? I wanted to sing along to the song but it was in Japanese, so I had to look up its lyrics.
...would you give up on someone completely? Oof, I guess you can refer to one of the previous questions. ^
:: If...::
You could live in any country which would you choose? Canada.
You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I’m perfectly content with dogs.
You could be famous for something what would you like? Being known for a funny tweet would probably be enough lol. I have no desire to be famous.
You are sad, how do you combat it? I don’t really get sad anymore these days, so I can’t super remember the go-to tactics I depend on...I guess I like listening to sad songs and allowing myself to wallow in the sadness, because I know I have to accept and process my feelings first before I can be able to calm down.  
You can drive when did you learn? I learned shortly before I started college, when I was 18, because no one was going to be able to take me to university when the school year started.
You could have any job what would it be? Idk, I like the one I have now.
You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere with a completely different feel and atmosphere, like Norway, Sweden, Finland...that part of Europe, basically.
You could eat anything right now what would it be? Samgak gimbap :/
You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? It would be a book of essays or maybe a memoir.
You had a theme song what would it be? Idk I don’t really think about this.
You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Billie Eilish seems awesome and easy and fun to talk to.
You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.
You get married what venue would you like? Hotel.
If you have kids do you have names picked out? I have one name picked out for a girl but that’s it.
Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Brutalist and minimalist, with large windows, cove lights, and a lot of white space.
You could go back in time what would you change? Break up with Gab earlier.
Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Could’ve been better.
Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? When I would die and how, just so I can have peace of mind.
You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money, because of course.
Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? My great-grandfather, mom’s side.
:: Can ::
... you ride a bike? No, never learned.
... you ski? I’ve never even seen snow, so no.
... you bake a cake? I can try but it will probably be very clumsily made as I don’t bake.
... you sing well? I wouldn’t say that. I like singing when I’m alone, but it doesn’t mean I’m any good.
... you do your own taxes? I’ve never tried haha so I guess not.
... you remain calm in a crisis? Depends on how serious it is.
... you do first aid? Let’s just say I wouldn’t volunteer if it comes down to it because I feel like I’d commit one fatal mistake that would make the situation graver. 
... remember your best friend’s family members’ names? Both of their families, yes.
... you fire a gun? I’ve never tried so I doubt it.
... your parents drive? Yep.
...your best friend dance well? They’re not ‘dancers’ per se but sure, they can bust out a move or two.
...you make people laugh easily? Not everyone, but sure.
...stand up for yourself? That’s what I’m trying to learn these days.
...you do a martial art? No.
:: Would ::
You like to learn a new language? That’s always a welcome opportunity.
Save the life of a stray animal? Absolutely.
Know what to do if there was a hurricane? We have several ones come in the country every year so yeah, I can definitely say we’ve long been well-prepared for them.
Try a new cuisine? I do this as often as I can.
Risk your life for anyone? Yes.
You like to get back in touch with someone? No, I’m good now.
You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? Ina heartbeat.
You Know how to perform CPR? In relation to the first aid question, I wouldn’t volunteer myself in case I make a wrong move.
You likely win in a game of chess? I don’t even know how it works, so no.
You stop talking for a day for $100? Easily.
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n8thegr8 · 4 years
Text
My Avengers Academy Chapter 1: An Old Fashioned Notion
Not everyone is created equal. There are people in this world that are born with privileges and advantages that put them ahead of everyone else. There are people that are born with nothing and must climb their way out of oppression. These lessons of privilege should be taught to children with care and respect. To help them understand. These lessons should not, however, be taught to children with violence.
Peter Parker learned this lesson at the age of five. He laid there motionless; eyes widened as he looked towards the sky. He had bruises on his arms and legs, dirt stained his cheeks, and his head was pounding with pain. All he could do now was crawl into a ball and cry his eyes out.
It was supposed to be a fun day for him; his kindergarten cancelled all classes due to a nearby villain attack which cut out all the power on that grid. A day off of school is supposed to be a fun time for children. It was supposed to be fun for Peter. It was, at least in the beginning.
He had a playdate with his best friend in the world, Eugene “Flash” Thompson. He was so excited when his aunt dropped him off at his house; he couldn’t wait to play hero. Their playdates consisted mostly of watching old footage of battles between heroes and villains, and any live fights happening on the news. Today, however, was different. 
“Hey, Pete, wanna ditch this, and go to the playground? I’m getting kinda bored,” Flash said.
“Um, yeah! Let’s go tell your mom and-“
“Nah,” Flash said, “Let’s just go, we’ll be back before she knows anything.” This was unusual for Peter. Going to the park without any adult supervision? His Aunt May and Uncle Ben always told him to never go anywhere without an adult that he trusts. But, he trusts Flash. He wouldn’t let Peter get hurt right? Besides, Flash has this really cool quirk, if any bad people try to kidnap him, he’ll protect him. 
Peter agreed, and off they went. Getting out of the house was easy since Flash’s mom was sleeping on the couch in the living room with some sort of bottle in her hand. This usually happened when Peter had a playdate at Flash’s home; his mom was asleep most of the time, letting them have free reign of the house. Whenever Peter asked why his mom sleeps so much, Flash would say, “She just works a lot, okay? Stop asking.”
The journey to the park, however, was difficult because they had to stay out of sight, so no adult would see them and call their parents, or aunt and uncle in Peter’s case. They ran from bush to bush, and jumped fences to get to their destination. Eventually, they came to the wall that separated the park from the playground. It loomed over the two kids, and it cast a great shadow over them. To Peter, it was the highest wall he’d ever seen. 
Peter heard Flash chuckle. “This wall ain’t nothing to me.” Flash’s arms became covered in this black goop. The goop seemingly crawled up his arms and eventually to his hands, turning his small hands into big claws. Flash looked at Peter. “Lemme show you how a man climbs a wall.”
Flash stepped back five steps and then dashed towards the wall, jumped, and stuck to the wall, digging his claws into the concrete. Peter watched in awe as Flash effortlessly climbed up. Once Flash got to the top of the wall, he peered down and looked at Peter, flashing him a toothy grin. 
“Well, come on!” he exclaimed.
Peter stared at the wall. Noticing it’s craggily state, how long has this wall been standing? Before he was born? Before Auntie and Uncle were born? Before quirks?
“What are ya waiting for?!” yelled Flash, “Just climb the stupid thing!”
Jolted out of his thoughtful daze, Peter looked for his path to climb up the wall. 
“Come on, Peter!”
The more Flash shouted the more nervous he got. Finally, he found his path. Peter took five steps back and then sprinted towards the wall until-
“I AM IRON MAN AND IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO WAKE UP! I AM IRON MAN AND IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO WAKE UP!”
This phrase loudly repeated throughout Peter Parker’s bedroom, bouncing off the walls, and making his ear drums perform a drum solo. He let out a loud scream of confusion as he was rudely awakened by the pre-recorded message. He jolted from laying down comfortably to sitting up uncomfortably. Holding his head in discomfort, Peter groaned. “I hate that dream…” The alarm clock blared on his bedside table. Peter sighed as he clicked it off. It was a special alarm clock, a special edition Iron Man alarm clock, with a small figurine of the hero acting as the “turn off” button. Peter sighed once again and he flopped back on his bed. He took a moment to look around his room. He didn’t know why. It’s been the same for as long as he remembered. Plastered along the walls were memorabilia of his favorite heroes: Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, the Hulk, etc. Figurines of said heroes stood atop his shelves. His walls were a deep shade of blue. His bedsheets were red, but his blanket was Avengers-themed. He was fifteen-years-old, but his room was one of a twelve-year-old. Peter didn’t mind; he really liked heroes. He absentmindedly reached over to his bedside table, and grabbed his phone. The bright screen blinded him for a small moment. His eyes readjusted themselves, and he looked at his messages.
Wanda Maximoff :P (6:30 AM): Get out of bed sleepyhead. May made pancakes.
Pietro Maximoff (6:35 AM): Is my sister at your house? She’s not answering my texts. 
Pietro Maximoff (6:36 AM): Never mind lol I took a quick run around town and saw her in your kitchen lol
She’s downstairs? Peter thought. It wasn’t unusual for Wanda to be over before school started, but sometimes Peter questioned if she ever ate breakfast at home. “Your Aunt’s cooking is just too good!” she’d say. He had his doubts, of course. She always said that Pietro was cranky in the morning, so maybe that’s why she spends her mornings here.
“Peter! Breakfast is almost ready!”
Peter groaned as he heard his Aunt’s voice calling for him. “I’ll be down in a second!” he shouted back. 
“A second has passed!” he heard a shout from downstairs followed by a hearty laugh.
Oh, Ben, he thought. His Uncle really was a joker.
~A~
“How long have you been mastering the art of dad jokes, Mr. Parker?” Wanda asked inquisitively, “Because you need a lot more work.” 
Mr. Parker lowered his newspaper, took off his reading glasses, and gave a thoughtful look. Mr. Parker was wearing what he always wore: an ugly red sweater with aged blue jeans. “It’s my look!” he’d always say whenever he was questioned about his choice of apparel. “Well let’s see… when Peter was born! His father hated whenever our dad joked with us, and I just knew that he wouldn’t do it for Peter. So I wasn’t going to let Peter live his life without the best form of humor.”
Wanda rolled her eyes. Highly subjective opinion he’s got there, she thought. She turned her gaze to Mrs. Parker who was just finishing cooking the last pancake. “Mrs. Parker, how do you live with this?”
“A strong will and wine, my dear,” she said, grabbing the plate of pancakes and bringing it to the table where Mr. Parker and Wanda sat, “A strong will and wine.” Mrs. Parker was also wearing what she normally wore. Underneath her cooking apron, was her usual yellow shirt and blue jeans. Unlike her husband, she knew fashion, which Wanda appreciated. 
“Oh please,” Mr. Parker said, “You love it; you know you do.”
Mrs. Parker chuckled as she put down the plate on the table. “No dear, I love you, not your jokes.”
Wanda let out a small laugh. “See, she’s the funny one here.”
“No one here appreciates my stellar comedy,” lamented Mr. Parker. 
“I do,” a fourth voice said. Wanda turned her head towards the stairs that led to the upper floor, only to see her best friend: Peter Parker. Peter looked like he crawled himself out of a grave. His eyes were droopy, heavy bags surrounding them. His skin was paler than normal and his hair was also more ruffled than normal as well.
“Ah, my hero,” joked Mr. Parker, “Jeez, son, you look like a zombie.”
“I always appreciate your jokes, Ben.” Even his voice was coarse. 
Wanda eyed her best friend and gave a cocky grin. “Did you even shower? I can smell you from here.” 
Wanda saw Peter roll his eyes at her. “Well, good morning to you too,” he said.
~A~
The ensuing breakfast was also per the usual for the Parker family. A lot of banter between Uncle Ben and Aunt May, but even more between Wanda and Peter. “Don’t pass out from being a geek when you meet Dr. Banner today.”
“And don’t try to pass out from boredom when he starts talking about the dangers of gamma radiation,” he retorted. However, Peter couldn’t deny his excitement. For the first field trip of the school year, his high school, Midtown High, was going to Avengers Tower to meet the heroes and watch a lecture from the Incredible Hulk himself, Bruce Banner, the fourth most popular hero in America. Eventually, the pair finished their breakfast. 
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Parker! The food was great as always,” Wanda said. She always said this after having a delicious course of Aunt May’s cooking, which at this point was every other day or so.
“Oh you’re always welcome here, dear,” said Aunt May, “Now go, you two are going to miss the train.”
The two said their goodbyes to the married couple and off they went out the front door and onto the sidewalk, where an impatient Pietro waited.
“Took you two long enough,” he said while tapping his foot incessantly. “Mom and dad missed you at breakfast, dear sister,” he said in a mocking tone.
“Well get back to me when dad can actually cook something worth a damn, dear brother,” she fired back.
Pietro shook his head in disappointment, his silver hair flowing side to side as he did. “Hey Pete, ready for the field trip?” he asked excitedly, a complete change in his composure. 
“Dude, you know it!” Peter exclaimed, high fiving Pietro. 
Wanda groaned. “I’m surrounded by geeks.”
The walk to the train station was yet again, per the usual for the life of Peter Parker. Talking to Pietro about the villain fight that was on the news the night before while Wanda playfully mocks them.
“So the paper is due Friday right?” Wanda asked.
“Yep,” responded Peter. 
“But does that mean 12:00 that morning or at 11:59 that night?” replied Pietro. 
“No, it’s du-“
 sudden explosion was heard. The trio stopped in their tracks and looked to where they heard the explosion. They see smoke in the direction they were looking. 
“That’s the station…” Peter said. 
“That explosion…” Pietro said. 
Peter turned to Pietro. “Which means…”
Wanda eyes widened in horror. “Oh God, please no.”
Peter and Pietro's eyes lit up. “Villain attack!” they both exclaimed. Then the two ran off in the direction of the station. 
“Hey, wait up you two!” Wanda exclaimed, running after the pair. 
When Peter, Pietro, and Wanda got to the station it was a sight to behold. On top of the tracks was a villain they’d never seen before. He was gigantic in size and was entirely made out of sand. He stood on the overpass and roared out, daring any hero to attack.
“A new villain?” Peter asked with extreme curiosity. 
“Yeah looks like it,” Pietro responded with eagerness, “He looks so cool!”
The villain reeled back his fist and punched a chunk out of a building. The crowd that was surrounding the scene screamed as debris threatened to crush them. That is until a blue and red blur flew in and destroyed all of the debris that dare harm the populace. It was the Avenger Captain Marvel, one of the strongest members of the team. 
“Oh Cap’s here? This’ll be done in no time,” mused Pietro. 
Peter swooned. “She’s so cool.”
Wanda huffed and crossed her arms, a small blush cascaded her cheeks. “She’s okay.”
The villain’s voice echoed and roared. “Get outta here pipsqueak, before I slaughter ya!”
Captain Marvel floated above the crowd, glowing with a golden light, her hair defying gravity as it floated upwards. Her very presence exerted the power she possessed. She looked back to the crowd. “Multiple Man, form a barrier!” she ordered.
“Alright people, don’t move past the clones y’hear?” multiple voices echoed.
The trio looked and saw the rescue hero Multiple Man! A new up and coming hero who could create a seemingly infinite amount of clones of himself. A sea of clones barred entrance to the battle. “They’re exact copies of him,” Peter whispered. “I gotta...” He reached into his book bag and took out a notebook and a cheap digital camera.
“And there he goes,” Wanda sighed.
He took his camera, aimed at one of the clones, and snapped a quick picture. Then, he opened his notebook. It had the number twelve written in sharpie pen on the cover. Peter opened it and flicked through the pages and pages of hero analysis until he found Multiple Man’s entry and feverishly wrote in his new finding.
“Oh, it warms my heart to see such an enthusiastic youth!” A laugh rang in Peter’s ears. He looked to his right and saw an older looking gentleman. Balding, but still has his white hair, a bushy mustache, and a cool pair of black sunglasses. 
A blush danced onto Peter’s face. “Ah, well it’s just a hobby of mine.”
The elderly gentleman chuckled. “Oh don’t try to fool me, young man! I know exactly what you are! A fanboy!”
Peter’s face was bright red from embarrassment. “I, well I-“
“Hey there’s nothing wrong with being a fanboy!” Pietro exclaimed, standing up for his friend.
The gentleman continue to chuckle. “Not at all, young man! Why when I was your ag-“
The villain roared once again. “Don’t you come near me!”
