#also the 'it's only you' line would be a bit rude to kris coming from her

[spamtonology]

hi its the same anon here Again (i think i can just call myself sm anon so i dont have to introduce myself every time)

I just wanted to talk about how spamton's complex character and personality is generally greatly written making him very special character, as promised in last ask

When first encountering, hes only shown as a silly weirdo Trying to scam kris, but after you enter his shop (Which not everyone did while their gameplay) youre introduced to his darked side... Hes a lonely and desperate man, with very impulsive decisions and with his mind fixated on strange robot in queen's basement, the feeling around spamton immedietly changes from funny haha meme scammer to "oh my God. He is NOT ok" but Even with such weird and uncanny atmosphere, spamton still tries to be hopeful and funny, example the famous KEYGEN bit where he's parodying youtube poop video, or how generally hes generally making jokes relating to his possible Trauma (i wanna talk about that later possibly too. Special interest moment) or When he's Talking about freedom and heaven, as much as it all sounds concerning, i think he shows euphoria and hope (Which is more sad to think about after we later see how he ends up)

Thats what make him So special i think!!! Hes scary, hes probably sad alot too, but hes also hopeful!! He has so many dreams he wants to accomplish!! Even if its shown trought being absurdly desperate and strange, spamton hopes, he has good hopes, which WE know he doesnt achieve in the end, but he believes his life can get better, he never gave up, and kept going till the very end (and what he did with kris wasnt good btw, what i mean here is that hes just very hopeful and believes hes going to have better future, not choosing good ways to achieve it thought) and i think toby fox did generally amazing job making spamton character

I have So many thoughts i wanna share about spamton.... But i dont wanna write too long asks!!! Im probably just gonna write few diffrent asks someday yas (Also theres a chance i didnt properly write things i was thinking about So it could lead to some misunderstanding, if any confusion please lmk!!!)

Hello again! As for an identifier, I have seen anons use an emoji symbol as a way of identifying themself, you could use one! Any is good.

Something that’s notable about Spamton’s character is that he is almost entirely skippable: if you defeat him on the first fight, he will complain about how rude the player is and leave for the rest of the game, therefore locking his story out. It’s very interesting that the only way to proceed with his arc is to accept his deal and show him mercy!

So, yes, if all the player did was defeat him and move on, the player would simply see him as another weird quirk and not think much else of it. They would be missing out on his story. While the notion that he’s purely comic relief is blatantly false, I can’t say it comes from nowhere, people who only defeat him and move on probably do think that.

The shop isn’t where everything begins to unravel, it’s actually earlier on, first in the alley when you see a poster of “BIG SHOT AUTOS” where Spamton’s face from his better days can be seen.

And shortly after meeting Spamton you can also mention his name to the Addisons, their responses vary and some simply don’t have any lines programmed.

The encounters in his shop are probably the closest you can get to knowing Spamton as a person (outside of NEO), and here is definitely something deeply wrong with this man. At one point he shuts down and appears to be taken over by a different entity, asking if anyone can hear “them”. Asking him about the Knight causes him to glitch out and the option is replaced with “friends”. He also seems to shut down at the mention of Mike.

Both the shop itself and his sprite in the shop have an uncanny feel and look to them, and the “exit” button is replaced with “RUN AWAY”, heightening the fear the player and/or Kris feels around Spamton. Sure, he’s funny, but he’s also deeply unsettling, and Toby does such a good job at balancing out these aspects of his character.

That ending of the NEO battle when he’s so happy the strings are finally being cut, then all goes silent and he flops motionless to the floor, is one of the most jarring things Toby has ever created. It doesn’t help that it drags on for a relatively long time, so you’re forced to look at the “corpse” on the ground there.

He might seem hopeful, but I think it’s more desperation than anything. He is definitely stubborn and determined to reach NEO at all costs, in such a desperate way that he’s willing to do anything for it.

What do you mean by “good” hopes? As in, morally good? I would say his hopes are rather selfish, but understandable otherwise. He only ever wanted to be free, and was willing to cheat, lie and manipulate to get his way to freedom. As a failed salesman and overall unpleasant person, that’s the route he decided to take rather than seek better, safer alternatives that wouldn’t further damage his reputation.

But...Well, it’s perfectly understandable to feel sympathy for him. When he’s written that way, and you know his backstory, you almost just want to give him a hug, and it can be rather disarming which is why it’s so important to look back at the canon source and analyze his canon behaviors, not what fanon says he should act like. One can feel great sympathy and understand that what he did was not good.

