#act 3 would have been too soon but season three would just be stringing us along

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 3

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

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

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

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

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Mia.

Mia, Mia, Mia. 

Oh she was lovely. You’d been chatting with her on Baekhyun’s phone for the better part of an hour and for a moment you forgot all about the man who now laid with his head on the other end of the sofa with his feet stretched over your lap and a phone held up to his face.

He was scrolling through something, giggling and typing. 

The phone you had down in your lap vibrated with another incoming message. 

Laughing emojis, a row of them. She was sharp. Wit and charm came through in her messages and you found yourself responding with an equally long string of laughing faces. The ones with tears leaking out their eyes. She felt so damn familiar and comfortable the moment you got past the awkward introductions and you really started talking to her; the jokes were easy and the topics were something you knew enough about to fake your way though thanks to Baekhyun’s many passions and his absolute inability to shut up about them. He’d held you hostage with so many video games and anime episodes, you knew exactly what she was talking about now. You felt like a complete pseudo pro. A well-read scammer. A faker but a weirdly genuine one. 

You went back to her profile and dragged each of her pictures across the screen with the tip of your finger, switching between them all. She was pretty. She was smart. She was interesting to talk to. She was perfect. Just perfect. A steady warmth had seeped into your chest as you looked at her. It was welcome and actually felt nice at first; if not a little bit unexpected. But the longer you looked at her smile, the more intrusive that warmth felt. After too long, it was sticky and almost too warm. You struggled to breathe deeply. You were breathing normally, there was absolute nothing off about your breathing, but each breath you took suddenly failed to satiate. Why were your lungs suddenly missing oxygen? They were misbehaving without any reason to. You closed out her pictures and returned to the chat window. 

She was asking about the latest episode of an anime. Something that was in its final season. Something you were sure Baekhyun would also be watching soon if he hadn’t seen it already. You could feel her excitement in her words. Something epic must have happened.

“Baek did you watch Attack on Colossatron last night — the latest episode?”

“Not yet—no spoilers, I’ll kill you.” His response was quick and you responded in a similar fashion in text to Mia; without the death threats. You weren’t quite that comfortable with her yet. 

Baekhyun shifted and moved a foot behind you, digging it under your butt into the gap of the couch cushion. You ignored the intrusion because you were talking to Mia. His soon to be brand new girlfriend by the looks of the conversation. You caught what you were certain was subtle flirting just below the contexts. Then outright flirting. She was sending you a picture from the dating profile you’d set up for Baekhyun. She had to have saved the picture to send it. It would now be saved on the camera roll of her phone where she would likely look at it again and again, admiring how good Baekhyun looked in it. 

She was commenting on how unexpectedly handsome you were and how most of the men who shared interests with her did not look like you. 

She was asking for a picture of you—err, of Baekhyun. She was having trouble believing such an attractive man like you was real and she actually used the word catfishing, careful to insist that she wasn't accusing you of anything; just that she was sure you looked just like some celebrity she saw on twitter and one couldn’t be too careful. 

But you were quick to cooperate and to agree with her need for assuredness. As a woman, yourself, you understood her suspicions instantly.  Yes, Baekhyun did look shockingly attractive in the profile pictures you posted of him. You could see how someone might doubt that he was real and he lived only 5 miles away and was now sweeping her off her feet with his engaging conversations and hilarious jokes. You’d be sure and make him thank you well for this later. 

The pictures of him were surprising, even to you, and you lived with the guy. You saw him every single day. Yet something about seeing him in these pictures, dressed in that black button up shirt and jeans and looking at the camera with a breathtaking natural smile; one he gave you so easily that night when you told him just how good he looked all dressed up. 

“Peanut, look at you! You look so fancy.” 

“Wow, I cant believe how handsome you are.” 

It only took a couple of sincere compliments for the man to unfold before you and the results on camera pulled you into an uncomfortable and unwelcome thoughtfulness when you looked at them alone later. Of course you knew he was handsome. You just hadn’t been prepared for how very attractive he would look on camera. 

You got all his best angles and the man had taken you off guard when you’d bravely asked him to give you a sexy look. 

It happened just at the end of your little makeshift photo-shoot. You were both a little tired, you could tell with the way he slowed down with his talking and his movements. You could always tell when Baekhyun was tired. Sometimes before even he knew it. 

The sun had gone down and you’d pulled him from your room into the living room where the lights from the city shone through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, creating a soft glow on his face. The moon was full outside. It was a chilly winter night and snowflakes drifted down to the street below. You were feeling perhaps a bit romantic. Perhaps you were a little bit grateful to be inside and warm and spending your time capturing the pretty face of your annoying best friend. 

You’d gotten a bit bold with the pictures and he’d been behaving so well, not even complaining when you asked him to lay down on the floor so you could capture the beautiful city-scape in the background of the shot. He’d gone still while you set up; moving furniture and turning on a lamp in the corner for more lighting on his features — you wondered briefly if maybe he had fallen asleep. 

You laid down beside him holding your camera up in the right spot to get something nice. His eyes had closed up and his breathing was even and slow and when you’d softly called his name with your camera acting as a barrier in between your faces, you’d expected it to act as more of a buffer than it did. 

“Baekhyun?”

When he heard you call him, his eyes opened and he turned his head toward the sound of your voice; the shift in his eyes was stark and breathtaking and he blinked them closed and then very slowly he opened his eyes again for you. 

“Hmm?” His lips stayed closed when he hummed a response.

What exactly were you going for here? The mood was set. The lighting and the scenery were in place. Hell, even the position of him was set —him laying beside you on the floor in the middle of the night like this when everyone knew it was much too late to be entertaining any of this nonsense. The longer you looked at him the more shades of pink you saw in his cheeks. The pinkness matched his lips and the lighting made every bit of warm flush on his face tell such a romantic story. He looked so very warm and inviting. 

You took a shot and you said it. If the picture came out well, that would be rewarding enough. 

But, you didn't actually expect a real sexy look. Not really. You’d expected something silly, or something goofy or something with an awkward smile. Maybe it was the nighttime, or the way he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and just let it hang open with the clear smoothness of his chest visible, but when he pulled his chin down and ran a hand through his styled hair, bringing it down just a little bit; giving it a messy and tousled look, you had to grip the camera tighter to keep from doing something dumb like accidentally dropping it. You could not understand the flash of nervousness you felt run through you. 

He lifted a single eyebrow. You had called him and it was clear from the inactivity in the camera that you weren’t taking any pictures of him. 

“Hmm?” He repeated the hum that came from the back of his throat. His eyebrow danced and it was the only movement on his face.

You inhaled a breath and you did it.

“You look incredibly sexy right now.” 

Despite the camera, despite the props you’d placed around him just so, his eyes seemed to seek out yours with purpose; one hand on the floor was within touching distance and the other hand rested over his forehead from when he’d ran it through his hair, the tips of his fingers landed over one of his eyes and it was so perfect. You felt goosebumps all over your skin.  

The moment his eyes locked into yours you gripped the camera as if your life depended on it. When his lips slowly parted with a gentle exhale and the tip of his tongue appeared between his parted lips and slowly touched against the corner of his bottom lip a surge of heat rose up the back of your throat. 

“I do?” He said with his eyes on yours as if he was looking directly at you; as if the camera did not even exist. 

You hit the button and you heard the shutter click. 

You allowed yourself a moment to look at the picture Mia had sent you. Only a moment though because she was talking again. She was instructing you to send a new picture right now, with your left hand holding your right earlobe. It was the kind of specific sort of picture that would prove that you really did exist. 

“Peanut,” you reached down and tapped his leg three times quickly, “Peanut, our new girlfriend wants a picture of you right now with your,” you held up your hands in front of your face, figuring out which was the left one, “left hand holding your right earlobe.” You held up your left hand for him to see and he pulled the phone down from his face to look at you. After a second his opposite hand was raised and he gripped his earlobe with his fingertips. 

“Is that your left hand?” You raised your left hand higher and lifted your eyebrows as you shook your head once. You felt a sense of urgency in getting this picture to Mia as fast as possible to calm her doubts. 

“It’s my left. My left is your right, stupid. Why do I have to do this?” 

You snapped the picture close enough that it would look like a selfie and sent the image to Mia. She was satisfied enough to send an emoji with heart eyes and you could feel victory at your fingertips. You could hardly believe this was working. 

“She thought you weren’t real.” You said in between messages and Baekhyun’s leg was shaking behind your back. He’d been sitting still for too long here and the nervous energy was building, you could feel it trying to escape from his limbs. He probably needed to go for a run or something or you were in for a long and noisy night of singing or dancing or whatever other shenanigans he thought you needed to suffer though. He hummed a non-response to your answer, clearly so distracted by what was happening on his screen that he couldn’t be bothered to give you any more of his attention right now. 

Baekhyun was not so quietly giggling under his breath and you looked up caught by that very particular sound of it. Something felt familiar in the sound of that giggle; more, the intentions behind it. The particular sneakiness of it maybe made you look up and it took you another second of listening to the way he stifled himself, tried to control the sounds of his laughter before a realization dawned and recognition struck you on the head. 

Baekhyun couldn’t have been giggling, laughing, texting, having a grand ol’ time on his phone because you had his phone in your hands. You had been talking to Mia for a whole damn hour, who in the hell was Baekhyun talking to and was that your phone he was using? 

“Baekhyun who are you talking to on my phone?”

His stomach bounced with stifled laugher below his shirt and he was typing again. His eyes secured on the screen of your phone and not at all looking at you. 

“Baek, who is that. What are you doing?” It wasn’t that you didn't trust him with your private conversations. He knew more about you than probably any other human being on the planet. It wasn't the problem with him knowing it. The problem was with that laughter. The problem was with what Byun Baekhyun might do with all of the things he knew about you and with whoever the hell had the misfortune of texting you at the exact moment when he had your phone.

“Ben,” Baekhyun said after a long pause and you searched through your recent memory for a person who had that name. You’d matched with some guys last week but you were certain there was no one with that name. 

“Ben? Who the hell is Ben? I don't know a Ben” You were leaning now and Baekhyun bent his legs up as soon as you moved, blocking your lean with his knobby knees. You leaned on the other side of them and he moved them to block again. 

The maneuver brought out the panic in you. He was blocking you from your own phone. He was up to something and he was now blocking you from reaching for your phone and you had just nearly murdered him in the kitchen over cheese, did he really want to do this again? 

“Give me my phone. Baek, who the shit is Ben?”

“I don't know. Some guy named Ben. Said he was some lady’s nephew or cousin or something. He knew your number and he knew your name, and wow he is—”

Oh god. Your co-worker Susie had done it. The son-of-a-bitch had actually given your phone number out this time even though you had successfully, you’d thought, dodged their high pressure tactics to set you up with some eligible bachelor who would probably be 10 years too old for you, balding, with bad teeth, or bad habits, or would be obsessed with his car or his muscles or some sports team and you’d have to make nice small talk with someone who’s interests, frankly, bored you to death until you could politely let the man down. 

And now, what was Baekhyun telling him? What kinds of horrific lies was this little gremlin giggling about over there. You tilted and reached for him again and he moved his knees again. 

“Bug, how- how do you spell hemorrhoids? Hem—hem—er—roids, no that’s not right. Let me look it up. It’s important that I represent you well. A strong, intelligent woman who can talk about her hemorrhoids.” 

You leaped then, over the stupid knees you flew and you landed hard — seated across his belly and the pained grunt he let out was satisfying to hear. He doubled up in pain while simultaneously shoving your phone underneath himself into the softness of the couch cushions and you watched it disappear somewhere below his butt where he assumed you would not dare to reach. 

“Baekhyun,” you said in as calm a voice as you could pry from your lips. Your teeth gritted together as you spoke and much of the sweetness was lost in the delivery.

Your hands were feeling the softness of the cushions that he laid on. You followed an arm that went down and disappeared behind his back and your fingers traveled to the end where you felt no phone at all, only his empty hand that you pulled up. You did the same on the other side, moving to the other hand and bringing it back empty too. On his face he wore a smug, self-satisfied smile. 

“Peanut,” your next attempt at a compromise pulled his name out in a sweeter tone and his lips turned up into a mischievous grin with teeth bared and all. To your own ears though, you really laid it on thick. This was your darling Peanut. You let your whine come through and you pulled your lips into a pouty frown.

“Bug,” he said, mimicking your overly saccharine tone with a tiny lift of an eyebrow on his face and a fake frown that didn’t touch the rabid joy in his eyes.

“Give me back my phone,” you said and your hands dug into his ribs hard as he reached for your wrists and quickly grabbed to hold you still with both of his free hands before you could do any actual damage to him. 

You struggled against his strong hands, reaching with out-stretched fingers despite his hold on you for a few more tickles before he tightened the grip and you could not connect any more attacks. 

“Give me back my phone,” he giggled back, again mocking your ineffective attempts to overpower him. You simply couldn’t do it. He was much stronger than you were.  

The childishness of this brat! You closed your eyes up tight as you forced yourself to take a deep calming breath. You could feel close to the edge again. Close to losing control. How many murder attempts did you need to commit today? Maybe you needed to enroll in anger management classes. You tried to count to ten again but gave up halfway through to threaten him again. 

“I’m going to get mad, give me my phone.” The friendly tone you had forced was gone and you could hear the actual anger in your voice now. Any reasonable person would concede. Any normal human adult would laugh it off playfully, say ‘okay, okay, I was only kidding’ and hand the thing over. A normal person would even apologize for taking it in the first place. 

Baekhyun was not a normal person.

“Ohhh, I’m going to get mad,” you heard him say in that same mocking voice and no amount of calming breaths could touch it. You could count to ten thousand and still want to destroy him. You squirmed all over and pulled at your wrists that he held in his grip and his hold tightened the more you moved until you could only lean, you could only fight back with one thing. The more you fought him, the tighter his muscles constricted and it became evident that you simply could not win this way. Your hands were useless to you. Only your head was free. You’d have to use it to your advantage, but how? 

You could headbutt him; break his nose. Break your head. Make both of you take a trip to the hospital during a global pandemic. Catch the dreaded disease. Lose your sense of taste and smell and potentially infect someone vulnerable that you loved. 

He was like a cat. Only interested in playing with something until it was dead and then losing interest after he couldn’t torture it anymore. You couldn't simply play dead. He had you trapped and you needed that phone back. 

You could bite him. Break the skin. Mean business for real. Make him bleed and make him cry. Make him pay for all of it. Give him a nasty scar on his hand, or on his neck or on his chest, maybe rip off his earlobe like Tyson did to Holyfield. Send him to the hospital during a global pandemic. Go to prison for assault charges. Get a nasty infection from a prison tattoo. Die.

Your struggle for a plan made you go physically still and you looked at his face; into his eyes and in those eyes sat all the usual bullshit and toddler behavior that you usually saw when he had latched on to something to tease you with, something he could play with and have fun with at your expense. Something he could exploit. 

You could use your mouth. 

You could use your lips.

You could use your tongue. 

What is this? Some sort of trashy rom-com? Would you really stoop so low, so early in the story? Kiss him to distract him, become a walking, talking, kissing cliché and an unoriginal failure of a human being? Get scolded and told to leave his home. Become homeless during a global pandemic. Without high speed internet access, lose your easy breezy data entry job. Get hungry and get cold. Possibly end up selling a kidney on the black market to make ends meet. Get a nasty infection from the shady surgery. Die. 

No. This wasn’t a cheesy romance story. This was your life. You’d have to live with the consequences of your choices and there was no way you would steal his first kiss just to get petty revenge.

This wasn’t enemies-to-lovers, this a violent revenge plot and you were pissed off god-dammit. How dare this idiot get you into such a compromising, such an undignified, such a frustratingly suggestive position and hold you captive like this. 

How dare he still be smiling through your entire inner monologue?

Didn't he know anything at all about women and the powers they possessed in their bodies? 

He flinched visibly when you dropped down; lowered your chest to his chest and you were face to face with the man. Your quick movement startled him and he loosened the grip around your wrists enough for you to rotate them before he tightened his hold again and watched you with wide eyes. That grin finally, finally fell from his mouth. His lips sat down-turned and pink. He’d gone positively pink with your quick movement. Your plan to move into him instead of struggling to get away clearly startled him. You felt the advantage at once. 

When you moved again it was only your eyeballs and it was to look pointedly at his lips before you pulled your eyes back up to look into his eyes. The slow movement made a bold statement, even to someone as clueless as he was. You were on top of him. He could most definitely feel the entirety of your weight on his body and your breasts were flush against his chest. And now, you had just looked down at his pink lips. 

Whatever steady and in-control breathing he had, stuttered and his body below yours went rigid with his eyes wide; obviously unsure of what you were about to do and much too on edge to take his eyes off of you. 

What became clear as you stared at his flushed face up close was that he had not thought this far ahead in his plan.

He probably didn't even have one to begin with. 

You moved closer to him and his hands released their hold on you again. You heard a gasp for air when his hand let go. You weren’t convinced he let go on purpose. There seemed to be a disconnected look inside his eyes right now. 

Instead of going straight for his earlobe and squeezing the shit out of it to teach him a lesson, you kept this going. You could not help it. You felt drunk on your own power and you didn't actually want to hurt him. You just wanted the damn phone so you could see what damage he had already done and begin cleaning up the messes. 

He swallowed and his lips opened to speak.

“W-What are you doing?” 

Nervous and trembling and uncertain; oh he was all of the above. Your free hand was moving now, traveling down the length of his arm to his flank when he moved again, this move felt much more frantic than the last. He grabbed your wrist more gently than before when you got close enough to touch him and he pulled your hand back. A feeble attempt it seemed, made by a man who had just come to his senses again after being in a daze. 

You leaned in. “Peanut,” you said directly into the space below his ear. You could smell him here. He smelled nice. Clean, and vaguely familiar. You remembered your shampoo that he still had and made a mental note to get it back from him. The scent of it on him was different than on you. The breath you took at his neck definitely smelled different. 

He was frozen stiff and when you pulled up to look at his face, his eyes were closed. He swallowed again and you reveled in the realization that you had not heard a single peep out of him since you began your counter-attack. Not a giggle, not a mocking laugh. Not a silly impression of what your voice sounded like to him. He was as quiet as a mouse. It paid to be pro-active. You felt free, as if you’d just been armed with some new very effective weapon that you had no idea would work so well. 

He had your hand again and was pulling — keeping you from reaching below his body to reach where you were certain your phone was stashed. Right here below his left butt cheek. Maybe even inside his back pocket. Either way it was there and you were centimeters away from it. 

So you went in again. This time it was a whisper. This time you went too far. You felt the softness of his neck brush against your bottom lip.

“Give it to me, while I am still being nice.” 

It was the exhale from your lips after you spoke that seemed to do it. The puff of air from your parted lips that drifted over his ear and warmed his neck, you felt him squirm below you and his hands moved releasing you all over and all at once. 

He was going now. He was leaving. You felt it happening below you. 

It was a tactic you’d used before when he tried to grab a hold of you and throw you onto your bed, or when he tried to wrestle something away from you in the kitchen. 

He went boneless. When you did it he would shout and laugh and lose his grip on you and you’d use the distraction to drop to the floor and roll out of his grip in one motion. It was much more difficult for him to do right now, being directly under you on the couch like this, but somehow he was vanishing fast. 

He moved so quickly it was like he melted from beneath you and he was pushing you off at the same time as he rolled, simply rolled from the sofa down onto the floor below in a single motion of retreat. 

You know that was where he went because you heard the rough thump of his body hitting the floor hard and you heard the grunt as he vocalized the pain of gravity having it’s final say. You were pushed with a force that made you roll onto your butt and below your legs you felt the rectangle of plastic and glass of your cell phone. 

He was moving fast. But he was also talking as he did it. 

“You are mean,” was what he said and he was halfway through the living room by the time you registered his complaint. 

Something about his fit irked you though. Was it such a big deal — so out of the question? Did he hate the idea of you kissing him, even if on accident that he had to overreact like this. 

“Oh settle down, It’s not like I was going to actually kiss you, Baekhyun.”

You’d expected to hear his bedroom door slam shut but he’d stopped with his hand on his door and turned his face in your direction. His expression was odd. 

Baekhyun was rarely upset with you, so you had very little experience with what he looked like when he was. He had been upset with others around you, but it wasn’t ever directed at you.

“I know you weren’t.” 

You could see it from where you sat and it made you stand up. Wait, was he really upset? At you? Because you pretended like you were going to steal his first kiss? Because you took something so precious to him and weaponized it against him? 

He was breathing hard and you took a step in his direction. 

“Baek, I was just—” 

“—trying to get your phone, I know.” His voice was cold and his words were short.

You suddenly felt like absolute shit. It moved fast and it overwhelmed you. You’d made a mistake and Baekhyun was upset at you. You’d acted carelessly and thoughtlessly and you’d hurt him. 

“We...we were playing around, I was just playing around, I didn’t mean it, Peanut. I’m sorry.” You could not help the thickness in your voice. You could not help how your voice cracked as you spoke up quickly, needing to get the apology out into the air before he could misunderstand any further. 

Before he could wake up and realize how low of a person you could be when you really set your mind to it. Before he could understand that maybe you didn't deserve so many chances to get your life together and get a better job, or be a better roommate, or make more money and pay more rent, or delete your facebook, or create better passwords. 

You realized you were crying when the wetness dripped down your chin and landed on your arm and as soon as you noticed you lifted both of your hands up to cover your face — before he saw, before he noticed or heard. You held your breath to keep from hiccupping or making any sort of sound at all and you closed your eyes and tried to stop the quiet gasps. 

You succeeded for the most part. 

It was the smell of him though. You did not notice that he moved, but you smelled him again, only this time it came with a warmth that enveloped you where you stood.  

“I’m not mad at you,” he whispered over your head and you inhaled through the snot that filled your nose, unable to get any air through. You gasped through your mouth instead and hiccupped through the breath. 

“You seemed mad at me,” you said into his shirt, the same shirt you’d cried into hours ago. This shirt would have so much of your messes on it by the end of the day. What in the world had gotten into you today? Maybe you were going to start your period soon. This was getting ridiculous. 

His hands rubbed slow and steady circles over your back and until the gasping stopped enough for you to lift your head and look into his face. 

“I’m not,” he said with more conviction the second time and you almost believed it. Had it not been for the strange way his eyes dropped yours so easily you would have. 

You didn't say that though. 

His lips parted once and his eyes grasped yours in that flimsy way again and his lips closed up again as he swallowed it away and didn’t say what he was about to say. 

You shook your head. He had to tell you. Whatever it was, you could work on it, do some self reflecting, or read some self help books. 

“What is it? Tell me.” Your insistence was desperate and his damn eyes refused to stick. It was making you crazy the more you noticed it. 

His mouth opened again and this time he inhaled deep enough to speak for hours and hours. 

“Peanut, what?” 

“Don't—” he began and you closed your mouth and looked into his face, dipping to catch them when his eyes dropped again and again. He noticed the dance you did and you saw the light dance inside his eyes. 

“Don't what? I’ll do it. Or I won’t do it. Whatever, just tell me.” If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking to this man. You could always pull it out. Whatever he had been sitting on, keeping from you, whatever he had deep down inside that was begging to be let out. You could talk to him. He could talk to you. It’s as part of the magic you shared with him. 

“Peanut,” you said again, refusing to let him close up again, refusing to let this go. He had to say his piece for the upset to move behind you both, so you could get past it. 

“Don't use your beauty as a weapon against me.” 

As soon as the words left so did his eyes, but that did not matter because you could not look into his face anymore after he said it either. 

Your…beauty?

Baekhyun didn’t look at you and see beauty. Impossible. You were a mess. Some days you showered. Some days you did your hair. These two events rarely happened on the same day. 

Outside you could pull off some-what put-together and even downright attractive when you wore the miracle bust enhancing bra you bought off some shady website he definitely told you not to enter any credit card info into, but inside you felt like a circus clown wearing a respectable young woman suit. Every day you worked to stuff the oversized shoes into your feet and struggled to zip them up. Every day you painted over your honking red nose with concealer in the hopes that it wouldn’t rain today and give you away. 

“It’s really shitty and really unfair to do to me.” He kept talking and you felt like maybe the ceiling had caved in on you. “I know who I am. I know my place and I know what league I am in.”

He said the word league with a whisper and you stared at his mouth as he spoke such nonsense words you hardly had any thoughts that made any sense inside of your own head. 

League? He was such an amazing person, but league? You’d heard some serious bullshit come out of his mouth in the past, but this? Seriously? 

He was a genius. He was beautiful inside and out and he was such a good person, a good person to you, a good person to his grandmother, a good person to his online friends. He was so good at whatever he wanted to do and he was really fucking sweet when he wasn’t being ridiculous. And even when he was being ridiculous it was so funny you usually didn't mind the ear deafening noise involved. He was a great dancer and an even better singer and he had so much to offer. 

He was shy. He was terribly embarrassed and debilitatingly nervous at the mere idea of talking to any other girl that wasn’t you and he took a whole lot of warming up to until he opened up to you even, but when he finally did, after tiptoeing around him for 4 months after you’d moved in and he finally grabbed a bowl of popcorn and sat beside you on the couch to watch lifetime movies with you, making fun of the writing and the acting the entire time until he was making fun of you for crying at the happy ending. 

He was reliable too. He refused to even entertain the idea of you moving out just because you could no longer afford the previously agreed upon rent after you lost your job. He searched for something to hold you over until you could get back on your feet and while the data entry thing was mind numbing, it was genuinely saving your life most days. You could at least pay your bills. You could at least force him to accept the much lower rent you started paying him again after you got your first paycheck. 

Oh god. League? 

You could feel it building again. The burning in your eyes peaked and you felt your face frowning down dramatically and the tears were flowing more freely than before. 

“You’re such an idiot.” You cried openly and his face changed at once into one of extreme concern. His hands waved over you uselessly, occasionally connecting to pat over your back in some attempt to stop this. 

“You are such a catch, you stupid idiot!” You were wailing very loudly. You could not help it. He was such an idiot. And he was such a catch. 

“Oh my god, are you yelling at me right now? After everything you’ve done to me today, now you are yelling at me and calling me names. Great. Just Great. Here, my face doesn’t hurt, why don't you punch me in the face too.” 

The sarcasm made you half laugh half choke in the middle of a particularly strong sob and you coughed with your mouth open to be able to breathe. Your nose was still useless. 

“Jesus,” he said to himself, “my mouth was open.” 

You were being steered. Your eyes were still closed and you were pushed now. You didn't really want to move but your stubborn legs saved you by taking a step instead of letting you fall flat on your face. You opened your eyes when you felt a fresh cold breeze against the wet surface of your cheeks and you saw in front of you the contents of the freezer. 

There were some frozen veggies. Some ice in a bin. Something meat-like in a freezer bag. And about six different boxes of various ice creams. Most of them chocolate. 

“Get one,” he said and his hand was pushing your elbow up and steering your hand toward the open box of chocolate popsicles. 

You grabbed with your open hand and he pulled your elbow back like you were a claw machine and he was working the lever. 

You grasped the popsicle between both of your hands with a small smile building against your will. 

“Eat it,” he said from behind your head and you were already ripping at the plastic wrapper. You didn’t even have a chance to throw away the wrapper when his hand was pushing at your elbow again. It bent upward and the chocolate plopped right into your open mouth. 

“Bite,” he said. 

You bit. He didn't have to tell you to chew and swallow. You knew how to do the rest. 

After the ice cream you were seated on the sofa next to him and he pulled out a portable game system to keep him entertained while he pressed play on the movie he’d put on the big tv on the wall. 

It was Bridget Jones's Diary. You had seen it enough times to know the entire movie by heart and still, still you laughed at every joke, swooned at every steamy look, and squealed like a piglet at every kiss scene. It literally did not get old. You could fall asleep and wake up watching this movie for the rest of your life and be as happy as ever. 

After he’d felt you’d been babied enough for him to trust you not to dissolve into a fit of disaster without him, he left you alone to finish your movie. He said something about a bug he was working on fixing and you could hear him working from behind his closed door in his room. 

He had been quiet as he worked. He usually was, save for the occasional song he sang along to, or work sounding phone call he took. 

The credits were rolling on your happy ending and you could feel the beginnings of the first few period cramps twinging inside of your abdomen. 

Everything made sense now, as it usually did whenever your period began. 

You’d just stood to head toward the kitchen for some pain medicine when Baekhyun’s bedroom door was abruptly pulled open.  

He bolted through the doorway and his phone was in his hands, his eyes were wide. Panic was written all over his face as he searched the room for you and finally made eye contact with you in the kitchen. 