Captain Marvel flexed out her arm and pointed at the villain. “Flint Marko, you are under arrest for illegal quirk usage and destruction of property! Anything you say can and will be us- gah!” The heroine was suddenly cut off by a gigantic fist made out of sand punching her into a nearby building. 
“I ain’t going to jail!” the sand villain yelled as he reeled back his other giant fist, “And I’ll be sendin’ ya straight to hell!” The sand giant flung his fist into the building where Captain Marvel crashed into, but the attack was blocked by an invisible force field! Peter looked to the top of the building to his left, and standing there was the Invisible Woman, one third of the Future Foundation!
“Ah! It’s Susan Storm!” Peter heard Wanda squeal in delight. “She’s gonna kick this sand dude’s ass!”
“Nah, my money’s still on Cap,” replied Pietro, “She can probably bench press the continent if she wants to.”
Wanda groaned. “Not every problem can be solved by brute strength, dear brother,” she said in a mocking tone, “You need finesse and to think outside the box! Right, Pete?” She stood with her hands on her hips in a stance of confidence. However she got no response from her friend. “Pete?” When Wanda turned to face him, all she saw was him feverishly writing in his notebook. Deaf to the world around him.
“So Invisible Woman actually doesn’t disappear she just bends the light around her to make the illusion that she’s invisible so does that mean that she can’t see when she’s invisible or maybe the light is still hitting her eyes anyway so maybe she sees but you also have to consider…” Peter rambled on and on.
A moment of awkward silence fell upon Wanda, Pietro, and the gentleman as Peter muttered away. “Oh Pete.” Wanda sighed.
“Does your friend usually do this?” the gentleman asked.
Pietro scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s hard for him to stop when he gets going.” Another crash was heard and the attention of the group was once again focused on the ensuing fight. 
“You ready, Sue?!” yelled Captain Marvel as she flew upwards towards the sky.
“The barrier’s up, Carol; turn this villain into glass!” yelled the Invisible Woman back as she flexed her arms out.
The sand villain tried to reach for the flying superhero but found himself unable to move past the invisible barrier that blocked his path. “Wh-what the hell is this?!” he screamed in terror. 
“This is the end of your villainy, Marko!” exclaimed Captain Marvel. 
The crowd went wild, this was the public’s favorite part in villain fights: when the hero triumphs over the villain and saves the day. “Come on, ma’am! Show us a flashy finish!” the older gentleman exclaimed.
“I told you so,” Pietro said as he bumped Wanda’s arm with his elbow.
Wanda shot a dirty look at her brother. “Oh, shut up,” she said. She put her hand on Peter’s shoulder who was still writing in his notebook. “Peter, it’s about to finish. You’re gonna wanna see this.”
Peter’s consciousness came reeling back into reality as he saw Captain Marvel floating in the sky. Her golden aura intensified as her hair stood straight up. Peter internally squealed as he knew what was coming, he quickly aimed his camera at the hero. It was Captain Marvel’s signature move! The golden aura stopped being an aura and started to be the color of Captain Marvel’s skin as her body stored energy. Her quirk: Binary Engine, allows her to store energy inside of her and release it at her will. She yelled out a battle cry and flexed her arms forward. “Binary Ignition!” A beam of golden energy erupted from her fists. If one were to ask the crowd what occurred that day, they would say that they felt the Earth shake beneath them as they saw the furious fiery energy hurdle itself towards the giant sand villain. With a loud scream of pain, the sand villain took the blast in his giant sandy chest. The extreme heat from the energy started to solidify the sand that it hit.
“No!” the villain roared, “I-I can’t move!” With the invisible barrier now closed fully around the villain, the extreme heat from the binary blast went to work. The heat was trapped and had nowhere to go, just like the villain. The villain was quickly calcified in glass, unable to move. A statue to the victory of heroes, the sand villain was. 
The crowd erupted in cheers and chants as Captain Marvel slowly descended back to the ground and the Invisible Woman followed suit. The heroes gave the all clear for the police to restrain the villain, a tall order given his size but the police always came prepared. 
Peter, on the other hand, was feverishly writing in his notebook about the intricacies of what he saw of Captain Marvel’s signature move. How much heat it truly produced being the main point of intrigue for him. “So for sand to turn into glass the sand has to be exposed to a temperature of 3,090 degrees Fahrenheit or 1,700 degrees Celsius which means that Captain Marvel’s energy output is far greater than what I initially calculated for her maybe…”
“He really likes to write doesn’t he?” the gentleman asked. 
Wanda sighed with a tinge of embarrassment. “Yeah, he really does,” she said. She then put on a big enthusiastic smile. “But, he’s going to be the best hero of all time. I just know it.”
“Wow, thanks, sis,” said Pietro.
The old man let out a light chuckle as he saw the two siblings bicker and Peter mutter and write in his notebook.
“... and you also have to consider the possibility that with enough stored power she can become a walking sun and that would be devastating for villains but maybe she can also solve any future energy crisis that the world will face and-“
“Hey, kid.” Peter felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the old man standing next to him. “You don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t be a hero, alright? If somebody doesn’t believe in you, prove them wrong. Think of heroism as the classic mask and spandex costumes, it doesn’t matter who’s behind the mask. Anybody can be a hero.”
Peter felt the warmth and kindness of the old man’s words. He flashed him a goofy grin. “Thank you, sir! I promise to become the world’s greatest hero.”
The old man returned with a big smile. “Excelsior, young man! Now go out there, and become the best hero that you can be!”
The trio thanked the gentleman for his time and walked up to the train platform as the police gave the all clear to enter the station. They got on their train and sat down. Peter glanced out the window and a small smile formed on his face. Across the river he saw the apple of his eye. Adorned with a stylistic “A” on its face, stood Avengers Tower, HQ of the Mighty Avengers, the most popular hero agency in the world. While Avengers Tower was the HQ for the agency, it was also a school, Avengers Academy, where teenagers learn to become heroes. The school only taught from sophomore year to senior year of high school. Apparently because there wasn’t enough material for a full four years of hero education. “Hey, guys?” Peter called out to his friends.
Pietro and Wanda snapped out of their individual dazes from the painfully normal train ride and turned to their friend, his face plastered with an even bigger smile. “What’s up, man?” Pietro asked. 
“Let’s apply to Avengers Academy,” Peter said. “Let’s be Avengers.”
Wanda’s face grew a soft smile. “Peter, you always say that,” she pointed out, “We’ve been wanting to be Avengers since we were kids!’”
“I think he just forgets that we made that pact years ago,” said Pietro, laughing as he did. 
Peter turned to his left to face him. “No, I didn’t forget! I just want to make sure,” he said with a hint of anxiety in his voice. Peter’s face went from cheerful to solemn. This usually happened to him after being excited about heroes and his dream to be one. Almost as if somebody completely different swapped places with him. He would go from raving about heroes and claiming he was going to be an Avenger one day one second, and then the next second he would become eerily quiet. His eyes would darken with sadness. His whole demeanor would shift. He became reclusive and antisocial. In his head he thought to himself,
They’ll be the ones going to AA… not me. There aren’t any quirkless heroes in the first place, why would I be the exception? 
Wanda noticed the drastic change in him. “Hey, hey, hey look at me,” she urged him. Peter turned to look at Wanda, and felt her hand on his shoulder. Her gaze met his. “You are going to be the best hero ever, okay? It doesn’t matter, okay? You’re already my hero.” She pointed to the red bandanna wrapped around her head as she said this. As Peter glanced at the accessory, he noticed how it wrapped down her cheek, under her chin, and was tied at the top of her head in a nice bow. Peter knew what she meant. 
It’s been five years and she still remembers. To him, helping her up and tying his bandana around her head to keep her jaw in place was just the normal thing to do when someone trips and falls on their chin in Physical Education class. 
He shot her a small, but genuine smile and said, “Okay.” Wanda shot a big smile back at him. As she did this his stomach became infested with butterflies and his face felt like it was lit aflame. He swore that he heard Pietro behind him groan and mutter, “Jeez, get a room.”
After yet another painfully average walk, they finally made it to their destination: Midtown High. Midtown High was just another average year 9-12 public high school located in Forest Hills, New York. Moderate in size, but gigantic in population. The school had trouble with too many students and not enough teachers to teach them. Cramped classrooms didn’t look good in the paper and it needed to be fixed. So to combat overpopulation and to promote transferring to other schools, there is a field trip to Avengers Tower for the freshman. If you want to tell kids to get out of your school, might as well tell them to be superheroes.
Unfortunately for Peter, the trio had to part ways for the time being since they all had separate homeroom classes. Peter sat in his classroom, and his gaze wandered around, looking at the 4x4 room that confined him. 25 desks filled the room in a semi-orderly fashion, Peter sitting near the back, which was unusual for him considering how studious he was. The floor was stained with age, under the coat of yellow was once a beautiful marble floor. The blackboard could never be truly cleaned as there were always remnants of past classes leaving their chalk footprint. Peter sighed and took a glance at the clock at the front of the class, however, he couldn’t make out the time with his bare eyes. He sighed once again, reached into his bag, and took out a container. He opened them and groaned as he was reminded that his glasses were ugly. Bright red covered the frame and the circular lenses felt as if they were half the size of his head. He put on his glasses, and the world suddenly became much clearer. He glanced at the clock again and saw it say it was 8:00 AM, right on the dot.
He groaned and let gravity claim his head. It made a nice and loud “bump” as it hit the desk. Peter knew what was coming. He counted down from fifty. He always comes in at 8:01 AM. Throughout the years of being bullied, Peter picked up a thing or two about personal quirks. At exactly 8:01 AM, he walked through the classroom door. His black hair stood in a spiky fashion, he wore a black muscle shirt, and baggy dark blue jeans. He was laughing as he entered the classroom, as if someone had told him a hilarious joke. Peter quickly stood up a book on his desk and opened it, creating a makeshift barrier between himself and the rest of the world. He fumbled with his glasses as he tried so desperately to put them back into their case. He lowered his head, below the book barrier. He didn’t want him to ruin today. It was supposed to be a happy day. He was going to Avengers Tower, he was going to see his heroes! 
The world went silent and all Peter could hear was the sound of shoes hitting the floor, and it was getting closer. Peter silently whimpered. Why did he have to come after him today? Wasn’t he tired of this? Making his life hell? The footsteps stopped right next to him.
Oh no. 
Pain was all Peter felt as his hair was being pulled back, forcing him to sit up straight. He felt every single strand of hair being unsuccessfully pulled from his scalp. He reluctantly opened his eyes, he had to face him now. All Peter saw was the black-haired kid smiling at him with a devious toothy smile.
“What do you want today, Flash?” Peter groaned, “Can you please let go of my hair?” Peter struggled as he grabbed the hand that had a fist full of his hair.
Flash gave a hearty laugh. “Aww, is Puny Parker all alone today? Is the quirkless wannabe sad that he can’t have his friends save him?”
He hated when Flash said that. It just reminded Peter of his true nature, that he was just normal. He doesn’t have the X-gene, he doesn’t have a quirk, he isn’t a mutant, he’s just human. Peter focused all of his might into digging his nails into Flash’s hand to make him let go. Suddenly, as he did that, Peter felt a gooey and slippery substance cover Flash’s hand, Peter squeezed but Flash didn’t let go. He only laughed.
“Oh Parker, did you piss off Venom?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Oh, is that right?” Flash said to no one in particular. Peter continued to thrash in pain as Flash kept his vice grip on his scalp. He felt like his hair was going to be pulled out, and his brain right with it. “Parker,” Flash said, his voice deepened, “Did you try to hurt me?” At this point, his voice became deep and twisted, almost demonic, as if two people were speaking in unison. 
Peter grunted as he continued to struggle. “Yeah, so what? Let me go, damn it!” He glanced up at Flash and saw that his neck and a portion of his face were covered in black goop. Peter’s gaze then went to Flash’s mouth, he was baring his teeth, but they were all razor sharp. Oh God, Peter thought.
He saw this before. This black goop. Flash pulled Peter closer to his face. He could practically smell him failing to brush his teeth properly that morning. “That wasn’t very smart of you, Parker,” Flash said.
“Christ, Flash! Just leave me alone!” Peter exclaimed. Peter then curled his free hand into a fist and swung it at Flash. Momentum was stopped as Peter’s arm was caught, not by Flash’s arm, but a mouth, a mouth with sharp teeth. It wasn’t Flash’s mouth, but it was the black goop’s. It was a macabre sight to say the least. The mouth shot itself from Flash’s abdomen and latched on to Peter’s fist. Peter didn’t feel any pain, however, but he did feel the sharp teeth prick his wrist as it held it in place. 
“Oh, Venom. You always know how to make me proud,” Flash said with a small chuckle. “Oh, that’s right! I didn’t feed you today, did I?” Peter’s eyes widened in horror. Flash gave a sinister smile. “Go wild.”
Peter shut his eyes as the word went into slow motion. Was Flash serious?! Was he going to let Venom devour his hand?! He could get suspended! Expelled even! He’d be charged with assault and battery and be tried as an adult! This is what perplexed Peter about Flash, he had great grades, was the school’s star quarterback, but he always did reckless activities that could have the potential of ruining his life. Even from a young age he was like this. Peter felt the terrifying mouth start to close on his fist, it was slow as if it was taunting him. As if it was letting his host enjoy the scene play out in front of him. He snapped back in reality, his gaze darted across the room, looking for someone, anyone to help him. His heart sunk as he saw the cruel reality; others had arrived by that time and they were all in their own groups, their own cliques, and they were watching the events unfold. They all just intently stared at the scene. No one dared make a move. Would anyone stand up and intervene? Peter closed his eyes, and braced for the pain that was to come. 
It happened. Peter felt the teeth rip and tear into his skin. He tried letting out a scream but more black goop shot out of Flash’s chest and onto his mouth, which muffled Peter’s scream for help. The mouth kept slowly clamping down, it wasn’t long until it was going to hit Peter’s bone. Peter started to hyperventilate. His chest rose and fell. Rose and fell. Over and over again. As he saw what was happening to his hand his mind raced. Why him? Why today? Today was supposed to be a good day. Why? Why? Why? Peter felt the sharp teeth graze the top of his carpal bone. He closed his eyes and whimpered. 
“That’s enough!” A voice pierced the unsettling air like a bullet. 
Peter glanced towards where the voice was shouted from, and there he saw Wanda and Pietro. Pietro had his hand on Flash’s shoulder, grasping it with an iron grip, and Wanda stood near Peter, grabbing his arm and pulling it out of the jaws of the beast. Peter looked at her eyes, her pupils were glowing a bright red. She looked at the lacerations on his wrist with a deep and sad look. She took in a deep breath and put her free hand over the wounds, and then the magic started. Red energy started to flow out of her hand and into Peter’s wounds. When the red energy entered the wounds, Peter felt an extreme warmth run up his arm. It felt odd, but it wasn’t strange to him; he had felt this many times before. When Wanda first got her quirk five years ago, she’d been the person to heal Peter’s scars and bruises he sustained from his run-ins with Flash. The reason why Uncle Ben and Aunt May didn’t know how bad Peter really had it was thanks to Wanda’s quirk. He looked down in embarrassment, he could already tell that she was worried about him. The day had just started and Peter was already hurt.
“You got a death wish, Maximoff?” Flash growled.