He needs a break. Some reprieve. He gets consequence for his malicious actions, but no closure for his want of freedom.

Death of a salesman, indeed.

#spamton

[agentravensong]

Everyone talks about how the narration switches from referring to Kris calling for help from Susie and Ralsei versus "you" calling for Noelle in the Snowgrave Spamton Neo fight,

but nobody talks about the 1 other time the narration refers to Kris in third person:

Notice how there's no string asking the player whether or not they want to use the KeyGen? That's because, as soon as you interact with the lock with the KeyGen in your party, Kris just uses it, without giving the player that option.

Note that this isn't what happens with Jevil and the Door Key in Chapter 1. There, when you bring the fixed key to his cell, the player is prompted with the options "Use key" or "do not". If you say "do not", it's Jevil who denies you that choice, saying, "YOU CAME TOO FAR! YOUR CHOICE HAS RUN OUT!"

So, Kris goes ahead and uses the KeyGen the second you give them the opportunity. Either because they recognize that, like with Jevil, this is probably happening either way... or, because they're genuinely invested in helping Spamton.

I tend to believe the latter, despite how freaked out by Spamton Kris appears to be on multiple occasions, because of two factors: a) the option to ask him about "FRIENDS" in his shop, which Spamton at least takes to be Kris asking if the two of them are friends,

and b) what the narration says Kris does if you interact with the seemingly non-functional machine a second time:

Sounds like they're desperate for it for work.

But yeah, reasoning aside, if we're taking the narration's distinction between Kris and "you" in the Snowgrave Spamton fight to be significant and telling of Kris's character, which I absolutely think we should, then I think we should try not to forget the one other instance of this happening.

...unless it's an oversight like the hot chocolate line in chapter 1. But, again, the lack of a choice for the player in whether or not to use the KeyGen makes me more confident it's not.

Also, while I'm here discussing DR's narration, though there are many uses of "you" to refer to experiences specific to Kris, original thoughts they have inspired by what you inspect, or memories of theirs from before we were around... there's also this:

This line is a reference to the broken jukebox in Grillby's in UnderTale. There's no jukebox in Hometown or the other Dark Worlds that this line could be referring to, so it only makes sense if the "you" here is the soul/player, not Kris. So, yeah, that's weird and contradictory, huh? Guess we'll have to wait to find out what it means.

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune spoilers #snowgrave route #kris dreemurr #spamton #jevil #image descriptions in alt text #if you want my theory as to who the narrator is: i Do Not Know #it *could* be kris who's dissociated enough from their body due to the possession that they refer to themself in the second person #but then wouldn't these instances of third-person which are describing actions clearly distinct to them be in first person? #my crack theory is that it's dess #she would know about kris's family and history after all #...but then we don't have any proof she'd know about the ut stuff the narrator references #also the 'it's only you' line would be a bit rude to kris coming from her

[mountmortar]

Favorite johto headcanons?

OH buddy i have. A Lot. so many. here are Some of them stuck under a read more because i wrote a paragraph for each of them oops

when looking at like. the games as a whole. since johto is in the unique position of introducing a new protagonist with each set of games i like to think that each new protag introduced Are the protags for their specific set of games. like ethan is the protag of gold/silver, kris is the protag of crystal, lyra is the protag of hgss, yknow. it seems to make sense in my brain. (since ethan got remade in hgss i like to think of a happy medium between the two where both lyra and ethan go for the championship. like a friendly rival sort of thing. hgss is already so different from gsc anyway so why not lmao)

this is an observation made by just looking at all their in-game sprites but lyra's the only one out of all of them that actually looks friendly. like i think she would be the only one who wouldn't push you down and call you a fucking loser. she looks like she gives good hugs and would also be the only one allowed in the daycare because she can actually handle baby pokémon

this one is not an observation it's an actual headcanon but i feel like ethan has a strong sense of duty. like idk if i'm getting the vibe from his stone-cold serious in-game sprite faces or what but he just strikes me as the type to have something like that. i feel like he's just a chill fun guy in general but once you give him a job to do he literally will not quit until the job is done yknow

kris grows up and retires the championship to be johto's battle tower boss. because it's the only battle tower in the games that doesn't have an actual leader and it was introduced in crystal so it's like FATE yknow. as a side note i think it was so goddamn unfair that hgss included aspects of crystal but literally removed JOHTO'S OWN BATTLE TOWER (the first fucking battle tower in the GAMES) to put in. SINNOH'S FUCKING BATTLE FRONTIER. that was so fucking lazy goddamn

i can see silver sticking with his wandering lifestyle when he gets older but i can also see him (maybe) taking up the mahogany gym after pryce eventually retires. maybe lance offered him the position maybe he applied himself. but i think whether he does or not he would struggle a little with the decision because yknow. mr shitty dad giovanni was a gym leader too.