You had a bottle of pain reliever in one hand and another popsicle in your other and you were trying to figure out the logistics of getting the bottle of medicine open without having to put the sticky melty treat down anywhere and things weren’t going so well. Things were getting drippy. 

Baekhyun arrived then and you beamed a wide and genuinely happy to see him smile. He would help you. He would open the pills. He would stuff you full of them to stop the pain. 

At this point you didn't even care how many. You’d take however many the Gods decided to shake free from their plastic prison. 

“Help,” he said, walking by the medicine you held out to him with his phone displayed in his hands. “Help me, she...our girlfriend, Maya, she—”

You gasped at his mispronunciation and you lifted your popsicle hand toward his face as you made the sounds with your mouth, “Mia. Like Mee-uh.”

“Mia, Maya, Moira, She is — she is talking to me.” His eyes were wide and they were crazed. 

“She’s saying things and she’s really fucking smart and clever and she’s saying things to me, Bug. She’s, oh god, -the fuck didn't you tell me she was cute. Fuck. You have to help me. She thinks I’m cute too. Oh God. What do I do? What’s next?”

He was breathless when he was done and both of your hands were still full. Your popsicle was beginning to drip down your wrist. You would have to clean it up before you got ants. You still had some medicine to take too. 

He was pacing. He thought she was cute too, it wasn’t just you who thought so. He said it himself. Although he reacted this way with nearly every girl you had seen him interact with. Hell, just last week he made you answer the door for the delivery chicken because the girl was cute and he wasn’t about to scribble his signature all over her hand by accident. 

“Baekhyun, I already laid the groundwork for you.” Maybe the day was finally catching up to you but you felt suddenly very tired and in no mood to play make-believe with him right now. 

“What does that mean?” His face betrayed his utter cluelessness and you sighed deeply, feeling much of the same melancholy mood return to you despite the chocolate and your favorite movie still fresh on your tongue. “What does that mean? I don't know what to do. You were going to help me.” 

He was right. You shouldn’t just abandon a friend in need like you’d abandoned the popsicle in the trash can just now. 

��You have a new episode of your show to watch. She also likes that show. Why don't you stream it together?” 

His eyes lit up and his smile was wide and beautiful. Then he was spinning on his heels without even so much as a glance back. He typed into his phone and had nearly reached the door of his bedroom without even acknowledging your help when at the last minute you caught the look he shot you. It was a bright smile. He was excited and his smile reached his eyes. 

“She said yes,” he said, “thanks, Bug.”

His door closed and you reached for the bottle of pills. Grabbing just two today, you downed them quickly and retreated to your room with a gloomy, lonely, little storm cloud floating stubbornly over your head. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff​​  @byunbabybaek​​  @beg0neth0t420

#Baekhyun #Baekhyun fic #exo #exo fic #baekhyun series #exo series #baekyun au #exo au #baekhyun exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun fiction #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun ff #baekhyun fanfiction

[lansyuan]

do you love fics where wei wuxian and lan wangji parent the crap out of lan sizhui? do you want to read accidental baby acquisition fics until your eyes bleed? would you die as your heart slowly turns to mush from the softness of this family? bitch the fuck, me too. here are some of my personal favourite fics of wangxian ft their turnip son a-yuan. its a range of canon divergence, post canon, thirteen years of inquiry, raising a-yuan at the burial mounds au etc - there’ll be something for literally everyone. enjoy!

the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (38k+)

When A-Yuan gets sick and Wen Qing doesn't have the supplies she needs to properly treat him, Wei Wuxian can only think of one place to go for help. 

a crying shame by thunderwear (16k+)

Lan Wangji gets emotionally blackmailed by a toddler. It somehow fixes everything.

to recollect and long for by wonderlands (22k+) *2/3 works posted at time of posting this rec list.

a 3-part series about best boy lan sizhui and his wonderful dads who love him and each other very much.

forgetting envies, remembering your loving hold by cosmicfuss (3k+)

The first time Zewu-jun plays for him he is five and the man is trying to comfort him, playing soft songs good for soothing children. It works to a degree but he wants his gege, he wants his gege to play his lullaby. Zewu-jun apologizes and tells him that his gege is hurting right now, and needs to be alone to get better.

When he plays the xiao, A-Yuan says, "you're holding it wrong!" When he turns fourteen, he learns to play guqin, and is many years ahead of his classmates in that regard. A large factor in that is how much he has practiced Inquiry. He has grown up hearing snippets from the jingshi, of Wangji attempting to reach a spirit that never answers.

When he's sixteen, he hears a familiar tune played in the forest, he and his fellow juniors battling a stone god. It's been years since he's heard it, and he wonders why this man, Mo Xuanyu, knows it so well.

Or, Lan Sizhui grows up and learns, and remembers.

five times wei wuxian tried to embarrass lan sizhui by blackelement7 (6k+)

(and one time he realized just how badly he'd played himself)

or: In which Wei Wuxian starts a fight but Lan Sizhui (with some meddling from Lan Jingyi) ends it.

inquiry by incendir (10k+)

Sizhui cannot fall asleep for a long, long time that night. He hears the ever-familiar melody again. He thinks perhaps he has memorized it by now.

storge by respira (9k+)

Lan Sizhui is a lake.

as the warren grows in number by kore_fics (3k+)

Before Sizhui could take another step he was surrounded by black and red, loud laughter in his ears and warm fingers running through his hair, messing it up. Palms squished both his cheeks together and Lan Sizhui let out a laugh.

Lan Sizhui was home.

tell some storm* by qurbat (31k+) *the moments with Sizhui are in chapter 2, however I highly recommend reading the whole fic, it’s adorable.

"We were raised as a generation of war, A-Yuan," Xian-gege said to him. "If your generation choses to be one of love - well, I don't think any of us would be opposed to that."

In the aftermath of the events at the Guanyin temple, the cultivation world scrambles to understand their current reality. A man roams the countryside with a string of white in his hair. Another sits on the highest seat of power with a ribbon of red around his forehead. The younger generation turns out to be full of romantics. Nie Huaisang is to blame for everything, always. Jiang Cheng realizes that happiness has been more that 16 years overdue.

Wei Wuxian declares that it's time that bitch pays up.

After a generation of war - much to the consternation of the elders, much to the delight of the young, much to the pleased shock of the subjects of the tale - the world welcomes a love story with open arms.

guess we're not eating leaves today by missingnarwhal (2k+)

Baby A-Yuan has cooked up a feast, but only one lucky gege will actually get to taste it!

Set in an alternate timeline where everything is okay after Wei Ying + Wens started living in the Burial Mounds.

response by aki_no_hikari (12k+)

What if Wei Wuxian hadn't been silent to Lan Wangji's Inquiry?

love, in all its small pieces by ynvel (4k+)

Ah Yuan is brought to the Cloud Recesses and exchanges the sun and its ashes for the clouds. Lan Wangji brings a boy home, calls him his son, and renews the promises he made.

Or: Lan Sizhui is adopted by Lan Wangji and learns about his new life. Lan Wangji in turn learns about hope and living again.

child surprise by ariaste (4k+)

He huffs a sigh. “Fine. Just - let’s just make it the law of surprise, shall we? That’s nice and simple, eh? Leave it up to destiny what will bring us back in balance. Let it drop something of yours into my lap, something small, and we’ll call the debt paid.”

Three debts, three repayments.

there's a lunatic in mo village by bastetcg (11k+)

There's a lunatic in Mo Village! And to Lan Sizhui's surprise, Hanguang-Jun has decided to bring the madman back to the Cloud Recesses! How embarrassing!

A mostly canon-compliant look into Lan Sizhui's thoughts and childhood.

on being a big boy by emberloey (1k+)

“My little A-Yuan,” Dad had said the next morning, kneeling down to A-Yuan’s height with a smile, “all grown up now. Soon you’ll be hunting without your poor old dads.”

“Never!” A-Yuan shook his head and latched onto Father’s leg. He smiled up at Father, who smiled back and nodded his head. “A-Yuan always needs Dad and Father!”

in all these shades of blue (i think we found you) by fleetling (5k+)

5 times Sizhui thought about his father's white robes, and 1 time Lan Wangji wore blue.

(Or: Lan Sizhui had never seen his father in anything other than white robes.)

this is when the feeling sinks in, i don't want to miss you like this (come back, be here) by mischievousmurmurs (6k+)

Just now… the butterflies’ conversation. Where did you learn that from, Ah-Yuan?

Ah-Yuan pats his chest. In here, shushu. I feel it in here. And in here, too, he adds, pointing to his head.

Sizhui has never quite been able to remember nor forget the memory of seeing people who he knows loved each other, loved him, and whom he loved in return.

or - a wangxian story, as told by their adopted son.

yours, mine, and ours by casecous (2k+)

When they have both mostly recovered, and A-Yuan is back to his smiling, playful self, Lan Wangji presents him with a forehead ribbon. A-Yuan’s little fingers bump into Lan Wangji’s thumbs as he traces the cloud motif along it.

“You are Lan now. This is very important,” Lan Wangji tells him and A-Yuan looks away from the ribbon to meet his eyes. “You must not take it off as you please. Only family may touch it.”

A series of wangxian family moments.

innocence by snowberryrose (8k+)

In which Wei WuXian gets to raise A-Yuan.

Canon divergence from episode 31.

to recollect and long for by mme_anxious (4k+)

Lan Xichen is there when his brother becomes a father. Lan Sizhui is there when his father's heart breaks, again. Wei Wuxian is there when his son gets drunk for the first time.

Or, the GusuLan forehead ribbon, in three parts.

our little one by writedeku (6k+)

A-Yuan is here. A-Yuan, who Wei Ying loved so much. A-Yuan, who was taught to laugh just like him. Wangji hugs him to his chest and curls over him, ignoring the way the wounds on his back pull and tear. “I have to take care of you,” he says. “I will not leave you.”

(Or: Lan Wangji comes back from Yiling with a child he does not know how to care for and a black hole in his chest. Somehow, he makes it work.)

gathered herbs & sweet grasses by hansbekhart (19k+)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

the sacred homeland by particulate (8k+)

He has many names, and some are mouthfuls of blood.

[Or; a chronology of Sizhui, in which he does not forget.]

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (19k+)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

when he comes home to you by kika988 (2k+)

Home is Cloud Recesses now, and that's a thing Wei Wuxian is still getting used to. He still feels like a guest here, most days, though Lan Wangji has done everything to make him feel at home. He stands out like a sore thumb amongst the serene disciples and flowing white fabric.

Cloud Recesses has been home to Lan Wangji and Sizhui for years. It is their home, where they've built their family.

The thought warms Wei Wuxian even as it sits a little ill with him. He's an intruder here, in their homes, in their lives, the same way he had been in Lotus Pier.

five times people didn’t know sizhui is lan zhan’s son and one time they did by trilliastra (3k+)

“A-Yuan.” He repeats, reaching out for the boy, growing restless when he can’t touch him. “A-Yuan.”

Oh. Lan Xichen closes his eyes as the tears start to fall. Oh, Wangji.

Carefully, Lan Xichen takes the boy and lays him next to his brother on the bed, Wangji holds him protectively against his chest and A-Yuan stops his little cries immediately.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen tries again, running a hand through his brother’s hair softly, “who is he?”

“He’s my son.”

5 times the lan head disciple broke the rules by liji (6k+)

“I am not aware of any rule forbidding falling in love,” Hanguang-Jun said at last. There was a quiet sadness in his eye, like he was watching a scene from far away. The novelty of it gave Sizhui the courage to ask his next question.

“Have you ever been in love, Father?” he asked.

(or, five times that Sizhui broke the Lan sect's rules growing up)

the seasons change (but i love you the same) by kdkdkd (7k+)

"Hanguang-jun!"

When did you stop calling me Bàba, A-Yuan?

Lan Wangji had always promised himself that he would never become a poor father like his own had been.

Unfortunately, it feels like he has failed to keep that promise.

✨ bonus round ✨ uncle jiang cheng and nephew lan sizhui

tintinnabulum by respira (8k+)

A small bell chimes, the sound soft and pleasant like the water crashing against a pier, like low whistles in an empty cave, like a guqin playing a lullaby.

#the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #lan yuan #wen yuan #wangxian family #wangxian fic rec #myficrecs #creations #listen i just really love this family #1k

[moonbeamsung]

Winter Nights & City Lights

Because nothing says ‘Christmas’ like spending the big day (and not to mention the whole holiday season) in the Big Apple living with your high school friend-turned-roommate, Mark Lee.

member: mark (featuring johnny)

au: roommate!mark x gn!reader, college roommate au, christmas au, ‘the gift of the magi’ au/inspired

word count: 9.5k

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

warnings: profanity, underage drinking, hangovers, insecurities, mentions of food and drink, money issues, embarrassing moments

author’s note: This fic is close to becoming my favorite that I’ve ever written. It’s also almost twice as long as I planned, not to mention that tumblr crashed right as I tried to post it so here I am, two hours later. Overall I had a blast writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, too! :,) Happy holidays! <3

taglist: @astroboy-lele​ @kisshim​ @radiorenjun​

network tags: @kpopscape​ @neo-constellations​ @starryktown​ @culture-cafe​ @dreamlab-nct​

“That parade was so cool! I mean, did you see the size of all those balloons? They were huge! I’ve never seen so many people all in one place before,” Mark chatters away like an excited child as you navigate through the crowd that always seems to grow bigger year after year, gathered along the curbs of the New York streets to watch the famed Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“How are you not more excited about this?” He questions, and you stifle an amused giggle. “I’ve lived in the city for over a year, Mark. I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” The cold air only accentuates the blush on his face as he remembers that particular detail about you. It isn’t often that it’s demonstrated, however, considering you spend so much time cooped up inside of your shared apartment cramming in university work and studying. There are hardly any opportunities during the year to take in the sights of the concrete jungle you live in the very heart of, but luckily, one of your long-awaited breaks is coming up soon.

Thoughts of Christmas vacation are the only things keeping you going, along with countless cups of steaming hot coffee, as you prepare for exams in just a few weeks, weeks that seem to go by in a flurry of snow.

There’s less than three days left until your first one, but you’re nothing short of drained after pulling so many all-nighters, and you need a break. A breath of fresh air seems like just the cure for your burnout, so you slam your textbook shut and lethargically drag yourself off of the soft comforter you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You grimace at the deep imprint left behind.

Trudging through the living area, you knock softly on Mark’s bedroom door. A tired “Come in” sounds from the other side, and you push it open, immediately noticing his disheveled state. Eyes heavy with fatigue and lacking their usual sparkle of youthful innocence, he blinks back at you, “What’s up?”

“You look like you need a break just as much as I do,” you insist. His already-open mouth widens a bit more, “But... our first exam is on Monday, we can’t just—”

“Mark, come on, you’re one of the smartest people in our class. If anyone’s going to pass, it’s you.”

He huffs, “Maybe you have a point.”

“I do have a point, and you know it. A little walk in the park never hurt anyone, right?”

Mark rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, fingers raking through his dark locks before he musters up enough strength to push himself off of his bed and into a standing position.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Central Park is a sight to behold on its own all year round, but something about the Christmas season makes it even more magical. You and Mark step at the same pace, your paths lined by metal benches blanketed in fresh snow. Even through the many layers of warmth you’re both wearing, the chilly air still nips at your skin. It’s Mark’s first time experiencing the holidays in New York City, and you’re determined to show him everything this real-life winter wonderland has to offer.

The story of how you two came to be roommates in the first place is an extremely lucky one. You met in high school, and had been part of the same group of friends along with six younger boys. Both Canadian, you’d been hoping to get into the same New York college since what felt like forever. The day that you received your acceptance letters in the mail was full of joy and celebration, but not even a week later, Mark got an unexpected scholarship to a local but prestigious university not far from where you lived that he simply couldn’t pass up.

Parting ways after graduation, you had thought you might never see each other again until you got a call from him. It was the day after your last exam of the spring semester in college and you were sitting on your two-person couch, feeling rather lonely. The number seemed too familiar, too good to be true, and scrambling to pick up the phone as it blared throughout your fairly small apartment, you answered with a shaky voice. Mark’s recognizable tone met your ears, and a wide smile met your face. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the happiness in your words.

As it turned out, his college had given him the opportunity to transfer to yours for the remainder of his four years, as their programs were closely linked and on similar levels. Graciously, he had accepted, and wanted you to be the first to know.

“So, uh... are you living with anyone?”

The question he dreaded asking more than anything else. Call him cliché, but he had the biggest crush on you in high school, much to his dismay and to the rest of his friends’ excitement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like you, but he feared that college could tear a potential relationship apart, regardless of whether or not you went to the same one.

As a result of this, he had never acted on his emotions. But he’s older now, and wiser, which leads him to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to maintain one, should he ever gain enough courage to ask you out.

“No, actually, I have my own apartment.”

Silence.

“...Are you looking for somewhere to stay?”

“Yes! Yes,” he replied a little too quickly, eager to accept what would hopefully be an invitation from you. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, my place isn’t the biggest, but you can live with me if you want to. Plus, we could split the rent between us!”

You’ve always liked Mark. He’s hardworking, kind, and humble, maybe a little too much of all these things for his own good. Even back in high school, you spent endless nights and very early mornings on the phone with him, trying to convince him to go to bed after he refused to stop studying. To reassure him that he did the right thing by ending that friendship, or to insist that he tell the teacher no one worked on the group project, so he did everything himself. You’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years, you’ve seen a side of him that he’s never been brave enough to show anyone else because they expect so much of him.

Mark knows he’s blessed to have had a picture-perfect childhood, a good family, and an education that was rigorous yet rewarding enough to prepare him for his next chapter in life. The pressures that came with being so lucky just got to him sometimes, and they made four years of high school seem more like fourteen.

You, on the other hand, didn’t quite have all the same luxuries that he did, but you still managed. He’s been there for you plenty of times, too. In your opinion, though, he’s the much more vulnerable one of the two of you, mainly to his cumbersome insecurities and shortcomings, however rare those shortcomings may be.

So in your mind, Mark Lee deserves the entire world and then some. The least you can do is share your apartment with him, either until he finds what you’re sure would be a much more desirable place to live, or if he wants to stay with you indefinitely.

What you don’t realize, and will eventually struggle to admit to yourself, is that your admiration for his perseverance and endless generosity is teetering rather precariously on the edge of blossoming into something more than just platonic.

“Sounds good, then. Thanks so much!” He had exclaimed, the sound of his pure excitement and gratefulness bringing a wave of heat to your face, and you were glad he wasn’t there in front of you to see it.

You talked a little bit more for the next few minutes, catching up and enjoying a lighthearted conversation about what you had both been up to. These sessions on the phone began to occur more and more frequently, turning into weekly, and soon daily, affairs. Mark planned to move in a couple weeks before school started again, giving himself some time to settle in and adapt to urban life in general. The calls became a highlight of your summer vacation, and every day without fail, you found yourself waiting to hear the unique ringtone you had set his contact to.

Less than twelve hours before Mark was scheduled to arrive at New York’s largest airport, you were on the phone with him just like always. The clock in your apartment chimed eleven o’clock, and as reluctant as you were to hang up, you knew you should turn in for the night. After all, the sooner you went to sleep, the sooner the morning would come. The morning you would meet him at the airport.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice was hopeful. Slightly unsteady, but hopeful all the same.

“I guess so. What time does your plane land, again?” You confirmed the time you had scribbled down onto a neon yellow sticky note a few days earlier as he repeated the short string of numbers, nodding to no one in particular. Why did you feel so nervous? It’s just Mark, you had told yourself.

“Have a safe flight!”

He bade you goodnight in return, accidentally throwing in a “sweet dreams” before he could stop himself. When you put your phones down, you were both too busy trying to calm your racing pulses, however, so it didn’t matter. Mark collapsed onto his bed, hand bumping his duffel bag and heaving a sigh. You sank down into the couch cushion, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the back of the furniture. Neither of you could find the strength to stand in those moments, scared that your legs would give in from the unsteadiness of your nerves, your hearts, your emotions.

A singular worry occupied both of your minds from that point on until you greeted him in the JFK airport terminal the next morning, shy smiles on your faces: is it dangerous to enter into the impending situation of living together? Are you really ready to be in such constant close proximity to the object of your affections, however oblivious you might be to them?

Before his brain could talk his heart out of it, Mark had wrapped you in a tight hug, extra thankful for the welcome since you were all he had here, in the city. You wouldn’t have missed his arrival for the world, and you told him so. You also wouldn’t have missed the chance to make him flush a deep but adorable shade of red, reaching from his rounded cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

In your long-term rental car, you drove him back to your apartment, enjoying the quiet sounds of surprise and amazement that spilled from his lips, generated by the city’s sights. As you passed underneath towering skyscrapers, navigated bustling avenues, and caught glimpses of world-renowned landmarks that you both had seen only in the movies when you were younger, you just knew Mark’s eyes held their signature sparkle, despite your inability to see the dark brown orbs glimmer with wonder. You kept yours on the road ahead.

His first day was spent unpacking his suitcases and bags full of possessions, one of which was his most prized: an acoustic guitar.

It had been a gift from his parents when he finished the eighth grade, and all throughout high school, he had turned to music as an escape whenever he needed it. As any new musician does, Mark had played around with chords, experimenting and seeing what sounded good, and before you knew it he had composed a song. Another one followed, then another, and by the end of his freshman year he had written enough to fill an entire album if he so wished.

The guitar had heard every note, every lyric, carried every melody from his heart into the world. It had grown to be a part of him, a worldly sliver of his soul in the form of a simple musical instrument that could convey every hope and every dream, every concern or every frustration. Every love confession. Though that wasn’t saying much, since he only had eyes for you. You didn’t know it, but one of those songs was about you. For you.

You and Mark’s circle of friends tried to set you two up one day in the school’s band room after hours, with the excuse that the second-youngest of the group, Chenle, had forgotten his piano sheet music in there. They sent you to retrieve it, which you only agreed to do after being persuaded by the boy’s intimidating but still lovable pout.

With no sheet music in sight, your eyes landed instead on a diligent Mark that appeared to be the only sign of life in the room, plucking away at the strings as the sun set outside. You had sat with him for a while, neglecting your task and listening to him strum gracefully, softly murmuring lyrics that sounded like your name at one point. You didn’t think much of it, though, not making the connection behind the rest of the words coming out of his mouth and accompanying the chords. His love song was left unacknowledged by the subject of it themselves, and that was both the first and last time he ever attempted to confess to you.

He wondered if now that you were sharing an apartment, he would let something slip by accident. What would he do then?

University had other plans, though, and his fears were temporarily relieved. So fortunately and unfortunately, you were so occupied with schoolwork that trying to balance dating, or even mere thoughts of doing so, with all of your other responsibilities would have been exhausting, not to mention impossible.

Snapping out of your memory-induced daze, you realize that you nearly wandered off the path into a deep snowbank, only aware of this fact because Mark catches you by the wrist and pulls you back toward him to walk at his side. His fingers stay curled around your forearm as you approach a famous bridge, stepping to the side and gazing down at the icy waters below, calm and rippling with the chilly breeze.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

You honestly haven’t thought about it yet, so you can’t give Mark a definite answer. The same goes for him, both of you leaning against the brick railing in a comfortable silence.

In Mark’s mind though, he knows what he wants to give you: something to complement your own equivalent of his guitar, a large collection of handwritten letters and notes from your childhood and school days. Sentimental by nature, you had saved every colorful post-it note one of your friends would slip through the narrow slats of your locker, every birthday card received over the years, every thoughtful postcard from someone’s vacation.

Your favorites are undoubtedly the always-awkward Christmas cards that your friends’ families consistently mail out each December, by far the most humorous parts of your growing collection. You always found yourself chuckling at the pictures displayed on the front. Eyes bright with mirth, you would observe their forced smiles and arms slung carelessly over siblings’ shoulders, their eyes flickering between the camera and something going on behind it, probably the family pet getting into trouble across the yard. You pitied the photographers, surely beyond frustrated as they would try to get everyone to stand still for more than five measly seconds. Mouths were clamped shut and for a brief moment, the air was void of complaints of how itchy someone’s sweater was.

Then the camera would snap, capturing an image that was simply “good enough.” They’d plaster it on the card and in a few days, it would magically appear in the mailboxes of relatives and close friends. Grandparents would overlook the uncomfortable expressions and focus instead on how fast the kids were growing up. You didn’t blame them. Even in four years’ worth of cards, so much could change. In between fits of laughter, you’d stare in awe at the way your friends grew into their features, only becoming more handsome with time and some growing so tall that they even towered over their fathers. You always kept the letters they included, too, detailing the highlights of the year that was soon to come to an end by the time they dropped it into a nearby mailbox.

And like he could read your mind, Mark makes an offhand comment right then and there. “My folks texted me the other day to ask for our address. You know, for the Christmas card.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Shame I couldn’t be there for the family photos this year.”

“Is it really a shame, though?” You prod, tilting your head a bit at the boy. “You always told me you couldn’t stand waiting around for the so-called ‘right lighting’ and all that.”

“Well, I couldn’t, but now that I’m not there I wish I could go back to those days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?”

“Right,” you sigh, thinking about how the same saying could easily apply to the way you felt about Mark all throughout your first year of university.

You have a box, made of a dark mahogany wood and lined with elegant golden trim, where you keep all of these letters, these handwritten memories and souvenirs from some of the happiest moments in your life. A gift from a past Christmas, your family had your initials engraved onto the front in a loopy cursive font, making it truly unique and utterly irreplaceable. And, you’ll soon come to realize, valuable.

Mark remembers it well, remembers the many times you’ve shown him its contents, remembers how his eyes sometimes land on the delicate container resting beneath the windowsill in your room, sunlight catching the accents. He knows how much those letters mean to you, and he also knows how much you love returning the favor.

That’s why he wants to give you the tools you need to do just that, and to do it well.

You’ve always been one for writing thank-you notes for any and every gift you receive, your parents having ingrained the habit in you since you were very young. Slowly, crayons turned into pencils and lead became ink. To this day you remain unfazed by the increasing amount of yellowing papers residing in the letter box, but the words imprinted on them never quite fade, strong enough to withstand the test of time.

Too many times in high school Mark would find you, hunched over your dining room table in frustration with a stack of letters beside your arm that you deemed “failed” because your handwriting was bad, or something of the sort. Usually it was the other way around, him being the one in need of comfort, but on those days your roles were reversed.

He had always wondered why you didn’t have fancier supplies that were more suited to your task, but he supposes now that maybe it simply wasn’t an option for you and your family. So a stationery set seems like the perfect gift for you this year.

On a similar note, you’ve already decided what you’re getting him: a guitar case. You happened upon a sleek leather one while browsing the website of a popular music store, coincidentally with a location not too far from your apartment.

Now it’s no longer a question of what to get the other, but how. As university students living on your own, money is scarce. Unknowingly, you both contemplate this concern as you walk side by side, returning to the start of the path that you set out on at least a half hour ago.

This stroll of yours was supposed to clear your minds, but why are they racing even more than before?

There’s no time to worry now, though, and for the next week, your thoughts are forced to shift back to the topic of school and midterms and all your academic endeavors.

Your exam week is over before you know it, and the two of you return to your apartment after the last one only to collapse onto your respective beds, beyond exhausted.

The dreary Friday afternoon clearly calls for a nap, but unbeknownst to you, Mark decides to seize the opportunity that has so conveniently presented itself to him: a chance for him to go out and buy your gift without suspicion. He drops his backpack on the carpet next to his dresser and sighs, wondering if what he’s about to do will be worth it. But it’s you, of course it’ll be worth it.

Thus, his next move is done with a heavy heart. He’s been forced by a lack of funds to come to a decision about your gift, and a difficult one at that. The only thing he can think of doing to even come close to affording a nice stationery set is to sell some things in exchange for cash. Namely, the most valuable item he owns: his beloved guitar. He doesn’t really want to, but deep down he knows that a true friendship warrants the occasional sacrifice. He’s done some research on a nearby pawn shop, and however sketchy those kinds of places may seem, it’s his only feasible option at the moment, with just a week left until Christmas Day.

After making sure you’re fast asleep, he not-so-stealthily slips out of your shared flat, his actions far from silent but even so, you don’t wake up. Mark winces at the unintended high volume of pulling the front door shut behind him, sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and relaxing when he feels his keys at the bottom of the fabric compartment. Guitar strung over his shoulder by the flimsy, fraying strap, he sets off.

With his phone in hand and directions to the pawn shop displayed on the screen, he strides through the lobby of the apartment building and pushes the revolving door, stepping onto the busy sidewalk and into the cold winter air. Shoppers crowd the pavement with hands full of department store tote bags, crinkling loudly as they pass by one another. Shoulders knock together and heels click against the concrete, just some of the many sounds of the city that Mark is still growing used to hearing.