“Leave him alone, Thompson,” Pietro demanded. Peter looked at the two feuding teens. To him, it was as if two forces of nature collided. Pietro, a benevolent mountain standing tall no matter the condition, and Flash, a ravaging tornado destroying everything in its path. Two titans facing off against each other, and it’s all because of a quirkless boy. 
Flash scoffed and all of the black goop retreated back into his body, out of sight. He looked directly into Peter’s eyes. “You’re lucky your body guards came to rescue you, wallcrawler,” he said. He then went and sat in his seat at the other side of the room.
“Alright kids,” Peter’s teacher, Mr. Harrington said, “As you all know, today is the field trip to Avengers Tower.” Mr. Harrington was always an odd fellow, even in this world of superpowers. He was a tall lanky man, with brown hair and a bushy beard and moustache. Just by looking at him you can tell that he was a nerd in his youth. He wore brown suits to class, always had a neat tie on, and wore black dress pants. On his desk one could find memorabilia of the wonderful world of science. Globes, a model of the solar system, a Newton’s cradle, a map of the periodic table, etc. Peter liked Mr. Harrington; the appreciated his love of science, and even though Mr. Harrington gave the aura of a man who has been punched in the face one-too-many times, Peter related hard.
“Just so you all know, two students from different classes have requested to join ours for today.” Peter then took a glance at Pietro and Wanda who were sitting to the left and right of him respectively. As Peter looked at her, Wanda proudly showed him a small doodle of Flash being punched in the face by the Hulk. Peter smiled at the rough sketch. No matter how bad he felt, she could always make him laugh.
Peter’s gaze trailed back to his notebook in front of him. This was Peter’s Quirk Analysis book. It was open. The name Wanda Maximoff was written in the title section with neat handwriting. A picture of her was clipped on by a paper clip. Peter smiled at the photo he had taken last summer when they visited the planetarium. Her pose was odd, but unique. She had her fingertips touch one another, her legs spread and bent, her torso bent forward, and a big toothy smile plastered on her face as if she was saying, “Come at me, ya scoundrels!” She stood in front of a model of the planet Saturn. A small grin created itself on Peter’s face; that was a fun time for him.
Beside her picture were the words, “Quirk: Hex,” and below that were notes. Peter read these notes every so often. They were notes on Wanda’s Quirk. He came up with the name himself after seeing it in action so many times. Hex was one mystery of a power as it just showed up one day. For years people thought that Wanda was quirkless, until one day when she saved Peter from being Flash’s punching bag for the day. The memory flew through Peter’s mind like a bird through the sky. He remembered being pinned up to a tree, gazing into Flash’s eyes, which were filled with murderous intent. The next thing he remembered was Flash being lifted in the air by a mysterious red glow, and then seeing Wanda glowing with that same redness. This didn’t stop the bullying for her, however. Before she was being bullied for being a foreign quirkless girl, now she was being bullied for being a foriegn freak who got her quirk late. 
Peter had spent hours studying Wanda’s quirk. There was one conclusion that he came about, Hex was a sort of probability manipulation, similar to Dr. Strange’s quirk: Mystic Arts. Her power could bend the fabric of probability in her favor. He theorized she can probably cause a gun to backfire just by looking at it, but he’d rather not test it. She can also shoot out red energy bolts as projectiles, they don’t hurt much, but it still was a force of concussive energy. Her quirk also allowed her to “heal” people, however, this was contested by Peter. The only thing she had done to heal him was close his wounds; he still felt sore and achy afterwards. Maybe since she doesn’t know the intricate details of the human body, she doesn’t know how to heal someone fully, or maybe she was just scared of screwing it up. In the end, Hex was an amazing quirk in Peter’s eyes. He couldn’t wait to see her become a hero one day.
He turned the page and came across Pietro’s entry. His picture was a one-in-a-million shot that Peter took at one of Pietro’s soccer games during Physical Education class. Pietro’s pose was simply art, his left leg outstretched after kicking the ball, his right arm crossing his body as his left arm is outstretched, keeping him balanced, and all the while a big goofy smile that screamed, “Yeah, I’m the best!” Peter remembered how much he and Wanda were cheering for him that day. In the end, Pietro’s team won and got bragging rights for a whole year. 
Like Wanda’s entry, next to Pietro’s picture was the name of his quirk: Superspeed. It was fairly self explanatory, Pietro’s quirk allowed him to move at superhuman levels. He could outrun any car, train, plane… Well, maybe not a plane, Peter thought to himself. However, his quirk also granted him enhanced metabolism. Pietro was always fit, any scrape or bruise would be gone within minutes, and he had to eat a lot to keep up. Pietro always wanted to be a hero, and his quirk locked in his future to be one of the greatest heroes of all time. 
Peter's smile turned into a frown as he turned to the next page. The name in the title box was Eugene “Flash” Thompson, and below that were the words “Quirk: Symbiote.” Flash’s quirk was the scariest of them all, it was a living organism that was bonded to Flash’s body. Its base form was a black goop that would cover Flash if it felt like it or Flash was being threatened. In reality, the symbiote was always on Flash. It was Flash, and Flash was it. It also gave itself a name: Venom. Venom can form any weapon from itself, be an impenetrable shield for Flash, and can enhance Flash’s strength fivefold. Flash and Venom were one and the same, they talked to each other, and they looked out for each other. Sometimes Peter would see Flash mumbling to himself, when in actuality he was having a conversation with Venom.
However, Flash wasn’t the only person in the world with a symbiote. Symbiotes were a quirk that arrived late to the scene as they’ve only been around for the past 80 years or so. Nobody knew where the symbiote quirk came from, and some even theorized they were a failed experiment caused by the Weapon program that was never properly disposed of. Unfortunately for people with symbiotes, there was a dangerous stereotype connected to them: cannibalism. It’s no secret that people with symbiotes need to have a larger intake of food since they’re effectively eating for two, so naturally rumors started to spread about people with the symbiote quirk. This stereotype was derived from one entity, a villain named Carnage. 
The only symbiote that was able to leave its host and live on its own was one of the most dangerous villains alive. Its original host was a serial killer called Cleetus Cassidy, a cannibal with over 30 confirmed murders, most of them women and children. Cassidy was as messed up as a human could get. He truly believed that human life was meaningless, and he was doing his victims a favor by murdering them. Cleetus Cassidy’s religion was murder and cannibalism, and the symbiote believed as well. Eventually, the symbiote grew tired of Cassidy, and murdered him. Police found the gruesome corpse of Cassidy strung about the apartment, but Carnage was nowhere in sight. It escaped and bonded with a new host; It would continue this cycle for the next 26 years.
“Hey, uh, Pete?”
A voice pulled Peter out of his day dreaming, he looked around the room to see all the desks empty and Wanda and Pietro at the doorway of the classroom. Peter’s face turned red in embarrassment. 
“Oh, sorry!” he exclaimed as he gathered his belongings and joined the duo. 
At 200 Park Ave. in New York City sits a skyscraper unlike any other. It was a business center, R&D center, a laboratory, a Hero HQ, and an academy for young heroes-in-training. Adorned with a stylized “A”, Avengers Tower stands as a beacon of heroism. Peter Parker muttered these words to himself as he found himself standing outside the front door. He had so many questions to ask, but one stood out amongst all the others. A question he’s had since he could talk. A question on that day he would finally have answered. 
As he stood in front of the building in a daze, Wanda and Pietro stood by his side, they both gave him a big smile. “Avengers Assemble?” Wanda asked them. 
Pietro nodded. Peter looked Wanda in the eyes, and smiled as well. “Avengers Assemble.”
~A~
“Boss, there’s an emergency at Central Park. Reports say that Carnage has been spotted and is on the run.”
“Any heroes on patrol near there?”
“Negative, boss.”
“What about Carol?”
“Captain Marvel is currently with the Invisible Woman, they’re at the Raft making sure the villain they captured earlier is in proper custody.”
“... So you’re saying that I-“
“Boss, get off your ass and be a hero.”
“I don’t remember programming you with a potty mouth, Friday.”
“And I don’t remember asking for your opinion. The suit is at 100%.”
“How long will the charge last this time?”
“About two and a half hours, boss.”
“Heh, plenty of time.”
The shutters to the darkened room opened, revealing the city down below. A man clad in red and yellow armor walks out onto a balcony. 
“Time to be Iron Man.”
To be continued...
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weekendwarriorblog · 3 years
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The Weekend Warrior Christmas - New Year’s Edition – WONDER WOMAN 1984, NEWS OF THE WORLD, PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN, ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI..., PIECES OF A WOMAN, HERSELF, SYLVIE’S LOVE and More!
Welcome to the VERY LAST Weekend Warrior of the WORST YEAR EVER!!! But hopefully not the last column forever, even though I already plan on taking much of January off from writing 8 to 10 reviews each week. It just got to be too much for a while there.
Because it’s the last week of the year, there are a lot of really good movies, some in theaters but also quite a few on streaming services. In fact, there are a good number of movies that appeared in my Top 10 for the yearover at Below the Line, as well as my extended Top 25 that I’ll share on this blog sometime next week. I was half-hoping to maybe write something about the box office prospects of some of the new movies, but after the last couple weeks, it’s obvious that box office is not something that will be something worth writing about until sometime next spring or summer.
(This column is brought to you by Paul McCartney’s new album “McCartney III” which I’m listening to as I finish this up… and then other solo Beatles ditties picked for me randomly by Tidal.)
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First up is easily one of the most anticipated movies of the year, or at least one that actually didn’t move to 2021, and that’s WONDER WOMAN 1984 (Warner Bros.), Patty Jenkins’ sequel to the 2017 hit, once again starring Gal Gadot as Diana Prince. I reviewed it here, but basically the sequel introduces Wonder Woman arch-nemeses Barbara Minerva aka Cheetah, as played by Kristen Wiig, and Pedro Pascal’s Max Lord and how an ancient artifact gives them both their powers, as well as helps to bring Diana’s true love Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) back despite him having disappeared presumed dead in WWI. As you can see by reading my review, I thought it was just fine, not great and certainly not something I’d make an attempt to see a second time in a 25% capacity movie theater. Fortunately, besides debuting in around 2,100 movie theaters across the nation, it will also be on HBO Max day and date, which has caused quite a stir. Being Christmas weekend with no work/school on Monday, I can see it still making somewhere between $10 and 12 million, but I can’t imagine it doing nearly what it might have done with most theaters only 25-30% full at the maximum and that theater count being roughly half the number it might have gotten during the “normal times.”
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Paul Greengrass’ Western NEWS OF THE WORLD (Universal) reteams him with his Captain Phillips star Tom Hanks, this time playing Captain Jefferson Kidd, a Civil War soldier who travels from town to town in the Old West reading from newspapers to anyone who has a dime and time to listen. After one such reading, he discovers a young girl (Helena Zengel) on her own, having spent the last few years with a family of Native Americans who were killed by soldiers. Together, they travel across America as Kidd hopes to bring the girl to her last surviving family members.
I already reviewed Greengrass’ movie for Below the Line, and I also  spoke to Mr. Greengrass, an interview you can read that right here (once it goes live), but I make no bones that this was one of my favorite movies I’ve seen this year, and it’s not just due to the fine work by Greengrass and his team. No, it’s just as much about the emotion inherent in the story, and the relationship between the characters played by Hanks and Zengel.  
I’ve watched the movie three times now, and I’m still blown away by every frame and moment, the tension that’s created on this difficult journey but also where it leaves the viewers at the end that promises that there can be hope and joy even in the most difficult and turbulent times. It’s a wonderful message that’s truly needed right now.
Listen, I’m not gonna recommend going to a movie theater if you don’t feel it’s safe – I’ve already spoken my peace on this at a time when COVID numbers were much lower – but this is a movie that I personally can’t wait to see in a movie theater. I honestly can’t see the movie making more than $3 or 4 million in the open theaters considering how few people are willing to go to movie theaters. Obviously, this isn’t as big a draw as Wonder Woman, but it is a fantastic big screen movie regardless.
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Also opening in theaters this Friday is Emerald Fennell’s directorial debut PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN (Focus Features), starring the wonderful Oscar-nominated Carey Mulligan as Cassie Thomas, a woman who has revenge on her mind. Cassie spends her nights picking up guys in bars by pretending she’s so drunk she can barely walk, then humiliating them and presumably worse. When she encounters an acquaintance from med school in the form of Bo Burnham’s Ryan, the two begin dating, though he ends up awakening a darker side to Cassie that seeks revenge for something that happened back during their school days. (Honestly, if you’re already sold, just skip to the next movie. That’s all I want you to know before watching it.)
I was ready to love Fennell’s movie when it opened with a disgusting shot of gross stock market bros in loose-fitting suits gyrating in slow motion before one of them tries to pick up a totally soused Cassie at the club. It’s a scene that really plays itself out quite well, and then leads into Mulligan’s character allowing another clear scumbag (played by Christopher Mintz-Plasse, maybe as a slight-older McLovin?) before turning the tables on him as well.
There’s going to be a lot of talk about this movie after people see it, since it’s one of those great films that begins a lot of conversations. I imagine most women of a certain age will love it, but some men might see themselves in some of the characters (even Burnham’s) and wonder whether Cassie just won’t take crap from any man or if she’s a full-on misandrist. One thing we do know a lot is that she does this sort of thing a lot, and there’s something from her past that has driven her involving something that happened to her female friend in med school. I’m going to stop talking about the plot here, because I definitely don’t want to spoil anything who hasn’t seen the movie, but the second half of the movie is as deeply satisfying as Tarantino’s Kill Bill in terms of the surprises.
You’ll realize while watching what a treat you’re in for when you first watch Mulligan’s amazing transformation from pretending to be drunk to being completely cognizant and just all the emotions we see her go through after that. Of course, we never really know what she’s actually doing to the guys she lets pick her up -- she keeps a notebook with guy’s names and a quizzical counting system, so we can only imagine.
Fennell’s screenplay is fantastic but her work as a first-time director in maintaining the the tone and pacing of the movie is really what will keep you captivated, whether it’s the amazing musical choices or how Cassie dresses up to lure men. There’s also a great cast around Mulligan whether it’s comic Burnham in a relatively more serious role, but one that also allows him a musical number. (No joke.) Fennel’s amazing casting doesn’t just stop there from, Jennifer Coolidge as Cassie’s mother to Laverne Cox as Gail, her workmate/boss at the coffee shop – both of them add to the film’s subtle humor elements. Alfred Molina shows up to give a show-stopping performance, and Alison Brie also plays a more dramatic role as another one of Cassie’s classmates. I can totally understand why the Golden Globes might have deemed the movie a “comedy/musical” (for about two days before going back) , but putting so many funny people in dramatic roles helps give Promising Young Woman its own darkly humorous feel. All that darkness is contrasted by this sweet romance between Cassie and Ryan that’s always in danger of imploding due to Cassie’s troubled nature.
The biggest shocking surprise is saved for the third act, and boy, it’s going to be one that people will be talking about for a VERY long time, because it’s just one gut punch after another. I loved this movie, as it’s just absolutely brilliant – go back and see where it landed in my Top 10. As one of the best thrillers from the past decade, people will be talking about this for a very long time 
Promising Young Woman hits theaters on Christmas Day, and presumably, it will be available on VOD sometime in January, but this is not one you want to wait on. If you do go see it in theaters, just be safe, please. No making out with random men or women, please.