since the pokéathlon was introduced in hgss i like to think of lyra as growing up to be a star pokéathlete. because i think it'd be fun and also because she seems like she has a lot of energy so it'd be good for her. kids come up to her all the time asking for autographs and she's too nice to say no so her hand always hurts by the end of the day sdkdskjfkdjn

honestly who the fuck even knows what ethan grows up to do. i think he'd take up an offer of researching pokémon in the wild for professor elm sometimes just to have the excuse to wander around in the woods with a bunch of pokémon for a while. is he scientific? no, but he's good with pokémon and honestly if he applies himself he's really good at noticing little details about them that others might not. he also pissed off a bunch of donphan one time and they chased him all the way down mount silver but that's beside the point

since kris grew up by herself with no friends i think she'd have a rough-around-the-edges sort of feel to her. in that she's used to doing most things by herself so she's not very good at accepting help from others and can come off as rude or overly blunt sometimes when she declines offers for said help. but i think she'd appreciate the company. just not the help! and along those same lines just based on her in-game flavor text i feel like she's constantly desperate to get out of her house because it feels...sort of empty there. like she cheers up a bit around her mom but both her room and her flavor text in her room seem so desolate and she's so so much more talkative when she's traveling around and it's always been interesting to me. lonely kid syndrome to the max

this is a surprise to no one but since he's homeless and initially grew up surrounded by team rocket members i think silver knows. things. that other kids his age wouldn't necessarily know. like how to pick locks (learned off of rocket grunts) or how to track bug-type pokémon to find berry plants for food (learned from being homeless. he's a clever kid!)

#some of these are subject to change at any time because my mind. like water. nothing sticks one way for very long #ANYWAY! here you go :> #pokémon #asks

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Get Some - Tierna Davidson x Reader

Prompt: So I’ve got an idea for Tierna x Reader where they’ve just started dating after quarantined together in Chicago but haven’t told the team yet because they don’t want to mess up the dynamics right before the Olympics. Nobody really suspects anything bc they are both pretty tame at camps, and bc reader has severe baby face the team is always teasing her about being an innocent little fetus forgetting she is actually like 24. So when R shows up to Orlando camp in a bulky hoodie they think nothing of it assuming it’s from Chicago weather until they notice she refuses to take it off and keeps adjusting the hood to keep part of her neck covered. They let her be thinking maybe she’s just cold until she shows up ready for practice with her winter mock neck on under her practice jersey the next day. After they force her to take it off bc it’s 80° out they discover the hickeys she was trying to hide, along with the scratches on her back and freak out bc someone is “defileing the fetus” and grill her trying to figure out who it is while Tierna is just smirking to herself by her locker.

TL/DR: Tierna x Reader trying and failing to hide r’s “love marks” featuring Proud!Tierna and BabyFace!Reader

Note - this awesome human, pretty much wrote this me. 

“Cold munchkin?” Alex teased the forward as she sat next to her in the team meeting. Her hood up, sweater strings tied.

“Not all of us live in constant heat and humidity Morgan. I bet you’re jealous of my lack of tan too,” Y/N winked back, tugging the sweater tighter around her neck.

Tierna grinned behind them, struggling to stifle her laughter.

“Of course she’s jealous! Who wouldn’t want to look like this?” Rose slid in on the other side of Y/N.

“Yea Alex, pale is the new tan,” Sonnett squeezed Alex’s traps from behind as she sat down next to Tierna.

Alex rolled her eyes at unexpected turn.

Vlatko called attention to the rest of the room, starting the meeting for the start of camp.

Tierna kicked the back of Y/N chair while she continued to try and hide her grin from everyone around her. Lindsey giving her a strange look.

At the end of the meeting, everyone made their way to the banquet room for supper, still all separated until everyone’s test results came in.  

“Hey kiddo, you need someone to cut up your food at supper?” Kelley teased, nudging the forward as she made her way to her own seat.

“Ha ha,” Y/N fake laughed, rolling her eyes, “because I’m not old enough to have my knife.”