A few blocks and several wrong turns later, he finds himself on a quieter street, standing in front of the shop. It’s dimly lit inside and looks almost abandoned, the letters painted on the window chipped and faded from the wear and weather of past years. A soft bell rings when he lets himself in, searching for some sort of employee.

From behind a cluttered shelf a tall man emerges, the shabby name tag pinned to his vest reading “Johnny.” Well, he’s not some shifty-eyed, balding man wearing a muscle shirt stained with grease. New York continues to be full of surprises.

His dark hair looks neat, the jacket he’s wearing free of any wrinkles and face young but chiseled, high cheekbones prominent.

“How can I help you today?” Johnny booms, stepping behind the counter and absentmindedly sifting through some loose change in bottom of the cash register.

Mark gulps, “I’d like to sell something.” Still not entirely sure he wants to do this, he instinctively tugs on the strap resting atop the fabric of his wool jacket.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Johnny assures with a small laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Taking a deep breath, Mark slides the guitar off his shoulder and holds it near his chest for a moment, before extending his arms out towards the counter.

“A guitar, huh? We don’t see many of these,” the tall man comments. “Are you sure? It seems pretty valuable to you in more ways than one.”

Mark’s fingertips trace the strings for the last time and he decides to just get it over with, before he can change his mind. His hands are shaky as he gently places the instrument down on the counter in front of Johnny, taking a step back once he’s done so. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need the money to buy a gift for my… uh, my friend.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “Just a friend? Or a special someone?”

“They are special,” Mark confirms, noncommittal to either title that Johnny suggested.

“They must be if you’re willing to give up something like this for them. Okay, that’ll be…”

Johnny tells him what the guitar is worth, matching the amount with a stack of cash and a few old coins, rusty but still holding their value.

Despite the pain of letting something so meaningful go, a bit of joy creeps into Mark’s heart as he realizes that now he can give you a gift that will hopefully become just as meaningful to you as his guitar was to him.

He thanks Johnny and bids him goodbye, step lighter than when he entered, much to his surprise.

It’s the next day when you and Mark find yourselves getting into the Christmas spirit for the first time this season. After he had returned yesterday, you were still out cold on your bed, so he chose to follow your example and do the same. The both of you had slept the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the following morning away, waking up just before noon.

With a sudden burst of energy you spring up from the sheets, overtaken by your excitement for the nearing holiday as you dig out the artificial Christmas tree you had bought last year from your closet. Sure, it may seem lazy of you, but let’s face it: there was no easy way to find a real one in New York City, let alone lug it down the streets, through an elevator and down a narrow hallway to a door it wouldn’t even fit through.

Mark hears the loud rustling of various decorations as he begins to stir, leisurely getting out of bed and checking one of his dresser drawers to make sure he hadn’t merely dreamed up his shopping adventure of the previous evening. There the stationery set sits, tucked safely at the back of the wooden cabinet.

The bookstore he stopped at on his way back last night had many different options to choose from, so he made sure to get one that both matched your box of letters and reminded him of you, with its color scheme and style. A surge of pride brings a smile to his features, pleased with his choice, and he pushes the drawer shut before joining you in the living area.

Your knees brush as he sits down next to you to help unpack the large but manageable box, taking out the tiers of the tree to eventually stack on top of one another. Working more quickly than usual (and probably necessary, there are six days left after all), you assign Mark to stringing the lights across your small balcony while you finish setting up the tree. You knew you shouldn’t have let him do it alone, though, because when you look over at his progress you find more lights wrapped around his body than the metal railing.

“Do you need a hand?” You question, holding back a laugh at the way the cord restricts his arm movements to the point where he can’t even reach for the handle on the sliding door.

From outside he opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, looking down at himself and the mess he’s made of the lights before meeting your eyes once more. His voice is muffled by the glass, but you hear him shout playfully, “I’m the tree now! We don’t need that one.” He tries to gesture to the one you’re currently decorating, but fails, and this time you aren’t able to contain your amusement.

“Let me help you,” you offer, joining him on the balcony and helping him untangle himself from the glowing strands. “Thanks,” Mark replies, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. With your combined efforts, you manage to thread the string of lights through the railing with little to no mishaps, and both of you continue decking out the apartment with other seasonal items for the next several hours.

At some point during the afternoon one of you decided to connect their phone to a speaker and play some music, all Christmas songs of course. As the classic version of “Jingle Bell Rock” begins to blare throughout the living room, Mark abandons his task momentarily to walk over to you. He extends a hand down to you, sitting on the floor, and you accept the invitation to stand up with a questioning look.

“Dance with me?”

It’s hardly a platonic request, Mark realizes once the words leave his lips, but even so you don’t shy away, glancing down at your feet with a slight trace of bashfulness in the action.

He intertwines your fingers somewhat loosely, placing his non-dominant hand on your waist and beginning to sway, slowly at first but then his movements become more exaggerated, shoulders tilting dramatically to one side after the other and straying from the rhythm of the music. You join Mark in drawing out the jesting movements, losing yourself in laughter and leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder, the heat of your breath hitting his skin through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. In one last attempt to keep the joyful smile on your face, he steps back a bit and holds your wrist above your head to twirl you in a circle.

The electric guitar in the song fades as you collapse onto the carpet, recovering from your fit of giggles. The sun has begun to sink in the sky, you can tell by the gold and orange glow that your apartment becomes bathed in as it sets, inching closer to the horizon and eventually becoming hidden by tall skyscrapers in the distance.

Satisfied with your progress so far, you both decide to call it a day, though in truth there aren’t many decorations left to put out. A few stray ornaments and some garlands remain, still packed up in boxes that you would need help reaching. You’re also eager to get your mind off of the way your heart was palpitating as you danced with Mark, your roommate and friend but nothing more, nothing less. You have enough to worry about at the moment, not wanting to add potential feelings for the boy into the mix. Shit, you think, you still need to buy his gift.

“What should we watch?” Mark asks, scrolling through the list of movie choices on the TV screen.

“I don’t really care, anything’s fine.”

His finger presses a button on the remote to select a film at random, the intro playing as you scan the refrigerator shelves for a frozen meal. Hopefully it’s not one of those cheesy holiday romances.

Settling down on the couch a few minutes later, you with the warmed-up container in your lap and Mark holding a cup of ramen noodles, both of you fall into a comfortable chatter about the movie. Thank god it’s a comedy.

Occasionally you find yourself diverting your attention from the harsh display and directing it over to the panes of floor-to-ceiling windows, where you watch more and more lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the urban landscape as night falls. The view is breathtaking, but so is the way your face softly glows with their warmth, even from blocks away. Not that Mark would ever tell you that, of course.

“I’m going out!” Mark hears shuffling from outside his bedroom the next morning, your voice instantly bringing him to his senses. Curious, he shoots out of bed and flings the door open to find you, one arm stuck through the sleeve of your coat and the other buried in a bag, but it’s not the one you usually bring when you leave the flat. Eyes wide and panicked at the boy’s unexpected appearance, you clutch it to your chest with a visible amount of difficulty, Mark notices.

“Where are you off to?” He squints at the brightness of the living room, the early morning light pouring in through the glass on the far wall.

“...Maybe I can’t tell you,” you respond with a huff, slinging the heavy bag over your shoulder and pulling the rest of your coat on.

“What do you mean, you can’t—oh.”

“Nice going, genius,” you shake your head, feigning disappointment. “It’s not like it’s Christmas this week or anything.”

“My bad, sorry.” Mark winces and rakes a hand through his bedhead, abashed.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

With that, you step into the hallway and offer a parting smile over your shoulder, shutting the front door behind you.

At least your being out of the apartment gives Mark time to wrap your gift. All he has to do is figure out how.

Johnny gets a familiar feeling when he sees you enter the pawn shop, fumbling with your things and reluctantly gazing at whatever’s in the tote you’re holding. Are you also about to make an exchange you could potentially regret?

“One second,” you excuse yourself as you step up to the counter, placing the heavy bag down and removing the large item from inside: your letter box, minus its contents. Of course you would never get rid of those, but despite the letters and notes being so special to you, the box they were always kept in is also a significant part of your attachment and the memories you hold dear.

With a thud you set it down, Johnny glancing between the hesitation on your face and the wooden container on the counter in front of him. “Let me guess, you want to exchange this for cash?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I—” You pause, biting your tongue. “Hold on… Look, I know this is a pawn shop and that’s what people do here, but how are you so sure?”

Johnny’s gut tells him he shouldn’t give away the fact that a boy wearing the very same expression and with the same sense of purpose and determination was in here just two days earlier. So he corrects his mistake with a simple “Lucky guess” and a hearty chuckle.

Without Johnny even asking, you tell him that you’re also looking for some extra cash in order to afford a gift for your “friend,” and you say the word with so much conviction and certainty that it’s almost laughable. The information given to Johnny helps him fully connect the dots in his mind, realizing that each of you are the one the other talked about.

Before handing you the money, Johnny tears off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and asks you to fill out your information, most importantly your address. He has to lie a bit, saying it’s for contact purposes, but his heart is in the right place nonetheless. Just in case something goes south (and the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it will somehow), doing so gives him an option, even if he doesn’t know what that option might be yet.

“Thank you, Johnny, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” He returns your wish cheerfully as you push the door open to leave.

“Good luck finding a gift for your ‘friend,’ too.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when you see his teasing use of air quotes, but still smile.

On your way back to the apartment Mark texts you and asks you to check the mail, saying he forgot to do so yesterday. When you arrive in the lobby and make your way over to the cluster of mailboxes, you’re instantly shocked to find a large cardboard box shoved into the small cubby with your and Mark’s name on it. You’re already struggling to carry the guitar case you bought for him, so you decide to make a second trip later.

A few moments after stepping out of the elevator, you knock on the door to your apartment, hoping with all your might that Mark won’t actually open it and instead just answer with a “Come in” as he always does. Your wish is, thankfully, granted, but it’s quickly followed by “Wait, wait, wait!” As it happens, he just finished wrapping your gift and needs another minute or two to tuck it away somewhere until the big day arrives. “Can you stay out there until I say?”

“Sure,” you reply, “but I’m going to have to ask you to do the same.”

“How about I stay in my room while you come in and do… whatever you need to?”

“Sounds good.”

With his door closed, Mark hears the front one open and shut as you enter. Trying not to make any noise that would give away the size of the item you just bought, you finally settle for hiding the leather case underneath your bed, concealed by the drapery attached to its frame that hovers just above the floor.

Mark had hastily placed the now-wrapped (though not elegantly so) stationery set back into his dresser, so he’s already out of his room by the time you leave yours. “Any letters or packages?” He questions when he sees you.

“Oh, right!” You snap your fingers, “We do have a package but my hands were full, so I’ll bring it up right now.”

“Eggnog?”

While the box had looked fairly ordinary from the outside, upon opening it and glancing at the return address you learned it was actually anything but that. Mark’s and your parents had sent a holiday care package of sorts, including both of your families’ Christmas cards and a carton of eggnog, along with some small gifts that are meant to be saved for the morning of the 25th. Also mixed in are a few small decorations (not that you need more), some baking supplies complete with a copy of the recipe for the cookies you make every year, and a soft pair of mittens for each of you. He hopes you don’t realize that one of the items is a sprig of mistletoe.

“You don’t like eggnog?” You ask, stunned. Mark shrugs, “I don’t really care for milk but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

That evening you and Mark take another stroll, this time choosing to stay on the streets and admire the festively adorned buildings and shops as you pass by them. Admiring Christmas lights at this time of year is nothing new to you and Mark. In fact, when you lived in Canada you would do the same thing. The only difference is that back then, it involved driving through quiet suburban neighborhoods and not ambling through crowded city streets and alleyways on foot.

Snowflakes begin to cascade from the heavens as you make your way back around to the block where you live. Mark sticks his tongue out to catch one of the small crystals, and it immediately melts in his mouth, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the boy. Snow is also something you both are more than used to by now, having grown up with white Christmases all your lives. It makes you wonder if the holiday season would be the same without it.

“You know what we should do?” Mark turns to you just as you’re about to enter the apartment building again. “Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Mark, c’mon, you know stuff like that is overpriced. And besides, I can’t skate to save my life. Remember—”

“That time in sophomore year? You bet I do,” he laughs as he remembers how you clumsily fell not even two seconds after stepping onto the ice with your skates, and then refused to let go of the railing for the rest of the day. The elevator whirs to life, climbing floor after floor with ease.

“Hey,” you offer, “we can still go and watch people skate, I’m sure there’s some place to sit.”

“And we can look at the Christmas tree, too,” Mark adds, eyes brightening at the idea.

“Right. I forget you haven’t seen it in person before.” The cabin doors open with a ding and you step out, your eyes landing on the door to your apartment a few yards away.

When you turn on the TV, Mark becomes mesmerized by the movie that’s playing, since it takes place in NYC and he recognizes so many places from actually being there. He scrambles to remove his jacket and beanie, plopping down onto the couch once they’re safely hooked on the coat rack.

Watching him, you sigh. Would anything really change if you were dating? Assuming your feelings were returned, of course, but you can’t imagine that your relationship would differ much. You certainly wouldn’t go on extravagant dates, or buy expensive gifts for each other, but that’s not what love is about, anyway. With the exception of a few extra hugs and the addition of kisses, along with more forms of physical affection in general (actually, scratch that, Mark’s always been awkward with those kinds of things), you’d still be by each other’s side just like always.

As you sit down next to him and feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you don’t shrug it off, instead embracing the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart that you can’t blame on the holiday season this time.

Mark’s glad, too. He’s been working up the courage to do that all day.

Late that night, you quietly tiptoe into the living area, retrieving an old box from your move-in last year that will fit his gift perfectly, and won’t give away what’s inside. Your hands fold and tape the wrapping paper with care, tying a neat ribbon once you’re done. Sure, you had to give up something that meant a lot to you in order to afford Mark’s present, but the gains outweigh the losses. You find comfort in imagining the way his face will surely light up with pure joy on Christmas morning, drifting off to sleep with ease once you’ve hidden the rectangular parcel back underneath your bed.

A few days pass and soon it’s the 23rd, and you join Mark at the railing of the ice rink, of course on the side with solid ground. “Ice is solid ground,” Mark had corrected, but you stood firm in your words. “More like slippery ground, if you ask me.”

Luckily you had been allowed to stand here for free, because god only knows what small, simple thing someone would be charged for in New York. It’s happened to you before, and you’re not even a tourist.

Mark’s dark eyes gaze up at the 75-foot-tall tree in wonder, pupils dilating and reflecting the tens of thousands of bright lights strung through the dark green branches. They seem to sparkle with sheer amazement. Just then someone skates a little too close to the section of railing you’re leaning on, startling Mark out of his LED-induced daze and putting the most adorable look of surprise on his face.

His focus shifts to the people on the ice, wearing sweaters and jackets of every color imaginable, and the sight is still as beautiful as the looming Christmas tree above. He notices some couples, holding onto one another or skating hand-in-hand, and it makes him wonder if that could be you two someday, at a future Christmas, or if it’s an idea absurd enough for an alternate reality.

Mark sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye, and it’s his cue to suggest returning home for the evening. In a very cliché and boyfriend-esque gesture he offers you his jacket, but you decline, insisting that it’s not far and assuring him that you’ll be okay.

Back in your heated flat, you twist open the lid of the eggnog carton and pour a small glass for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t want some?” You call out to Mark from the kitchen, snatching one of the cookies you made the other day and finding a paper plate for the thin shortbread wafer, lined with elegant white icing and dusted with sprinkles.

“I already told you, I don’t like eggnog!”

“Have you even tried it before?” Mark grumbles at your nagging. You really sound like his mom right now.

“No…”

You appear at the other end of the couch, holding out a small cup with just a sip or two of eggnog in it. “Try it. You never know.”

He knows you won’t leave until you see him lift it to his lips for yourself, so he does. Immediately the sweet drink overwhelms his taste buds, and also leaves a slight sting on his tongue.

“What’s in this stuff?” He coughs, nose scrunching a bit from the strong taste. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t hate it. Following you back to the kitchen, Mark pours a full glass this time, already gulping it down.

“Uh,” you scan the ingredients on the back of the carton once he sets it down on the counter, “milk, cream, sugar, eggs…”

“...whiskey? What the hell?”

“It has alcohol,” Mark slurs, his giggling interrupted by a hiccup. Having never drank before, he’s undeniably a lightweight, and even a little bit can get him wasted almost instantly.

“Mom and Dad must have mixed something up, because they definitely didn’t mean to send us alcoholic eggnog.”

Sure enough, back home in Canada your parents are wondering why they only have the kid-friendly stuff in their fridge.

Mark latches on to you, arm curling lazily around your waist. Great, he’s one of those people that gets clingy when they’re drunk. “Try some,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder a little.

“Are you crazy?”

“No one will know,” he laughs, hiccuping again. Giving in to his adorably drunken pout, you take one sip from your original glass but no more, an unpleasant buzz taking over your whole mouth.

Not looking forward to finding a hangover cure on Christmas Eve of all days, you pray that you’ll stay sober enough to take care of the tipsy boy, who’s currently pressing his face into the back of your neck and—shit, did he just kiss you there? You really don’t need this right now.

“Mark, you’re drunk, okay? Stop it,” you caution.

“But I love you,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning your skin, and you want to kick yourself for almost saying it back. Does he even mean it, though? Alcohol makes people say crazy things, things they don’t mean, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. You unhook his arm from your torso and turn around to push against his chest, frustrated. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He seems to have just remembered something, because he ignores you and instead goes over to where the care package was still sitting, digging into the bottom and pulling out something you hadn’t noticed before. “Look,” Mark declares in a nasal voice, “mistletoe.”

You exasperatedly hang your head, desperate to slam it into the nearest wall. With much difficulty, you eventually manage to get him tucked underneath the blanket, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. “Get some sleep,” you say simply.

He tells you goodnight with a fond mumble of your name as you shut the bedroom door behind you. Rubbing your eyes, you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to bed yourself, trying to block out the events that had just taken place.

Your head aches when you wake up the next morning, and you feel like garbage, so you can only imagine how much worse Mark must be doing. Quickly chugging a water bottle, you reluctantly go to knock on his door, hearing a pained groan once you enter. He’s sitting up, chin resting in one hand and the other anchored onto the heavy comforter covering his legs.

“How are you feeling?” The obvious question with an even more obvious answer makes Mark wince. “Awful.”

“Sorry.” It’s silent for a moment, Mark pressing three fingers to his throbbing forehead and you staring aimlessly at the wall. “I knew that eggnog was a bad idea.”

“You were the one that told me to try it!”

“I didn't know it had alcohol in it!”

You sigh, dejected. Something tells Mark that your head isn’t the only thing hurting.

“Hey, I know that look. What’s wrong?” He prods, voice soft and gentle and altogether unlike how it had been last night. You meet his eyes for a moment, about to speak but biting your lip at the last second. Mark’s brain puts two and two together at your expression.

“Oh god, did I say something? Do something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply in a huff. “First you kissed my neck, then you told me you loved me, and then you held up a clump of mistletoe and implied that we should kiss underneath it.”

His memories of the previous evening are all a blur, so he truly would have no idea what happened if you hadn’t just said something. Mark knows he screwed up, bad.

You tense when you feel him place his hand over yours, but you don’t snatch it away. After collecting his thoughts, Mark clears his throat.

“Look, I… I know that’s not the best way for you to find out how someone feels about you. But I’m completely sober, and I can tell you that I meant what I said last night.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Mark replies.

“...Can you say it again, then?”

He blushes, “That I…?”

You nod, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.

“I love you,” Mark tells you for the second time in the last 24 hours, but this time you know you can believe him. The pain of your hangover goes away for a moment as he takes your jaw in his hands and connects your lips, just barely retaining the buzz of the alcohol but not enough to bother you. Slowly you kiss him back, sinking down onto the mattress beside him.

Mark pulls away for air a few seconds later, thumb grazing your cheek lovingly. “Does this mean we’re—”

“Dating? If you want it to, then sure,” your finger traces swirly shapes on the small of his back while you assure him that neither of you need to rush into anything if you aren’t ready.

“I don’t want things to change, though.”

“Who said they have to? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we’re already pretty close, you know? Making it ‘official’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘different,’ so...”

Mark hums in agreement, “You’re right. Okay, I can live with that.”

“And I can’t live another second without food. I’m making breakfast,” you quip, reverting back to the usual banter between you and him.

“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mark insists as you both make your way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“You absolutely will not!”

The night before Christmas had started out unlike any that you’d ever experienced before, with you confronting your now-boyfriend about a drunken love confession the previous day. But now, it’s ending just like every year, with you cozy and curled up in front of the television as the last few segments of the news play.

It’s the coldest Christmas Eve in years. You learned this after the meteorologist had informed viewers of the record only a few minutes earlier, inadvertently planting an idea in Mark’s mind.

Right as you’re about to turn in for the night, setting a plate of decorated cookies and a glass of milk down on the end table (as is tradition in your families, no matter how old you are), Mark holds out his arms like a child might. “Can we…?” He asks in a quiet voice, nervous to finish his sentence.

“Huh?”

The boy inhales sharply, “It’s freezing. Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” His cheeks flush a deep red that’s almost the color of Christmas itself.

You’re slightly taken aback, and then you remember it’s just Mark. “Sure, why not,” you answer with a light shrug and a smile on your face.

“But no funny business,” you inform him as you climb under the sheets together, instantly happy with your choice to join him because double the people means double the body heat. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark replies, pecking your lips. His wrist finds the warm skin of your neck and you flinch away.

“Your hands are cold!” He just snickers at your whining.

The two of you fall asleep more quickly than you ever have on Christmas Eve, usually overcome with nerves and excitement, but now, as two college-aged kids, you’re comfortable and not rushing the morning’s arrival at all, content in each other’s arms for the moment.

You feel like you’re 10 years old again as you rush into the living room at 8am the next day, the bright, early morning sky lighting up your entire apartment. At the base of your Christmas tree sits a humble amount of presents, composed of the two that you bought for each other plus the half-dozen small ones from your parents.

You hand Mark one of the cookies from the end table and grab one for yourself, taking a bite of the sweet treat as you sit down and motioning for him to do the same.

“Open yours first,” you say eagerly, referring to your gift for him. Mark shakes his head and points to what he got you, “No, you go first.”

“Fine, we’ll open them at the same time.” Mark nods, satisfied with the compromise and handing you both the packages.

“On three. One, two…”

The final number barely leaves your lips before you both begin tearing into the paper excitedly, Mark reaching for the flaps on the box and you unfolding the tissue paper.

When you each see what the other gifted you with, it’s completely silent, save for the TV playing a Christmas Day special in the background.

He gazes blankly at you, licking his lips as his eyes dart between the guitar case and your expression.

“I appreciate the gift, but I…” Mark pauses, unsure how to tell you this.

You don’t say a word, raising your eyebrows as a signal for him to continue.

“I sold my guitar to pay for your gift,” he breathes.

“You what? Mark, that guitar means everything to you! Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re worth it, of course!”

“Well, I did the same thing,” you break the news with an unamused expression. “I sold my letter box to pay for that case.”

His eyes become impossibly wider at that, nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You groan and lie down on the floor, beyond discouraged. “Let me guess, the pawn shop on 23rd?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” An idea hits Mark like a rush of cold air. “Maybe we can work out a deal or something.”

“Meaning?”

“We go back and see if we can trade in our new gifts for enough money to get our old things back.”

“One, I doubt it’s that easy, and two, pretty much everything is closed on Christmas Day.” You’re half tempted to laugh because of how ironic this situation is.

Mark sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“We can still try, though.”

Sure enough, the pawn shop is dark, even more so than usual, and the door doesn’t budge. A sign taped to the window from the inside confirms your fear: Closed on Christmas. Gloved hands pressed onto the glass, you and Mark admit your defeat. You had been bested by the giving spirit of the holiday season, almost too generous for your own good.

But it’s the message that the day itself stands for after all, for putting aside material value and doing something out of the kindness of your heart just to make someone else happy. That’s what it’s all about, and you and Mark had personally experienced it this year.

So you’re surprised to find two boxes leaning on the wall beside the door to your apartment the next morning, shapes oddly familiar. Could it be?

Just hours earlier, the hallway surveillance cameras caught a tall man striding down the corridor, carrying those exact packages under his arms. In the video he pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling a short message before tucking it underneath the ribbon of the larger parcel and leaving the building just as quickly as he came.

You and Mark’s only clue as to who had returned your items is a messy ‘J’ at the end of the note attached to the box containing his guitar. Exchanging knowing glances, you both grin, squeezing your intertwined hands with the same name in mind.

...So what if Johnny had to take a bit of money out of his own paycheck to cover the cost of the items? Besides, it’s Christmas. And his boss never has to know.

#kpopscape #neo-constellations #starryktown #neoculturecafe #nctmentary.net #nct #nct au #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct 127 #wayv #nct dream fanfic #nct dream scenarios #nct dream au #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #mark x reader #mark scenarios #mark imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct oneshot #nct fluff #nct angst #fluff #angst #mark lee oneshot

[quixotic-writer]

Lustful Hunger

Request: for my darling @birdgirl1772 <3

Summary: You have never been satisfied with anything. Socially, romantically, physically, you name it. Q has always tried to prove himself, but you always pushed him away. At a wrap party however, you finally give him the chance to see if he can satisfy your cravings.

warning: smut ahead!

A/N: Haha! Suki is back in action! Thanks for being so patient guys, I have so many pieces, one shots, and chapters that will be released soon now that school has calmed down a bit ;)

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Another season wrapped up just like that and the after party was in full swing. Producers, camera men, comedy producers all had a drink of sorts in their hand as they all smiled and clamored over each other talking about the success of filming. Yet again, I was off alone on the side with a can of soda in hand unsatisfied once more with everything. Building such high standards for myself has proven to be far beyond damaging, conversations seem fruitless with others, friendships come and go like seasons, romantic relationships always seemed to fizzle like a match. I'm just…

“All by your lonesome again I see.” I turn and see Q taking a seat next to me with a can of beer in his hand and a smirk on his face. He readjusts the familiar hat atop his head and brushes stray hairs off to the side, “You’re a strange bird you know darling. You always seem so sociable one moment, and so distant the next.” I took a sip from my can and felt a cool draft graze my skin as he said the word ‘darling’ which caused the hairs on my arm to stand on end.

“Not feeling social I guess.”

“Not social? Or not satisfied?” My movements came to a halt and I felt my spine tense. He knew he had me trapped in the spider's web, open and exposed like a patient on a surgical table, I could see it in the way he smiled and the way his eyebrow flicked upwards. He tapped the side of his now empty can with the ring band on his middle finger, the sound was so quiet yet it seemed to overwhelm and intimidate me.

“And what makes you question something like that Quinn?” He lassod my interest, I turned my body to face him. It was my turn to pick at his brain just as he did with mine.

“They say the eyes are the window to the soul. You, my dear, rarely ever have a spark in your eyes. When you talk to others, I can see the gears turning in your head questioning whether the conversation is worth taking any further. You have judging, hungry eyes. Always searching for something better, perfection, but never being able to quite find what you’re looking for. You don’t have a consistent friend group at all, or friends for that matter it seems. And tell me if i’m overstepping, but lovers seem to come and go like the wind and I know it’s not them breaking it off.” He leans in a little closer and a sensation sends a fiery desire through my chest and a radiating pulse in my parietal lobe.

“What makes you so knowledgeable on my psychology? Sounds like someone’s a little too familiar with the scenario than he could be letting on.” I lean in just as he had, and before me were his deep brown eyes. I began recollecting all that I could on the man before me and began to see a pattern in the memories that I played in my head. “Tell me Quinn, could you be like me?” All he did was chuckle.

“Why do you think I love talking to you so much?” My smile fades and I grow slightly flustered. Everyone always made an effort to talk to me, but I guess out of all the guys and the crew, Q was the one I seemed to talk to the most. He always talked to me whenever he could. Whenever I made a judgement in my head and pushed people away, they usually would give up after two or maybe even three tries. Not Q, though. He seemed relentless and up for the challenge. He didn’t treat me like a prize to be won, he just kept talking to me in the most genuine matter as though his one true goal truly was just to get to know me. In return, I would do the same with him, and to my surprise got the same act thrown right back. It was like a taste of my own medicine and I never realized it, but I found myself subconsciously chasing Q just as he was chasing me. “Tell me, what does it take to satisfy a girl like you then?” He said it in a low tone, it seemed like a command to tell him rather than a question. I swallow hard, I haven’t had any alcohol tonight but he has me feeling as though i’ve had more than enough to drink.