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Regina King’s narrative feature debut, ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI... (Amazon Studios), will ALSO be in theaters on Christmas Day, and though I’ve reviewed it over at Below the Line, but I’ll talk a little more about it here just for my loyal Weekend Warrior readers.
Yet another movie that made my Top 10, this one stars a brilliant quartet of actors --  Kingsley Ben-Adir, Leslie Odom Jr., Aldis Hodge and Eli Goree—as four legendary black icons: Malcolm X, Sam Cooke, Jim Brown and Cassius Clay, on the night after the last of them wins the World Boxing Championship against Sonny Liston in February 1964. The four men meet in Malcolm X’s hotel room to discuss what’s happening in their lives and the world in general, as well as Clay’s decision to join the Nation of Islam, just as Malcolm X is getting ready to leave the brotherhood due to philosophical differences with the group. In fact, all four men have philosophical differences that are discussed both in good humor and in deep conflict as they disagree on their place in a white-dominated world in a year before the Civil Rights Act would be signed.
First of all, there’s no way to talk about this movie without discussing the Kemp Powers play on which it’s based, and we can’t mention that without mentioning that Powers also co-wrote and co-directed Pixar’s Soul, which will be available on Disney+ this Friday. It’s a fantastic script and King put together a fantastic cast of actors who really give their all to every scene. In the case of Leslie Odom, Jr., you really can believe him as Cooke, especially in a number of fantastic performances pieces. Likewise, Goree looks a lot like Clay both in the ring and out, carrying all of the swagger for which he would become more famous as Ali.
I’ve seen the movie twice already and if you’ve looked at my Top 10, then you already know this is another one that made my cut, so I don’t think I need to give it a much harder sell. I’m sure you’ll be hearing a lot about this one on its journey to Oscar night when hopefully, King becomes the first woman of color to be nominated in the directing category. Or rather, she’ll probably tie for that honor with Nomadland director Chloé Zhao.
If you don’t feel like going to theaters for this one, you’ll be able to catch it on Amazon Prime Video on January 15, too… you’ll just have to wait a little longer.
Also, the new Pixar animation movie, SOUL, directed by Pete Docter (Up, Inside Out) and co-directed by Kemp Powers (remember him?), will hit Disney+ on Christmas Day, and I reviewed it here, so I probably don’t have  lot more to say about it, but it’s great, and if you have Disney+, I’m sure you’ll be watching it.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a screener for Matteo Garrone’s PINNOCHIO (Roadside Attractions), which also opens in about 700 theaters on Christmas Day. This adaptation stars Robert Benigni as Geppeto, who famously starred as Pinocchio in his own version of the classic fairy tale from 2002. That other movie was “Weinsteined” at a time when that just meant that a movie was ruined by Harvey Weinstein’s meddling, rather than anything involving sexual assault.
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Another great movie hitting streaming this week is Eugene Ashe’s SYLVIE’S LOVE, which streams on Amazon Prime Video today. It stars Tessa Thompson as Sylvie and Nnamdi Asomugha (also a producer on the film) as Robert, who meet one summer in the late 50s while working at Sylvie’s father’s record store. He is a jazz musician who is on the rise, but their romance is cut short when he gets a gig in Paris but she refuses to go with him. Also, she’s pregnant with his child. Years later, they reconnect with her now being married with a young daughter (clearly Robert’s) and they realize that the love between them is still very real and true.
This is the first of three movies I watched this week where I went in with very little knowledge and absolute zero expectations. Like everyone else on earth, I am an avid fan of Ms. Thompson’s work both in movies like Thor: Ragnarok and smaller indies. She’s just a fantastic presence that lights up a screen. While I wasn’t as familiar with Asomugha’s acting work – he’s produced some great films and acted in a few I liked, included Crown Heights – there’s no denying the chemistry between the two.
What’s kind of interesting about the movie is that it combines a few elements from other great movies released this week, including Soul and A Night in Miami, but in my opinion, handles the music business aspect to the story better than the much-lauded Netflix movie, Ma Raimey’s Black Bottom. Frankly, I also think the performances by the two leads are as good as those by Boseman and Davis in that movie, but unfortunately, Amazon is submitting this to the Emmys as as “TV movie” rather than to the Oscars, so that’s kind of a shame.
This is a movie that’s a little hard to discuss why I enjoyed it so much without talking about certain scenes or moments, or just go through the entire story, but I think part of the joy of appreciating what Ashe has done in his second original feature film is to tell the story of these two characters over the course of a decade or so in a way that hasn’t been done before. That alone is quite an achievement, because we’ve seen many of those types of movies over the years (When Harry Met Sally, for instance).
What I really liked about Sylvie’s Love over some of the other “black movies” this year is that it literally creates its own world and just deals with the characters within it, rather than trying to make a big statement about the world at the time. Maybe you can say the same about Soul in that sense, but you would be absolutely amazed by how much bigger an audience you can get by telling a grounded story in a relatable world, and then throw in a bit of music, as both those movies do.
So that’s all I’ll say except that this will is now on Amazon Prime Video , so you have no excuse not to check it out while you wait for Regina King’s equally great One Night in Miami to join it in mid-January.
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Hitting Netflix on Christmas day is Robert Rodriguez’s WE CAN BE HEROES, his sequel to his 2005 family film The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl – not his best moment -- which follows the kids of the Heroics, a Justice League-like super group. They’re all in a special school for kids with powers but they have to step up when the Heroics are captured by aliens. Want to know what will happen? Well, you’ll just have to wait for Christmas Day for when my review drops to find out whether I liked it more or less than Rodriguez’s earlier film which SPOILER!! I hated.)
The first thing you need to get past is that Shark Boy and Lava Girl are now man and wife, and just that fact might be tough for anyone who only discovered the movie sometime more recently. There are other familiar faces in the Heroics like Pedro Pascal, Sung Kang, Christian Slater, Priyanka Chopra Jonas and more, so clearly, Rodriguez is still able to pull together a cast.
The movie actually focuses on YaYa Goselin’s Missy Moreno, daughter of the Heroic’s leader (Pascal) who has also retired. Just as aliens are invading the earth, Missy is put into a school of kids with superpowers, all kids of various Heroic members. Sure, it’s derived directly from The X-Men and/or Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, so yeah… basically also the X-Men. We meet all of the kids in a great scene where we see them using their powers and learn their personalities, and honestly, they really are the best part of the movie.Probably the most adorable is Guppy, the very young daughter of Shark Boy and Lava Girl, played by Viven Blair. Oddly, Missy doesn’t have any powers so she feels a bit fish-out-of-water in the group even though, like her father, she proves to be a good leader.
As much as I really detested Rodriguez’s Shark Boy and Lava Girl movie, I feel like he does a lot better by having a variety of kids in this one, basically something for everyone, but also not a bad group of child actors. (There’s also a fun role for Adriana Barraza​.) There are definitely aspects that are silly, but Rodriguez never loses sight of his audience, and wisely, Netflix is offering this as a Christmas Day release which should be fun for families with younger kids who might see this as their first superhero movie.
More discerning viewers may not be particularly crazy about visual FX, all done as usual in Rodriguez’s own studio but some of them look particularly hoaky and cheap compared to others. (I mean, that’s probably the appeal for hiring Rodriguez because he’s able to do so much in-house. In this case, he got all four of his own kids involved in various capacities of making the film.)
We Can Be Heroes is clearly a movie made for kids, so anyone expecting anything on part with Amazon’s The Boys will be quite disappointed. It’s probably Rodriguez getting slightly closer to Spy Kids than he has with any of his other family-friendly movies, but one shouldn’t go in with the expectations that come with any of the much bigger blockbusters released these days. Personally, I enjoyed that fact, and I totally would watch another movie with this superteam.
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Michel Stasko’s BOYS VS. GIRLS (Gravitas Ventures) is a fun retro-comedy that follows a war between the male and female counselors at Camp Kindlewood, which has just gone co-ed. At the center of it all is Dale (Eric Osborne) and Amber (Rachel Dagenais) as two teens who are in the middle of a meet-cute romance in the middle of a inter-gender competition called “Lumberman vs. Voyagers,” which I have no idea whether it’s a real thing or not.
I probably should have known I’d like this one from the catchy New Order-ish song in the opening credits, but listen, Wet Hot American Summer is one of my all-time favorite movies, and that was basically made to satirize ‘80s movies like Meatballs. This one falls more towards to the latter in terms of humor, but it also feels authentic to the ‘80s summer camp experience.
It helps that the grown-ups at the camp are played by the likes of Kevin McDonald from New Kids on the Block, Colin Mochrie from Whose Line is It Anyway and others, but it’s really about the younger cast playing teen boys and girls in the throes of puberty, something we all can in some way relate to. The young cast play a series of stereotypical young but there are a lot of funny tropes within them, as each of the cast is given a chance to deliver some of the funnier gags. This isn’t necessarily high-brow humor, mind you, but I love the fact that you can still make a movie about a time where you could still make fun of girl’s periods in school. (I’m kidding. I just put that in there cause I feel like I need to throw things like that into this column just to see if anyone is ACTUALLY reading it.)
The presumably Canadian Stasko is another great example of an independently-spirited filmmaker who has an idea for a fun movie and then just goes about making it, regardless of having big stars or anything to sell it besides many funny moments that can be featured a trailer, so that those who like this kind of movie will find it. Listen, Wet Hot American Summer wasn’t a huge hit when it was released. I still remember it having trouble getting a single screening at the multiplex in Times Square when it was released but over the years since it became sort of a cult hit (kind of due to Netflix having it to rent on DVD, I think).
Besides a fun script and cast, Stasko also find a way to include tunes that sound so much like real ‘80s songs we would have heard on the radio but aren’t quite the big hits that would have cost him thousands of dollars, but I really just enjoyed the heck out of the tone and overall fun attitude that went into making this movie.
Also on VOD now is Ian Cheney and Martha Shane’s fascinating and funny doc, THE EMOJI STORY (Utopia), which I saw at the Tribeca Film Festival when it was called “Picture Character.” (That’s what “emoji” in Japanese means, just FYI.) As you can guess it’s about the origins and rise of the emoji as a form of communication from its humble beginning in Japan to becoming one of the biggest trending crazes on the globe. I’m not that big an Emoji guy myself – I tend to use the thumbs up just for ease, but I do marvel at those who can put together full thoughts using a string of these symbols, and if you want to know more about them, this is the movie you should watch.
Now let’s cut ahead to some of the movies that will be opening and streaming NEXT week…
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Hitting select theaters on Wednesday, December 30 and what really is my “FEATURED FLICK” for this column is Hungarian filmmaker Kornél (White God) Mundruczó’s PIECES OF A WOMAN (Netflix) before its streaming premiere on Netflix January 7.
Written by Kata Wéber, who also wrote Mundruczó’s earlier film, it stars Vanessa Kirby (The Crown) and Shia Labeouf as Martha and Sean Weiss, a Boston couple who lose their baby during a particularly difficult home birth and follows the next year in their lives and how that tragic loss affects their relationship with each other and those around them.
As you can imagine, Pieces of a Woman is a pretty heavy drama, one that reminded me of the films of Todd Field (Little Children, In the Bedroom) in terms of the intensity of the drama and the emotions on screen from the brilliant cast Mundruczó put together for his English language debut. I’m not sure I could use the general plot to sell anyone on seeing this because it is very likely the worst possible date movie of the year after Netflix’s 2019 release, Marriage Story, but it’s just as good in terms of the writing and performances.
At the center of it is Kirby – and yeah, I still haven’t watched The Crown, so shut up! I’ll get to it!!! – who most of us fell in love with for her role in Mission: Impossible - Fallout, but what we see her go through as an actress here really shows the degree of her abilities. But it also shows what Mundruczó can do with material that (like many movies) started out as a play. For instance, one of the first big jaw-dropping moments is the home birth scene that goes on for a long time, seemingly all in one shot, and Kirby is so believable in terms of a woman going through a difficult birth, you’d believe she has had children herself. (She hasn’t.)  I also don’t want to throw Shia Labeouf under the bus right now just because that seems like the trendy thing to do. (Without getting it, I believe FKA Twigs… but that doesn’t deny the fact that Labeouf is just the latest great actor that everyone wants to cancel.)
Anyway, to change the subject, we have to talk about Ellen Burstyn, who plays Martha’s meddling mother, who is quite clingy and overbearing, so when the couple lose their baby, she steps in to take to task the midwife she deems responsible (played by the highly-underrated Molly Parker). Or rather, she hires a family lawyer (Sarah Snook) to take her to court to get compensation for the loss of her daughter’s baby. The film’s last act culminates as their case goes to court.
Again, the film covers roughly a year after the tragedy and deals not only with how Martha and Sean’s relationship is affected and how it emotionally affects Martha in particular, but also how others around them start behaving towards them. It feels so authentic and real that you wonder where the screenwriter was drawing from, but Mundruczó has more than prove himself as as filmmaker by creating something that is visually compelling and even artsy while still doing everything to help promote the story and performances over his own abilities as a director. Doesn’t hurt that he has composer Howard Shore scoring the film in a way that’s subtle but effective.
Listen, if you’re looking for a comedy riot that will entertain you with funny one-liners and pratfalls than Pieces of a Woman is not for you. This is a devastating movie that really throws the viewer down a deep spiral along with its characters. The first time I watched it, I was left quite broken, and maybe even more so on second viewing.  (As we get closer to Oscar season… in four months … I hope this film will be recognized and not just thrown under the table due to Labeouf’s involvement. That would be as big a tragedy and misjustice as much of what happens in the movie.)
So yeah, in case you wondered why this also made it into my prestigious Top 10 for the year, that is why. :)
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Also in theaters on Wednesday, December 30 is another terrific drama, the Phyllida Lloyd-directed HERSELF (Amazon Studios), co-written and starring Clare Dunne, as Sandra, a mother of two young girls, trying to get out of an abusive marriage, while making ends meet and providing shelter for her kids. One day, she learns about a way that she can build her own home, and one of the women she cares for offers a plot of land
Another movie that I really didn’t know much about going into, other than Phyllida Lloyd being a talented filmmaker whose movie The Iron Maiden, which won Meryl Streep her 500th Oscar, I enjoyed much more than the popular blockbuster hit musical, Mamma Mia! This is a far more personal story that reminded me of Ken Loach’s I, Daniel Blake, a smaller and more intimate character piece that shines a light on British actor Clare Dunne, who as with some of the best and most personal movie projects, co-wrote this screenplay for herself to act in.
There are aspects to the film that reminds me of many other quaint Britcoms in terms of creating a story where one person’s challenge is taken up by others who are willing to help, and in this case, it’s Sandra’s desire to build a house for her two quite adorable daughters while also trying to keep it secret from her abusive ex.
Dunne’s performance isn’t as showy as some of the other dramatic performances mentioned in this very column, but she and Lloyd do a fine job creating an authenticity that really makes you believe and push for her character, Sandra, surrounding her with characters who can help keep the movie on the lighter side despite very serious nature of spousal abuse (which also rears its ugly head in Pieces of a Woman). Oh, and don’t get too comfortable, because this, too, leads to an absolutely shocking and devastating climax you won’t see coming. (Well, now you will… but you’ll still be shocked. Trust me.)
Still, it’s a really nice movie with the house being built clearly a metaphor.  I know there’s a lot of truly fantastic movies discussed in this week’s column but don’t let this wonderful British drama pass you by, because you can tell it’s a labor of love for everyone who made it.
Herself will be in theaters for roughly a week starting December 30 before streaming on Prime Video on January 8.