“You got it,” Kelley winked, shooting her air guns across the table.

After that conversation flowed easily, the players all talking to each other from a distance, making the room busy and loud; everyone eager to catch up.

After supper, Y/N and Tierna attempted to stall, hoping to steal a brief moment together before they all had to spend the night alone in their rooms.

“We should just tell them we had been quarantined in Chicago together, then we could be together,” Tierna tugged on Y/N’s sleeve, swinging both their arms back and forth.

“You need T to walk you to your room, so you don’t get lost?” Ali teased as she walked by.

“Where the hell does everyone keep coming from,” Tierna grumbled quietly, while Y/N rolled her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“I’m not a child!” Y/N stomped her foot.

“Great argument kiddo,” Pinoe held a thumbs up as she walked past to the elevator.  

“I can find my own room!” Y/N called after her, starting to walk away, only to feel another firm pull on her sleeve. She glanced down to see Tierna still holding on, looking up to see the smirk on her girlfriends face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to tuck our kid into bed.” Tierna started to pull Y/N towards the stairs by her sleeve.

Once out of site of the rest of the team, Tierna pinned Y/N against the wall, untieing the strings to her hood. Nosing it out of her way, Tierna started kiss along her jaw line, placing a firm bite to her ear.

“I am addicted to you,” Tierna pulled the collar out of the way, moving her lips to Y/N’s collar bone, scrapping her teeth on it, then soothing it with a gentle kiss.

“Fuck T,” Y/N tilted her head back, giving Tierna more room to kiss. Her hand gripping the back of Tierna’s neck, other sliding under her shirt, scrapping her nails across her ribs.

Tierna sucked harshly Y/N throat, pulling back to see the result, a deep red mark already beginning to turn purple. “You’re going to need to ask the staff for a neck warmer tomorrow,” she whispered into Y/N’s throat, scrapping her teeth across the bruise.

Y/N pulled her hand out from Tierna’s shirt, placing her palms on her chest, debating if she should push her away. She loved what was happening, but knew they needed to stop before things got carried away, or Tierna left any more marks.

“Fuck T,” Y/N groaned out, beginning to push the defender away, “we aren’t in quarantine anymore, people can actually see us now, more importantly, our team can see now.”

“Hmm that would be unfortunate if someone saw these,” Tierna smirked as she leaned back in, attempting to place more kisses along Y/N’s neck. Only for Y/N to push more firmly against her chest.

“You’re killing me babe,” Y/N bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile. Tierna looking completely unashamed, bit the air in front of Y/N, beginning to slide her hands up the front of Y/N’s shirt, digging her thumbs into her hips. Y/N moaned at the pressure, hips pressing out for more contact.

With a brief kiss to Y/N’s lips, Tierna pulled away completely, taking three large steps back and holding her hand out.

“Come on, I promised to make sure you make it to bed safe,” she winked, wiggling her fingers to encourage Y/N to grab.

“I hate you,” Y/N said gruffly, stepping forward to take Tierna’s hand.

“No you don’t,” she sung back, swinging their arms back and forth as they began walking up the stairs.

“I do a little bit,” she mumbled, looking away from the brunette, knowing her faux seriousness would crack as soon as she saw the large smile her girlfriend had on.

“Nope!” Tierna accentuated the ‘p’ at the end, swinging their arms higher, finally earning a giggle from her girlfriend. Her ability to go from pinning Y/N to the wall and leaving hickeys across her neck to innocent and childlike was incredible.

Y/N finally gave in completely and burst out laughing as they climbed the stairs, pushing her shoulders into the taller soccer player. The two gently wrestling the rest of the way up the stairs, separating as they made it to their floor.

Tierna walked Y/N to her door, making a show of it, “I’m just down the hall if you have any bad dreams,” she ruffled her hair and began to walk away. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

Several loud laughs could be heard from the doors that still remained open.

The next morning players prepared for practice on the side lines, tugging on cleats and debating on long sleeves or short sleeves, Y/N tugged her neck warmer on, tugging it all the way up to her ears.

“Yo, Chicago, shouldn’t you be used to the cold?” Kristie teased as they made their on the turf to warm up.

“Rude! I’m delicate!”

“Yea Kris be nice to the little kid,” Alex came from behind, rubbing her hands up and down Y/N’s biceps. “you cold? Do you need a sweater? Gloves?”