“What’s it to you, Quinn?”

“A question isn’t an answer darling.” The way he dominated the conversation made my thoughts wander to what else he had in store for me tonight. The tension was thick between us, you could cut it with a knife. I bit my lip not knowing whether I should give him the fulfillment of all of my flesh driven desires. What did I have to lose?

“As far as friends go, I like honesty and depth. It’s not easy finding that when all people do is use you to get to the people you work with. So I keep my distance. My family and you guys are my friends, don’t need much beyond that.” I smile at him and look at all the crew members paying no mind to myself and Q. It felt as though this conversation should be kept away from nearby ears, so I planned to keep it that way. “Relationship wise, many boys have come and gone in my life as you can see. But that was the problem, they were boys, not men. Sure, they could grace me with a promising conversation, treat me with respect as anyone should, give me physical intimacy. I could give them the same because in a relationship it’s like teamwork, you build each other up in ways you can. But when I wanted more, I noticed more and more that they wouldn’t be able to satiate my needs. They grew selfish with their love, they only cared about their own satisfaction and happiness, so I would leave.” I played around with my empty soda can on the counter, tracing the rim of it with my fingertip and tapping on it with my nails as I spoke.

“Absolute man eater, left a string of broken hearts behind you.”

“You got quite the track record yourself. Don’t act so innocent.” A guilty and sinister smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Q was always seen with some new girl every so often. As soon as they popped into his life, they seemed to disappear just as fast like it never even happened.

“Guess I've had my fair share of rounds. Have an insatiable hunger myself that some just couldn’t quite appease. Broke a few hearts along the way and had mine broken a few times, but I pick myself up and keep moving forward.” He raises a can as a means to toast his own statement as he brings it to his mouth for a sip, tilting his head back to get each drop in. There was something in that action that made me salivate slightly, the way I caught a glimpse of his adams apple bouncing as he drank, the tendons in his neck so clearly visible. My eyes diverted over to his arm, his ‘quixotic’ tattoo just barely visible and half covered by the sleeve of his t-shirt, his bicep slightly flexed just enough to allow filthy visuals to flow in my head. He slams the can down onto the counter top and lets out a refreshed exhale past his lips.

“How hungry are you, Quinn?” Our chairs seemed like magnets, we kept getting closer to each other. I felt the passion ignite inside, a desire to challenge the willingness of the man that was sitting before me. Our faces were inches, no, centimeters away from each other as we began leaning in close to each other. I could smell the beer on his lips. I took a plunge into the pool of lava that coaxed me into the deep end. Our lips were connected, and he tasted like the stinging electricity of promise with the lingering aroma of alcohol. With an arrogant smile on his face and a look of passion in his eyes, I knew this was only the beginning. “Wanna ditch this party?”

“Only if you give me the pleasure of finally showing you what satisfaction feels like.” I didn’t need to say much else, we made our stealthy exit and decided on his place as our final destination. I couldn’t tell if he always drove as though he was in a terribly fired rush, or he just couldn’t wait any longer and I managed to flip a switch inside of him. I already felt myself grow wetter as the seconds passed, the unpredictability of Q left my imagination working over time to create an endless web of scenarios that could play out. He guided me through the front door and once he had the door closed behind him, he had me pinned against the wall and our mouths collided. Our lips moved in sync and I felt his tongue slowly protrude into my mouth, I willingly allowed its entrance and allowed my tongue to snake around his. My hand wandered to the zipper of his jeans, I rubbed an open palm against him and felt the bulge in his pants. Instinctively, his hips jerked into my hand and a moan exudes from him.

When he pulled away, I attached my lips to a new area of flesh. His neck. I sucked hickeys onto the skin as he slowly guided me to his bedroom, stumbling against walls humming at each new sensation that felt like an intense wave of pleasure. When we finally made it to the bed, I fell onto my back and sank into the soft cushion of the mattress, there he was with lust glazing his eyes and swollen lips in a devilish smile. I help him take his shirt off and I gently rub my hands against his now bare chest. His hand slips carefully up my shirt, cold fingertips dragging up the warm skin of my stomach as he smothers into the crook of my neck, my back arches up aching to feel more of him against me. All our clothes were discarded off to the side without a second thought until we were left in nothing but our underwear, his boxers were tented, and my panties were soaking wet.

“Brian. Please, touch me more.” I sat up against the pillows and he was between my thighs, leaving dark hickeys all over my abdomen. He pulled away and smiled with a darkness in his eyes.

“I want you to pleasure yourself for me.” My eyes open up and I look down to him confused. “I want to see what makes you feel good.” He repositions himself on the bed to lay right next to me. For his odd request, I was determined to put on a show just for him.

I look down at my bare body and trace my hands carefully along my thighs and let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. My hand dips into my panties and I drag my middle finger into my soaking wet folds and hum at the slow, trained movement. I bring my middle and ring fingers to my lips and generously coat them, tasting my own juices on them as I moan and bring them back down to my entrance and slowly push them in. My eyes close and I start off slowly, carefully sliding my fingers in and out of myself.

“Tell me what you’re thinking of darling. What in your filthy mind are you imagining that’s making you so wet?” His voice is low and his breath was hot against my ear. When he spoke, there was a baritone rumble that scratched against his throat in the most breathtaking way.

“Thinking of what you’d do to me if it wasn’t my fingers making me feel so good.” I gasp and take my lower lip between my teeth. I hear shakily breath next to me and he kisses along the side of my neck and I loll my head to the side to grant him more access.

“Are you thinking about what it’d feel like if it were my thick fingers pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy. I can imagine already how you would tighten around them when I curl them just the right way and hit the spot that would force whimpers out of you.” As he spoke, I began to imagine it all. The way I know they would slip right into me because of how wet I was, I could feel how filling they would be and stretch me in ways my own dainty hands couldn’t. “You’re so fucking beautful like this, I can’t wait to see more.” My hands wander all over my skin that was igniting, I felt myself burning from the inside out as his words drew me in closer to my climax. “I can’t wait to just get a taste of you and have my tongue discovering each and every inch of you, fucking you with it until you release all over my face and I have nothing left to do but clean it up as you buck your hips as your climax fades away. I bet you taste as good as you look.” My fingers are working faster and my free hand finds its way down to my clit and I begin rubbing circles. My feet are planted onto the sheets of the bed as I feel my hips slowly begin to lift off the bed in desperation for more. “Then I can’t wait to just shove my throbbing cock into your tight little cunt, finally show you what a good fucking feels like, give to you pleasure no other man could ever get you to experience. Pure euphoria, and it will all be because of me.” I’m gasping and whimpering as I finally fall down into the pool of euphoria, a strangled moan frees itself from my throat as my hips buck into my hand.

“Holy shit…” I gasp as I finally come down from my high and open my eyes to see him sitting next to me with a satisfied look on his face. He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me rough and deep, I almost thought he was going to suck the soul out of me. He begins to trail down and down until he’s back between my legs and tugging at my panties. “Bri, what about you?” I say as I look at the painfully visible hard on in his underwear. He presses a finger to my lips and hushes me.

“No darling, tonight is all about you. Your pleasure is my pleasure.” He throws my underwear with all the other loose miscellaneous clothing articles and looks almost hypnotized by my bare core displayed before him. “Gorgeous,” was the last thing I heard from him before he planted a few kisses onto my clit, then he took his tongue and took a few long strokes from the bottom to the top very, very slowly.

“Oh fuck. More Brian. Please I want more!” I felt him smile against me as his tongue became more pointed, tracing all about my folds then sucking hard on my clit making me pulsate hard. His arms were wrapped around my thighs and pulling me in closer and tighter to his face. “God your mouth feels so fucking good on me Bri, you’re gonna make me cum again.” My eyes were rolled back into my head as I felt the heat building in my navel as Q focused in on my clit, lapping, sucking, and swirling his tongue all around it until I released all over his face. He finally pulled away, licking his lips, the scruff on his face was damp with my liquid ecstasy and it turned me on more.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum darling, the way your jaw hangs open, your pretty little whines, and watching your eyes roll back in your head is enough to make me almost blow in my boxers baby.” He crawls up to me and captures my lips, giving me just a subtle taste of myself. I finally unclasp my bra and it’s tossed aside just like everything else, it felt like a wave of relief. “Now, let’s get something inside of you sweetheart.” His fingers were now rubbing against my entrance and slowly he slid a thick finger into me.

“Oh shit.” I huff at the sensation. His fingers were without a doubt thicker than mine, and god did they feel so good. He watched each of my reactions carefulle, observing as my chest rose and fell with each movement of his hand. His head craned down and attached his lips to one of my nipples, swirling his tongue around it and taking my nipple between his teeth and gently biting it. “Oh my god Brian, you make me feel so fucking good, faster please, I need more.” My hips buck into his hand, he smiles and happily obliges and watches as his now slick fingers slip in and out of me at a faster rate.

“Baby, I can’t wait to fuck you until your legs are shaking and you can’t walk, can’t wait to feel your juices dripping down your thighs all because of me, can’t wait until I fuck you until you can’t speak anymore.” His lust filled words served only to push me further to another climax, being as sensitive as I was, it wasn’t all that hard. His fingers worked magically within me, hitting each spot that made my arch back and my lungs expel heated breaths of excitement. Words were slowly becoming hard to form as I was tipped over the edge without so much as a warning, only whines and moans were the only noise I could get out of me. As he helped me ride through another high, he roughly kisses me and grinds himself against my thigh, I smile against his lips and rub my hand against the tent in his boxers and feel a wet spot where the tip of his cock was. He groans and I see a wave of slight embarrassment wash over him as he sees that I know he came in his boxers.

“That’s so fucking hot Bri.” He lights up and smiles, I pull my lips close to his ear, “Now, I want to give you some relief. I want you to keep that promise and fuck me til’ i’m shaking.” I climb on top of him and grind my hips against his. His hands grab at my hips and his head falls back at the sensation.

“Your wish is my command, lovely.” He rustles through his night stand and grabs out a condom as I pull his boxers off his body and his erection springs to life outside of the confines of his underwear. He slips it on and lines himself up. I rub my entrance against the head of his cock and take my lip between my teeth in anticipation. “Sink down baby.” And I do. I slowly lower myself and feel as he stretches me wider and wider the deeper down I go. I feel tears forming in my eyes because this is all slowly becoming too much for me to handle, but I love it so much. “I can feel you dripping on my thighs already, you’re so wet, so tight, so perfect.” His hands smooth over the sides of my body and stop at my hips and give them a little squeeze. With a gasp, I begin to rise and fall atop of Q, feeling as he slips in and out of me in the most delicious way. My hands reach back to his thighs so I keep my balance as my hips work faster daring to reach another high.

“Q… Bri… Feels. So good… Fuck.” I gasp out as my eyes screw shut taking in the sensation of the sweat beading on my forehead and upper lip, the burning sensation in my thighs from cumming over and over, Q’s hands that keep wandering all over my naked body sending shockwaves through my nerves, and the feeling of his now slick cock inside of me. “I’m… So sensitive… Gonna…” My hips drop down as my legs begin to tremble as I cum once again, a strained whine being the only noise I feel capable of making. I feel my body begin to slow down and Q flips us over, laying me back on the bed and him hovering above me.

“One more time baby, just one more time. For me please.” He starts thrusting harshly into me, exuding a string of incoherent moans and whines as he sought to chase his own high. His hair was pressed against his forehead and face contorted in pleasure. Picturesque and beautiful. I had my hands placed on his shoulders and I felt as his muscles tensed with each groan. “Please baby girl i’m so close, look at what you do to me. I’m such a mess for you. God you feel so good. Just for me. All because of me. I’m gonna–” His rambles came to an end with a final thrust into me, it was enough to send me over the edge one last time and we both collapsed onto the bed, the cushioning of it cradling our now sore bodies. Heat radiated off of our skin, the steam of our body creating a sheen of sweat that coated both of us. My body felt spent beyond belief and it was a sensation I had never before experienced. Satisfaction. I look down and see him lying on top of me, head resting on my sternum, panting and smirking, neck and chest littered with an array of beautiful hickeys left by yours truly. I caught a glimpse of my own body and saw a similar display and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think I can confidently say I have never experienced anything like that before.” I rake my fingers through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead and petting him like a sweet puppy. His fingers danced across my skin, giving me goosebumps.

“Would you say that your lustful thirst has been quenched my darling?” He asked in a hoarse voice. I hum in response with a smirk. “Good. It’s what you deserve… You know, I have never blown a load in my pants like that. Not since high school at least.” His eyes met mine and I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest.

“Guess tonight was just a night of firsts for us, huh?” We both laugh together and he leans up and captures my lips in a sweet kiss, but I push things a little further as I slip my tongue into his mouth. He quickly pulls away, cocks his eyebrow, and his lips curve into a smile.

“Are you trying to hint at something?”

“And what if I am? Can’t keep up Quinn?”

“At least take me to dinner first!” He says in an exaggerated tone and a hand against his chest.

“That can be arranged. I’d love that actually. For now, round two. It’s my turn to torment you though.” I say pumping his cock back to life with a devilish smirk.

“You’re on.”

#brian ''q'' quinn #brian quinn #q #Q x reader #smut #suki writes

[notgonnarememberthis]

today (of all days) - pt. 3

Hello!! I’m not gonna lie this chapter was a,,, problem. I struggled with ideas for so long but I finally landed on something I like!! This hiatus has been killer on my inspiration for writing but I’m determined to finish this! Hope y’all enjoy!

Gil is barely home for 5 minutes when a knock resounds through the apartment. After a couple of drinking celebrating his promotion to lieutenant, he’s feeling a bit fuzzy headed when he pulls the door open. Jessica stands in the center a bottle in hand and a dazzling smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Surprise!” She squeals. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the actual celebration, Ainsley practically hugged my leg refusing to let me leave until I read to her.” Gil smiles despite the obvious lie. He knows the truth, that she can’t be around all those officers. Looks of suspicion or pity on their faces as they stare at her. 

“That’s alright Jess.” He chuckles stepping aside for her to come in. She sweeps in with all the grace she can, immediately stepping into his kitchen and retrieving the glasses. She knows where they are by now, that should make him laugh but when he sees the bottle again after she sets it on the counter he stops in his tracks.

“Oh, Malcolm wants to go out with you to celebrate your promotion too. I thought it’d be nice for it to just be the two of you and Ainsley and I could have a mommy daughter day.”

“I’d like that.” He says, only half paying attention to what she’s saying. He can see it now, the way her shoulders are knotted, like an invisible string is the only thing keeping her upright. Her flowing steps are more controlled than usual, extra precautions taken to not see her even stumble.

He follows her to the couch where he pours them both a drink. She doesn’t down the first like she normally would on nights like these. He wonders if this is her first drink. “Are you listening?”

He blinks, caught in his analysis. “No, sorry.”

“Ainsley has her first competition of the season in three weeks. You’ll make it right?”

“Of course. How can I miss New York’s most promising young figure skater?” He sees the spark in her eye just before it fades. A momentary happiness before being drowned out by whatever is on her mind.

“Good because she hasn’t stopped talking about showing off the new spiral she learned.” She doesn’t meet his eyes as she’s speaking. It’s a rambling sort, where she’s saying literally anything that’s on her mind rather than getting to the heart of the issue. It takes until he finishes this drink to bring himself to stop her.

“Jess, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?” She smiles, the one she saves for reporters and on her worse days, her children.

“You haven’t even been able to look at me for the past fifteen minutes.” 

“That’s not true.” “Then look at me.” She purses her lips, tilting her head before she finally meets his gaze. Almost immediately her mask falls apart, tears building in her eyes as she struggles to hold eye contact. “What happened?”

“Nothing. It’s ridiculous.”

“Not to me.” She drops her head into her free hand, eyes settling on the amber liquid in her glass. “Jessica, talk to me.”

She sighs, but relents, “I ran into an old friend.”

“Oh?”

“His name is Thomas, we grew up together basically. Gave our parents hell in the way only two children of stupidly wealthy families can.”

“Hard to imagine you being rowdy.”

“Oh, I had a whole rebel faze in high school.” She laughs and he joins in. “We would sneak out, drink on the hood of his car, act gloriously stupid.”

“Jess,”

“He’s different. We both are. He took over his father’s business, would’ve been my parent’s dream match for me. Maybe that’s why I was excited to see him again.” She places her glass at the table frantically wiping her eyes before the tears fell. “I could’ve made it right.”

“It’s not your job to make it right.”

“I know.” She sighs. “It just felt like a sign? When I talked to him it was just like old times. He didn’t treat me like-”

“Like the Surgeon’s ex-wife.”

“Exactly.” She picks up her drink again, maybe just for something to cling to. “Well, Adolpho did some digging. Turns out Thomas has an exclusive deal with Barbara Walters.”

“She was using him to get a story.” She nods her head tilted down as her shoulders begin to shake. “I’m so sorry Jess.”

“I just” She sniffs trying to take a deep breath to control the tears. “I thought this was different. Someone finally taking interest in me, not the Whitlys.” She spits the name with a venom she hadn’t before. Long ago she explained why she kept the last name. Now he wonders if she regrets her choice. “Feels stupid now.��

“It wasn’t stupid Jess.” He puts his drink down, reaching to her slowly. He places his hands on her arms.

“Most days I’m fine. I have all I need in my life with Malcolm and Ainsley and-” Her eyes dart away at the almost confession. He tries not to hope that she was going to finish that sentence with you. “But I’m so lonely. But nobody wants to be with the ex-wife of a serial killer.”

“That’s not all you are.”

“That’s all they see me as.”

“Not to me.” She stops, her eyes going wide for a second. 

She takes a deep, shaky breath. Her voice is so quiet it's like she’s afraid to ask. “What do you see?”

He runs his hands down her arms scooting closer. “I see an amazing mother. One who gives up everything to make sure her kids are happy. One who hunted down therapist after therapist for one Malcolm felt comfortable with and never gave up. One who talks about her kids for half an hour before even thinking about herself.” She smiles, a soft broken smile. “I see someone who’s resilient and strong. Hell, I still keep the mental image of when you punched the journalist who tried to talk to Malcolm.”

“Not my best moment.”

“I beg to differ.” He chuckles. “I see your passion. You want to help people, even if they don’t want your help. You’re a good person Jess.”

“Tell that to Barbara Walters.”

“She doesn’t know you. Not like we do. You are tough as hell, and beautiful too.” Her breath catches in her throat at that. He wonders how long it’s been since anyone has called her beautiful. A heavy silence falls over the room. He opens his mouth again but before he can continue her lips are on his.

It feels like his entire mind short circuits for a second. He’d thought of kissing her about a hundred times but never could he think of acting on it. He wishes he could catalogue every feeling but she pulls away too soon.

Her eyes are wide and guilty. A fresh sort of shame washes over him as well, thinking maybe she regrets it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s ok Jess.” “You’re a good man and for a second I just wanted to pretend like I could ever deserve someone like you.”

“Jess.”

“You are so good to my family. Malcolm thinks of you like a father and god how could I jeopardize that?”

“Jessica.”

“I’m so sorry can we-” He cuts her off by cupping her face with both hands and pulling her to him. She tenses when her lips touch his, hands hovering in between them. She relaxes when his thumb runs gently over her cheekbone and she knots her fingers into the front of his turtleneck.

He thinks he could stay there forever, just kissing her. Relishing in the feeling of her nails combing through his hair. She deepens the kiss pulling a groan from the depth of his chest. He feels her smile and laugh against his mouth and he moves a hand to her hip to pull her even closer.

She seems to have a better idea when she pulls away, only for a second to swing her leg over his lap straddling him. He doesn’t even have time to react before she’s kissing him again. He runs his fingers through her curls, they’re as soft as he thought they would be. When her tongue swipes across his he can taste the bourbon and a hint of vodka on her lips.

The confirmation of what he thought earlier is like being doused in freezing water. He pulls away but she immediately goes to attack his neck instead. “Jess.” He runs his hands over her back trying to get her attention. She only makes an inquisitive sound in response. “We’re drunk.” She hums in confirmation as if that was the most obvious thing. “Jess, stop.”

She pulls away and he watches the guilt appear again. “You’re right.”

“No, listen.” He brushes back the hair that fell in front of her face. “I want this, but I want you to want this when you’re sober.”

“I do.”

“Then we will try this again later. Why don’t you take my bed again tonight?” 

“Only if you come with.” He tilts his head in disapproval as she stands, slightly uneven on her feet. She raises her hands sticking on her bottom lip. “No funny business, I promise.” Her expression changes, growing more serious. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Fine.” He relents and her smile reappears. “But no funny business.”

“I promise.”

When they settle into bed Jessica is once again wearing one of his shirts. He’s beginning to wonder if she doesn’t bring spare clothes for the purpose of stealing his t-shirts on nights they get drunk. He decides he doesn’t mind when she turns, placing her head on his chest listening to his heart until it lulls her to sleep.

The next morning when he wakes up she’s already gone. He spies the note on his nightstand with her careful swirling handwriting.

Belluci’s, tonight at 8. Wear something nice.

XO, Jessica

#gilica #prodigal son #jessica whitly x gil arroyo #gil arroyo x jessica whitly #jessica x gil #jessica whitly #gil arroyo #5+1 Things #5+1 fic #notgonnarememberthis fics #fanfic #prodigal son AU #gilssica #today (of all days) #today (of all days) pt 3 #today (of all days) part 3

[passionate-hedgehog]

Impasse

Impasse is a 3-part series revolving around Reader entering society in Regency-Era London. Completely inspired by me binging the entirety of Bridgerton in less than 24 hours, Impasse will end with either Duke Damien Haas x Reader, or Courtney Miller x Reader.

♥Part 1♥

Pairings: Eventual Damien Haas x Reader, Eventual Courtney Miller x Reader

Warnings: None, lovelies

Word Count: 1433

A/N: I got an anon req for a Courtney Miller x Reader fluff, but then this happened...and it’s bigger than it was meant to be...I’m well aware that I’m tagging names that aren’t in this installment of Impasse. But just wait! They’ll be in the next two parts. This will be a 3 part series only. It will not be updated every day. But my prompt notebook series will be a “filler”. If you’ve watched Bridgerton, then can we be friends and discuss the ending?????? OMG. Enjoy♥

The town square was a-flood with decorations for upcoming festivities. The tall posts of oil lamps were strung with vines covered in roses. Streets and walkways were swept clean regularly in hopes that those with higher society ranks would make their way through and be impressed. Building fronts were wiped, banisters were polished, windows were crystal clear. Excitement was buzzing all around for the beginning of The Season.

The House of Topp was alight with anticipation. The youngest of the twins, Y/n, had been prepping to come out to society. She was beyond that of the average age for girls to enter the court. Most of the time, this would bring a disadvantage to the families, joining society so late. To Y/n, however, this would only make her more assured.

 Viscountess Topp had long-since passed, moments after delivering her youngest children; Shayne and Y/n. They lived with their father and also their eldest brother, Ian. Once Ian grew to be a man respectable in age and career, Viscount Topp left the household for business quite some years later. He never returned, but often wrote to recount his family on all of the happenings amongst himself and his work. Rumors flew, as they often do in society, that the Viscount found a new love, maybe even sired more children. Of course, the household of Topp denied all and every rumor. 

       Many in society had been waiting to see what had become of The Honorable Y/n Topp.

----

The young housemaid fretfully knocked on the bedroom door in an attempt to wake the sleeping woman on the other side. “Miss Y/n! You must get up and begin the preparations for today’s event! Miss Y/n? Please! You know how much work has to be put in for you to be presented in front of Queen Charlotte. Miss Y/n?”

“Step aside, Caroline. You’ll never get her to respond with such a mollified tone.” The head housekeeper turned from the young woman to the white oak door separating the two servants from the slumbering girl. “Miss Y/n! You must wake up this instant! I will NOT sit by and let you squander your chances to withhold your family’s honor and pride. You have until the next ringing of the church bell before you’re bottom is sitting down in the day room for your morning tea. Do I make myself clear?”

The housekeeper walked away leaving Caroline in wait for her charge. But soon enough, Y/n emerged from her quarters. The two looked at each other and giggled.

“One of these days she’s going to rip the door off of the wall,” Y/n said as she raked her fingers through her hair while the two women made their way to the day room. 

“I can’t imagine how any of your future children will behave, with a mother that likes to test the patience of the help.” Caroline tittered.

“Caroline…” Y/n looked at her with a mark of disdain.

“My apologies, Miss Y/n. I know your stance on having a baby. I just can’t help it sometimes. I’ve known you since we were in leading-strings.”

This caused Y/n to smile ever so softly. “Back when it was the three of us against the world.”

“I know you miss her, M’lady. I do, too. But our friend is doing what she loves. Surrounded by what she loves. That is what’s important to the story.” Caroline laid a gentle hand on her arm.

“When did you get so wise, my dearest friend?”

The cocked eyebrow should have been enough of an answer. “You have never worked for someone like you.”

After entering the day room, Y/n approached her family, giving them kisses on the tops of their heads. “Good morning, Big Brother. I hope you slept well.”

Ian put down the articles he had been reading to make eye contact with his sister. “Are we talking quantity or quality?”

“Hmm, I suppose that question means you did not. Please don’t work yourself into an early grave. Shayne will let this home fall to rubble.” Y/n took a seat next to her twin, setting into her fruit platter and tea.

“Pardon me, dear sister? What makes you think you could fair any better?” Shayne turned to his sister, flicking her elbow.

“Oh, I’m sure it would be just as disastrous. That is why our brother needs to retire at a decent time tonight. We know he’s not off gallivanting about trying to raise a raucous, nor does he acquire the skill of stealth. We know he’s not leaving after the sun leaves. He’s working. He’s working for us and our home. But sometimes he works too much.” Y/n stood up from where she was sitting. “I’m off to become presentable for her majesty. Ian, dearest brother, please take better care of yourself. At least for this night. You deserve it.”

---

It is tradition, that when a young woman presenting to the queen, that they are to be accompanied by their mother, or governess. While Y/n had neither of those, she was not shy about her intentions. She walked down the carpet with a smile befitting a crown of daisies and baby’s breath. She kept her head up to the onlookers, but her eyes down, to the feet of the queen.

Her majesty had sounded rather curious but ultimately pleased with what was before her. She gave her pleasant regards to the curtseying young woman and waved her away, waiting for the next one.

Y/n and her handmaid stood to the side of the room, patiently waiting along with the others to be sent out. Her job for the day was done. The next morning would bring her callers, potential matches for marriage. While the act was what she knew she was getting into, it was one she most detested. Y/n watched her eldest brother work to the bone for most of his life. Ian would have to find and wed someone capable of being with him as he carried on the family name. Her twin, Shayne, didn’t have such responsibilities. He was free to join military ranks, or travel, or receive the highest education. He had spoken on the latter quite often, but Y/n guessed that he was too worried to leave his only family behind. But Y/n? Her duties were as they always were and would be for the firstborn daughters; to enter society and be wed to someone with financial status. She would carry on the name of her husband and raise children for him. It was a fate that she often fought with herself over. How could she be a mother when she didn’t have one next to her in her whole life? How could she be a decent parent when her own father left his family behind to do God knows what in God knows where?

Arriving back at the manor, Y/n and Caroline made their ways back to the drawing-room, to share discourse with her twin. She had wanted to share her experience of presenting to the queen with Shayne, maybe share a joke about the others. She wasn’t expecting, however, to meet more than her twin standing at the tea table. 

“Lord Haas?” Caroline raised her eyebrows as her charge choked on her words.

“Miss Y/n. How lovely to see you again!” The Duke walked up to Y/n, bowing in front of her. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

The two young women shared a quick look before they both turned their attention back to the men standing before them. “I...thank you, Lord Haas. I had to put on everything to meet the queen today. I’m honored that you think so highly of my efforts and the efforts of my maids. I’m surprised to see you here, however. Your duties as a duke have left you some spare time?”

“As a matter of fact, I came here today to speak with Ian. I have a...question...I’d like to present to him. Is he around?” The Duke held his hands behind his back while peering around the room.

Shayne spoke up. “He had to run a quick business errand. He should be back before nightfall. Would you care to stay until then? We can catch up.”

“Thank you, dear friend, that sounds perfect.” The man turned to Y/n and gave a nod. “I look forward to seeing you during my stay here in town. I believe it will be even brighter, now.”

#smosh #smosh fanfic #smosh fan fiction #damien haas #shayne topp #ian hecox #courtney miller #noah grossman #olivia sui #courtney miller x reader #damien haas x reader

[mackeydoodledoo]

Who Knows

Part 2 to the "Not So Cold After All" Series!