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In select theaters and on VOD on New Year’s Day is Roseanne Liang’s WWII thriller SHADOW IN THE CLOUD (Vertical/Redbox Entertainment), starring Chloë Grace Moretz as Flight Officer Maude Garrett, who is assigned to deliver a top-secret package on the B-17 bomber “The Fool’s Errand” with an all-male crew that throws her into a turret “for her own safety.” She ends up getting trapped down there as the plane is attacked by a creature that no one believes is out there, as they fight back against the unseen enemy, many secrets are revealed.
This is yet another movie I didn’t know that much about other than it has Moretz on an airplane, but there’s so much about the movie that both had me scratching my head but also has me quite deliriously amused that filmmakers could get away with some of the craziness that we witness. Maybe it’s not a surprise that the movie was co-written by Max Landis -- not exactly the most beloved screenwriter in Hollywood these days, and certainly not a critical favorite.
Again I really didn’t know what to expect so after Moretz’s character gets on the plane and is trapped in the turret under the plane, I thought that maybe I was seeing something similar to the one-location thriller 7500, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt, which I wasn’t too big a fan of even though the actor was good. Moretz continues to be quite a phenomenal actor, but the mix of Mahuia Bridgman-Cooper’s music, which borrows as much from Soulwax (look ‘em up on Spotify) as John Carpenter, and the sexist attitude by the male crew towards Garrett made me unsure of what the movie was meant to say.
Much of the movie just has Moretz on her own with the men’s voices over the comms, which is not something that could possibly sustain a whole movie. Part of it is borrowed from a very well-known episode of “The Twilight Zone,” in fact.
but fortunately, it breaks from out of that deceit but then just starts getting crazier and crazier. I’m not even gonna tell you about what happens or what’s in the box Garrett is carrying or where things go, because honestly, I don’t think you would believe me.
I haven’t seen any of Ms. Liang’s previous films but when you realize how much crazy stuff she’s able to get way with, I’ll be really interested what she does next. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any movie that’s quite as crazy as Shadow in the Cloud or one that makes me want to watch it again for that very reason.
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Oscar-winning Icarus director Bryan Fogel’s doc THE DISSIDENT (Briarcliff), which opens in theaters Friday then will be On Demand January 8, follows the horrific assassination of Washington Post journalist Jamal Khashoggi in Turkey in September 2018, thought to be the work of the Saudi kingdom and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman aka MBS.
I’m really fascinated by movies like this one and Ryan White’s recent Assassins – both which could be in the Best Documentary race at the Oscars in April, by the detective and investigative work done by both filmmakers to get to the bottom of murders that shouldn’t be possible and find those that are responsible. I’ll admit that I didn’t really pay much attention to this story when it was happening a few years back, so I don’t know how much of the details are new and exclusive to Fogel’s doc. He does get access to Kashouggi’s fiancé Hatice who had gone with Jamal to the Saudi embassy in Turkey to get proof that he was single and could marry when he vanished for days and then turne up dead.
Fogel also meets with another Saudi dissident now living in Quebec who goes through the events that led up to Kashouggi’s murder that involved a social media campaign against the journalist within a country where 80% of the population is on Twitter (!).
This is another fascinating doc by Fogel that I’m sure some will be more interested in due to its subject, but when it comes to investigative pieces that really take a deep dive into news from the headlines, Fogel has created another unforgettable doc.  (Also, it was absolutely little surprise to me that Fogel’s film is co-written by Mark Monroe, who has been involved with some of the best docs I’ve seen over the past 15 years or so…  just look up his IMDB credits!)
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Opening at the Film Forum Virtual Cinema in New York for a one-week qualifying run is Russia’s movie for Oscar consideration, Andrei Kochalovsky’s DEAR COMRADES! (NEON), a black and white dark dramedy set in 1960s Kruschchev-era Russia. It involves a strike by locomotive workers when the government raises food prices, leading to chaos and a massacre that leaves a Communist party loyalist,  Lyuda (played by Julia Vysotskaya) who the film then follows. Unfortunately, I had a choice of either writing this column or watching this two-hour movie. I opted for the former (obviously) but I do hope to get to this later in the week and should be adding more on this movie once I do.
Also streaming in Film Forum’s Virtual Cinema starting next Wednesday, December 30, is Mario Monicelli’s 1960 film, The Passionate Thief.
Unfortunately, I also wasn’t able to get to Two Ways Home (Gravitas Ventures), In Corpore or Fire Will Come, which will open in Metrograph’s digital ticketing system.
Metrograph will also continue showing Tsia Ming-Liang’s Goodbye, Dragon Inn, Fruit Chan’s Made in Hong Kong, and lots of great programming over the holidays. It would be a great time to get yourself or a loved one a digital membership for just $50! (James Gray is also programming some of his own films like Little Odesssa and other favorites, like Richard Quine’s Strangers When We Meet, over the holidays.)
By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest! 
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An Alpha’s Love
Summary: Katherine Padalecki was raped and abused for years unbeknownst to her older brother, Jared. She had drilled into her head that she was too fat for love, she was unlovable, and that she would never find and alpha to call her own. After Jared finds his omega, he learns the truth and takes Katherine with him. Will Katherine find her alpha in this new city? Will he accept her, should she find him?
Paring: alpha!Jensen x omega!ofc Katherine, alpha!Jared x omega!Gen
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 5504
Square Filled: ABO DYNAMICS
Rating: EXPLICIT
Warnings: mentions of abuse and rape, slight angst, smut, dirty talk, unproteced sex (DON’T RISK IT TO GET THE BISCUIT!), mating, claiming
A/N: This is an old fic I had written years ago for another fandom. I was going through my old fics to see if I wanted to edit any of them. Well, I thought this one would make a good Jensen fic! With that said, if this kind of sucks, I’m so sorry. I would like to think I have grown as a writer from after this fic. 
Also, all thoughts will be in italics! 
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. I HAVE THE UTMOST RESPECT FOR JENSEN ACKLES AND HIS BEAUTIFUL FAMILY. THIS IS ALSO NOT HOW I ACTUALLY VIEW DONNA ACKLES. HOW SHE IS IN THIS FIC IS JUST FOR THE PURPOSE OF THE STORY.
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I hated going into town. All I ever saw were mated couples. You would think that me being a twenty-nine-year-old omega werewolf I would have found happiness with a mate of my own but alas that is not the case. Ever since I turned sixteen, I have been waiting and hoping for an alpha to claim me. An alpha had yet to claim me as his. I've assumed that because I wasn't like most, I wouldn't be getting a happy ending to my story.
I had hoped that by moving to another city with my older brother and his omega, I would find my alpha, possibly; I haven't even met the Head Alpha and he has allowed Jared and I to become members of his pack three months ago, well me rather since Jared was automatically a member due to Genevieve, being his omega.
Upon entering my desired destination, I sighed. What's the point of being a werewolf if you're not attractive and like every other werewolf? To explain, I don't have the infamous werewolf metabolism (I'm probably the only fat werewolf you will ever meet) and my physical wolf form is the size of an English Bulldog (I'm the smallest omega werewolf and pretty much all werewolves, in general, there is) so yeah; my life sucks. Another sigh.
So, I went to the store to get all my necessities as well as some food to cook for dinner. I was thinking about making my momma's fried chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy, carrots, green beans, and homemade biscuits. My tummy began rumbling at the thought of the meal I was gonna prepare for dinner. Once done, I headed back home. I didn't like spending too much time in public; I hated all the judgmental stares I received, or the ones filled with pity. It may be a new town and a new pack, but the reactions were all the same. Just like in our old pack, Jared was my only friend. Don't get me wrong Genevieve is a great woman, but I hate the look of pity on her face every time she looks at me.
When I got home, I put all my purchases away in their designated places. Since it was only noon, I decided to go to the studio and dance for a while. I may be a big girl, but I am very flexible, and I can dance.
While I was at the studio, I had a feeling of being watched. When I had finished my dance, I heard clapping. Turning around I spotted the alpha's adopted baby sister, Lea, was clapping her little hands. I had met the five-year-old on a couple of occasions and she was the sweet little girl I had ever met. So, I took a bow and it made her giggle.
"Thank you, Miss Lea for being my audience. I am so glad that you enjoyed my dance. You were my inspiration!"
Her big hazel eyes widened as well as her smile when I told her that the dance was inspired by her, which wasn't a lie. She reminded me of myself when I was her age and during a time when my parents were still alive. Granted the dance had a sad side to it but still she was my inspiration for it.
"Really? That was the most beautifulast dance I had ever seen!"
Just then the former alpha’s omega, Mrs. Donna Ackles, came in and I bowed my head in respect. She looked at me with such distaste I could almost feel and touch it. She didn't like that I was a plus sized wolf or Hispanic. Nor did she like the fact that I was unmated. In her eyes it meant that I would be after her son. Yes because, I want to go after a man I have never met let alone ever seen. Insert eye roll here.
"Momma! Kat told me that I inspired her dance! It was so amazing!" Lea beamed up at her adopted mother.
Donna's eyes softened when they turned to her youngest daughter. "Did she now, sweetheart? That was awfully sweet of her. It's time for us to go pumpkin. Jensen is supposed to get back from his trip soon." The former pack leader turned to me. "Miss Padalecki." With that she gently grabbed her daughter by the wrist to lead her out but not before she broke loose to run and hug me.
"Thank you, Kitty, it was a really lovely dance." Then the child was off with her multiple personalitied mother.
I went and changed back into my regular clothes and headed home.
Halfway home I decided I would go for a run but in wolf form. I haven't let my wolf out for a few weeks so I could feel her getting restless. I changed my course and headed for the forest. I hid behind a big enough tree and stripped out of my clothes. I put them in my dance bag before shifting.
After about fifteen minutes an interesting scent wafted into my nose. It smelt like whiskey and gun powder, an odd combination but strangely, it smelt heavenly and homely.
Not long after the scent was in my nose, did I hear a growl behind me. I froze. I began to feel frightened. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a wolf coming towards me. When he was in front of me, I was able to get a good look. I could tell that it was an alpha and that he was a hell of a lot bigger than my pup sized wolf. The alpha was just like me in color except in reverse, I was a jet black wolf with dark grey tipped ears and paws so that makes him a dark gray wolf with black tipped ears and paws. By the amount of power emitting off of him I knew immediately that he was the current Head Alpha. I bared my neck in submission, showing him that I meant no harm. Assuming by the angry look on his face he thinks I'm a feral omega.
Alpha please don't harm me. I was just letting my wolf out for a run.
Alpha Ackles stopped growling at me and cocked his head to the side in confusion. You're part of my pack? I don't recognize your scrumptious scent. I blushed at his words. I don't think he realized what came out of his mouth, still I took the compliment.
You allowed me to join your pack along with my brother whose Omega is your third in command's sister.
What’s your name Omega?
Katherine Padalecki, alpha. My brother calls me Kat while your sister calls me Kitty.
Very well, Miss Padalecki. For some reason being called Miss Padalecki by him hurt.
When he went to walk by me our fur touched causing sparks to burst throughout my body. Alpha. When I looked into his eyes, I knew it was true.
We stood staring at each other for a few minutes.
I heard him sigh in my head. Look Miss Padalecki... I bowed my head so that he wouldn't see the tears forming in my eyes. I had always feared that my alpha would reject me, if I had ever found him that is. I'm sorry Miss Padalecki but I can't accept you, at least not right now. Maybe when you've reached the legal age we can be together then. It would make me feel more comfortable and I wouldn't feel like I wasn't pressuring you into anything. I mean being Head Omega at sixteen is a lot of responsibility so I think we should wait, even if it pains me to. I have been searching for you for years, but I am willing to wait until you are legal.
I lifted my head to look at my alpha. You think I'm sixteen?
My alpha cocked his head again. Aren't you?
No Alpha, I'm not sixteen. I'm older than that. I'm older than the legal age, I'm twenty-nine Alpha. I could see the relief in his eyes.
You look so much like a pup, ‘Mega.
I sighed. Yes, I'm very tiny for an omega wolf. People are constantly mistaking me for a pup when I'm in wolf form. There are quite a few abnormal things about me. So please if want me to give you another reason to reject me, let me know and I can give you plenty, but please do it quick.
He remained silent for a moment. Why would you think I would need you to give me a reason to reject you when not only could I come up with my own reason but I don't really need one. Do you not want an alpha? He cocked his head to the other side.
I whimpered slightly at the angry look in his eyes. It's not that I don't want you, Alpha, I do, it's just that my entire life I was told that I would never find my alpha. That I would be alpha-less because mine doesn't exist.
Obviously I do exist! You're an omega, aren't you? He barked into my head. I whimpered at the force of his fury. It reminded me of my previous alpha. So, I did what I did best when I didn't want to be used by my former alpha, I ran like hell.
I could hear Alpha Ackles growling at me. Before I knew it, he had caught up to me and had tackled me to the ground. I tried to get out from underneath him, but he just bit into my shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin - just in warning. I let out a fearful whimper.
Why did you run from me? Don't you know you're not supposed to run from an alpha?
I whimpered once again. I-I'm sorry. I won't do it again just please don't hurt me where everyone can see.  By this time, I was visibly shaking. Alpha Ackles noticed just how terrified I was and eased his weight off me some -he still had me pinned to the ground but without as much force as before.
I'm not gonna hurt you, I would never hurt my omega. Why would you think I was gonna hurt you?
My former Head Alpha, Alpha Grey, whenever he was angry would use me to his advantage. He would always tell me that since I had no alpha and that I was unlovable it wouldn’t 't matter if he took me over his desk or not.
My alpha growled. It caused me to whimper again. What surprised me was when he began licking my fur to try and calm me down. Sure enough, it worked. I stopped trembling and soon he began to make me feel pleasures that were unknown to me.
He had no right to neither touch nor take what is mine. You Omega, are mine. He began rubbing his body against mine making sure that his scent was all over me as a warning to other alphas that I was his and not to be messed with. The more he rubbed, the more I wanted him.
Was I ready to willingly give myself to my alpha? I wasn't sure. My body sure was ready. He let out a husky growl once he scented my arousal.
You smell delicious ‘Mega. Mmm, you smell good enough to eat. My body shivered with desire.
Alpha? My voice full of lust.
Call me Jensen, baby girl. But I do love how sexy alpha sounds coming from your mouth.
Jensen...do you plan on mating with me? He stopped licking and rubbing his body against mine.
Do you want to ‘Mega? If you're not ready, then we can wait. I don't mind waiting until you're ready.
I don't know if I am. I mean my body is, but I don't know if I myself am. Does that make sense?
It does baby. We can wait if you want. Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to. When was the last time he took you?
Three months ago today, so the day my brother and I left.
Can you do something for me ‘Mega? Can you shift for me?
I hesitated. Not only did I not want him to see my body I didn't want him to see my scars either. It was abnormal for a wolf to scar since we healed so rapidly. Another abnormality that I didn't want him to see, but because he is my alpha, I shifted. His huge wolf body still covered my naked plus sized one. When he moved to sit in front of me to get a better look at my body, on instinct, I covered myself by trying to arrange my body in a fetal position. He growled at me.
He growled furiously upon seeing the words carved on back, courtesy of my old pack. There were words like whore, slut, unlovable, worthless, whale, fat, freak, and alpha-less.