Y/N pulled out of Alex’s hands, rolling her eyes, “I’m fine, just a little chilly this morning.”

Everyone left it for the rest of the morning training.

Y/N was not as lucky that afternoon. Everyone offering warmer items of clothing when they saw her wearing the neck warmer again in the afternoon.

“Are you sick?” Christen reached up, attempting to feel Y/N’s forehead. Y/N was quick to duck out of the way, swatting Christens hand.

“Seriously guys, I’m fine, just not adjusting well to the climate change or something,” Y/N tried to avoid glaring at Tierna, knowing the defender would a smirk on her face throughout it all.

“Are you sure Y/N/N? Should we get the trainers?” know Tierna decided to join in the conversation. Y/N looked sharply at her girlfriend, clenching her jaw, she was the reason for the interrogation.

“I’m fine,” Y/N snarked to the group, “It’s a neck warmer, just drop it.”

“It is way to humid put here right now for you to be chilled,” Ali came over, rubbing her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, sensing the forwards discomfort at being put on the spot. But also concerned for the younger woman, no one should be chilled in the mid-afternoon Florida heat.

The entire practice everyone kept an eye on the younger soccer player. As the intensity of the practice increased, Y/N continued to tug at the neck warmer she was wearing. The hair at the base of her skull soaked with sweat, the collar of shirt drenched the entire away around, face flushed as she heated up.

At the end of practice, Y/N attempted to pull her hoodie over head after she had pulled the neck warm off. Unfortunately, she was not quick enough her movements, the hem getting caught on her sweaty, tangled bun.

“What in the actual fuck happened to your neck?” Pinoe explained, stopping Y/N from pulling the sweater on, gaining the attention of the rest of the team.

Kelley quickly bounded over, pulling the collar of her practice shirt out of the way. The rest of the team now all looking on.

“What happened to your neck?” Alex came over as well, thumb and forefinger holding Y/N’s chin, moving her head around, inspecting the now very prominent hickeys spread across the neck, collar bone, and upper chest.

A loud cat call whistle was heard from behind and “Oh damn” thrown from someone else, follow up with “get some!”

“No! Don’t get anything!” Christen shot the group of young players a hard look, eyes sharp when she looked back to Y/N, “who did this to you?”

“What? This?” Y/N motioned to her neck, “I, uhh, got a tour of the aquarium. They let me hold one of the octopuses.” She finished with a firm nod, satisfied with her answer, smiling to herself.

Tierna remained on the bench a few feet away, coughing to cover her sudden laugh at the terrible story.

“Bullshit!” Alex challenged, still holding Y/N chin firmly. Y/N attempted to pull away, Alex adjusted her grip, palming her jaw.

“Who did this to you?” Christen asked again.

“You’re like 12! No one should be doing this to you!”

“I’m 24,” Y/N rolled her eyes, attempting to pull away, only to be pulled back in.

“You are far too young to young to have hickeys!”

“I’ve had sex before.”

“No! you are not old enough to have sex!”

By now, Tierna was leaning back on the bench, watching as all the older players harassed her girlfriend, all unaware she was the cause of the marks on the young forward. She spread her arms on the back of the bench, leg casually crossed over the other, smug smile.

“Welp,” she popped the ‘p’, “I’ve kissed people, given hickeys, been hickied,” she motioned to her neck again, “and even had sex. Really good, mind blowing sex.” With a wink, Alex finally let her step out of her grip.

“Eww! No!”

“Y/N! Enough, tell us who did this to you? We obviously need to talk to them if they are doing things like this to you.”

“Guys, quit being so dramatic,” Y/N rolled her eyes, attempting to take another step away from the over protective players.

“No no no, come back here,” Tobin stepped forward now. “That ones fresh!” she copied Alex’s motion earlier, gripping her jaw and tilting it up to the expose the fresh hickey on the side.

This caused them all to step closer and inspect the hickey for themselves. Tierna uncrossed her legs, sitting up a little straighter, smile slipping slightly.

“That means its someone at camp!” Kristie called from behind all the veterans.

Y/N eyes went wide, smile fully dropping from Tierna’s face. The overprotective players all looking around, scanning each player, trying to determine who it could be.

“Is it a player? Staff? Coach?” Alex looked firmly at the younger forward.

“Gonna go save your girl?” Alyssa slid onto the bench next to Tierna on the bench, smirking at her.

“What?” Tierna whispered, shocked, eyes darting quickly to the keeper.