Pairing: Jade Thirlwall x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You were a very caring child, no matter how many times mean kids would try and discourage you. However, there was one in particular girl that caught your eye; Jade Thirlwall, she'd always drive your bullies away, but would always act sour around you. However, years, many years go by and you practically forget about your "Barely Notices You" crush however, your paths cross again, when you realize you are Little Mixs' touring bassist, seeing Jade for the first time in years, resurfacing some unspoken love.

Warnings: Angst(?)

A/N: This is in 1st person, Bold = Thoughts, Italics = Singing

"Not So Cold After All" Live Band Mini Setlist

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

As Jesy, Perrie, Leigh-Anne and Jade seat Laura, Jax, Beca and I, Jade and I catch a glimpse at each other and she gives a small wave at me. Not thinking of how to greet her back, I wink at her. I look at Laura and she gives me a face. A face I recognize as her saying; "Get her b**ch!" I kick her leg and and winces but tries not to make it noticeable. 

"So along with out supporting group," the tour manager starts, "As for the final show of the tour tonight, the girls and myself would like to showcase our live bands' skills." 

Laura and I are taken aback, whilst Jax and Becca are all for the idea. 

"So like...." Laura questions, "Each and every one of us plays a song of our choosing?" 

"Thats correct," Jade answers, "You okay with that?" 

"Yeah I was thinking we'd play a whole song together as a band, that plays instruments," she replies 

Not knowing how to properly word it, Laura leaves it at that. 

"What if, I’m just thinking out loud here. We end up doing a short setlist?" I ask, noticing Jade look at me like I'm insane 

"Thats fine by me," Tour Manager says, "Good thinking." 

“Are you singing Y/N?” Jade asks

“Oh, good heavens no,” I answer, “I don’t sing. That’s all to Laura.”

Once the meeting was finished, I begin walking back to my car to the hotel Laura and I were staying in, I feel a tap on my shoulder. 

"Hey you," Jade says as I turn around 

"Hey," I say, smiling 

This is the first time she actually has come up to me in years. We've caught glimpses of each other during shows, rehearsals and we'd both greet each other at the same time but neither of us had the chance to really catch up. 

"You maybe want to grab some lunch on the way back to the hotel?" She asks 

I look to Laura for an approval and she... Again gives me that same face from earlier. 

"Sure," I smile 

I hop into the driver's seat as Jade gets into the passenger seat. Laura hops in the back, hijacking the aux chord. She puts on some acapella music and the both of us jam out while Jade laughs at us. 

As soon as we got back to the hotel, I tell both Laura and Jade to eat without me, that I need to go talk to Jax and Becca. I go knock on her door. 

"What’s up shorty?" She laughs 

"Very funny," I chuckle, "How would you two feel about performing a three part setlist for our little portion of the show?" 

"Really?" She asks 

I nod,  "Well, I think having 3 songs that feature all of us is a cool idea and the encore song could be a song I really like and I think it'd fit and it would show how well we can all sound as a band. Though we aren't really a band. Also, I think I'm going to sing lead for this one. I have to talk to Laura about that." 

"So you want us to help you so you can impress your crush?" She asks 

I nod, blushing at the fact Jade is my crush, “Don’t tell her I’m going to sing lead.”

"We're in and your secret’s safe with us," she smiles, "Did you tell Laura yet?" 

"Not yet," I answer, "Jade's in there." 

We fist bump and I go back to my room, where Jade and Laura are almost finished eating, but they put on some music. 

"What'd you talk to Jax for?" Laura asks 

"Nothing special," I say 

I seat myself next to Jade and begin eating. As I listen to Jade and Laura talk about our beginnings and how Laura and I started out as a band. 

"Wait," Jade starts, "You two were drunk?!" 

I nod in agreement as I almost choke on my food. As I look at Jade, a spark flies across my body as her thumb gently runs across my cheek. She giggles as she licks the piece of lettuce (and mayo) right off her thumb. I shake my gawk off and laugh with her. 

"So you're called-" 

"Saints of Starlight," I answer 

"That's actually a pretty dope name," she smiles 

"Thank Y/N for that one," Laura states, "She was high off her ass and she managed to spot that name for us." 

"Somehow I was conscious enough for that," I smile, finishing my food

We end up playing a game of "Cards against Humanity" and so far Laura is in the lead: I’m horrible at card games. Games in general.

By the time we nearly get through all of the cards, a knock comes onto our door. 

"Jade?" Jesy calls from the other side of the door 

"Yeah Jess?" She calls back 

"You ready to go?" She asks 

And it hit Jade, she was supposed to get dressed for a birthday party for Leigh-Anne. 

"Is Y/N and Laura invited?" Jade asks 

"Jade," I whisper, "We don't have to go. It'll be fine." 

"Oh for sure," Leigh-Anne says 

Jade gets up and helps us clean up the cards before going to her room to change into a nice outfit. Laura and I do the same. I manage to shove on my 2019 indoor drumline season uniform; 1940s style detective outfit. Suspenders n all. However, the only thing that didn't go with my fit were my shoes. They were Doc Marten brand boots. However, I believed it was a nice subtle touch to my black m white outfit. I wait outside the door for Laura and for Jade. 

"Oh well Y/N can sure clean up nice," Jesy teases, "Jade's gonna have a kick looking at that." Jesy points to all of me as Jade comes walking down the hall. 

"Y/N?" Jade calls out 

I turn to her. I smile and wave over to her as Laura opens the door and reveals a casual-formal outfit. 

"You sure look nice Y/N," Jade blushes as she catches up to us 

"You too," I say, "Well, you look beautiful." 

We follow the rest of the Little Mix members and Laura out to hail a cab to a bar that Jesy, Perrie and Jade had rented out for the evening.  There was barely enough room for all of us to fit into the cab. As I seat myself next to Jesy, Jade hops right into my lap. 

"A little warning next time," I gasp, but laugh 

"Sorry," she smiles, "Your lap is the only good seat in here." 

My face turns into a ball of flame as I look at Jade, who laughs at my face. Two can play at that Game. Her guard was down as I slowly and gently coil my fingers around Jade's waist as the cab driver drives off. I look up at Jade's face and it was just like mine not even 20 seconds ago. I laugh as do Jesy, Perrie and Leigh-Anne. Laura gave me "the look" as I subtly make and "ok" with my hand. 

We reach the bar and its practically filled with party-goers and we walk upstairs to a VIP room and I seat myself next to Jade. 

"You really know how to pull some strings to get us a room," Leigh-Anne says to her girls 

"We are extra," Perrie states 

We order a couple of drinks and within those said drinks, I notice Jesy already drunk. She begins ranting on about how much fun everything is and how excited she is to see Laura and I play for them. 

"Yeah what do you guys have planned?" Jade asks, looking intently at me 

"Well," I clear my throat, "You lot are just going to have to see." 

I look at Laura to not spoil anything and that I'll explain to her later once we head back to the hotel. 

After helping Jesy to her hotel room and getting her to drink water and eat bread and get her to bed, I help Jade get to hers. 

"You know," Jade starts, "You're really fun to hang out with. Why haven't we done that more often?" 

"Well," I start, "You were always cold to me and always turned down my invitations to hang out. Though, that never phased me and I've always kept on trying to get you to hang out with me." I look over to Jade, who's clearly looks and feels guilty. 

"Well," I add, "Like I said, it never really hurt me when you turned them down. That's because you saved me." 

Jade again looks up at me. 

"Do you remember when there were bullies in elementary school and you always managed to scare them off. Little did you know that little kid you saved-" 

"Was you?" She asks 

I nod, "However, when we did finally become friends, you ended up going to audition for Britain's got Talent? Or something like that. So I guess you ended up forgetting about me. But then again, I moved to America." 

"Sorry love," she says, "A lot of people come and go in my life. However, you're the first one who came back around." 

"Yeah," I sigh, "Well, goodnight. See you tomorrow." 

Before I stand to leave her room, she wraps her arms around my waist and her face pressed gently against my back. 

"Thank you," she says before her grip loosening on me 

"Always," I say, leaving her room 

As I close the door to my hotel room with Laura, she looks at me. 

“Okay, listen," I say, "So I already talked to Jax and Becca, and they agreed that we do a 3-song setlist when they want us to perform." 

"So," Laura asks, "Are you singing lead or am I?" 

"That's a good question," I say, "Well, I arranged the mini setlist and I have this." 

I show Laura the mini setlist I made on my YouTube page and she nods in agreement to play this setlist for tomorrow.

"I just want to sing the last song," I suggest, "That one specifically is basically saying what could have been with someone." 

"Oh so is that song gonna be for Jade?" She asks, making "that look" 

"Yeah," I exhale, “Also, don’t tell Jade I'm going to sing the last song.”

"Okay," Laura answers

We both head to bed, for the big night tomorrow; showcasing a live band.

I catch Jade just about to leave her hotel room and she waits for me as I catch up to her. 

"Sleep alright?" I ask 

She nods, "Hungry?" She holds up a banana and a breakfast muffin 

"Yeah, thanks love," I say, taking the items, "You know, bananas are a great source of potassium. I always eat one before I do a competition. Both high school marching band and indoor winter percussion." 

"You did all of those?" She asks. I nod 

"When I did my first year of marching band I got talked into doing indoor percussion for the winter time. Best decision ever," I say, hopping into a cab with Jade following suit 

"You have to tell me how you did all of them and if you have any good stories," Jade smiles 

"Well," I smile, "I have many stories that can be saved for another night." 

Jade pouts as we exit the cab to enter the venue. Fans and paparazzi immediately circle around Jade, nearly pushing me out of the way to get to her. 

"Y/N!" Jade calls out 

I nearly wrestle a couple of fans and paparazzi and reach out for Jade. I feel a strong tug and Jade buries herself into my jacket. I hold Jade close as fans begin to make a path for her and I to walk into the venue. 

"You guys are chaotic," I say, glaring at the Paparazzi specifically 

I push the doors to walk inside, "You alright?" 

Jade nods as she lets go of me and walks over to her girls. 

"I saw that," Laura teases, "What happened out there anyway?" 

"A bunch of fans and paparazzi," I answer, "They practically pushed me away from Jade." 

"You fought people?" She asks 

"No, I was close to though," I reply, "I just was sick of fans and paparazzi not giving the girls space." 

Laura nods as their tour manager comes up to us, "Jade needs time to cool down so go ahead and rehearse first you guys." 

"How is she?" I ask 

"Shaken up but she'll be alright," he answers 

I sigh in relief, having temptation to go check on her, but I assure myself that Jesy, Perrie and Leigh-Anne have gotten Jade calmed down. I go back to rehearsal. 

"Jade," Jesy calls out, bringing me back 

Jade's POV

As I inhale and exhale, Jesy, Perrie and Leigh-Anne comforting me, I could hear a singing voice. Is it Becca? Laura? Even Y/N? No, Y/N even said it herself, she doesn't sing. 

"Yeah?" I look at her 

"You feeling better love?" She asks and I nod 

I continue listening to that singing voice. Regardless if it was either Becca, Laura or even Y/N, they're bloody talented. 

"Do you hear that voice out on stage?" I ask the girls 

"Yeah," Perrie answers, "That voice is bloody f**clinging talented." 

"Do you think it's Y/N?" Leigh-Anne suggests 

"It couldn't be," I smile, "Y/N told me she doesn't sing. She only does backing vocals. But she never sings lead." 

"If you say so Jade," she replies 

"Just wait until Jade sees you," Laura teases 

Y/N's POV

I sing the last line with Laura and Becca. I stop the sound of my bass and wipe sweat from the sides of my head with my shirt and begin stripping. I tuck my shirt in my back pocket. 

"Shut the f**k up Laura," I laugh, "I'm toasty. Okay, so how do we feel about that?" 

I get OK's from everyone and I put on a song from one of my playlists, having a gut feeling Jade is going to come back any moment, I don't sing. I didn’t even intentionally pick the song; Black Magic by Little Mix. Instinctively, we all manage to play through however long we decided to play until we were moved to the back for Little Mixs’ rehearsal.

 I put on my button down shirt and leave a couple of buttons unbuttoned, to give my lesbian look. I tuck my shirt into my pants and roll up my sleeves. I roll them up just enough for them to not interfere with my hands.

“Jesy was right,” Jade says

I look up and smile.

“You really do clean up nicely,” She adds, walking toward me

“Might as well look good for the occasion,” I reply back, “And you look exquisite.”

I see Jade’s cheeks flush a deep pink as she comes even closer, “Would you want to get dinner after the show tonight?”

“Wouldn’t it be late?” I ask

“Some places here are open late too,” She replies back, hugging me from behind

“I’m down,” I reply, lacing my fingers with hers

“If you’re gonna get it on, get a separate room and keep it quiet,” Laura teases from the doorway

“Laura shut up,” I sigh

“Band’s warming up Y/N,” Laura finally says

Jade lets go of my hips and she places a kiss onto my cheek, “Good luck Y/N.”

“You too Jade,” I reply, returning the same kiss, but onto her forehead

As the lights go down and the fans cheer.... Not only for Little Mix, but us too. 

"Hey guys, we're Little Mixs' live band. We are so honored to be playing as an actual band for their tour as well." Laura says into the microphone

Laura begins singing the first verse as I slide my left hand up the bass neck to where I need to go for it. At the song’s climax, I watch Laura hit the high note Colby Benson usually sings when she sings this particular song live. Laura turns to me as the fans scream and cheer for that high note and I cheer too. I look to the side stage as the women of Little Mix watch us hype the crowd. I wink particularly at Jade.

 When Laura sings the last note of the second song, she steps away from the mic as I step in her place.

“This song,” I start, “Is no original, but by one of the coolest girl bands in California. But this goes out to a special person. Although we never dated and never had those ups and downs of a relationship, I felt something between us two. That was a long time ago however, the both of us drifted apart in that time. We were both the ones that got away, but, she showed up into my life again. And that something I began feeling for her, came back.”

Jade’s POV

I watch as Y/N gives her speech. I felt Jesy touch my shoulder, as I begin to think of who that person was in Y/N’s life all that time ago.

Y/N’s POV

I subtly turn my head to side stage, using my eyes to further my eye contact and Jade meets mine. I smile at her and turn my head to the microphone

I listen to Becca as she plays the opening riff. Jax begins playing her drum part;

Oh no, I'm feeling you watching me

Same way you did when we were seventeen

Dim lights, this bar was alright

Until I saw a ghost of you

I look to Becca and she nods, hinting that I’m doing a good job thus far, I inhale and exhale, close my eyes for a split second and open my eyes.

You tried to pull me closer

I start to fall again

Tell me you still remember

'Cause I remember

Jax has us enter the chorus as we begin getting into the music.

Baby, we were fire in the rain

Burning through the night just to fade

When you say, "I could have loved you longer"

Who knows where we could have gone? 

It's a lie if we stay

Living for the past and the pain

When you say, "I could have loved you longer"

Who knows where we could have gone?

As I continue singing on through the song, I look over to Jesy, Jade, Perrie and Leigh-Anne as they watch me sing; they look like they’ve just seen a ghost, but then cheer me on. Except for Jade; whose arms are against her chest, smiling excessively at me. I smile back. 

Who knows what we should have done?

(Who knows) Who knows where we could have gone?

(Who knows) Who knows what we would have done?

(Who knows, who knows?)

The crowd cheers as I hit the high note and I notice from the corner of my eye that the girls were cheering too.

You tried to pull me closer

I start to fall again

Tell me you still remember

Where we could have gone, whoa, oh

As I sing the last note with Laura and Becca, Jesy, Jade, Perrie and Leigh-Anne run onto the stage as I walk back to put my bass on my stand. Jade in particular looks at me. 

Who knows what we should have done?

(Who knows) Who knows where we could have gone?

(Who knows) Who knows what we would have done?

(Who knows, who knows?)

(Who knows) Who knows what we should have done?

(Who knows) Who knows where we could have gone?

(Who knows) Who knows what we would have done?

(Who knows, who knows?)

“You did a bang up job Y/N!” Jesy screams into her microphone

“I thought you didn’t sing?” Perrie asks

“Listen,” I smile, “I wanted to surprise y’all.”

It worked too, Little Mix was thoroughly impressed.

As we go into an interlude to give us a small break and for Little Mix to change into their encore outfits, I notice Jade was tense.

“You’re usually hyper love,” I say, sitting next to her, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she says, “My family isn’t here. They always come to our shows.”

Before I could say anything, Jade’s phone rings. She immediately picks it up and answers.

“Hello?” she asks through the phone

I couldn’t hear what was going on on her phone, but I could tell Jade was getting even more tense. Jesy, Perrie and Leigh-Anne try to comfort her but to no avail.

“Would any of you be mad if I leave?” Jade asks, “It’s a family emergency.”

Immediately the girls said yes. However, the tour manager was reluctant.

“Laura and I could do something,” I suggest, “We explain to the fans what’s going on and why Jade isn’t on stage. The fans are sure to understand Jade.” 

Laura agrees with me, as do Jax and Becca. I follow Jade to help her out with getting her out of her outfit to change back into her outside clothing. I follow Jade out through the back as I hail a cab.

“I might have to take a raincheck on that dinner date Y/N,” Jade says, sorrowfully, “I also might not see you off tomorrow either. I was really hoping to spend more time with you and-”

“Don’t worry about that right now Jade,” I force a smile, “Just go make sure whomever family member is okay. Do that for me.”

She nods as I close the door for her. I watch the cab drive off into the cityscape. I could feel an overwhelming need to sob my eyes out however, nothing came out. 

“Y/N!” Laura says running out the door, “You okay?”

I force myself to nod, “Yeah-Yeah I’m fine.”

“The fans agreed to having a one-song encore, featuring Saints of Starlight,” Laura states

I nod as she walks back into the door while I take one last glimpse of the cityscape Jade disappeared into and then force myself to step back into the venue.

 The encore goes well, however, most fans left but we understood that. It was a quiet drive back to the hotel as all of us just go to our hotel rooms. 

“You're clearly not okay Y/N,” Laura states, “Spill it.”

“I understand her situation but,” I start, “I just feel like my 10 year old self again when I moved to the states. Missing Jade but, I feel that this is more sad…”

“You two were going to catch up finally?” Laura questions

To which I nod, “I don’t know if Who Knows gave Jade the hint.”

“You know what?” Laura asks, “We’ve had a long day and we’re about to have another. Why don’t we rest up?”

I take Laura’s suggestion and lie in bed.

Part 3 (Final)

#jade thirlwall x reader #jesy nelson #leigh anne pinnock #perrie edwards #little mix #little mix imagine #little mix x reader #female reader #female bassist

[thesaunatest]

MY HUGE THEORY ON EL’S PLOTLINE IN S4

before you guys even start, YES I know that 99.9% of what I say is going to be wrong but this is literally just for fun.

its march 1986, middle of the school year and el HATES school

when we left her she was barely literate and had just started getting accostomed to speaking full sentences, NOWHERE NEAR a 9th grade level, so shes struggling in her classes to say the least

on top of that, she barely knows how to socialize with other people, so shes evidently getting picked on

with joyce and jonathan both working to keep the family afloat, will and el get left alone alot

but outside of the party, they socially have nothing in common

in fact, will is adapting to the new town a whole lot better than el. he fit right in with all the creative kids he met in class, but el didnt mesh with that crowd

anyway, our girl is sturggling

the only time she really has fun is when she visits hawkins, or when someone from the party visits them

which leads us to spring break

mike obviously comes to visit, and el doesnt want them to waste a single second so she begs mike and will to come explore the town with her

at this point joyce is already in her detective mode, hatching a rescue plan for hopper so she doesnt notice theyre gone

and jonathan is battling the heartbreak of nancy ghosting him when she was supposed to come visit

so the trio goes off on an adventure without anyone noticing.......... or so they think

because brenner is back, and he knows el is with the byers, but he cant go and snatch her because he doesnt have the resources all the way in california

in fact, he doesnt have the resources at all. his numbers experiment is seen as a catastrophic failure that lead to the deaths of hundreds of lab employees

the only way for him to redeem himself in the community, and gain his funding back is to present his peers with proof that the project can work, so he needs to get one of his numbers back

el is the only one he can track down, but he doesnt think he can do it himself. if she saw him, she could just kill him with her powers, he assumes because he doesnt know she lost them

so who does he employ to get el back to hawkins? lonnie byers

its almost too easy. it doesnt take much to bribe lonnie, and hey, its not like its his kid. so lonnie accepts the bribe, and goes all the way out to california to find el

he shows up at the byers house..... only to find it completely deserted. so he waits

and the trio finds him there after their day out (why are you here? what do you want? where are mom and jonathan?)

and lonnie, being as crafty as he is, comes up with a good excuse on the fly (hes craftier than i am because i genuinely have no idea what he would say)

anyway, he gets them in his car and on their way back to hawkins

jonathan shows up after theyve already left, and is too stoned tired to think anything of the empty house

and joyce is already halfway to russia

will knows his father. he knows that his father doesnt give a shit about him, the family, or anything about hawkins. he knows that his father wouldnt get involved in anything unless he had something to gain. so hes wraking his brain

maybe.... lonnie pulls over to take a suspicious phone call? maybe will figures out an inconsistency in his story? either way, the gang is onto lonnie and figures that they gotta get away from him and get back to joyce and jonathan

they tuck and roll out of the car. idk. all that matters is that they get out of there

as theyre rolling out of the car, el bonks her head a little and has a quick flashback to her time in the lab

since her intuition is always spot on, she takes this as a cue the breener is back and lonnie is working for him

she tells the boys it isnt safe to go back to california or hawkins, so they come up w an alternative plan, somewhere neither brenner nor lonnie would think to look for them

and while theyre on the road, they stop at a diner to eat (dont ask me where they got the money) and we get will leaving an emotional voicemail home, probably sobbing to jonathan about how much he means to will, which gives el an idea

because who has the resources to help her, as well as a desire for vengeance on brenner? kali

el uses her superb hitchiking skills to get them to chicago

maybe she just has some hints of her powers left, but it isnt too hard for el to find kali

she explains everything thats happened, and lets kali know that if she want revenge, the opportunity is hers

unfortunately, lonnie was hot on their trail, and called for reinforcements

theyre ambushed by the few employees brenner has working for him. initially, everyone is hiding, assisted by kali’s powers

but el knows they arent leaving empty handed, and would rather get taken away then have kali’s freedom taken from her

so el reveals herself, followed by mike because he wont leave her, followed by will because he wont leave mike

all three get taken away, back to hawkins lab, but now kali is even more motivated to bring down the lab once and for all

so kali and her gang get to hawkins, almost simultaniously with jonathan, who has been looking for his family in a frenzy since the morning he woke up to find eveyone gone, without even a note or a phone call, as well as argyle, who came along for the ride

the video store is being used as home base this season, so thats the first place they go, where they find steve, shortstaffed and not knowing whats going on because the whole team ditched him

they catch him up to speed on how EVERYONES GONE and steve catches them up to speed on how EVERYONE IS GETTING MURDERED

meanwhile, brenner has three predicaments

1) no matter what he does to el, what kind of torture he inflicts, she isnt using her powers because she doesnt have them. she tells him this several times. he refuses to believe it

2) lonnie byers is demanding his payment, which he didnt recieve because the deal was that he bring el to them, and he couldnt even do that

3) he has to find a way to dispose of mike and will, who he had no intention of bringing into the lab but theyre here and they know everything

and this is the moment where mike screws up by letting them know that people know theyre in the lab and people know about all the experiments and any second now, someones gonna come banging that door down to save us. nancy, jonathan, steve, robin max, lucas, dustin, kali-

and the second mike says her name he knows he screwed up

brenner decides in that moment that all he can do is round up everyone involved and get rid of them. conveniently, the string of murders occurring will serve as a good cover for what happened to them

and this is the part where joyce, murray, and hopper get back to hawkins

this is also the part where nancy and robin and the gang get back to hawkins

so nancy and robin immediately go to the video store armed with all the new information they learned from victor creel

..... and are met with jonathan, argyle, kali, and steve in pandemonium

they close the store for the day, and get ready to storm the lab

they realize that they need something from the school, so they head there to pick it up

and soon after arriving, theyre met with the all to familiar hawkins lab vans

they make a hasty escape, taking out some of the goons but they need to find a way to get the rest off their trail

they head for the woods, hoping to hide out in the cabin

meanwhile, the russia crew has taken the mostly demolished cabin as their haven to recover from whatever injuries they sustained

theyre all running through the woods, but they realize the people from the lab are closing in on them

and then nancy and jonathan pass a very familiar tree

they use whatever weapon they have on them to break through the bark, and head into the upside down

the lab people keep going into the woods, eventually finding hopper’s cabin

epic showdown between the russia crew and the lab people, joyce, murray and hopper win, they realize the lab is back, immediately head there realizing theyre gonna have to rescue someone

nancy and robin use the info they learned from victor creel to keep the gang alive in the upside down, max, argyle and eddie are freaking out because omg we’re in another dimention, we get some big reveal about the truth about the upside down and the gang makes their way out and head to the lab

and while this is all happening,we get some super emotional monologue between brenner and el (ala-the last 10 minutes of the truman show) and brenner realizes that el isnt going to be the naieve superweapn she used to be, and decides the best thing he can do with el is give her the standard punishment, time in the closet

and being in the closet triggers all sorts of flashbacks and emotions (mbb’s opportunity to show off her acting chops for an emmy)

joyce and hopper bust into the lab like they did in season 1, but this time they dont get caught

they decide to split up to cover more ground, and hopper finds el in the closet

and around the same time joyce finds mike and will and gets them out of there

here comes the REAL emotional performance

hopper sees her, we get a teary eyed “el!” “dad!”, and then hopper gets pulled away from el by lab workers

exactly the same way terry did

we’re watching this happen from el’s perspective, with a heart-wrenching “noooooooooo” from el, accompanied by cuts to every time el has had to be separated from someone she cares about (terry, the s1 ending, billy dying, her leaving kali in s2, saying goodbye to everyone on moving day, her being separated from mike and will when they got to the lab) accompanied by some terribly sad 80s song, then back to the present moment, she reaches her hand out and boom, the guards go flying. her powers are back

except she doesnt have control of them the way she did before, and now shes bringing the whole building down

her and hopper race to the the first floor, and meet joyce and the boys, they get out of the building at the very last second, and the whole thing collapses.

eventually they find the other group, the whole team is now together, they go and take down the big bad from the upside down, joyce almost KILLS lonnie

nancy and robin drop a huge bombshell that has to do with hawkins/the upside down, specifically pertaining to el, which they pieced together after talking to victor creel

we get a massive cliffhanger, season 5 starts like 10 minutes after the ending of season 4

#stranger things #yes i know half the stuff i said is going to be wrong #it would be really cool if it was tho #stranger things theory

[authenticcadence18]

30 Questions About Me

THANKS FOR THE TAG @bugaboo-n-bananoir ILY!!!!

(Nick)name: Cadence

gender: cis female

Star sign: Pisces

Height: uhhhhh I am not sure, it’s taller than 5ft at least

Time: night! (Well I wrote most of this last night, but now it’s the evening of the next day!)

Birthday: well I’m a Pisces, so my birthday is between Feb 19th and march 20th!

Fave band/group: Pentatonix! Or For King and Country. Or the piano guys, the vitamin string quartet, Voctave.....also Phineas and the Ferbtones👌

Fave solo artists: I really like Lauren Daigle, and Jackie Evancho used to be my FAVE. Aaand idk if this counts but Michael Giacchino! love his scores, especially the score for Inside Out. There’s also this guy called Clay Kramer on YouTube who makes KK Slider covers of popular music, his stuff gives me so much seratonin😅

Song Stuck in my Head: Well I’m listening to music rn and “I’m Me” from Phineas and Ferb is on so I’ll say that! (I’ll revisit this one when I finish the list and update it with whatever song i’m listening to/is stuck in my head then) (ok the music has since been turned off and now I have “Status Quo” from High School Musical stuck in my head so! There ya go!) (now it is the next day, and I’ve got “when the party’s over” stuck in my head...i think these three songs are an accurate reflection of my taste in music🤣)

Last Movie: uhhhhh oh yeah, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice! It was SO GREAT because Jay Baruchel plays the main character (and the main character is super awkward), so I felt like I was watching Hiccup from the How To Train Your Dragon franchise learn magic and it was GLORIOUS. And also Nicholas Cage is great. And I liked the love interest in the movie as well!! She had a role to play in the story and felt authentic and genuine, which I appreciated!