Who did this to you? Jensen growled out. He may still have been in wolf form but since he’d accepted me as his omega, we were able to still communicate telepathically. Advantage of being mates with an alpha. Disadvantage, kind of at times, my side of the conversation was spoken out loud – like now.
"My former pack. They hated me because I was different."
He growled once again. There is nothing wrong you, you're perfect the way you are. Why didn't your brother stop them or was he in on it too?
"Jared never knew. He already had enough on his plate to have worry about me more than he ready did. He worked three jobs to keep us clothed, feed, and sheltered. You'll think differently of me when you see my eyes. You won't think I'm so perfect then."
What could be wrong with your eyes? Turn around and let me see, Kitten. I smiled slightly at the new nickname – and kind of reveled in the irony of it- and complied. I would cherish while I could.
I waited for the rejection to come. Unlike my wolf’s vibrate green eyes mine were a violet color and very cat like; I don't have a pupil; I had a slit. So, I pretty much do have cat eyes. No one knows why.
You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Even more of a reason for me to call you Kitten, huh ‘Mega? His words shocked me.
"You're not gonna reject me…?"
Jensen's wolf gave me a look like, really? No, Kitten, I'm not. I would never reject what was destined and made specifically for me.
The biggest smile graced my face. I couldn't help myself as I ran and hugged Jensen. Not a moment later did I realize that I was still naked. I watched as his wolfy eyes trailed my naked body. It turned me on as he licked his lips in lust.
Lay down for me Kitten.
I did as I was told. Once I was on the ground, Jensen's huge body stood over the top of mine. His head leaned down and licked at my left breast. I let out a huge moan. Feeling his rough canine like tongue on me was heavenly. He liked the sound I made so he did it again and again. I was amazed when he took the nipple into his mouth to suck on it. Once he was satisfied with the attention, he gave my breast the appropriate amount of attention, he moved on to the other doing the same. Thank the moon goddess that we were out in the forest so that no one could hear my extremely loud moans. If his tongue was this amazing on my breasts, I can only imagine how heavenly it would feel in other places, if you get my drift.
As if hearing the trail of my thoughts Jensen began nuzzling his face down my body. When he reached the most sensitive part of me, he growled in approval. You smell appetizing. Do you mind if I taste you Kitten?
All I could do was whimper out a please.
He grinned a wolfish grin at me. Spread those amazing legs for me ‘Mega. Those scrumptious lookin' lips too.
I spread my legs then my lips. He licked his lips again at the sight of my soaked opening. He dove right in lapping at my heated core. It felt so amazing. I almost hit my climax when he got his canine tongue inside of me. His tongue was long enough to hit just the right magic spot. The entire time my moans and screams of utmost pleasure could be heard throughout the whole forest. I wouldn't be surprises if anyone outside the forest could hear me.
I was just about to reach my climax when Jensen stopped. I whined. Kitten, do you want me to mark you now or wait till we officially mate? It's up to you.
"Do you want to mark me as yours? Would you mind being tied to me and only me?"
I have waited for you for over a decade. There is no one else in this world I would want other than you. You were the one chosen to be mine and I wouldn't exchange you for the world. Hell, I haven't even slept with any other omegas. I was saving myself for my omega, for you.
"I wish I was able to save myself for you, I had every intention of doing so..."
Don't think about that ‘Mega. It's not your fault your last alpha was a monster. So, will you let me mark you now and do the public mark when we officially mate? I just need to make my claim somehow.
I nodded my head yes. That was all I could do. I didn't deserve an amazing alpha such as Jensen, but the moon goddess blessed me with him.
Jensen got back to work pleasuring me. He gave me the most earth-shattering orgasm I have ever had. It was so powerful I could see stars. He lapped at me getting all my spilling juices. Soon he was bringing me to another orgasm. Like the first time he stopped but this time he licked his way to my left hip and bit me leaving his mark, thus, causing me to have another earth-shattering orgasm. This time I did pass out from the intensity of his pleasurable tongue.                                          
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When I awoke, I was shocked at how warm and comfy I was. I opened my eyes to see a bare chest. My eyes trailed up to see the most beautiful face I had ever seen. My alpha was an Adonis. I trailed my eyes down to see his lower half was boxer-brief clad. Trailing lower to strong thunder thighs and amazing bowl legs. I looked at myself and saw he had put one of his flannel shirts on me. I was shocked that it fit me! The sexy bastard left me without underwear as well! I will get him for this.
Focusing my eyes back on his face I noticed that he had dark dirty blonde hair, almost a brown color. He had facial hair; I loved facial hair on a man. He had a scar on the left side of his chin. I wonder what the story behind that scar was. So, I apparently wasn't the only wolf shifter with scars. That made me feel a little better about myself. The closer I looked I could see freckles cover the base of his nose and the tops of his cheeks. I lightly giggled in excitement. I just couldn’t believe that I had an Alpha that truly wanted me!  My giggling caused him to stir. His strong arms tightened around my overly thick waist.
"What's so funny my beautiful Kitten?" Oh, sweet moon goddess his voice sounded much sexier in human form. I almost orgasmed at the sound of his voice. He then groaned. "If you don't want me to make love to right this instant, I suggest you tone down that heavenly scented arousal of yours."
I don't know what came over me, but I began rubbing my lower half against his. "What if I want you to make love to me?" Jensen let out a moan that made me wetter than I already was.
Finally, he opened his eyes. They were the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. I was getting so lost in them. I could already see his love for me as well as desire and lust.
Continuing with my boldness I pushed against him so that I was straddling him. I could feel how well-endowed my alpha was. My core was right on his boxer-brief covered cock. It felt good. I gently rocked my hips causing us both to let out soft moans. Jensen put hands on my hips to try and hold me still.
"Omega, I'm serious. If you don't want to officially mate, please stop teasing me." My Alpha managed to get out.
"Oh, but you feel so good against my bare pussy alpha." Where the hell did that come from? Looks like my alpha brings out my inner slut.
Jensen bucked his hips up making his endowment rub harder against my core. Damn that felt good. "Oh, you are naughty my Kitten. I like those dirty words." He bucked into me again. "I wanna hear more dirty words come from that pretty little mouth of yours." He growled out.
I smirked down at my gorgeous alpha. I leaned down so my lips were touching his ear. "It felt so amazing having your wolf's tongue in my pussy. You really know how I like my pussy eaten. I can't wait to feel your mouth on my aching and soaking pussy again. I know it's gonna feel just as amazing to have your cock inside of me, pounding me into submission." I felt the vibration of his growl all the way to my heated core. "You like that Alpha? Do you feel how wet I am for you? Can your cock feel how much my pussy is weeping for it?"
Without warning Jensen flipped over with him still in between my legs but with my wrists raised above my head. His eyes were jet black. His wolf had come out to play.
"Don't tease me little kitten if you don't plan on mating."
I pouted playfully. "What if I want your hard cock pounding into my dripping wet pussy until you fill me to hilt with your cum? What if after you've knotted and filled up my pussy I wanna clean your cock with my mouth and make you hard again just so I can watch you come all over my pussy, drenching me inside and out with your cum. I want my pussy to be swimming and completely coated in your cum. I don’t wanna see an inch of bare skin, alpha." I wrapped my legs around Jensen's waist cause our lower halves to rub together, creating more friction. "That my darlin' is somethin' I want. Right. Now." I managed to break one wrist free and get it down his boxer-briefs, grasping his erect member. Jensen let out a gasp upon contact.
I pulled him out of his undergarments and began stroking him. His face contorted into one of pleasure. "Such a big boy. Does my hand feel good Alpha? You gonna be a good Alpha and give your omega exactly what she wants?"
Jensen's eyes opened, not the eyes of his wolf but still dark with lust and desire. "Are you sure this is what you want, Kitten? I don't want to make you do anything you don't wanna do and not because you think you have to. If you’re not ready, we can wait. I have no problem waiting for you to be ready."
My face went from seductive and playful to serious in no time. "I'm sure Jensen. I know you would never force anything upon me, let alone your body. I know you're not him. I want you Jensen, so much that it literally hurts. I am seriously aching for you to be inside of me."
He needed no more words of encouragement. He let go of my wrist and ripped open his shirt - what used to be his shirt I should say. Taking my hand off his erection I removed what was left of the shirt. He was quick to remove his underwear. He repositioned himself between my legs. "Before I make love to my beautiful omega, I am going to kiss you until you can't breathe. I haven't kissed you yet and I really want to." I was a little nervous. He would be my first kiss.
Jensen lowered his lips to mine. He gave me the most passionate first kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. I wanted to keep kissing him, not caring if we mated or not. I just wanted to continue to feel his lips on mine.
After making out for a good while, I began rocking my hips against his erection. Jensen broke the kiss to let out a groan. "Okay I get it baby girl. One pounding coming right up." He grabbed a hold of his cock and positioned himself at my entrance. Being the amazing alpha that he is, he entered me slowly so that I could adjust to his big cock. He was a lot bigger than my former Head Alpha. My walls were tight around him. It was slightly painful, I felt as if I was losing my virginity all over again. The difference is that this time it's with my real alpha and he is being so gentle with me, for now at least. Once he was completely buried inside of me, he stopped his movements. "Tell me when to move ’mega. I don't want to cause you more pain."
It was a moment before I thrusted my hips up to get him to move. At first, he moved slowly but gradually sped up his pace until it was to my satisfaction. Just like I wanted he pounded me into submission. The headboard was banging against the wall so loudly I was surprised no one tried to come in and check to make sure everything was okay. Although, I was glad no one did.
I could tell Jensen was reaching his end when he began sucking and licking the top of my left breast where he would place my other mark. Soon my alpha’s knot was expanding and filling me to the brim with his seed, so much so it was gushing out of me. Once again, he gave me an earth shattering orgasm but thankfully this time I didn't pass out.
Jensen pulled his teeth and cock, after it had deflated, out of me causing me to whimper and laid down next to me. He pulled me to him; I rested my head on his sweaty chest. We needed a moment to catch our breaths. Jensen kissed my forehead lovingly. "That was the most amazing experience ‘mega. I am so glad that I waited for you. There will never be anyone else who will ever be able to satisfy me like you can. So, my naughty omega, where have you been hiding this vixen?"
I hid my face in the crook of his neck. I was suddenly embarrassed for my behavior earlier.
"What's wrong Kitten? Do you regret it...? Was I not good?"
I whined at how sad and vulnerable my alpha sounded. "I could never regret the love we just made. It was perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better first time with my alpha. I just don't know what came over me. I'm not usually so... slutty and dirty. You... you make me feel beautiful and desirable, even if I am fat and covered in scars."
Jensen's wolf growled in anger. "You my love, are not fat! Yes, you have extra meat on your bones but that does not make you fat! You have the sexiest curves I have ever seen. If I ever hear you referring to yourself as fat again you will be punished. As for your scars they may be malicious words but on you they are beautiful. They are what make you who you are. I won't stand to hear you think or say anything negative about yourself. If I do you will be punished. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Alpha."
His face softened. "’Mega, you don't have to constantly call me Alpha. It makes me feel like I am inferior to you. You're my equal. The only time you are allowed to address me as alpha is when we are in the bedroom, okay baby girl?"
I nodded my head before placing it back on his chest. Listening to his heart beat I fell into a deep sleep.
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                                                       When I awoke, I felt around the sheets for the warmth of my alpha and was saddened to only find coldness. I sat up in bed pulling the sheet up my body to cover up my nudity in case someone walked in. I felt freezing without Jensen's warmth.
Just as I was about to remove the sheet to find my clothes the door opened. I held the sheet tighter to me. I was so happy to see my alpha. He was in a fresh clean pair of boxer-briefs and he was carrying a tray.
When he looked up and saw me looking at him, he blushed. The alpha of the Wayward Sons Pack was blushing all because I caught him bringing me breakfast in bed. My alpha was too adorable.
"Are you blushing Mr. Ackles?" I couldn't hide the smirk on my face.
"I wanted to surprise my beautiful omega with breakfast in bed. So, forgive me for being a little flustered that you caught me." Jensen spoke as he sat next to me placing the tray over my lap.
On the tray were two half blueberry-half chocolate chip waffles. Some eggs and bacon as well as some cinnamon rolls. For beverages there was a glass of orange juice as well as a cup of joe, black just the way I like it. I couldn't forget about the beautiful white rose that accompanied everything on the tray.
I was speechless, breathless. This was the most amazingly sweet gesture any guy had ever done for me. Judging by what looks like dried batter next to his lips I'm gonna assume that he made all of this for me and it's my favorite breakfast foods no less.
"Is there something wrong? I can make you something else if you would like..." Jensen spoke out in a rush when he noticed my watery eyes.
I shook my head no. "It's perfect Jensen. How-how did you know all my favorites?"
"I called your brother...He's quite the intimidating guy. I can tell that you mean the world to him. It makes me happy to know that you have a protective brother like him."
My mouth fell open in shock. Again, I was speechless. "Thank you, for breakfast. It means the world to me that you would go as far as contacting my older brother to find things out. I really couldn't have asked for a sweeter alpha." I couldn't help leaning to my left side and kiss him in appreciation.
After a moment we broke away and began eating the delicious meal he had prepared. I swear that his food was orgasm worthy; it was that good. While munching on a piece of bacon I had a thought.
"Where is everyone? I mean I know that we were... loud... last night and yet no one came in to make sure we were alright. I'm not complaining that no one did I'm just shocked no one came to ask what the ruckus was..." It was my turn to blush. Thankfully, Jensen decided not to comment on it, this time.
"My room is soundproof. I knew that one day I would be bringing my omega, and only my omega, in here and I wanted to make sure that we would not be disturbed in any form so when the pack house was remodeled I had them make my room soundproof as well as any room that belongs to mates that choose to live here in the pack house."
My mouth formed an "o". "That makes sense. I am glad you had the room sound proofed otherwise I would have been very embarrassed if someone had walked in on us." Jensen smiled and kissed my forehead and we went back to eating in a comfortable silence.
Never did I would ever think I would ever find mate or any type of love. Who would have thought I would actually have an alpha’s love? I sure as hell didn't and I couldn't be happier.