“Well,” Alyssa started slowly, “most of those are old, so they happened in Chicago, and you, me, and Y/N/N were the only ones there together. And there’s a fresh one since we got here. And since I didn’t do it, that only leaves you.” She firmly poked Tierna in the chest.

Tierna opened and closed her mouth. “Umm, uhh, fuck.”

“I won’t tell, but you might want to go save her over there. You know none of them are going to drop it until they figure it out,” Alyssa shrugged, “besides it’s your fault really. You are the one that put those one there.”  

Tierna continued to open and close her mouth, then watched as the veterans continued to ask Y/N who It was and beginning to call out several of the younger players who were all enjoying the small interrogation.

“Fuck,” Tierna sighed out, she slapped her thighs and pushed herself to stand. “Kell, Stanford should take your degree away.”

Kelley whipped around to glare at Tierna as she walked toward the group, “what are you talking about?”

“You’re really not very observant,” Tierna smirked at her, “I’m going to let you guys think on this a little more, Y/N/N and I are going to head back to the hotel for supper.”

Y/N smirked and skipped toward the defender.

Everyone watched them walk away, mouth open, eyebrows creased.

“Wait,” Lindsey perked up, smile growing as she figured it out, “weren’t they both in Chicago together?”

That brought all eyes over to the midfielder.

“Yes!” Kelley pointed at her, “they did! Baby T defiled baby Y/N!”

“Shit, I thought we would get further away,” Tierna tugged Y/N’s hand encouraging them to run towards an available van.

“We aren’t done with this!” Alex yelled after them.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #tierna davidson x reader #tierna davidson imagine #tierna davidson imagines

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

okay so idk if y’all have heard but somebody has gotten the hidden lyrics in Big Shot the clearest they’ve ever been and after listening, I have thoughts.

These are lyrics I can make out to make it easier for y’all:

“I think he's/it's coming for me, answer the phone I can't explain until you're all alone It pulls the strings and makes them ring Until your heart (turns red?) I think he's/it's coming for me, answer the phone I can't explain until you're all alone Pull the strings and Pull the strings and TELL ME WHAT YOU -----”

I know a lot of people have thoughts about what the missing lines are, but I still can’t make it out or match what they suggest, so I’m leaving them blank for now. Everything else I think is pretty clear though.

Based on the implications of these lyrics, I personally think this is talking about the Player. Or at the very least, whoever hijacked our communications with Gaster in the beginning. The reason I think this is because of the purposeful lack of pronouns. ‘It pulls the strings and makes them ring’. ‘It’s coming for me.’ As far as we know, Gaster uses he pronouns. Kris for sure uses they. We’re avoiding a gender marker for a reason, and we’re using a type of pronoun that typically brings to mind something non-human or otherworldly/beyond human comprehension. Whatever Spamton is talking about, he’s perceiving it as some kind of entity, which would make sense with the religious imagery surrounding him heavily at the end. Who else fits in a God like role or literally ‘pulls the strings’ but us and the thing that ripped our control away at the start? The other reason is because of the line, ‘I can’t explain until you’re all alone’. There are multiple instances where not only Spamton insists on meeting him alone, but Ralsei also has now done something twice that separated our perception from Kris’s. And when we came back, he seemed to be explaining something to Kris.

Here’s what I think.....

I think Spamton is trying to send a message to Kris through these lyrics, using bits and pieces of an old conversation he had with someone else (maybe Mike???)

I think he’s trying to warn them about something 

I think the lyrics were so deep fried so that WE couldn’t understand it, but Kris (and potentially the rest of the party) could

I think what people have been saying about Spamton’s “deal” with Kris is correct, and how we don’t ever get to hear what it is specifically because it’s to do with getting freedom in exchange for freedom

This is getting a little out there, but I don’t think Spamton does his glitch speak accidentally. I think it’s to encrypt what he’s saying so the Entity can’t understand him. Especially when it comes to [hyperlink blocked]. It’d be pretty sick if Spamton was aware we can only learn info from text, and speaks what this word is to Kris but blocks it from the Player’s perception. We already know Kris does things (besides rip out their soul) to project their true will over the Player’s decisions, so if Spamton is truly in the same boat, perhaps this is his way of doing the same thing

In theory, he’d stop if Kris ever got the chance to truly be alone with him. ‘I can’t explain until you’re all alone’

Unfortunately, I don’t think Kris completely understands the glitch speak either, as they seem pretty unsettled by Spamton’s behavior the whole time