Last Show: ok well the last show I watched by myself was Phineas and Ferb! Specifically, the episode with the Mardi Gras block party and then the one where Candace and Stacy compete in an obstacle course against Isabella and Ginger (omg wAIT ginger and Stacy are sisters and Isabella and Candace are GOING to be sisters mY HEART I—AH🥺). I hadn’t watched those episodes in forever, so they were really fun to revisit! I think the last actual show I watched was Kids Baking Championship or something, lol. (Those kids are AMAZING. So skilled!)

When i created this blog: November 2019! It was riiiight after the season 3 finale of miraculous aired and absolutely wrecked my emotions. I had some fanfic written that I’d never posted and had been thinking about making a tumblr/ao3 for awhile, and seeing the finale made me finally go, “.....you know what, yeah. The finale is aired, no more spoilers.....it’s time to make a blog.” So I did! And I posted my first fic! And I’m so happy i did :)

What Do I Post: a bunch of multi fandom stuff XD. This blog started off as 90% Miraculous, 10% other fandoms I like...but now it’s just kind of a hodgepoge of my favorite fandoms (with a focus on Phineas and Ferb, lol). I reblog a lot of posts, and then I post original stuff too! I write fanfic, nowadays for Phineas and Ferb but for Miraculous in the past (and probably in the future!), I draw art (mostly Phinabella art because I’ve been drawing them since i was 11 and it feels good to return to my roots), and OCCASIONALLY I will write an analysis post (I’ve got one in the works rn actually 👀), attempt to make a meme, or dip my toe into salt just SLIGHTLY before quickly backing away, lol. If I were to list the fandoms I post about in the order of how frequently I post about them, I’d probably say: Phineas and Ferb, Miraculous....and thennnnn everything else is pretty random and depends on the day, lol.

Last thing i googled: Jay Baruchel 😂. Couldn’t remember how to spell his last name!

Other blogs: this is my only blog! Sometimes I think about making a separate blog for my art and writing, but I am not sure if I should or not....maybe I will someday, but idk. I also have an AO3 for fanfic and an Instagram for art! All are under the name “authenticcadence18.”

Do I get asks: sometimes, yeah!! Sometimes I reblog ask games/prompts and get some asks for those (I’ve got so many prompts in my inbox I want to write/draw things for...ah it’s fine, I’ll get to it eventually😅), and sometimes lovely people will leave thoughts or nice messages in my inbox🥺💕. I’ve got a specific tag for all those nice messages so I can read back over them whenever I need a boost!

Why this url: it’s a music pun! When a song/section of a piece of music ends with a dominant chord resolving to a tonic chord (if you’ve read a certain fic of mine you should know allll about dominant and tonic chords👀🤣), it’s called an authentic cadence! There are different kinds of cadences, and authentic ones are my favorite. One example of this is “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” I also use this blog to be my authentic, fandom-loving self! So I like authentic cadences, and also, I’m Cadence and using this blog to be authentic! Woo! (And 18 is just my favorite number, lol) I’m glad I ended up choosing a name that doesn’t tie to a specific fandom becaaaaaause this ended up being a multi fandom blog!

Following: 232!!

Followers: 292!!! (THANKS SO MUCH Y’ALL ILY 💕)

Average amount of sleep: wellllll for the past week and a half I was sick so I was probably getting 9ish hours a night (because I would sleep in really late, lol). but NOW? In my immediate future? I suspect my average amount of sleep is going to go down because I’m really bad about staying up late even when I have to get up early😅. Hoping to be good about getting at least 7ish hours a night!

Lucky number: 18! But y’all probably already guessed that, lol.

Instruments: my voice, piano, ukulele, viola (but it’s been a HOT minute), aaaand i used to be able to play guitar but then I got a ukulele and forgot all the guitar chords. (I also dabble in songwriting! I primarily use voice and piano when writing music.)

What I’m wearing: my favorite sweatshirt (that was last night, rn I have on a tanktop), some leggings, and socks!

Dream job: I’m currently learning to be a teacher, and I LOVE teaching and working with kids so that is definitely a job I’m really excited about!!! I would also love to portray characters at Disney or something (well, maybe not at Disney because I hear they’re strict, but like....I want to be Rapunzel or Anna or something, that would be so fun). OR, I would LOVE to work in tv animation somehow, be it voice acting, writing scripts/music, and/or story boarding. basically if I could do what Dan and Swampy did for Phineas and Ferb/Milo Murphy’s Law, I would LOVE THAT. (Especially the writing music part. Getting to write music for established characters and get PAID for it would be SO COOL.!.!.!) Also I think it would be so fun to write Disney storybooks! Like, those books that are about Cinderella baking a cake or Ariel befriending a seahorse, stuff like that. Those brought me a ton of joy as a child!

Dream trip: I want to visit alllll the Disney parks someday😅. (Not right now because, ya know, Covid...but someday!)

Fave food: uhhh i really like pizza. And popcorn. Also hummus and guacamole!

nationality: American

Fave songs: “Times” by Tenth Avenue North; “Can’t Help Falling in Love” (I made an entire playlist of just this song when I first started writing my fic of the same name, so I like the original and a ton of covers of it!), “Show Yourself” from Frozen II, “What Might Have Been” from Phineas and Ferb (and lots of other songs from that show, i made a whole post about that once but I can’t find it, oof); “Rescue” by Lauren Daigle; “Thank You” by Pentatonix; “I See the Light” from Tangled; “Your Hands” by JJ Heller; “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran.....i like a loooot of songs so this is just the tip of the iceberg, but I think that’s good for now, LOL! (As soon as I post this I’m going to remember another song I love, lol)

last book: I got the book Unbirthday for Christmas! It’s basically Disney’s Alice in Wonderland, but if she’d never gone to wonderland and things went horribly wrong there. (I think, I’m not that far into it yet, lol)

Top 3 fictional universes I’d love to live in: 1. DANVILLE, PLS. Especially as a kid, I SO would’ve loved to hang out with Isabella and Phineas and the rest of the gang! Danville is so vibrant and unique and people are always randomly breaking into song there, that’s my kind of place! 2. Fairytopia (from the Barbie movies!) because I could be a fairy OR a mermaid OR BOTH and eat seeweed to breathe underwater even if I wasn’t a mermaid. Like, that’s the dream right there. (I’ve always loved mermaids and fairies, lol!) 3. Maybe San Fransokyo from Big Hero 6? All of the technology in that universe is really cool! And I would love to eat a noodle burger, lol .

Oh! That’s the last one! Wow! This was so FUN!!!!!!! Thanks again for the tag, Maddy!!!! :)

I’ll taaaag @sketchy-panda @macaronsforchat @simplynewyorkbound @inkjackets and anyone else who’d like to do this! (And pls don’t feel pressured to play at all, or answer all of the questions! I was definitely vague with a few of my answers, lol)

#long post #cadence rambles #tag game #this was so funnnnn! #i also got your other tag maddy🥺 #going to get to that post soon!

[raewrites98]

Runaway Train

For @foxeshaveclaws! You wanted long-distance relationships and surprises gone wrong- it's my first time writing for Andreil and this fandom, so I hope this still manages to live up to that, while staying withing the realm of their relationship :) Thank you for your wonderful prompt! Happy Valentine's Day <3 @aftgexchange                                                          *** “Come on, Josten,” Wymack yelled from where he stood behind the plexiglass, “Hurry up.”

Neil grit his teeth. He readjusted his grip on his racquet and swung, fast and hard. The ball sailed across the court, right into Robin’s waiting net as she caught it with practiced ease. He tore his helmet from his head and ran a hand through his sweaty, tangled hair. Fuck. That was the third shot he had missed. (Keep reading here or on AO3!)

“Nice shot, captain,” Jack taunted with a sneer, leaning against the wall. He shared a glance with Sheena, who scoffed in agreement.

It was late afternoon and the team had gathered to practice for their home game against the Breckenridge Jackals this Friday. They had been running drills for the last half hour or so and Neil was suffering. He couldn’t focus. The harsh fluorescent lights stung his eyes and his head pounded viciously. His thoughts kept drifting off into nothing, mind numb from exhaustion. At this rate, Coach was going to bench him.

Wymack blew his whistle, the sharp ring echoing across the court. “Go home,” he said, “You better not pull this shit tomorrow.” He spoke to the team, but Neil could feel the weight of his words as if they were directed at him specifically. He was captain, he should be better than this. He was better than this.

They dispersed slowly, the girls heading to one locker room and the guys the other. Before they parted, Robin brushed a hand against Neil’s shoulder. “Sweetie’s later?” She gave him a half smile. Her wild, curly hair stuck to her forehead, face red and sweaty.

Neil nodded. He went to his locker without a word, sat down and started peeling his shoes off one at a time. Bruises were starting to form where he had been body-checked into the wall several times during their scrimmage. It was a familiar feeling, one that usually offered comfort, but now only made him feel worse. 

A shadow fell upon him. Neil glanced up to see Jack leaning against the lockers, arms crossed. He was still in his bright orange gear, golden hair slicked back. “You better not fuck up this weekend,” he said. “I don't want people thinking the whole team sucks as much as our captain.” A few snickers passed through the room. 

Neil grit his teeth. He undid the Velcro strap of his gloves. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering how Dan had ever managed this- the disobedience and disrespect from players who thought themselves superior. Even as vice-captain, he at least had been able to rely on Kevin’s demanding personality and fame to keep them in check.

But neither of them was here now. Even the cousins were gone, leaving Neil to start the fall semester on his own. He thought after years of running, he was used to being alone, but his time with the Foxes had changed that. He would never admit it out loud, but he missed them. Badly. 

“If you do blow it, though,” Jack continued, “maybe Coach will actually do something worthwhile and give your position to someone who deserves it.”

“Like who, you?” Neil eyed him up and down. Jack was only a sophomore and already thought he was better than everyone else, simply because Kevin recruited him. He started shoving his gear in his locker. “Your defense is weak, you can barely hold your own against the press and, frankly, your personality is shit.”

Jack scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from the guy getting fucked by that psycho Minyard,” he spat, as if the words left a foul taste in his mouth. “Bet the press would have a field day with that.” 

Neil clenched his jaw. Fuck this. His and Andrew’s relationship was never a secret, not with the way the Foxes gossiped, but it was private. He didn’t go around throwing it in everyone’s face, and he definitely didn’t need some arrogant little shit doing that for him. “Don’t,” he warned.

Jack laughed, raising his hands. “What are you gonna do? Make me run laps?” He rolled his eyes.

That was it. 

Neil’s fist collided with Jack’s nose. It gave a satisfying, sickening crack, blood spurting from his nostrils as he stumbled back with a cry, clutching his face. “What the fuck!” He lunged forward. Acting quickly, one of their teammates grabbed him and held him back. “You son of a bitch!” he snarled.

Neil slung his bag over his shoulder. “You want the extra laps too?” Jack glowered at him. “I didn’t think so.” Neil slammed the door shut as he left, the sound of it echoing throughout the gym.

                                                               ***

Neil’s phone rang as he was forcing himself through the last of his math homework. He picked it up without checking the caller ID. All these years and he still had the same ringtone. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” Andrew’s voice was muffled. There was some shifting and crackling through the speaker, until he sounded clearer. “Heard you finally snapped.” 

Neil rolled his eyes. “Who told you?” He chewed the cap of his pen and scribbled down something he thought resembled a logical answer. Tiny inked fox paws and exy racquets littered the margins of his paper. 

“Robin.” Of course. She, along with the rest of the team, had found out during morning practice, when Jack strutted in with a bruised face and swollen nose. To say Coach had been displeased was an understatement.

“He was asking for it.” Neil shoved his book aside and walked over to the bed. He let himself fall backwards onto the mattress, hitting it with a soft huff as the air left his lungs. He balled his hand into a fist, watching the ugly, shiny white scars stretch across his knuckles. A deep purple bruise colored the skin of his hand. He didn’t regret punching Jack. If anything, he wished he had done so sooner. 

“I’m surprised it took you this long,” Andrew remarked dryly.

Neil chuckled. Silence passed. He fidgeted with the strings of his sweater. “How was your day?”

“Long.” After graduation, Andrew had signed a three year contract with Boston’s pro team.  He lived there now, in a small apartment Neil had the only spare key to. It hung on his key chain, along with the ones for Columbia and the Maserati. 

Neil hummed. “You talked to Nicky?”

“More or less,” Andrew said. “He’s as disgustingly happy as ever.” A few months ago, Nicky finally moved to Germany. The wedding wasn’t until next year, but it was all he ever talked about.

“Good.” A pause. “You visiting soon?”

Andrew was silent for a while. “Not for a few weeks,” he said. “Think you can manage that long, Josten?”

He huffed. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” Andrew drawled.

He rolled his eyes. He flipped and laid on his stomach, holding the phone in front of him. “I want to see you,” he mumbled into the sheets.

There was another pause, and for the briefest moment, Neil wondered if he had crossed a line. If he had made things weird. This was their first year apart and learning to navigate this whole long-distance thing was frustrating. They weren’t the most outwardly affectionate to begin with.

“Happy now?”

Neil looked up. A blurry, pixelated image of Andrew appeared on the cracked screen of his phone, glasses sliding down his nose and hair damp. 

He was wearing his PSU sweater, Neil noted. “It’ll do, I guess,” he said with a shrug.

“I could hang up on you, you know.”

“You won’t.” Neil’s smile grew.

He didn’t.

                                                              ***

“You sure you’re okay, Josten?” Robin asked as she chewed at the end of her straw, bending it left and right. Sweetie’s was surprisingly empty for a Monday night. A few people lingered at the bar and an elderly couple occupied the booth behind them, but other than that, it was empty. “And don’t give me that I’m fine crap.” 

Neil pushed his eggs around, watching how the yolk broke and spilled across his plate. “Just tired, I guess,” he mumbled. It wasn’t a lie. He always slept better with someone near him. It used to be his mom, but over time, Andrew had managed to worm his way into that spot instead. In his absence the mattress felt too cold, too empty. It took Neil hours to fall asleep.

“You talk to Andrew?”

“Yeah.” They had called for another half hour or so, before Neil left to finish his homework. It was fine at first, but their conversation had quickly grown stilted, punctuated by one word answers and long silences. He noticed that was happening frequently lately. Thinking about it made him sick to his stomach. He pushed his plate aside.

“Then what’s got you so fucked up?”

“Nothing.” 

Robin gave him a look.

He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s this whole captain thing, I guess,” he said, slumping back in his seat. The leather booth squeaked under his shifting weight. 

“Hey,” Robin said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “You carried us through the first season. You’re doing fine.” She offered him a reassuring smile.

The gesture was appreciated, but it didn’t make Neil feel that much better. “Yeah,” he muttered, tearing his toast to shreds.

Robin picked up her pencil and started tapping it on her sketchpad. The book was filled with scribbles and quick sketches of him and the team. She carried it wherever she went. “You know what? We should do something fun,” she said suddenly, sitting up. “After the game. Go out for a movie or whatever.”

Neil considered it. He wasn’t a fan of movies, or anything social really, but the idea of spending another night locked in his room alone sounded excruciating. “Sure,” he said with a shrug.

Robin looked surprised. “Okay,” she said. “Cool. Meet me here at eight?”

He nodded. Maybe it would help distract him, even if only for a few hours.

                                                          ***

They ended up losing the game.

Earlier that morning, right before their last practice, Neil sent Andrew a quick text. 

To: Minyard [6:45am] You watching tonight?

From: Minyard [7:25am] Can’t. Plans.

That shouldn’t have bothered him so much. When he was on court, adrenaline pumping through his veins, the weight of his racquet in hand, he couldn’t care less about who was watching. All that mattered was the ball in his net and the goal ahead. Everything else faded into the background.

But Andrew always watched his games. 

And then, when he tried to pry for answers as to what these plans were, Andrew’s replies went from short to nonexistent.

Neil managed to walk the team through warm-ups, but he couldn’t stop the flow of thoughts that forced their way into his mind, whispering of his incompetence as captain, his lack of friends and his possibly dying relationship with Andrew. When the first buzzer sounded and he nearly dropped his racquet, startled out of his spiraling thoughts, he knew it wasn’t going to end well.

It had been a close call in the end though. With thirty seconds left on the clock, Neil soared across court, twisting and turning around the Jackal’s defense until the goal was in sight. He stopped, swung his racquet back and took the shot.

The Breckenridge goalie dove for it and at the very last second, caught the ball with his net. The crowd gave a deafening roar, drowning out the buzzer as it signaled the end of the game. 

Neil’s heart dropped to his feet. He stared at the goal, a cold, dreadful numbness spreading through him. 

“Come on,” Robin muttered, slapping him hard across the back, “Keep it together.” 

The rest was a blur. As captain, he upheld his duty to entertain the press, but didn’t have it in him to bite back against their snarky, provocative comments. Wymack seemed pleased, if not a little concerned with his compliance. 

No one spoke in the locker rooms. Tension hung in the air, sharp and uncomfortable. Most of his teammates slipped out of the room without a word, but Jack stopped in front of Neil as he stood. He towered over him, six feet of anger and misplaced arrogance. “Should’ve fucking known,” he hissed. 

Neil bristled, fists clenched and ready for a fight. 

“Don’t bother, Jack,” one of his teammates said. “He isn’t worth it.”

The door closed and Neil was left alone surrounded by an oppressive, judgmental silence. Sweat trickled down his neck. His chest felt tight with each breath. 

There was only one thing left to do. He had to run.

                                                           ***

The sun was long gone by the time Neil made it back to the Fox Tower. His legs burned and arms ached, but he felt better. Running lessened some of the panic that had held him in a vice-like grip, but their loss still hung over him like a thick cloud. What if Coach was wrong? What if he wasn’t cut out for captain? 

The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a single car parked under the lamppost. Neil crossed the street and kept his head down as he passed. A few steps from the tower’s entrance, he stopped.

He turned. “Andrew?”

Leaning back against the hood of the car, a cigarette in hand, stood Andrew. He was wearing a burgundy button down and black tie, sleeves rolled up to reveal his arm bands. Under the flickering yellow light, his hair glowed a deep gold, neatly swept off his forehead. Neil swallowed thickly.

“Running away again, Josten?” Andrew took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke in his direction. His dark eyes flickered over Neil’s sweaty, disheveled appearance.

Neil walked over and came to a stop in front of him. It didn’t make any sense- Andrew wasn’t supposed to show up for another two weeks. What was he doing here? Had he been at the game? Neil hoped not. “Why are you here?”

“Take a guess.”

“I thought you had plans,” Neil bit, shoving his hands in his sweater.

 Andrew looked unimpressed. “Is that your guess?”

“I don’t know,” Neil snapped. “Are you here to watch me ruin my career as captain?” He kicked a stone, watching as it skipped across the parking lot. 

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “One game and you’re ready to jump ship?” He tsked, shaking his head. “I thought you were over the whole ‘flight risk’ thing.”

“I’m not running away,” Neil snapped. 

Andrew stared at him, waiting.

“I just-” He tore a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, okay?” Once he started, he found he couldn’t stop. The words came rushing out with a single breath, every thought and twisted emotion he had bottled up since the start of the school year. “I’m not Dan, or Kevin. I don’t know how to be a good captain, and I definitely don’t know how to do it on my own.”

“Then quit.” The cigarette glowed bright orange, another puff of smoke drifting in the air.

Neil scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not that easy.”

“Nothing is.” Andrew reached for him, turning Neil’s chin so he was forced to look up. He stared at Neil, stoic and calm, the deep brown of his irises like liquid gold, holding Neil captive. It was in that unwavering apathy he found himself relaxing, shoulders slowly sagging as his worries slipped away. “You’ll manage.”

Neil drew a slow breath. The acrid, sharp scent of the cigarette smoke eased his nerves. He nodded. 

Satisfied, Andrew dropped his hand. He picked up Neil’s wrist instead, analyzing the bruised skin of his knuckles. He brushed his thumb along the row of scars.

Neil’s heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said. 

“You missed dinner,” Andrew remarked.

A frown furrowed Neil’s brow. “What do you mean?”

“You had plans, didn’t you?”

Fuck. In his sudden and overwhelming distress, Neil had completely forgotten about Robin. She was going to be so pissed.

“Yeah, with Robin,” he said. “Did she tell you that too?” He wasn’t the kind to be jealous, but sometimes he wondered if she spoke to Andrew more than he did. 

Andrew looked unamused. “I can’t believe how incredibly stupid you are sometimes.” He gestured to himself.

“What?” Neil’s eyes flickered over his outfit. Then it clicked. “I wasn’t meeting Robin, was I?”

“Reservations were at eight,” Andrew remarked dryly.

Neil checked his phone. Quarter past ten. He winced. Had he really been gone that long? 

He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like Andrew to visit unprompted. Definitely not like this. Not as a ... surprise. 

Something else caught Neil’s eye as he looked at his phone. “It’s February 14th,” he said, a slow grin curling his lips.

“He knows how to read,” Andrew said with mock surprise.

“That’s Valentine’s day,” Neil persisted.

“Really?” Andrew flicked the cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out with his foot. 

“You know,” Neil said slowly, trailing a finger along the fabric of Andrew’s collar, “I wonder what the press would think if they knew Andrew Minyard was a hopeless romantic,” He stepped closer.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “One hundred and three percent, Josten.”

He leaned in close, lips inches from Andrew’s. “Yes or no?”

Andrew flicked his head but pulled him forward by his collar. “Yes.”

His lips met Andrew’s in a soft, warm kiss that sent pleasant shivers down his spine. All of his worries faded into nothing and when Andrew’s cool, rough hands found their way into his hair, pulling him even closer, he knew that in the end, he was going to be okay.

#the foxhole court #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #my writing #raewrites98 #valentines day #fanfic exchange #fluff #neil is sad and slightly dumb #long distance relationship #surprises #all for the game #aftg #@foxeshaveclaws

[the-colony-roleplay]

COL22EVENT ⚔️ DRUNK MAN’S CHEST: Victory Party ⚔️

It was a little late, by the time the party came about—almost exactly two weeks after Delma’s victory in the first Games of the season—but Felix Turner had always been of the mind that ‘a little late’ was a perfectly acceptable trade off for something to be done right. This party was about him after all.

...Well, okay, it was technically about Delma and their ‘exciting’ victory—which was ironic considering Felix pretty much hated everything about his first experience with Colony 22′s infamous Games and most of the people in his house didn’t even seem to like him—but beneath the surface, this party was really about Felix. This was his chance to show off a little, and to prove that even if not everyone here recognized his name or respected his celebrity, it still had a place here; it still pulled some weight. It didn’t matter what stupid-bitch-face   Whitmer had to say, Felix was still a cut above the rest and that’s just the way it was. 

So this had to be right. Especially because, though he was unlikely to admit it, he was actually pretty desperate to find acceptance here. Which was like, sort of gross to think about, considering this entire Colony was basically one giant damp and odorous reject’s table, but whether he liked it or not, he was stuck here now and had to make the most of it. Besides, now that he was starting to form relationships here he actually cared about, he couldn’t risk letting a—totally undeserved—bad reputation ruin them.

In the end, his conversation with Koda about the decor had indeed convinced him to adjust his initial vision a bit. There was no way he was going manage a totally modern club vibe in this shit hole, so he figured he may as well... lean into the rustic thing as creatively as possible. But it had to be fun and surprising and it had to take people’s breath away, so Felix definitely still had his work cut out for him. That first week of March quickly became a blur of around-the-clock prep. Thank God for the help from Koda and Angel because even between the three of them, hunting down all the decoration materials had been a nightmare: Hours of sorting through the storage boxes Cambie had told him about (mostly a lot of fugly junk and tinsel), and days of Felix personally harassing trade merchants and marines. Though, having a person like Angel on his good side definitely paid off some in that department. 

And then there were all those extra hours he’d put in with Bee to polish up their dance. When he’d convinced her to agree to get it ready in time for the party, he’d acted like he’d not had any concern at all about whether or not they could pull it off. But he was concerned. Because just ‘pulling it off’ wasn’t good enough. They had to nail this. His reputation was at stake, and honestly, he couldn’t think of much worse a threat. He knew they both had the chops to do it, but that didn’t mean they could slack off. It’d been a long time since he’d danced in front of people. Plus he’d had to practice his vocal performances too... those came easier, because much of it was like muscle memory, but he was still nervous.

The evening of Friday the 4th, Fee arranged to have the Catch closed early (thanks Dad), and he, Koda and Angel loaded in boxes and got to work. When Tuck In came around, they were excused from roll call (thanks Angel), and they continued on until Fee’s fingertips were sore from using the staple gun to hang the sting lights. At which point, he’d passed it off to Koda, whose decorated hands were much stronger and more deft with these things (read: he was less of a pansy), and so they went a few hours longer. By the time they decided to call it a night, it was well into the early hours of the morning, and a very good thing they’d been excused from their Saturday wake up calls and activities (thanks Cambie). God, it was nice to be so well connected.

During the set up, Xavier Crane had stayed around after closing to supervise Fee’s little decoration team, which wouldn’t have bothered Felix so much if the bartender had just minded his own bloody business. He’d kept moaning stupidly about ‘Powerpack Limits’ when Fee had been testing out the twinkle lights and fog machine, and then when he’d been looking for a outlet for the dance floor tiles (for which he’d paid a bloody fortune to get off the Market), the bartender had had the audacity to interrupt again. Felix, of course, had gritted his teeth, plastered on a snide smile and kindly reminded him that he was Felix Fucking Turner and he knew exactly what he was doing, thank you very much.

Catch 22 remained closed and locked all of Saturday before the party, and Fee and Angel handled any necessary finishing touches. They even had time for one more quick tech run. By supper time, Felix was practically trembling with anticipation, and in the dining hall, gently excited chatter about the party could be overheard at every table. It left Felix feeling quite pleased with himself.

And the young, idyllic socialite would soon be equally as smug when the first half of the party and its opening performances go off without a hitch. In the hours that follow, however, he would come to wish he’d not dismissed Crane’s grumpy mutterings quite so hastily...

CHECK OUT FULL EVENT DETAILS AND SUMMARY UNDER THE CUT!

Welcome To: ⚔️ DRUNK MAN’S CHEST: A DELMA VICTORY PARTY ⚔️

This post marks the official commencement of Colony 22′s 8th non-games related event, “Drunk Man’s Chest”!

                                        ⚔️ Event Details ⚔️

Date: Saturday, March 5th, 2163 Time: 8pm-1am (doors @7:30) Location: Catch 22 Note: In lieu of a cover charge, Felix requests that guests consider donating credits at the door to compensate the Trade Merchants and Elites who made the event possible.

Alrighty mateys!! We’re pleased to bring you this belated but eagerly anticipated Delma Victory Party thrown by none other than The Felix Tee (insert groans and exasperated/fond eye rolls as necessary). Since this is a follow up to our last event and the first Games of Colony 22′s 2163 season, Dead Man’s Chest, Felix and his happy helpers have carried on with the swashbuckling theme.

It is not explicitly a costume party, but it is themed, so attendees are encouraged to dress up. At the door, citizens will receive gold ‘doubloons’ which they can exchange at the bar for complimentary drinks of their choice. They may also order from a menu of three feature cocktails, designed and named specifically for the night’s celebrations, by none other than yours truly. Doubloons allowance per citizen will be allotted as follows:

Delma SC1, SC2 & Elites: 4 doubloons

Delma SC3: 3 doubloons

Brink, Calyset, Torren SC1, SC2 & Elites:  3 doubloons

Brink, Calyset, Torren SC3s: 2 doubloons

Doubloons have a value of one drink each. Excess cocktails and other beverages may be purchased using individual credits, at standard bar price. Alcoholic consumption regulations according to the New Wave Mandate still apply.

Additionally, in the interest of inclusivity, Felix is providing complimentary earplugs at the door for any increased hearing citizens who feel they might need them for the dance party. (Due to limited quantities, they are reserved only for Infected citizens.)

                                     ⚔️ Decor & Menu ⚔️

Decor for the bar and table sections of the Catch was inspired with a ‘crow’s nest’ aesthetic in mind. Enough twinkle and string lights have been hung from walls, ceilings, posts and tables to replace the overhead lights entirely, which have been left off. Every table and booth features a rustic candle centrepiece (tea-lights dropped into short, somewhat mismatched, frosted-glass candle holders of coppers and golds) and rolled bits of parchment tied with twine, designed to look like treasure maps.

The walls and surfaces are modestly scattered with a variety of pirate and captain’s hats, as well as a few classily-displayed maps—some printed and some tastefully hand drawn.

The feature cocktail selections are as follows:

The Delma Daiquiri Rum, lime juice, and simple syrup with a splash of cherry liqueur. Blended with raspberry puree* and ice. Garnished with a maraschino cherry.