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Wayward Squad:
@ladywinchester1967 @the-story-doesnt-end @maddiepants @dean-winchesters-bacon @dammitsammy​ @snffbeebee​ @waywardnerd67​
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flych1 · 4 years
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Kehlani singer on her new album
Kehlani, singer on her new album
Photo: Pari Dukovic
Kehlani
In early March, Kehlani was due to meet his label. She was preparing to release her second album - her first since she had a baby and a return to her roots R-B. She was scheduled to perform the first part of Justin Bieber's Changes tour, as well as a number of dream solo dates. Atlantic executives told him they believed in the album, which was scheduled for release on April 24, its 25th anniversary, but the coronavirus pandemic made it impossible to develop a promotion plan. We'd have to postpone it. "I was casting actors and actresses. I was doing all kinds of things," she says of all the pre-production she had completed at the time of the mid-March meeting. We're talking about a video call from Zoom; Kehlani sits alone in a sunny room in his Los Angeles home. (Later, she will be joined by her dog, a pint of ice cream and a tequila-based drink with a slice of orange coming out). It just so happens that today is the original release date. They said, "We don't think you should take it out,"" she said. "And then I went to my room and made the 'Toxic' video on my laptop." She posted it on YouTube at the end of March. "People messed with it," she adds. When Kehlani's label accepted her request to release the album this month, it was stipulated that she had to do it all herself. "If all we do is make music and press the button, then you can do it," she says. "And I was like, 'Okay, challenge accepted fucking.'" So now Kehlani and her photographer, with whom she's in quarantine, are planning and editing music videos, photoshoots, and album coverage. (She also lives with her daughter, two younger siblings, a close friend and her assistant). His garage has been converted into a two-level studio, one side for music, the other for visuals. Kehlani has been a professional musician since the age of 13. A series of mixtapes - full of overshares about having a heart built and broken - and a random but successful debut album have already made her a leading figure in the industry. His music is R-B in its purest form: songs about how love defeats you, about floating on the pure adrenaline of a crush, about the desire of someone you can't trust in your heart. It's no coincidence that when white artists like Bieber and Charlie Puth want to look into an R-B sound, they call on Kehlani to help them. The new album, It Was Good Until It Wasn't, is part of a revival of the genre in the midst of its fiercest debates. It is also a transition disc, a bridge between adolescence and adulthood. Throughout her career, Kehlani has been considered the daughter of the R-B: sexy but boyish. In her old music, she played with both sides of the binary. On the new record, it got too big. She did so immediately after giving birth to her daughter Adeya, who is now one year old. (She is currently co-parenting with her ex, Adeya's father, Javaughn Young-White, younger brother of Jaboukie from the Daily Show). "People would always be like, Kehlani is adorable or, like, Kehlani is cool hella. But then I had a baby and it made me look more feminine," she says. "So I guess I thought, OK, I'm going to start shaking my ass and talk about it." (She wanted Bieber to do a song for her album, but he refused. "Because he's a super-married guy now, it didn't really fit," she said. Kehlani's self-managed music video for "Toxic", filmed with the only camera on her MacBook, shows the nervous figure of the singer slipping and squirming, rubbing her arms and hips. "Don Julio has ridiculed me for you," she tells her former lover that she won't reach out to him, even if her body urges her to do it out of instinct. Kehlani insists this is not his last relationship, which ended publicly and painfully, with Compton rapper YG earlier this year. It's the kind of personal drama that made headlines and made Kehlani's blog famous. She writes songs that address all of this openly. Her fans grow up with her career because she is transparent, sometimes to excess. Or, as she says, I do in public, and it makes people feel like I'm not a stranger. I'm a person with a human ass. I'm screwing up in front of the whole world." The conversation about the state of the R-B was revived last November, when Lizzo, often considered a pop artist, won album of the year at the Soul Train Awards, beating soul singer Ari Lennox. ("It's clear that I'm not cool enough," Lennox tweeted after his loss. Last February, rapper Young M.A. went further, saying that "we barely have R-B". Indeed, in recent years, the superstars of the genre - like SWV, Boyz II Men, Ginuwine, Toni Braxton - and their musical descendants have mostly failed to stop the charts as they did two decades ago; many contemporary black musicians evade the label, preferring to be called "alternative R-B", while others experiment more with genres that were once declared out of bounds by the guardians. Kehlani, on the other hand, is part of a coterie of artists who maintain the relevant R-B today, alongside newcomers like Summer Walker, Bryson Tiller and Lennox. She has a song for every step of a relationship: going under it, going over it, watching the door ahead, a personal promise to stop texting her. His music seems new - not as a consistent copy of a Brandy song - but the influence is palpable. She finds the current debate about gender - what the R-B is, what it was and where it has gone - boring. It may no longer sound like it did in the 90s, but rappers (think, more recently, Drake) have expanded it beyond the desperate desire (or desperate loves) of the last century. "I think people don't know enough about music to make these kinds of accusations [that the R-B no longer exists]. The R-B is simple lyrics and a great song. Lots of harmonies and batteries and melodic production," she says, as if it were easy. "I'll never be able to make 90s R-B music. I'm never going to be able to make R-B music from the early 2000s, because that's not when I was making music. It wasn't when I experienced things that shaped my words and my sound." Kehlani was born in Oakland and raised by her aunt. His mother struggled with drug addiction, and his father died when he was 24 years old and she was very young. A stint on America's Got Talent put her in touch with Nick Cannon, who paid for her to spend time in the studio to make her first mixtape in 2014. On Cloud 19, you can hear the beginnings of a great talent: his voice is more acute and younger, but it is overflowing with emotion. On the deck of Cloud 19's "As I Am" film, she sings and succeeds in the chorus of a Mary J. Blige classic. A week after the release of her second mixtape in 2015, she signed with Atlantic Records. Kehlani turned to pop with his debut album of 2017, SweetSexySavage, an album full of rushed and half-finished ideas. It was carried out amid a personal mental health crisis, sparked by rumors that she cheated on her ex-boyfriend, NBA player Kyrie Irving, in 2016. The relentless online bullying led her to attempt suicide. (Kyrie Irving later admitted that she had never been unfaithful.) "I started an album as a person and experienced the most traumatic event of my life," she says. Her label held on until the deadline, letting her make an album from songs she barely recognized. "I had no connection with the music," she says. "I was embarrassed about everything." The new record is a reset, closer to the Grammy-nominated mixtapes that made it famous. It Was Good Until It Wasn't Gives you the Pure B-R rush, the R-B "waiting for you to call me", the R-B "the only thing that interests me is you": the hits of Brandy and Monica in the 90s, the classics of Alicia Keys of the early 2000s who fall in love. She is also less affected by the nostalgia of adolescence than by the immediacy of adult desires. His first mixtapes were about childhood and adolescence; It Was Good Until It Wasn't at peace with the way most conflicts or heartaches unfold. The title comes from a conversation with a friend about her recent breakup. That's the life of this, you know? she said. The is good and then it's not good anymore. Although she has been in the industry since she was a teenager, Kehlani has never had any decisive success for her career, and it is unlikely that the new album will deliver one. "F-MU" is hot and dancing, and the collaboration with Canadian R-B star Tory Lanez, "Can I," is a sexy earworm - although neither song seems particularly suited to virality. His greatest successes are gossip blogs that overshadow his music. His three-month relationship with YG ended just after they released a song together proclaiming their love. (Their duet came out on the eve of Valentine's Day 2020; three days later, she released a breakup song after images of him cheating her surfaced). Minutes before one of our calls, Kehlani posted a series of tweets about a feud with another Oakland native, rapper Kamaiyah, who slammed her on Instagram Live about a previously unreleased mixtape and accused her of being a colorist, among other things. "She gave the green light to my family and me and told everyone in Oakland to kill us for a song," Kehlani says. (Kamaiyah later replied, telling Kehlani, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't threaten you," but added that "a green light means going like a fight, not shooting"). A moment after our discussion, she answered a phone call from a friend and nervously asked if her tweets - which had let the rapper know there was no bad blood - were correct, if she had handled the situation properly. Kehlani and Kamaiyah had long argued over a joint mixtape, which was to be released before the release of their two albums. Her production was difficult, and even the basic decisions - how many songs she should have, what it should be called, what the visual aesthetic should be - met, according to Kehlani, with Kamaiyah's resistance. In the end, she had had enough of back and forth, and the mixtape didn't seem as essential to her as the release of her album. When she came back to our call, her mood was appalled. I tried to contact her to do good business and she said, "If the project doesn't come out, you can't have it [one piece]," she says. "Even though I wrote it." Once again, she was swept away in a drama she couldn't control, tweeting clarifications about a quarrel she didn't care about, instead of celebrating the upcoming release of her album. But why challenge a misinterpretation if she is tired of getting carried away by the drama? How can I put this to rest and out of my body? Because I don't want to wear them," Kehlani says. "Even if you never want to piss me off again, how can I make sure you know it's love on this side?" she tweeted Kamaiyah to let the rapper know she wished him the best. She is satisfied with the way she has defused an unexpected quarrel. A few years ago, it would not have been as weighted. It took a lot of to get to this point, she says. The death of two friends in three months has put a lot of things in perspective. Philadelphia rapper Chynna overdosed in April at age 25; Minnesota rapper Lexii Alijai, whom Kehlani considered "a little sister," overdosed on New Year's Day at just 21 years of age. Lexii Alijai was scheduled to perform the first part of the post-Bieber tour as the headliner. "I couldn't believe it because Alijai was so young," she says. "It was a click, it was amazing, it was sad and it was heartbreaking. I'm always trying to find the best way to help them continue their legacy." Being 25 was also more than a quarter of a life. It was a horizon she never thought she would see. "I've always had a strange feeling about being 25 or older," she says. "It's a shock because I'm now older than my father was." that's part of what made It Was Good Until It Wasn't feel like the album she finally grew up on. "I wanted to be 25 on this one," she says.
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asoftervirge · 4 years
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A Royal Family: Logicality edition
RATING: PG PAIRINGS: L. Sanders/P. Sanders (main); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (mentioned) 
FIC WARNINGS/KINKS: N/A FIC SUMMARY: Despite want Logan did throughout Patton’s pregnancy, he has no regrets about their son.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: And here it is. My little piece that I did for A Royal Miracle’s one year anniversary. I want to thank every single person who commented, liked, reblogged and everything else you’ve done to support this fic. It has meant the absolute world to me and I wouldn’t have been able to finish it without all of you. And so, without further ado, let’s revisit the Logicality family from this AU. Happiest of Birthdays to Logan! x Virge
If you told Logan he and Patton would be parents to a cute son named Oliver, he’d look at you perplexed.
But now? He wouldn’t have it any other way.
He and Patton and little Ollie were in a small, private section of the Royal Gardens as opposed to the main garden itself, as that was where the Royal Family would mainly be.
Originally, it was Patton’s idea, as the moral Beta wanted to have a happy day with Logan and their son, just the three of them with no work or any other duties keeping them apart.
At first, Logan was adamant about not causing confusion and delay within the palace by not doing any work; however, after some gentle reassurance from Virgil, and some stubborn encouragement from Roman, he simply obeyed his King and Queen and spent the day with his family.
And after spending a whole day outside— with the ability to allow his shoulders to slump and his posture to relax, and to have a slightly unkempt look with no one to judge or criticize— he was quite satisfied.
The sky was ombre with dark plus and purples, not completely black just yet. Dots of sparkling white decorated the sky. The moral Beta can see very familiar shapes as he gazed up at them from his position on the grass, searching for some of his particular favorites.
He gazes away from the star-dusted sky as he heard soft footsteps padding towards him. Little Ollie was staring down at him with his big, deep blue eyes.
Logan sits up a little, putting most of his weight on his arms as he stared at his son with a gentle look. “Hello, my son. Is there something you need?”
Oliver shook his head. Even if the boy can speak a multitude of words at this point in his development, he had his moments of being quiet and observant very much like his father. He holds his tiny little hands out and presents something to Logan.
It was a flower crown. Patton had taught their son to make some earlier that afternoon after helping Oscar, the Royal Gardener, tend to some of the plants that he was curious about. His wide eyes watched as his daddy weaved and chained certain flowers together to make a wreath for his hair.
Quickly, the little boy picked up the skill, and now he was presenting his creation to the logical Beta.
Unlike the one on his son’s head— made up lilacs, symbolizing the joys of youth; and spring crocuses, symbolizing youthful gladness— the one in his hand were made up of wildflowers with some lavender and sage weaved in as well— symbolizing virtue and wisdom respectively.
Logan turned red in the face. “Is…Is that for me?”
Oliver nodded. There wasn’t a smile on his face, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that very much reminded him of Patton.
Logan sat up a little more and bent his head enough for his son to place the chain within his dark hair. The small flowers and herbs looked dark against his head due to the darkness, but from how his son looked satisfied, the logical Beta considered that to be enough.
“Thank you, my boy.”
Now Oliver smiled. He trotted toward his father, diving head first into his lap. Logan grunted as he was thrown back down onto the damp grass, but a warm laugh left his lips.
“Wha fader do?” the Omega toddler whispered in curiosity. Logan moved him so he was laying on his chest, a gentle hand running through his dark, curly locks.
“I’m looking for constellations.” the logical Beta whispered back.
Dark blue eyes widened in excitement and even more curiosity; his head was thrown back as he hastily looked up like his father. Logan chuckled and carefully maneuvered his son off his chest so he was also lying on the grass beside him.
“Where stars?”
Logan starts to explain in a hushed tone, pointed at each one he finds. “Right there, that’s Ursa Major, the Great Dipper. And right underneath it is the Leo Minor, the lesser Lion.”
Oliver squints before nodding, paying attention to his father’s words. “Like Uncle Woman?”
A snort followed by a snicker. The Omega toddler should be fortunate said uncle isn’t out here with them, otherwise it’d be a night of indignant, kingly noises and a bruised ego.
“Yes,” he says when he’s calmed. “Very much like Uncle Roman.” He continues to point and whisper, “Above the Ursa Major is the Ursa Minor, the Little Bear. Within the bears you can see the Dippers—”
“Fader?”
“Yes, my boy?”
“Why we whisper?” Oliver asked.
Logan stopped abruptly, finger lowering a little. “I’m…I’m not sure. But I’m sure you were the one who started it.”
Oliver shook his head. “No.”
Logan nodded. “Yes.”
Oliver shook his head faster. “No!”
Logan nodded slower. “Yes!”
“Are my boys having fun out here?” an amused voice called out to them.
Both of them looked up to see Patton standing in front of his mate’s feet. In his hands was a tray of goblets and a bottle, steam rose up from them, meaning it was warmed milk; underneath of his arms was a giant pillow and a blanket; and still on his head was the flower crown he made earlier, which were of daisies (innocence and purity) and sunflowers (adoration).
His son nods, beaming happily. “Fader tell me of stars!”
“Constellations,” Logan gently corrects with a small smile.
Patton also smiles happily. The logical Beta’s heart fluttered in his chest. It was little things like that that showed him just how much of his husband was also in their son.
“Is that right?” he asks as he kneels down beside his family. He sets down the tray of warmed milk and arranges the blanket and pillows for them.
“Yeah! He talk about spoons!”
“Spoons?”
“The Dippers.”
Patton giggles, nodding in understanding.
Once everything was in place, the family climb on top of the soft, fluffy material. Patton’s head was resting against his mate’s shoulder while their son was cozied up between them. Logan had a hand resting on the moral Beta’s waist.
“Now, what were you going to say about spoons?”
Logan scowled lightly, but continued to talk about any stars and constellations that were shining above them.
“Fader?” Oliver asks again.
“Yes?”
“What you favwite star?”
Logan ponders that question thoughtfully before turning to his family. Patton saw something akin to love and happiness shining in his eyes, similar to the twinkles in the sky.
“I like to think my favorites are the ones that are right beside me.” He gently twists and gives his husband a sweet kiss. When Oliver giggled and let out a high-pitched ‘ewww!!,’ Logan and Patton smiled and started tickling their son’s belly.
The Omega toddler shrieked in laughter, hands clapping in glee.
Hearing their son laughing brought laughter to them. They continued to laugh and smile until their cheeks were red and their lungs were out of breath.
When Oliver let out a yawn, Patton giggled. “I think it’s time for all of us to go to bed.” he says as he reaches over to grab the goblets and bottle of warmed milk. “But first, some milk to warm our bellies.”
Logan affectionately rolled his eyes while Oliver giggled as he made grabby hands for his bottle.
“Puns, Patton. Really?”
“What can I say, I’m a punny guy!”
This time a groan with another giggle.
They drank their warmed milk and continued to talk about constellations until Oliver began to drift off to sleep. When he did, Patton rushed back inside to grab some an extra blanket so they wouldn’t get cold in the spring night air.