If this is correct, it means the Entity can perceive the world through Spamton like we can with Kris, to the point where he doesn’t feel comfortable talking openly with anyone until they can guarantee the Other presence is gone. Or, at the very least, it means the Entity is omnipresent, but that would make me think it’s Gaster again, since it’s already been canonically established that he’s always listening (’It’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening’)

This would also explain why, when he started talking out of turn about the Knight, Spamton seemed to get punished by Something and then immediately switched to an ad

I think it’s clear Spamton is terrified of the Entity and believes it will seriously harm him, if it hasn’t already 

Side Note: Is this why Spamton is afraid of Jevil?????????? Was he originally siding more with the Entity and perhaps acting like an assassin or hitman for the Entity against the followers that tried to back out and he was threatening him on behalf of their boss????????? And that’s perhaps why Jevil thinks locking himself away is true freedom, cause the Entity can’t get him where he is? (Even more so now that he’s an item for us to use?)

I don’t think Kris is so afraid at the end of the fight because they’re afraid that they’ll die without the Player. I think they were afraid because, assuming all of this is correct, Spamton is a literal example of what’s gonna happen to them if they can’t find a way to break the Player’s control. Spamton and Kris are in the same situation. He was the only one who truly understood, and Kris honestly thought this could be the way out. Once Spamton was free, they would be free. But that didn’t happen, so they’re right back where they started.

I think this is why Kris rips out their soul. One of two things is happening: One, the Dual-Possession theory is true and Kris is being controlled by us and Something Else. The Something Else is ripping out the soul, because if we can’t ACT or perceive, then neither can Kris, and it’s completely free to do whatever it wants. Or Two, Kris is aware that the Entity is using the Player to gain information and manipulate the world, and rips out their soul when they want to do something without the Entity’s interference, similar to Spamton’s glitch speak.

I do not think Kris is the Knight now. Whoever they are, they are much, much more callous than Kris if this is what they’re doing to Spamton.

I think this is all why Kris tries to avoid the Player learning anything about Asriel, like covering their eyes when looking at his room. They’re trying to protect him from the Entity.

Finally, I do not think we the Player are the Big Bad. But I do think we’re unwittingly helping the Big Bad, and all the self-aware characters are aware of it and avoid us accordingly.

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

Okay so humor me a bit and let me paint a picture for you to further justify this theory:

You have an Addison Spamton, extremely down on his luck. He is somehow perceived and gets a phone call from Someone With Determination. They offer help. They’ll use Spamton’s body and tell him what choices to make, and he gets to make off with the benefits. And no, of course not, there’s no extra charge, they really just wanna help out a new friend =)

So Spamton agrees. Gets rich and famous because the voice in his head knows all the good choices somehow. But then they fight. Maybe Spamton wants to make his own way for once. He doesn’t want to be a puppet anymore. Or maybe it’s even more cocky like ‘What do I need YOU for? I’m a big shot now!”. So, the hubris made the Entity take him down a couple pegs. It goes completely silent. And without their guidance...all the gains go to shit. Spamton couldn’t do shit by himself. He loses everything. No matter how much he begged and prayed, the Entity ignored him. Maybe a hitman gets sent to collect debts one way or another. But either way, the fact remained that he would be the Entity’s bitch forever, per the contract. He just needed to find a way out...before they started talking again.

.....

..........

.................

Sorry this got so long but let me know what you think!!!!!! I might add more later cause I’m tired and keep forgetting things I wanna say!!!!!!!

#deltarune #deltarune theories #spamton #spamton g spamton

[xxatinyminionxx]

no hate to the last anon but the sm and kris wu contract is a court ordered contract after his and luhan’s dispute with sm. sm will have absolutely nothing to do with whatever scummy shit kris decides to get into because as far as they’re concerned, they get a share of whatever profit he makes until later this year. and it’s good riddance after that. same with luhan and tao. or it could’ve already been terminated. but kris’s scandal will have no effect on anything so while i understand their point, the specific circumstances makes that argument unviable.

as for lucas. while not court ordered, a contract is still a contract, regardless of whether or not he gaslights women and cheats on them. and it will not be terminated before it’s time. so he’s either going to leave when it’s up, because he DID do those things. or sm, as the reigning greedy fucks™ that they are, are going to reinstate him back into schedules slowly because they don’t care about whether or not those accusations are true. there’s also the other side where he may not have done anything so the plan is to get him back into the groove of things. who knows.