Feequila Sunrise Tequila and grenadine topped with delicious, foamy peach juice shaken over ice for a glimpse of that sunrise on the horizon! Garnished with a fuzzy peach candy.

TeeTotal A non-alcoholic mocktail shaken with lime juice, honey and black current puree*, topped off with sparkling water.

**All purees and juices made from tinned fruit.

                                     ⚔️  Performances ⚔️

Performances start at 8:30pm and take place on the Catch 22 stage. The Catch having been set up for small performances plenty of times before, this portion of the evening is executed with no hiccups.  One hand-designed set list on parchment-like paper is found on every table.

As a whole, the vocal performances have a laid-back, acoustic vibe. The dance performances, however, close the showcase with a lively and upbeat mood. Before the show, Felix also reminds citizens that some dance performances (*cough*) may not be appropriate for all audiences.

Of course, Felix had made Corbin promise [x] that this ‘exotic dance’ of his would not be a strip show and, like a fool, he’d believed him. The afternoon before, he’d watched the inked Delma install a pole (that he’d apparently gotten off the trade market years ago...) at the back of the stage and practice a few (begrudgingly impressive) moves.

But tonight, when the time comes for the showcase’s highly anticipated closing number and Felix quietly flicks on the smoke machine, he is suddenly reminded that Corbin is known around Delma for his exhibitionism, not his honesty. And so, biting his lip nervously, he watches on amidst a whooping crowd as Corbin—on brand as ever—makes a meal out of baring it all.

Check out the full set list on the graphics blog, HERE! Please also check out the source links for the songs as I’ve carefully picked out acoustic versions to represent each in-verse performance as closely as possible! (With the exception of Angel’s songs, who is mostly singing to Echo Tracks). The dance performances feature example source links as well!

                                         ⚔️  Dance Party ⚔️

When the performance showcase is over, the real party begins. Live music is replaced with Echo playlists filtering through the sound system (Felix’s opportunity to boast many of his own dancier tracks, of course), and the relaxed, rustic vibe is no more. The twinkle lights around the bar stay, but with the bass bumping and the moon now high in the sky, Felix slips behind a curtain and starts flicking switches like a tot smashing elevator buttons.

Blacklight tube fluorescents spring to life along the back walls. Overhead, a rotating disco ball blinks multicolours and begins to sparkle and turn. Felix starts cracking and throwing glow sticks and bracelets into the crowd by the the dozens like a manic Twink-Oprah: ‘You get a glow stick and you get a glow stick and you get a glow stick!!’

And finally, the dance floor starts to glow, too. 

Though there is usually some open space in front of the stage, tonight all of the free standing tables have been pushed tighter together into other areas of the bar to make room for the easy-snap LED tiles that have been laid down (in roughly a ten by twelve quadrant). When turned on, these tiles light in a variety of colours and respond to vibrations, pulsing and changing to the beat of music.

The crowd responds well with whoops and cheers and calls for more drinks, and it’s everything Felix had hoped for. It’s also the beginning of everything Crane had warned him about. With the blenders still whirring away with drink orders, and the old, creaky ice machine straining to keep up, Felix’s party is suddenly asking for much more than what the Powerpacks allotted to the Catch can provide. Fortunately for the attendees, between the P-Packs and the back up auxiliary power,  it would be enough to keep the fun afloat. Unfortunately for Felix, his arrogance would yet again be at fault for his own disappointment and embarrassment.

                                       ⚔️ The Mishaps ⚔️

Technically speaking, the disruptions in the rest of the night’s electrical can be relatively easily explained: because of the overloaded power supply, periodical power surges will cause Catch 22′s Powerpack Supply (PPS) to fail, and the back up auxiliary power from the Colony’s main frame to kick in. However, this is a system designed specifically for emergencies, and once the PPS reboots, anything drawing electrical power will falter for a moment as its source switches back to the PPS.

This is the simplified explanation of the cause. However, the visible results, for anyone who doesn’t know anything about electrical systems, just wind up looking a bit like something out of a made-for-TV haunting flick. Of course, after a handful of incidences, the average person may put two and two together rather quickly. Felix, however, despite Crane’s insistent ‘I told you so’s is secretly becoming increasingly convinced that perhaps it’s not the power at all, but rather the Praeterics—the Poltergeists of the Colony—trying to mess with him and ruin his special night.

Below is a list of some of the disruptions experienced periodically over the rest of the night.

Flickering lights: including surging and weakening

Momentary power failures: lights, music and appliances all lose power and return about 8-10 second later with the auxiliary power

Weird humming and buzzing coming from light fixtures and sockets: usually moments before a power failure

Berserk blenders: brief power surges sending any appliances in use on the fritz

Lawless locking mechanisms: due to the frequent switching back and forth between the power supplies, the emergency security systems begin to malfunction. As many blackout protocols include lockdowns for security reasons, the system’s automated lock responses are now getting backed up and confused. The result is individuals getting locked in and out of the Catch’s only washroom (multi-stalls and gender neutral) as well as the front and back doors of the Catch, for periods ranging from two to ten minutes.

The above ‘mishaps’ all occur repeatedly over the course of the evening, some more frequently than others. 

There is one more malfunction slated to occur which does not appear on this list, as it will only happen once near the end of the night, and it will be announced on the main blog sometime before the wrap of the event.

                                       ⚔️ RP Guidelines ⚔️

All our standard event guidelines with which most of you will be familiar apply again, and they are as follows:

As of right now, you may not post any new threads that are not affiliated with the event or in alignment with this timeline.

You may continue any old threads you have going, though we ask that you tag them #preevent or indicate they are pre-event in the timeline. This is just to help keep things clear on the dash as to what’s going on at the party and what’s not.

All new event threads being posted must be titled as such, indicating that they are Event threads. So they could look something like this:

PARTY PARTY YEAHHH // FELIX + WHOEVER // DRUNK MAN’S CHEST OR LIKE:

SHOTS-SHOTS-SHOTS-SHOTS-SHOTS-SHOTS | T.A. & M.P | DMC OR LIKE:

BOOTEH BOOTEH ROCKIN’ EVERYWHERE | CORBIN AND ? {EVENT} …and so on and so forth. Formatting does not matter! Do it however you like. Just indicate somewhere in the title bar that it is event related. 

You are also permitted to do threads that take place anytime Saturday the 5th before the event, if you want to do getting ready threads or anything like that. However, for clarity we suggest you indicate this somewhere in your tags, title or with a timestamp at the top or your starter. 

Also, since it’s a theme party: You may post photos of your character’s clothing/outfit(s) etc, if you wish, but you are by no means obligated to do so. Feel free to post these to your own blog. However, if you make any stylized graphic-art related to the event, please submit them to the graphics blog as usual.

Finally, please tag all your photos, self paras and event starters with #COL22DMC (and don’t forget the regular starter tag for starters as well!) 

Alright, it’s been literally a million days since I started writing this post (I’m not kidding, I’ve somehow been working on this event for about ten hours a day, three days straight *dies*) and I think that just about wraps it up?!?!? I survived!!! Leave it to fucking Felix Turner to make me work so damn hard on a stupid little party.  

A MASSIVE shout out to Lottie for helping me brainstorm and work out the details for the framework of this event, and to Maddie for all her wonderful input with drink menus and other things!! Also, thank you everyone for your patience in reading this mile-long post, and without further adieu, I set you all free to do your RP thang! (Fly my pretties, flyyy!!!) 

And remember! Please, please direct any inquiries you may have along the way to the main blog’s ASK so that the mods can address them publicly if need be in case other people have similar questions or concerns!

Big Big Love,

Your Colony 22 Mods!! Xx

#col22dmc #col22admin #literate rp #original rp #mature rp

[mk-wizard]

She-Ra Final Season Review

Before reading on, I warn you that this review contains a lot of spoilers, so please cease and desist reading if you haven't seen the final season or the series in general of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power on Netflix.

Before I also continue, I have to admit that this is not going to be a positive review. In fact, it's a pretty bad review and I hate saying this because I was absolutely impressed and enamoured with the series, but then the final season left me feeling cheated as it contained many amateur mistakes that affected everything.

Don't get me wrong, there are some good things that came of it which I will list briefly. Number one, we finally got to get to know Netossa and Spinerella. Plus, they turned out to be interesting, entertaining and well rounded characters and you couldn't help, but root for them whether they were together or apart. Number two, King Micah didn't disappoint as he did turn out to be of value to this arc and I like that the fact he was well aware of how absent he was from Glimmer's life was played out. Number three, Scorpia finally found her place somewhere which rightfully was with the side of good and among the princesses after all. She was NEVER a misfit princess at all as all of them are unique and they celebrate that. With that said, she too learned to celebrate her uniqueness. Number four, we got to see the princesses (namely Mermista) find their own strength without being so dependent on She-Ra which they should be considering they literally rule their own kingdoms. Number five, Entrapta found her redemption by finally learning to work with people and to actually care about them rather than always lose herself in her science.

But despite doing all of this, these are the only things I liked in the season.

Everything started to feel wrong for me the moment Bow forgave Glimmer so quickly. Considering the focus of this show are relationships, I was expecting Bow to need more time to forgive her rather than just let everything go in one episode. In Steven Universe which is another show that focuses heavily on relationships, incidents of trust being broken  took into account that rebuilding it and reconciling is a long process. Sometimes, it even spanned through almost an entire season. Having Bow forgive Glimmer immediately after she gives a short monologue is unrealistic and it in fact, cheapens their friendship. It should have taken more episodes and more communication especially on Bow's side.

Then came Wrong-Hordak (yes, that is literally what he is called) who felt like a stand-in for Hordak in the form of comic relief, but this made him very unnecessary and also pretty grating if I may be so bold because the real Hordak was still alive and present in the season. Moreover, there are so many comic relief characters. Wrong-Hordak felt like a replacement with all of the edge and character development taken out, and what is worse is that he never really developed into something which was not already there.

Speaking of Hordak, as a big fan of this new deep incarnation of him, I felt very short changed when I saw how he was barely used and only carried over his new found individually to give him the strength to stand up to Horde Prime at the end. And even then, his body was soon taken over like a puppet on a string. Considering how far Hordak came, this was not fair. I mentioned on Tumblr that it would have been a lot better if his defect started to come up again, but this time, he used it as a strength. In other words, his defect made him able to disconnect from Horde Prime hive mind whenever he wanted making him the ideal spy and in the end, when Horde Prime tried to take over his body, he couldn't because of that. This would showcase Hordak in not only a new light, but represent people in his position that he isn't "defective" at all and that everyone is the way they are for a reason. Nobody is a mistake no matter how imperfect they are.

Next was Shadow Weaver's redemption which felt tacked on because even though she had bits of good in her, she was kind of person who was beyond redemption because she was the biggest repeat offender in the series. She wasn't even traumatised into the dark side. She chose her path and stuck on it by continuing to be power hungry, a plotter and a manipulator. Her redemption literally came out of nowhere and she should have had more moments with King Micah considering he was her former pupil when she was Light Spinner not Castaspella.

Next, there was Catra's redemption. Unlike Shadow Weaver, I could see Catra redeeming herself, but like the mending of Bow and Glimmer's relationship, it came too fast and honestly, I was shocked that Adora went back to pleading for her to come back to her so hard the instead Catra did one good thing. While it was in character for Adora to go back and save Catra from Horde Prime, it made no sense for her to be so forgiving of all her crimes. If anything, it is because Adora loved her so much that I would imagine she would be the most hesitant towards forgiving her in which case, Catra would be the one pleading for Adora to start being more cautious and care more about herself.  The only positive thing I could say about Catra's redemption was that she acted more believable in the end and finally confessed her love to Adora. However, it does change that the journey needed more time.

Finally, all of the little questions were never answered which left big gaping holes in the story. Who was Adora really? Who were the First Ones? What is Eternia, Grayskull and how does it relate to Horde Prime? How did Horde Prime start his reign of terror? What is Horde Prime's backstory and what is his real name? What were Hordak's Horde troops doing once Horde Prime came along? What more could be said behind the history of She-Ra even long before Mara? Where did Catra come from? These questions all matter and not answering them leaves the story feeling unfinished because they are relevant to the plot.

I still think this series is great overall despite stumbling at the end and Noelle Stevenson is still a great writer in my opinion, but the final season was pretty bad and it needed more episodes and possibly even a sixth season for everything to have been resolved properly.

I give She-Ra's final season a 3/10. It did deliver on giving us a few things we wanted to see, but the amount of amateur mistakes just couldn't be overlooked. I do hope that if She-Ra once again gets rebooted, good professional writing will remain consistent especially at the end because a good story is like a good restaurant; you're only as good as your last meal.

#She-Ra #She Ra #netflix she ra #she-ra spoilers #review #negative review #negative #tv shows #tv series #horde clones #horde prime #hordak #she ra entrapta #she ra season five #she ra season 5 #glimmer #catra shera #catra

[crazy-little-thing-called-fanfic]

Chasing the Moon Ch 4

Teacher!AU

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

The weeks continued to go by my senior year of Seunghyun continuously trying to be inconspicuous when he would see me in the hallway, or if we would bump into each other. I purposefully would flirt with the guys in my grade as much as I could. I didn’t need people assuming that there was actually anything going on between Seunghyun and I. Luckily, Camden and I didn’t always have the same class, so she was constantly spreading rumors about Seunghyun to draw people’s attention to other issues than the truth. 

“Do you understand how much work it is for me to create random shit on the spot about your boy so people don’t suspect a thing?” Camden crashed her head into my lap at her place, letting out a heavy sigh. 

“About as much effort as it takes for you to sleep with a new guy at a party every weekend?” Not as low of a shot as you all think. Camden was notorious for getting any fling that she could get without even trying. Who said she had to? She had gorgeous blonde hair with blue eyes. Of course, she had the hour glass figure to go along with it. Camden just stared back at me. “I would be offended if it weren’t true. But yes, honestly no effort at all.”

She was like a cat as she stretched and turned onto her side. “Play with my hair.” I ran my fingers through her hair while I contemplated my life. “You know that we have a pep rally tomorrow right? The main game for the pep rally is a three legged race where we’re pairing some of the teachers with the students.” 

I stopped running my fingers through her hair long enough for her to look up at me. “Camden, why are you telling me this?” She sat up. “The reason I’m telling you this is because there are six teachers and six students who are playing. We drew the names at random. You and Choi have been picked.” I threw my head back in annoyance.

“Camden! You’re supposed to be helping me avoid my boyfriend, not pushing me into his arms!” Camden pushed off of the couch, and kneeled in front of me, pointing her finger at me. “Now don’t you blame this on me. I’m not captain of the cheerleaders, I’m just on the team! What was I supposed to do, say ‘no don’t pick either one of them?’ Like that wouldn’t have blown back up in my face. And besides, we haven’t picked the partners yet! We were going to do that in the morning. We’re using an app to make the teams so no one can manipulate it.” She stood up and grabbed her things. “Get the fuck over your problem. You overreacting like this is what’s going to be your downfall. If Choi continues to be himself around you, don’t act like anything is happening okay? Get the fuck over it.” 

She slammed the door as she left my house. She left me in the silence of my house in shock. Maybe I was overreacting. Every fiber in my being was so tense the rest of the night, replaying what Camden had said to me on repeat. Get the fuck over it. There was a small part of me that knew she was just talking out of anger. The rest of me knew she was more than likely done with my situation. My parents didn’t care to acknowledge that I was upset. They just assumed it was school shit. Which, they weren’t wrong per se. Although, it was nice knowing they would just let me be with my emotions for the night. 

I awoke the next morning to a string of texts from Seunghyun. All of which were just questioning if I was okay, if I was free for the night, and how much he loved me. While I loved when he was this way, it did annoy me from time to time. I wanted him to realize there were nights that I just wanted to be left alone. 

Good morning sweetheart, yeah I’m okay. I had a ton of things on my mind that I needed to work out so I shut my phone off. I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you last night. I love you and can't wait to see you today!

I threw on Seunghyun’s ripped jeans, my vans, paired with one of seunghyun’s black t-shirts and flannels that always swallowed me when I wore them. It was always one of my favorite outfits. No matter how many times they’ve been washed, his scent has yet to leave these clothes. I left the house, reminding myself that I would no longer live in fear of something actually happening. The kids at my school aren’t the smartest anyways. 

As always, everyone was excited for the pep rally as soon as I pulled up to the school. Banners were draped across the front of the school and each football player's cars were tagged by their “Bleacher babes”. Our school had this weird tradition of each football player asking one girl to watch them from the bleachers and cheer for them. The girls would also take it upon themselves to bring gifts and goodie bags to “their guy” as a sign of good luck. In my opinion, these traditions were horrible because they made every other girl that wasn’t chosen to feel like shit. 

I walked into the school to hear every varsity player yelling and gearing up to be in the pep rally. The bleachers in the gym were split up by grade. Freshman started on the first set of bleachers closest to the left side gym door and each grade wrapped around. Of course being a senior, meant that our grade was “supposed” to have the most spirit during these things because ‘this would be our most cherished moments of our senior year’. The thing is, I hated school spirit. I hated dressing up for a school that always called me into the principal's office nearly every week due to some ridiculous accusation. I hated cheering on a football team that most of them wouldn’t even talk to me in class. But, because my love for Camden, my group of friends and I always made sure we at least cheered her on since the cheerleaders were only in season with the football team. 

As soon as a clearing made through for me to find my seat on the bleachers, I noticed Seunghyun in black skinny jeans, red converse, and a black button up with the sleeves rolled. A little unconventional for a school teacher, but had me dripping when he even smirked in my direction. “Hey (Y/N), pick up your damn jaw. People are gonna notice if you stare at Mr. Choi. And besides, I look twice as better than him today alone.” 

A heavy set of arms were wrapped around my waist. I looked over my shoulder to see Bobby’s dark brown eyes staring into my soul. “It you want someone to make you wet, all you gotta do is ask (Y/N).” The two of us were always flirtatious with each other and I didn’t mind people thinking we were in a relationship. I especially didn’t mind if it got people off my back about Seunghyun. 

I leaned my body into his. “I’m not really in an asking mood, and it seems like you’re not either.” I felt his bulge pressed against my lower back getting harder. “If you continue that, I might just fuck you in Mr. Choi’s room since you’re so hung up on him.”

With Bobby mentioning his name again, it felt like someone threw water onto my face. I looked up and saw Seunghyun scowling in our direction. I knew this was the worst thing to do, but it would save our relationship in the long run. Seunghyun turned away from us and went to talk to the new freshman English teacher, Ms. Lee. I had to admit, she had an amazing figure that I always craved. She was the type of person who could wear sweats with heels and look absolutely sexy in them. I could see Seunghyun lean into her as she had a smile on her face. She placed a hand on his arm while he made her laugh. Obviously I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but I could blatantly see her flirting with him. She seemed to crave his attention as well. 

Reality brought me back to attention when Bobby moved into my line of sight. “Babe, we gonna go find a seat or just let the dipshits take our spots?” I rolled my eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me babe hon?”

“Oh so you can call me hon but I can’t call you babe?” He bit his lip as he pulled me closer to him. I have to be honest with myself. If I wasn’t with Seunghyun, I would let Bobby take me any way he wants whenever he wants. He’s too attractive to say no to. “Oh but see, here’s the difference. When I call you hon, I’m being purely platonic. When you call me babe, there’s other meanings behind it. Don’t ruin the innocent flirtation thing we have going on. I promise, the moment I breakup with my boyfriend, I’ll just show up to your place unannounced for some rebound sex. Sound good sweetheart?” I kiss his cheek and walk away before he could come up with a retort of his own.

The pep band led off the school’s fight song to bring in the cheerleaders and football players. They all came in like a pack of hyenas looking for their next prey. They didn’t even hesitate to stampede into their respective bleachers and scream like banshees towards the others. It was always a sight to see boys act like that. “Do you think they realize that no matter how much they act like that, they’re still going to lose the game?” Bobby whispered into my ear.

“They don’t, but don’t spoil the fun. That’s the only reason I go to football games.” I look back to the center of the gym floor to see that the cheerleaders have already lined up the teachers on one side of the gym. “We decided to do a three legged race this week! In the spirit of the game, everyone has been chosen at random! Teachers, your job is to help your student get to the other end of the gym, help them get the jersey on and make it back before the other teams. Last one back had to wear one of the jerseys of the opposing team that we’re playing for the remainder of the day!” 

The crowd erupts in a series of cheers, boos, and laughter. I’m too preoccupied staring at Seunghyun to realize that they’ve already placed the students with their teachers to realize that my name has been called too. “(Y/N), go! Be apart of the chaos for once!” Bobby nudges me out of the bleacher. I briskly walk over to Camden who’s waiting to lead me over to my teacher.

“Not gonna lie, I wasn’t quite paying attention. Which teacher am I paired with?” Camden doesn’t look back in my direction. “Sorry hon, you’re with Seunghyun. Just remember to get the fuck over it yeah?” I look up like a deer caught in headlights to see the same expression over Seunghyun's face. 

“Fuck.” That’s all I could muster during that time frame. Whether it was because of the situation, or the amount of heat that was pooling in my mid section due to what Seunghyun was wearing was something I never quite figured out. “Well, it’s nice to see you too sweetheart. Nice to see that I have your attention again.” Seunghyun leaned over to get my leg into the strap that was already around his leg. Even though his fingers were just grazing my skin, it set every part of my body ablaze. 

“How dare you wear my clothes while letting the great value brand version of myself hold you in such a way. If you keep that up, I’m going to have to remind you who you are dating.” Seunghyun said all of this so casually that I didn’t realize he was actually talking to me at first, until he stood up and his eyes were dark with lust and rage. “I don’t think this enlarged rubber band would do anything, how about my silk ties? I think those would hold you in place in my classroom, yes?” 

My jaw dropped slightly. Seunghyun was never the person to be this open in public, let alone at his workplace. While I was turned on over how nonchalant this conversation was, I was still frightened to see what would actually happen in that moment. “You’re being pretty brazen yourself Mr. Choi. To speak to your student in such a way with our peers so close to us? Scandalous.” I turned my head towards the front. “If you let that teacher place her hands on you again, I won’t even give you a chance to explain yourself. Also, don’t try to one up me in sex talk babe. The only reason I’m not going to delve into this is because we’re at school. If I say anything else, I’m going to need you to take me right here right now.”

“Oh, is this a promise? Don’t tempt me with a good time. I’ll gladly lose my job with the way you’re looking today. I already knew you were sexy, I just didn’t realize how appetizing you would look in my jeans.” 

“Children, I’m still right fucking here.” Camden spoke up, standing in front of both of us. “First off, the two of y’all are absolutely fucking disgusting in general. Second of, y’all better be happy y’all are out of earshot of the other contestants. Otherwise, you’d be headed to jail right now Seunghyun. Control y’all selves.” Both Seunghyun and I laughed at the tomato red Camden as she re-explained the rules to us and how to win. We both nodded in understanding as Camden left us. 

I looked around at the other student teacher duos to see that they were all duos of the opposite sex. They all had their inner arms wrapped around each other, preparing for the buzzer to go off for the start of the race. Hesitantly, I wrapped my arm around his waist. He was too tall for me to try and wrap my arm around his shoulders. 

“Let’s win this race jagiya.” Seunghyun winks at me before wrapping his arm over my shoulders. The buzzer went off and Seunghyun was practically holding me while running towards the other end of the gym. I could hear the crowds of students cheering for their favorite duo. Looking beside me, I could see some of the duos falling trying to keep up with us. Seunghyun threw the jersey on me as we rounded the last corner with the finish line in sight. Obviously we won that, it was hard for the other older teachers to keep up with Seunghyun.

The senior section erupted into an endless stream of cheers of victory against the underclassmen. I stepped out of the band just in time for Bobby and the rest of my friends to tackle me for a victory hug, pushing Seunghyun out of the way. “Great job babe! Way to actually try at something for once!” Bobby placed a kiss on my cheek, and I instinctively looked back towards Seunghyun. The hooded, pure black eyes that looked at Bobby scared me. I wasn’t in fear of my relationship at that moment, I was in fear for what Seunghyun would do to Bobby.

I tried to return the hug, but a set of hands came in between the two of us. “Public displays of affection aren’t tolerated you two.” Seunghyun stepped in between Bobby and I, facing in his direction. “Mr. Jiwon, please do your best to remember this when hugging your female classmates while trying to hide a boner okay?” 

“The name is Bobby Mr. Choi. And please do your best to not come in between my girlfriend and myself again yes?” Bobby reached over grabbing my arm and pulling me close to him. “There’s no rule in the handbook saying I couldn’t kiss her on the cheek, just rules saying I can’t fuck her in front of everyone.” I finally looked back at Seunghyun, who was fuming by this point. “Mr. Choi, I apologize for Bobby’s behavior, we’re going back to our seats to enjoy the rest of the pep rally.” I held his gaze, hoping that my pleading eyes for him to stop would get through to him. He was able to eventually calm down enough to let us go, but not before giving us a verbal warning. 

Bobby wrapped his arm around me as we walked back to our seats. “It sure seems like Mr. Choi may have a thing for you (Y/N). I’m not going to let him take you away from me. You’re mine.” I pushed Bobby off of me, and looked up at him in anger. “I don’t know why you constantly like to push things too far Bobby. First, you know I have a boyfriend, so you saying that I’m your girlfriend was completely uncalled for. Which also means I’m not yours. Second quit trying to push the boundaries with the teachers, they’re just trying to do their job. Third, let Mr. Choi have a thing for me. It doesn’t mean I’m ever going to go for him, he’s not my type.” Saying those words pulled at my heart, forcing it further into my stomach. I know that I didn’t mean them, I just hated keeping up with this lie.

The rest of the day went with a blur. Getting empty congratulations from classmates that didn’t give two shits about me, and pushing Bobby away for taking things too far this time. When the time for lunch came, Camden grabbed my arm and shoved me into her car. 

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” She punched my arm. “I’m saving your fucking relationship after that shit show presentation at the pep rally. She throws her car into drive and drove across town. When we finally came to a stop, I looked up to see Seunghyun standing in front of her car. “Camden, why did you drive me to his place?”

“Because the two of you have way too much sexual frustration pent up because of Bobby, so enjoy your weekend and I see you later.” She threw open my door and kicked me out of the car, into Seunghyun’s arms. I didn’t dare look up at him out of fear of the pool that was already soaking my underwear. 

“Ah jagiya.” He lifts me into his arms and places a hand under my chin to look up at him. “It’s time to remind you exactly whose you are after that show you put on today.”

#chasing the moon #choi seunghyun #bigbang #BIGBANG TOP #bigbang fanfic

[missfaber]

author interview

I was tagged by @orangeflavoryawp, thank you so much! 