He came back and covered them all with the blankets before snuggling into them.
“Lo-Lo?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you regret everything that we’ve been through?” Patton asks in a gentle voice, genuinely curious as to what Logan would tell him.
Like before, Logan had to ponder that thoughtfully, but he also knew he had to be serious about it.
He remembered how upset and cold he was when the moral Beta wanted to use the Felix Gestare potion in order to try and have a baby. It went against all the science and logic that Logan had studied for years and years. Even if Thomas and his late Consort, a Beta and Alpha respectively, had Roman this way, it was something that the logical Beta didn’t want for them.
However, Patton was very adamant about it. And so, Emile gave him the potion, they mated (albeit, a little forcefully, particularly from Logan’s end), and soon, they were pregnant with Oliver.
And throughout, Logan maintained some form of distance. While he felt guilty about it later, back then, he had a very good reason: Thomas nearly died in childbirth, and he didn’t want his mate to go through the same thing. Sure enough…that nightmare almost came true.
Patton suffered an internal hemorrhage, leaving Logan to suffer with his thoughts (even if it was only for about a day). But even still, it made the logical Beta truly realize how much he truly loved his husband and for him to possibly be dying crushed him immensely.
“No,” he finally says with a yawn. He slips off his glasses and rests them in a spot where they wouldn’t break. “Despite my negative emotions, and I still apologize for that, I do not regret us having the experience that gave us our Oliver Flynn.”
And he truly means that. Oliver is one of the purest lights of Logan’s life, someone who would the logical Beta would do any and everything for besides Patton (and the Royal Family, but that’s besides the point).
“Good,” Patton whispers, looking down at their little boy. He gently runs his fingers against his soft, curly hair, listening to his soft snores. “Because I don’t regret it either.”
Logan gently takes his mate’s glasses off and places them where he laid his own. He kissed his son’s head, then kissed Patton’s cheek.
“I love you, Patton,” he whispers as he drifts off to sleep. “I love you both…”
Patton smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s hair. “We love you too, Lo-Lo.”
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digitaldiscipline · 5 years
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Dan Simmons showed his ass, so I handed it to him.
[Review] Carrion Comfort
(Originally posted 27 Feb 13)
I'm going to say this right up front: Stephen King doesn't know shit about what makes a horror story great. His cover blurb, proclaiming Dan Simmons' sophomore effort, Carrion Comfort, "One of the three greatest horror novels of the 20th century," is frankly and flatly ignorant, in addition to being laughably inaccurate. This wouldn't even be a top-three book in King's own body of work, and nobody's going to mistake the guy for a grandmaster of anything but pulp (and I say this as someone who owns about five linear feet worth of King's books in hardcover and trade paperback; I read just about everything he wrote up through the turn of the century; I may be performing a hatchet job, but it's an informed hatchet job). Guillermo del Toro penned a similarly effusive and purple blurb, presumably in exchange for the other six shots of absinthe he'd been bribed with to write it. Even the meta for this novel, released as a 20th anniversary special, where Simmons details the novel's journey to publication, is a steaming pile of overwrought hubris. It weighs in at thirty-two pages, most of which is Simmons' assertion that he's smarter than the publishing industry and, specifically, an editor he takes pains not to name, but describes unflatteringly (both physically and intellectually) who, eventually, I came to sympathize with... her eventual assertion that he scrap everything but the title was an opinion I shared about five hundred or so pages in, too. So, to the text itself. There are, to its credit, very few typographical errors[1], though it's obvious Mr. Simmons (and whomever may or may not have edited this thing) doesn't know the first fucking thing about physics, firearms, sharks, or vampires. He's watched too many episodes of Starsky and Hutch to be able to write a decent action scene (frenetic, disjointed, implausible... it's almost painfully obvious that he wrote this book to end up as a movie, even including a Hollywood producer and a couple sexy starlets who serve almost no purpose but to be sexual objects). Leaving aside the story's specific shortcomings, there's the small matter of craft, which can be most easily and kindly be summarized by saying that the author bit off way, way more than he could chew. This book wants to be a psychological monster horror story wrapped around some plucky discrimination victims interwoven with a political potboiler. It manages this trick with all the grace and elegance of a truck full of cheap beer going over a guardrail and rolling down an embankment made of lawn jockeys, rejected Tom Clancy novels, and Bram Stoker's spinning corpse. The villains are supposed to be psychic vampires, and, early on, it's suggested that they draw power, sustenance, and longevity from using their power to compel people in their thrall to commit acts against their will, specifically murder and/or suicide. Unfortunately, the only one who appears to have resisted the ravages of time particularly well takes a mid-caliber bullet to the forehead before the end of the first act, and the author actively ignores the fact that one of the chief antagonists becomes exponentially more powerful, causing a substantial amount of sustenance-providing chaos, while remaining little more than a breathing corpse. Maybe this was Simmons' way of suggesting they don't draw power from exerting power.... or maybe it's just sloppy writing. But if this is the mechanism upon which the entire horror premise is built on, maybe you ought to think it through a little more comprehensively and pay attention to the rules of the world you build. (To this end, I'm currently giving the author of the book I'm editing a ration of shit over the logistics of her characters' commute and how a made-up drug might work with a made-up physiological condition, because they're introduced and need explaining to keep secondary things from unraveling.) When it's something as large and prominent as the mechanism by which your vampires vampire, you might want to not fuck that up or ignore it altogether. Likewise, there are broad hints that the bad guys are a shadowy, world-controlling behind-the-scenes force, ensconced in the halls of quiet power (because that's never been a cliche).... but without ever actually doing much more than pulling some strings to fatally harass friends and family of the protagonists, and the protags themselves. Illustrative of petty tyrants, or just a cheap swipe at Washington, carried out by someone who thinks that J. Edgar Hoover was actually the most powerful man in the world during his formative years? The topic of race, in a couple of dimensions, is slathered on this book so heavily that you'd think Al Jolson used it to wipe his face after a show. We have the young black woman whose father is killed teaming up with the Holocaust survivor, teaming up against a bunch of white people; all but two of which are old white guys in suits (one of whom is a former Nazi officer; another is a closeted televangelist); the other two are a young white guy who is a blatant sexual predator and an old white woman who is an overt, old-school Southern racist. Racial tensions were high in the late 70's, and there were plenty of cold war fears to go around, but, really, having the FBI used as puppets to go shooting up the Philadelphia slums, while not a finger is lifted by local police, and the Mossad being white-kinghted to aid the protagonists is laying it on a bit thick. What passes for moral ambiguity is almost immediately undermined by sermonizing on both sides, good and bad. Simmons admits in the foreword to more or less ripping off the collective gestalt of the child-monster horror trope that was big in theaters during the late 1970's. I'd love to say this is a complex and heady blend of body-snatcher paranoia with notes of victimization (two of the three main protagonists are preyed on ("Used" in the book's parlance) by the bad guys at various times, and the author isn't at all shy about calling it "mindrape" early and often, but that's a lot more credit than is due. This book has pretentions of moral philosophy, but it's flat and preachy and, frankly, Neal Stephenson does "here are several paragraphs of completely irrelevant and sanctimonious shit I think is interesting and am going to force you to read now" better. There's also the matter of what is simply bad writing. We have a scene where we're told, "Natalie awoke to the sound of an explosion."  She spends one sentence disoriented and getting dressed, and two sentences looking for the other people she was sharing accommodations with. She then steps outside to admire how nice and blue the sky and how pleasant the weather is "Natalie went downstairs and out the front door, marveling at the blue sky and warm air" (page 487 in the TPB edition). Then she spends a sentence checking out the landscaping. Then she walks around the yard to see where the noise is coming from. JESUS CHRIST IT'S AN EXPLOSION LET'S CHECK OUT THE SCENERY.  This kind of inept action is endemic, even without Checkhov's gun masquerading as a bandolier of C-4. In the book's favor, it kills off a love interest early and unapologetically, it doesn't flinch about depicting some touchy shit (even ineptly, at least Simmons is trying to make some social commentary), and is blissfully ignorant of the Bechdel test, which it skirts fairly thoroughly (since the aforementioned baddie is a mean old broad, she talks to both of the other main female characters, though they do spend most of this time discussing their plans, which generally revolve around doing harm to various men). [1] As anyone who lived at the time knows, the personable gentleman who hosted Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom was named Marlin Perkins, not Martin. At the time, fucking this guy's name up would be the contemporary equivalent of saying "Darryl O'Reilly" or "Bob Stewart"; the man was the host of one of the most popular shows on television, and there were a lot fewer fucking channels back then. Very little of the foregoing has probably gone unsaid by the folks at Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11286.Carrion_Comfort ; however, I'm not going to plow through all of those before hitting "post" and putting this thing behind me. I may, in fact, perform the act of near-sacrilege and tear out the page upon which the person who gave it to me penned an inscription before remaindering the book to my favorite used book store so that someone else can subject themselves to it. One half of a reheated Clancy/King slashfic out of five.  
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artemisegeria · 4 years
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The Picture of the Mind Revives Again (3/?)
Title: The Picture of the Mind Revives Again (3/?)
Rating: T
Word count: 1319
Warnings: None
Summary: Sequel to “A Formula, A Phrase Remains.” Title is from “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey” by William Wordsworth.
Vision has gone missing after Shuri, Bruce, and Helen revived him. Now they must tell Wanda what they did without her knowledge.
Chapter Summary: Vision explores more of the world and tries to get acclimated to the new time.
A/N: Wow, I can’t believe it’s been a little more than four months since I updated. Sorry. This one’s quite short, but I’ve been struggling with it since I posted the last chapter. We’re almost to 2020, and I’ve decided that my goal for the year is to just do things without agonizing over them so much. So hopefully the next chapter will be quicker. Enjoy!
 Vision watched the sun rise over the Italian countryside. He had been traveling around Europe for several weeks. He had been to Germany, Belgium, Romania, the Czech Republic, Denmark, and others, spending no more than a day or two, and sometimes only a few hours, in each location. A deep sense of restlessness filled him. He wanted to travel everywhere, but something kept him tethered to areas where the environment was at least partially familiar. He still determinedly avoided any place that had a connection to Wanda or the Avengers, but he did go to places that reminded him of them.
Tuscany was one such place. He and Wanda had discussed traveling there, but they had not made it before everything was destroyed. It was one of the most beautiful places he had visited. The warm golden stucco of most of the buildings matched the golden atmosphere. The warmth of the sun baked into the cobblestones. He knew that Wanda would love it. Vision thought of sending her a message telling her about it, but the whole point of the exercise he had undertaken was to have some space. So he maintained his silence.
That did not stop him from following the Avengers’ movements, though. Although their quarterly meetings were never publicized, New Yorkers noticed the influx of various air and space craft into the New York skyline. Paparazzi descended on the mansion in more force than usual, hoping for a glimpse of one of the more exotic members of the team.
He could not resist a glimpse of Wanda online, out for lunch with some of the women Avengers. She looked relaxed and happy. He was relieved to see her appearing in such good spirits. Vision considered doing some research to ascertain whom her companions were, to take part in her life somehow, but he decided to wait on that as well.
Vision needed more time. The world was strange. He had always considered humanity somewhat odd, but the stresses of all the recent calamities only highlighted that. The fear pushed humans to extremes. Vision did not want to leave himself open to such traps. Staying away was best for now.
***
A few weeks later, Vision was traveling through a French village when he saw a church filled to overflowing with people dressed in black. He ducked into a side street to change his attire and stood at the back of the crowd. The mourners were listening to eulogies delivered tearfully by an older woman and a young man.
He learned that Gabriel, the man who was being memorialized, had died in a simple car accident. Much of the grief was due to the fact that, after everything the world had suffered, they were still subject to random tragedies. Vision listened attentively to the mourners and absorbed their grief. He could not change what had happened, but he could bear witness.
After the funeral service and burial concluded, there was an open-air meal in the village’s main square. Vision was about to walk away when Gabriel’s fiancé and chief eulogizer called him over. He thanked Vision for attending. Later in the evening when Vision was helping to clean up the area; Gabriel’s mother and fiancé insisted that he stay the night. Vision obliged. He was honored by the hospitality when he did not know these people at all.
***
Vision cast his line into the water and relaxed in his rented boat in the south of Italy. He was not having any luck with catching fish. For some hours, he simply sat, enjoying the sunshine. Eventually he was approached by another boat. The fisherman told him that the area he had picked was bad for fish. They invited him to follow them.
He found their company extremely pleasant. One of the men, an older gentleman who was as skilled an interrogator as Natasha, drew out Vision’s whole plan for the next months and invited him back to his home when he heard that Vision was traveling alone without any sort of schedule. He was reluctant to accept at first, but the man insisted.
One night turned into five turned into three weeks. The Bianchis owned a farm. It was harvest season, and they could use all the extra hands they could find. Vision assisted in reaping the family’s wheat crop and repairing some of their older equipment.
During that time Vision perfected his conversational Italian. One night one of the family’s teenage daughters caught him staring mournfully up at the moon. Mariella asked him what was wrong. He found himself pouring out his and Wanda’s entire story, with certain identifying details edited out. It felt as if a great burden were lifted from him when he had finished. Mariella herself had started crying at his tale. She confessed that she was in love with the son of a rival farmer. Their families had been in bitter competition for years, and she did not know what to do. Vision wished her well, urging her not to give up on her love.
The harvesting finally drew to a close. The Bianchis invited him to stay longer in thanks for all his help, but he was ready to travel beyond this village. He was gratified by the party all the Bianchis and their neighbors held before his departure. The youngest children taught him a traditional folk dance. They were the delighted when he spun them around in the air. The requests for encores did not stop until the adults declared bedtime to a chorus of mutinous grumbling.
He bade farewell to the family laden with the food they insisted on giving him for his journey. He gave a last comforting word to Mariella and a few more twirls to the younger children before finally departing with many promises of keeping in touch and returning if he were ever in the area again.
***
When Vision finally moved on, he decided to leave Europe and travel farther afield. He started off in Morocco. Walking through the golden streets, he enjoyed seeing children playing soccer. He absorbed the colorful bazaars overflowing with unfamiliar leather goods, rugs, and foods. Though many people spoke English, Vision was grateful for his language capabilities when he journeyed into the countryside.
When he settled into a hotel room for the first night, he took the opportunity to catch up on news he had missed during the busy weeks of the harvest. Despite the difficulties of adjusting to this new world, he was somewhat reassured to find that human nature remained unchanged. There were the same sorrows and joys, petty squabbles and soaring ambition, innocence and wrath. It was only a different year.
The next morning he kept a corner of his attention on the local emergency signal, as usual. It was just turning seven o’clock when significant chatter burst across his senses. Vision gathered that there had been a collapse at nearby quarry. He immediately phased through the wall and lifted into the air. The workers who had escaped were desperately trying to lift the fallen stone from their comrades. Vision stepped in, assuring them that all would be well and requesting that they let him work.
He was met with suspicious stares, but when they saw Vision begin to lift the massive rock face with ease, they backed away. As soon as he had lifted the rock enough, the other workers rushed in to pull out the injured. Emergency vehicles had not yet arrived, so Vision triaged the fallen. One of the men’s legs had been badly crushed. Vision did what he could to stem the bleeding. The others were more fortunate. They only had symptoms of concussion and mild shock.
Vision fled as soon as the man he was treating was stabilized. He did not wish to answer any questions or face any undue speculation. He allowed himself to fade away into his incorporeal form.
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