I already know I’m going to enjoy this way too much, writing is such a lonely endeavor and I just love talking about it, sooo... I apologize in advance for rambling. 

name: Madeline/Maddie 

fandoms: this is complicated because there’s fandoms I very much consider myself a part of because they’re just a huge part of my life, even though I don’t contribute content to them, and then there’s fandoms I do create content for. So idk where the line is drawn! 

fandoms I contribute/ have contributed to: Avatar the Last Airbender, Game of Thrones, Merlin BBC, Once Upon a Time, Legend of Korra

fandoms I haven’t contributed to but are so dear to me: Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings (my two favorite things ironically lol), and lots more 

where you post: AO3, used to be ff.net and livejournal too

most popular one shot: by kudos, it’s as if death itself was undone (zutara, atla: katara wakes up to azula in their house and wants to find out a) why she is welcome b) why zuko is acting so weird) 

most popular multichapter: by kudos, it’s soldier, go bravely on (jonsa + gendrya, got, complete, rewrite of the last episode of got with sweetness and angst and action, and may i say some common sense?)

favorite story you wrote: fuck omg this is difficult lol! because I both criticize and love all my stories in equal measure, I honestly don’t write anything that i don’t love, that doesn’t give me butterflies / actual chest pain (from angst). I feel like I’m being asked to choose a favorite child lol. so I’ll try to justify these picks somehow... 

closest to my heart: soldier, go bravely on (also mentioned above). this is the fic that brought me back to writing fic, and to tumblr even! I was on hiatus (that I didn’t know was a hiatus because I had no intention of coming back) for six years before writing this fic. I wrote it so quickly after the got finale, it was such a passionate and fevered few days and it just sucked me back in to everything I used to love as a teenager. It was also a nice stretch out of my comfort zone, because of the dialogue (which was so tightly planned it’s ridiculous, I wrote the whole fic as a screenplay type thing first to make sure there wasn’t a single dialogue word not needed) and tv-episode style. It’s also such a wish-fulfillment fic that I can’t read certain parts without getting a bit teary. for all those reasons and more, this fic will always be so special to me. 

most proud of: wolf, circle north (jonsa, got, alternate season 7 & 8). this is the longest fic I’ve ever attempted and the number I’ve hours I’ve sunk into it is astounding and i should be ashamed.  It’s going to be obscenely long (my outline is 70+ chapters) and when I pull it off, best believe it’s going into a bound book so I can look at how thicc it is and be like, “I did that!” lol. The range of POVs is one of the most challenging but most rewarding part of this fic, and why I’m so proud of it. This is another wish-fulfillment fic for me, not just because it’s another fix-it fic but because I have been writing bits and pieces of this fic for about three years. I kept thinking of jonsa scenarios and little scenes I would have loved to see after season 6 and writing them in a little secret doc, just for me, as I never thought I’d write fic again. After writing “soldier” i had already broken my hiatus and I realized this fic was an actual possibility, so I put it out into the world. I couldn’t be more happy that I did that. Not only did it give me the chance to be in such an excellent, lovely fandom, but the feedback I get is so validating after having this be my secret little project for so long.  

most formative: Coffee & Cigarettes, (merthur, merlin bbc) I’m ashamed to list this and the merthurs reading this 100% want to kill me for having the audacity because it’s incomplete and hasn’t been updated since 2013 when there’s only one chapter left so what’s my excuse?  I call this the most formative for me because until I published this I didn’t really have a fic that people followed and liked, eagerly awaited updates for, and commented regularly on. I was writing a lot of one-shots and atla stuff on tumblr (I used to RP lmao I was like 15 ok?) This was the first time I experienced so many fic-life things, like being excited to get AO3 emails, etc. This was the first time I started to really focus on character which is so important to me now, my writing is completely character driven. Not to mention Merlin and Arthur’s dumbassery and sheer attraction and denial is just... *chef’s kiss* 

guiltiest pleasure: my recent foray into nedsei, who am I??? one more word and you won’t survive, just international hate sex

story you were most nervous to post: ummm idk I’m usually excited not nervous, since for me fic writing is just fun, I write things I’d enjoy reading and that I’m proud of. I read my own fics more than anyone else does, I guarantee it. am I a narcissist? who knows I guess I’ll say “soldier” again because I hadn’t posted fic in six years.

how you choose your titles: wow the hardest part of fic writing for me!!!!! thanks!!!!! lol. Okay so for my work titles, which are always terrible and I literally regret them immediately after posting, it’s usually just some words I play around with and string together that are somewhat thematic and related to the work... they’re always terrible lmao, I hate making titles. I mean, look at “soldier, go bravely on” and “wolf, circle north” for god’s sake, I hate them lmao. But I have to pick a title to post, so!!! For chapter titles and one-shots I’ll usually go with a song lyric, and especially for my chapter titles I spend so long seeking out the perfect one that reflects some thematic or emotional content of the chapter somehow. I’m very proud of my chapter titles for wolf, circle north. I have a doc on my scrivener just for chapter titles that I created in the very early stages of writing it, where I just dumped HUNDREDS of song lyrics that I thought I might use. Then by them I wrote some scenarios where they could work. here’s a screenshot:

It’s so helpful now. Sometimes posting an update will take an hour more than necessary because of me going through that doc, finding the perfect lyric. 

do you outline: OH, DO I OUTLINE... Hell Yeah, I outline. I couldn’t live without outlining. I love outlining. My outlines have outlines. I’m a planner centric, calendar centric, bullet-journal bitch so of course I love outlining. In all seriousness though: I write out of chronological order. I feel my writing is best when I write the scene I’m in the mood to write- unfortunately this scene could be ten chapters down the line from the chapter I’m gonna post next. This is the biggest reason outlining is necessary for me. If I didn’t have an outline, my story would be a non-post-able mess. 

I wasn’t kidding when I said my outlines have outlines. For wolf, circle north I have, um, a few. Character/location centric outlines where I bullet every scene that needs to happen for that plot to happen cohesively (these were all more or less completed before I even started writing the fic), then a “loose” outline that I copy everything from the other outlines into for some semblance of chronological order, then a Polished Final Outline that I write from. I know that sounds psychotic. It’s how my brain works. Some photo evidence/explanation:

And here’s a screengrab of my Final Outline, this is pretty much how it is all the way down- The POV character is italicized in the front, I talk to myself a lot in there, let myself get carried away, will sometimes write out whole segments of the scene if they come to me while outlining. Spoilers for chapters 1-3 of w,cn I guess!!!

Then, because scrivener is awesome, I get to see this outline in the corkboard view (I input every scene as a card) and so I get to see every part of my outline as a Synopsis on the right hand side of the doc where I’m writing the scene:

The POV and status tags (which are completely customizable) on the lower right are helpful too. This post is just a scrivener ad. 

complete: 9 works 

in progress: 4 works

coming soon / not yet started: I have so many fics in the works, I’m an indulgent person so if an idea comes to me I usually go with it for a time. I’ve had a very not-serious Jonsa PLL AU I’ve been writing on and off since summer. I have three different fairytale AUs (also jonsas) I’ve been working on and one time travel AU for @sunbeamsandmoonrays. I can’t say when or if any of these will see the light of day, because my priority is my WIPs and my original writing. But the most prevalent are my Halloween fics (one jonsa, one gendrya, one merthur) which I really want to be able to put out this month, but only if I meet some other goals. I’m trying to rein in my indulgent ass, ya’ll. 

do you accept prompts: no. sorry! but I do workshop ideas with friends, for example the nedsei fic happened that way by talking with @flibbertigiblet. But I don’t take writing prompts in my inbox. 

upcoming story you are most excited to write: my halloween merthur fic. it’s witchy, sassy, and I’m so excited to get back into the heads of these characters.

Tagging! @uchihabat @anniebibananie @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth @sailorshadzter @vivilove-jonsa and any other lovely writer soul who wants to do this!

#askjshssj thanks for reading this lol i went off! #my writing #writing things #jonsa #merthur #zutara #fanfiction #fanfiction writing

[themeatlife]

the Meat Life Stay-At-Home Watchlist

Chronicling what I have watched or rewatched through the pandemic so far

The world has changed around us the last few months, particularly in the United States since March 11.  With the lack of events to hit up, like most Americans I’ve been catching up on some watching through the various streaming services and my own digital copies of movies and shows.

I didn’t really think of keeping up with what I have been watching until just recently, but here is what I can remember hitting up so far since I’ve spent the majority of the time at home.  Some are favorites that I would have watched anyway.  Some were unfinished until I got a chance to get back to them.  And others just became available.

Here’s what I remember of the watchlist:

The Office (Netfilx) This is a favorite of me and the wife.  We watch this on the regular though.  My wife uses The Office as her lullaby of sorts, putting it on in the evening as she gets ready for bed and is in bed to fall asleep.  I did a post on the 15th anniversary, so I won’t really deep-dive.

Gossip Girl (Netflix) Another one that my wife rotates with The Office as her lullaby.  The series is not bad, it’s basically The OC in Manhattan (both are created and developed by Josh Schwartz).  It also takes on a new perspective when you think about star Penn Badgley is the creep in You.  So Dan Humphrey gets this weird creeper Joe Goldberg vibe at times.

Parks and Recreation (Netflix) I never got into Parks and Rec on its original run.  I was encouraged to check it out by some coworkers since I liked The Office.  It is a great show, very funny, and poignant in a way.  It feels like a throwback to when people could disagree politically and still get along.  There is a lot less of that nowadays.  We might need more Parks and Rec in real life.  I started this right before the pandemic and finished around the beginning of things getting locked down.

Frozen II (Disney+) The sequel debuted on Disney+ early on in the quarantine period.  My family enjoyed it.  I thought it was entertaining, but I felt like it was weighted down a bit by the mythology explaining.  It seemed too busy explaining a lot of things.  Still an enjoyable movie, but the first is better.

Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem, and Madness (Netflix) Intriguing.  The series debuted early in the quarantine period and became a staple of stay-at-home viewing and a runaway hit.  Lots of WTF moments.  It was like the train wreck analogy to the Nth degree.  But you can tell it was made in a way that leans in favor of Joe Exotic, making him look like a victim in the last couple episodes.  Also gave way to memorable memes ever since.

The Rocketeer (Disney+) I haven’t watched this movie since I was a kid.  Looking back, you can see a lot of The Rocketeer in Captain America - The First Avenger.  Easy to see though, since they share the same director Joe Johnston.  Prior to America’s involvement in World War II, a movie star Nazi goes after an experimental rocket pack developed by Howard Hughes.  The rocket pack is retrieved by accident from a down on luck stunt pilot.  Fun movie.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (Disney+) I should have watched the entire Skywalker saga leading up to it, but I figured I have a ton of time to do that later.  This was a May the 4th watch.  I haven’t watched the Skywalker saga finale since it was in theaters.  It’s not a bad movie, I just feel it could have been a lot better with some modifications here and there.  Also, I believe this was going to be the Leia movie.  The Force Awakens was Han’s swan song, as was The Last Jedi for Luke.  I feel like this would have been great for Leia but obviously they were limited due to the untimely death of Carrie Fisher.  The scene where Ren/Ben speaks with Han after battling Rey would have hit harder with Leia instead of Han.

Trolls: World Tour (VOD) Cute kid movie.  Was nice to hear a lot of familiar music.  Sucks that rock was the villain in the first couple acts.  Seeing it once was enough, though.  Like the first Trolls, I am glad my kids enjoyed it but did not participate in excessive multiple viewings.

Onward (Disney+) Didn’t get a chance to catch this at the theater before they closed them down.  Great movie, but gosh.  Why does Pixar always pull at the heart strings like that?  I was quietly crying to myself at the end.  I’m glad we made our living room dark theater-style, otherwise my kids would have seen me all torn up.

Fast and Furious 5-7 (Fast Five - HBO, The Fast and the Furious 6/Furious 7 - Digital) I ended up not watching the entire series.  There is a great trilogy within the series, 5-7 was that trilogy.  Fast Five was the best of the FF franchise and where it perfected their movie formula.  It was like an action Ocean’s Eleven with cars.  6 and 7 expanded on that formula, upping the humor and ridiculousness factor.  6 had the exits of the Han and Gisele characters (they found a way to tie in Tokyo Drift to the rest of the series, Gal Gadot was on her way to becoming Wonder Woman for DC).  And 7 had that great ending with the tribute to Paul Walker to the sounds of Wiz Khalifa and Charlie Puth.

Toy Story 4 (Disney+) Another Pixar hit.  Didn’t hit me quite as hard as Onward or Toy Story 3 did emotionally, thank goodness.  I thought this story was over the way Toy Story 3 ended.  But Pixar did a good job adapting to prolong these characters stories.  It did feel like it was a bit of two and three combined looking back.  Still very good, Pixar knows what it’s doing.

The Marvel Infinity Saga (Disney+/Netflix/Digital) Leading up to the one-year anniversary of the release of Avengers: Endgame, I went through and rewatched all 23 MCU movies.  This time, I went in chronological story order by starting with Captain America - The First Avenger.  I chronicled the order I watched in my last post.  Even after viewing many of these movies multiple times, I’m still amazed at how much I enjoy them and the scope of what Marvel was able to achieve leading into the climax in Endgame.

Community (Netflix/Hulu) I loved Community on its initial run on NBC but never watched any of the episodes when it was on Yahoo for its sixth season.  It has been great to rewatch the meta-humor and sitcom trope parodies.  And since Ken Jeong and Joel McHale started their own podcast called The Darkest Timeline (half COVID-19, half Community pod), it has been a good companion viewing.

The Back to the Future Trilogy (Netflix) Recent add to Netflix for easy viewing, these movies have been a favorite of the Mitra boys since childhood.  Upon viewing as an adult, there is some humor that I didn’t recognize as a kid that is hilarious to me now.  It is also crazy how well this teen time-travel sci-fi comedy works.  Some of the effects in Part 2 are dated and 2015 didn’t quite end up the way it did in the movies.  But overall very enjoyable on the rewatch!

Extraction (Netflix) High budget action flick funded by Netflix?  Written by the Russo Brothers?  And staring Chris Hemsworth?  I’m in!  Directed by long-time stunt man and Russo Bros go-to stunt coordinator Sam Hargrave (you can tell the Russo influence).  It has an awesome 15ish minute one-shot action/chase sequence that is top notch.  Don’t think much about the plot or the controversy of cultural representation, just enjoy the action.

The Mighty Ducks Trilogy (HBO) Another childhood favorite of mine.  Nevermind that the hockey itself isn’t accurate.  This is about pure fun for an hour and a half at a time.  Come for the hi-jinx, stay for the heart.  Triple-deke, knuckle-puck, taking out the trash.  And leave it out on the ice!

The Harry Potter Series (Blu-Ray/Digital) This was not a go-to for me until Linda made me watch the entire series.  I guess when the first movie came out, it was too much of a kid movie for me (I was a high school senior at the time).  But from the second movie onward, it felt like the storytelling and movie making got better and better.  The Deathly Hallows was an epic ending, even if they did change the ending from the book.  I didn’t watch the newer Fantastic Beasts movies along with this though, my wife did.

Westworld - Season 3 (HBO) Recently got HBO back, so I caught up on Westworld Season 3.  I haven’t rewatched the previous seasons yet, but I may revisit it soon.  Season 1 was spectacular, Season 2 was confusing as hell but still entertaining.  Season 3 is somewhere in between, expanding on the ongoing storyline.  It was more straight-forward because its storyline is in the “real-world.”  For those of you that have watched, didn’t you think it was highly ironic that the Incite ball was basically the AT&T logo? (AT&T is the parent company for WarnerMedia and HBO)

The Last Dance (ESPN/ESPN+) The Michael Jordan docu-series has been a god-sent for sports fans devoid of live American sports for the past couple months.  Is it Jordan-biased?  Sure.  But it is full of drama and intrigue and full of nostalgia.  The NBA had commissioned a camera crew to follow the 1997-1998 Chicago Bulls on their run for their sixth NBA championship.  Jordan owned the controlling rights to the footage and unlocked it after the 2016 NBA Finals.  So this documentary was years in the making and with the pandemic the release date was moved up.  Although it featured a lot of unseen footage, it also chronicled the years leading up to the 1998 Bulls title.  The last 5 Sundays have been awesome.

The Princess Bride (Disney+) I haven’t watched this movie since I was a kid.  It wasn’t one of my recurring watches back then.  So this was actually my second viewing of this movie ever.  I found it quite enjoyable.  It was cheesy, but fun, and a good family watch.  One of the many older titles available on Disney+.

Scoob (VOD) My kids had some of the older Scooby Doo episodes on DVD and watched them when they were younger.  This was a fun revisit for them and for us as parents.  It was actually cool seeing a lot of the Hanna-Barbera characters in one movie.  We watched this shortly after finishing Community, and my kids recognized Ken Jeong’s voice as Dynomutt.  My daughter hilariously shouted “Senor Chang!” when she recognized him.

The Indiana Jones Series (Netflix) I introduced my son to Indiana Jones a few months ago watching Raiders of the Lost Ark.  He loved it.  He lost a little bit of interest during the Temple of Doom, I think the character Short Round lost it for him (character hasn’t aged well).  The Last Crusade reclaimed his interest.  Harrison Ford was at his natural apex playing Indiana Jones.  I did not watch the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.  I didn’t feel the need to revisit that installment, while it was enjoyable the alien ending ruined the lead up to it.

The Dark Knight Trilogy (Batman Begins/The Dark Knight - Hulu, The Dark Knight Rises - Digital) Every few years I try to revisit this series.  It is the best thing DC has ever put out cinematically.  While Begins and Rises is more comic book, TDK is a straight crime drama set in the world of Batman.  My favorite is Rises, but the absolute best comic book movie remains The Dark Knight, even with the advent of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Jurassic Park/Jurassic World Series (Jurassic Park/The Lost World: Jurassic Park - Blu-Ray, Jurassic World - Digital, Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom - Cinemax) The original Jurassic Park is such a great movie.  Rewatching, it’s crazy how well the effects for the dinosaurs hold up.  Steven Spielberg, Stan Winston, and ILM did a great job mixing animatronic and CGI dino effects that stand the test of time.  The Lost World was enjoyable but not as good as the original.  I skipped JP III, such a bad movie.  Jurassic World was a good way to reboot the series, basically a remake of the original but incorporating a lot of references to it.  I just finished Fallen Kingdom today.  Although Fallen Kingdom was entertaining, it fails to recapture some of the magic of JP and JW.

I’m not sure what I will hit up next.  I might hit some Keanu Reeves movies like Speed, the Matrix Trilogy, and/or the John Wick Trilogy.  Maybe Top Gun.  Maybe rewatch Friends or How I Met Your Mother.  Maybe something on HBO Max when it comes out like The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.  Maybe Terminator.  Possibilities are endless, at least until some American sports return.

[johnheintz]

Winners and Losers in the Coronavirus Stimulus

I have a group chat I share with three friends. We are old friends with wildly different life paths. I’m a teacher, lawyer, writer in Chicago, and Jim in an entrepreneur in Chicago.  Steve is a hospital administrator in New York. Pete is a scientist in Vermont. 

Early in January, Pete heard the news of this new virus from a Wuhan, China, wet market. Pete researches disease and drugs for a living, and since he’s talking with friends, he occasionally lets himself be wrong for dramatic effect. 

Coronavirus was big. His posts were dramatic, and when the rest of us teased him, he pushed back, explaining how “we’re screwed.” Over the next month, Pete would be proven entirely correct. By mid-March no one on earth hadn’t heard of Covid-19 and its cause, the novel coronavirus. Even Congress was listening. 

Two disasters loomed. The millions likely to die would only be outweighed by the total failure of the global economy that could impoverish the world in a way never seen in modern times. No reasonable person disagreed with either disaster. 

For the first time in a decade, Democrats and Republicans in Congress started talking. The health crisis required instantaneous action mostly already within the statutory authority of the Executive branch. The economic crisis needed legislative action. People needed to stop moving around and spreading the virus, and it had to happen immediately. This meant no one who couldn’t work from home could work at all. No work meant no money. No money meant no food and no home. People with no money in the bank, which meant most Americans, needed money immediately or they would go to work and spread the virus because they would have no other choice. 

I need to defend Congress here. The President dithered, but the Majority and Minority leaders in the House and Senate moved quickly to act. 

Quick action reveals instincts. When you’re in a crisis, you respond using the reasoning capacities you’ve built up prior to the crisis. When in the crisis itself, you react. Congress reacted, and the subsequent bill tells us a lot about the default positions of the Democratic and Republican parties. 

What is the Act?

It’s called the CARES Act, the Coronavirus Aid, Relief and Economic Security Act. You’ve already heard it’s $2 trillion. The government is spending money, so that’s why it’s being called a “stimulus.” There are good reasons not to call it a stimulus, since governments take stimulus actions to encourage economic growth. This bill is doing the opposite. It’s encouraging people to stop economic activity, or at least to stop economic activity that is not essential. The goal of the bill? ”Freezing the economy in amber“ or ”putting the economy into an induced coma” are two metaphors explaining the goal of the stimulus, but for those of us who live in a partisan world, a world where government is either spending or not spending money, this is massive government spending that can comfortably be called a stimulus.   

Who are the winners?

There are three big winners in the bill. Individuals get 30% of the stimulus. Big corporations get 25%. And small business, state and local governments and public services share the remaining 45%. Democrats insisted on the direct payments and the unemployment increases, and Republicans insisted on saving big businesses, especially the airlines. 

The remaining 45% breaks down with 19% for small businesses, 17% for state and local governments and 9% for public services, mostly hospitals.  

It’s already clear the next bill will help states and local governments. Lobbying is happening at a furious, socially distant pace, but state and local governments cannot run deficits like the federal government. That is, states and localities cannot simply print money, like the The feds will have to provide them support or the downstream effects will create an economic tsunami as great as the coming federal one.   

It may seem like Congress acted quickly, but plenty of horse trading went into the preparation of this bill. Only the cruelest free marketeers can stand up and say government should stay out of this crisis. Those people exist, and they seem to want a certain number of dead bodies before they act. Luckily, enough Americans understand the gravity of the crisis and drown out partisan drum beating in the name of saving our loved ones’ lives. 

Who are the losers?

The worst losers are people on fixed incomes and future debt payers, like today’s college and younger kids. No matter what the feds call it, the US is taking on debt. Since Donald Trump arrived in office, the debt went up $3 trillion bringing the pre-coronavirus stimulus to $23.5 trillion or $70,000 for every person living in the US. Now that debt will be $25.5 trillion. Future generations have to pay. 

A quick side note, this stimulus is a necessary and good kind of debt. As Harvard economist Kenneth Rogoff has said, "The whole point of not relying on debt excessively in normal times is precisely to be able to use debt massively and without hesitation in situations like this." Borrowing costs money, but saving lives at this scale is worth it. 

The primary losers, then, are future generations. But that’s a generic reality for government debt. The primary losers that could have been named in this bill but weren’t are more interesting. 

Small businesses are definitely losers. Unlike the checks written to individuals, small businesses has strings attached to most of the money in the stimulus. Small businesses are asking right now whether they are able to keep everyone on their payroll, which is the stated purpose of the stimulus loans. The primary question is whether, if they are already heavily leveraged, they will be able to take on this additional debt. The stimulus provides that any small business that keeps paying its workers will receive forgivable loans, but small businesses aren’t sure how or if that will really work. Small businesses face this uncertainty despite the desire of Congress to pass a decisive bill that would remove uncertainty in the economy. Why? 

At least a sectional of the Democratic Party does not like business. They are still reeling from the Great Recession when, according to the left, bailouts should have gone to individual homeowners and not big banks. Democrats make little distinction between big business and small business. Terms like “profiteers” and “capitalists” don’t allow for subtle distinctions like separating Boeing from your corner mom and pop coffeeshop. Blue Chip Republicans don’t care about small companies much either. They want to ensure companies already running and already providing big products and big services to big quantities of people keep running. That’s why the second biggest winner of the stimulus are large corporations. 

Small business is a blend of Democrat and Republican, so when the crisis arrived and wish lists were created, small business took a back seat to the Democrats’ individual payments and the Republicans’ corporate payments. 

Losers in the stimulus are the environment, education, youth, poor, infrastructure and essential workers. 

Carbon offsets and clean energy incentives like solar, wind and nuclear never made it into the bill. The impact of climate change like mass migrations, regional armed conflicts, ecosystems failed and lives lost will make this pandemic’s worst death toll estimates of 2-5% of those infected truly seem like the seasonal flu. 

Education got money in the stimulus, but it’s not what you think. States run education, not the feds, and federal involvement in education is, compared to the big money spent by states and local governments, miniscule. Schools that are keeping staff won’t be doing it for long. Tax revenues will be small as the effects of shelter-in-place kick in. Schools will be the hardest hit since in most states schools are the largest recipient of state and local revenue that will disappear. Schools will likely hold onto all their workers, even if they know they’ll have to borrow to pay them. States and local governments assume federal help is coming, and Speaker Pelosi has already said the next legislation will help state and local governments, which is code for schools and other less expensive essential services like police and fire. But it’s notable that education didn’t make it into the first stimulus bill. It signals, however slightly, that neither the Dems nor the Republicans care to prop up the existing school system exactly the way it exists today. 

Youth are a big loser in the stimulus. College kids dependent on their parents will not get a check, which should draw the attention of college kids who are going to join the workforce in what’s shaping out to be another Great Recession. Bigger is the future bill youth will have to pay for the excesses of this generation. 

Are you under 30? If so, consider that you will live in a world your parents and grandparents created that benefitted them enormously but that you will never enjoy. China will be the world’s biggest economy soon, and just as the US set the rules when it was the biggest economy, you can be sure China will set the rules when it’s number one. You will be working in a smaller economy and paying bills your parents ran up today based on poor planning. 

Another loser in the stimulus is the poor. Cataloging the ways the stimulus fails the poor require too much space, so let’s focus on the big, obvious ways. First, poverty means people are less likely to file taxes, which means they won’t get a check. Second, poverty means jobs are more precarious, low wage workers were the first to be let go, and they will be the first to run through the additional unemployment benefits in the stimulus, if they can get through to their state’s unemployment agency before they are evicted, have the internet turned off at home or don’t have time to file because they are homeschooling their children since the schools are closed. If the poor have jobs, they will likely need to go and have fewer protections to avoid catching the virus. Mobile phone location data is already coming out showing poor neighborhoods are staying-at-home far less than wealthier areas. But most of all, the stimulus targets the economy as a whole. The American economy as a whole never did much for the poor. They still don’t have quality health care or any health care. They still have worse schools. They still have worse food. This stimulus improves nothing for the poor. 

Buzz in Washington is that another $2 trillion bill for infrastructure is being negotiated. If the feds want to inject a big stimulus in the economy, it should have passed that infrastructure bill in the first bill. We have all heard the list of infrastructure needs, but each is essential. First, the US needs national broadband. Second, the US needs a web of connected transportation options, from transit and air to railways, roads, and waterways, as a means to reduce congestion, protect the environment, and stimulate economic development. Third, the US needs a massive workforce development program to transform workers for the digital economy. Fourth, the US needs to up its funding of Pre-K-12 and higher education to ensure every child is ready for the new economy. Fifth, the US needs a far better public safety program including offering federal leadership for technical assistance that helps all levels of government develop evidence-based community policing programs that build trust, improve community relations and reduce racial tensions and crime rates. 

Essential workers were losers in this stimulus bill, too. The stimulus provides big money for Covid-19 responses that should include making sure essential workers are well protected and well paid. Other countries like the UK and Germany have provided additional benefits to essential workers, identifying them by name and marshaling national resources to ensure they have protective gear and abundant equipment. The stimulus echoes the current US response. It’s vague and indirect. Chicago where I live keeps sending emergency  notifications to all cell phones even while almost every health care worker I know on the front line is telling me they want to quit. Spain is the worst example of endangered essential workers. Garbage bags, old shirts and duct tape do not provide the kind of protection they need, and the US isn’t doing much better. 

Why should we care?

Crises come suddenly, and they reveal core priorities and levels of preparedness. How prepared the US was for this crisis will be readily apparent in the next 6-12 months. What core priorities the US holds is already apparent. We should care about the apparent core priorities of our elected leaders because, if they don’t match our priorities, they need to be held accountable at election time. 

That Republicans support big business and the Democrats support individual workers is no surprise. This is the first crisis felt by all Americans with such far reaching effects. Being optimistic, let’s say a vaccine is developed quickly and life returns quickly to close to its pre-pandemic rhythm. No one will ever forget that when a crisis hit, government was called on to solve it. No matter whether you have a righty Republican’s healthy mistrust of government or a lefty Democrat’s exuberant trust of government, responding to catastrophes is what governments need to be prepared to do. To the extent we are not prepared, it’s time to make a mental note for the future.  

We need to care about the winners and losers of the first stimulus for two major reasons. First, the first time a big bill is passed, it sets the cap on what will be passed in future legislation. The stimulus was the bigest gun Congress could fire in defense of the US. Future legislation could go bigger, but if the infection rate doesn’t decline, and if a vaccine isn’t discovered quickly, the gun wasn’t big enough. Once the infection rate declines a bit, we can expect more politics, more friction, slower decision-making and less powerful effects from the next rounds of legislation.  

Second, when in crisis and you have to negotiate, you resort to your biggest wants. We need to work to ensure the environment, education, youth, poor, infrastructure and essential workers are front of mind, as we continue responding to this crisis and for the next one.  

 The macroeconomic effects of this global shock will almost certainly be felt for decades. China’s claim of a V-shaped recovery seems overblown for China, so the odds of that happening in the US are slim. A big drop is rarely followed by an equally big increase. Make a gun with your left hand. A gun-shaped recovery seems more optimistically realistic. The thumb is the drop, and the pointer finger is the recovery. In other words,  return to normalcy will likely come slowly as winners build their strength and losers lose even more. 

Pete my friend’s worst fear seems right now to be untrue. It’s still early days understanding this virus, but if it mutates, come back annually in winter or never leaves and keeps mutating, the harm to lives and economies will return annually as well. The Spanish Flu came back a second time and killed more people in the second wave than the first. Right now, rumblings from scientists are that this virus isn’t mutating. If it’s not, that means that once there is a vaccine, it will stop the virus completely and allow us to rebuild our economies before they impoverish too many people. 

The question we should be asking ourselves in the moments we can see beyond the immediate crisis is this. Are we happy with the winners and losers Congress chose to create with the largest economic stimulus bill in the history of the world? 

John Heintz is based in Chicago.

#Covid-19 #Coronavirus #Stimulus #$2 trillion #Congress