this lucas situation makes me roll my damn eyes. it’s a game of he said she said that i will not partake in. the possibility of being on the wrong side is ick to me. and while speculation can be fun and natural, unless sm says something, you can’t rely on any source. it’s way too convoluted at this point. the language barriers make it even worse. despite sa not being mentioned, there’s a mistranslation out there that people latched onto and spread. and with the fake name clearing evidence posts and even the sketchy at best accusations+photo proof, you literally can’t concretely pick a side. all we have is a public and formal apology and a statement declaring his hiatus to go on. which isn’t in his favor.

i know you support him? and find the accusations sketchy? and i don’t want to come as rude to either side but i find it way too ridiculous of a situation to be able to properly defend any point from any side. i’ll see raging lucas haters and write them off as fools for trusting randos on the internet and then do the exact same for the opposite side because the only way to defend him is through speculation. i have more to say but i’ll refrain. this ask will get way to long due to all the annoying little details you have to bring up for each side.

also again, i don’t mean to come off rude or hateful so i’ll explicitly apologize here because i know for a fact i work better communicating in person and tend to come off as an offensive robot online, so i’m sorry if that was the case. ignore this if you’re over the lucas bullshit, i just felt the need to say something like the little right foul git that i can be sometimes. and as another disclaimer i try to stay the most objective as i can by putting all information through this “would this be viable in a debate class/courtroom” filter and it helps me dissect which side to take or whether or not to even indulge the situation at all. so i’m sorry if this ask is a bit of a downer in that sense because the situation is way too convoluted for me to confidently argue. or agree with you for that matter. but i hope you’re doing well and i wish you and that last anon the absolute best.

It’s okay, I like hearing from other perspectives. You’re right that there’s just too much “he said she said” on social media to really come to any conclusion, which people shouldn’t be in the first place.

I do tend to speculate in the favor that Lucas was mostly framed, but we just don’t know. Some of the numerous accusations may or may not be true to some extent, but we have no idea of knowing at this point unless SM says something about it.

It’s been nearly six months of hiatus for Lucas and uncertainty for fans. SM has a track record of not addressing things unless profit is on the line, but hopefully there is some closure.

#anon #minion asks #minion rants #minion rambles #nct #wayv #lucas #wong yukhei #cpop #kpop

[lukin08]

All Summer Long

Here is my submission for the Summer Lovin @frozines.  A big thanks to @punkpoemprose for putting this together.  Amazing, as always

Rating: T

Words: 5261

Also available on AO3

The bell dinged over the door as Anna pulled it open. She took pause at the sound and looked around. At first glance, the store looked exactly as it had from her childhood. Knotty pine planks lined the walls and ceilings matching the cedar siding on the outside of the building. T-shirts ran across the top of the long back wall, all beckoning tourists to purchase them. The racks leading over to the checkout were full of snacks and hats for anyone unfortunate to have forgotten their own. Anna walked over reading all the fronts of the baseball caps. She had to use all her self-control to not grab the pink and black one that read ‘Boat Waves, Sun Rays and Torch Lake Days’.

After closer inspection, much had changed to Pabbie’s. New floors, a quick serve area that had about every grab and go food you could think of, and most importantly, a bakery and ice cream counter all filled out the large space.

She was flipping through a rack of sweatshirts when a voice called out. “On your left, Red.”

Anna jumped out of the way as a man passed her quickly carrying two large boxes over his shoulder.

“Sven!” A middle-aged woman called, following quickly behind him.

“Gotta go. We’re on fire today!”

“You tell him I need his order today before 5.”

“I’ll try.”

“Do it or you’ll be out of luck next weekend! No pilfering from the store when you run out of supplies anymore. It’s messing up my books!”

“Love you too, Bulda!” He said, flashing her a grin then disappearing out the front door.

The woman stopped next to Anna, put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Those two will be the death of me, I swear.”

“Everything ok?”

The woman looked at Anna and smiled. “It gets busier earlier every summer. Used to be until the third week of June when the water got warm when the crowds started, but we’ve been running full steam since before Memorial Day.”

“Wow. That early?”

“Who would have thought? Guess we aren’t the best kept secret of Michigan anymore.” The woman took a long look at Anna. “Anything I can help you with?”

Anna glanced out the window at the marina. “I actually had a question about an installation for a dock. Do I need to go next door?”

The woman waved her hand. “No need for that. Follow me.”

Anna followed her over to a counter at the other end of the room. The sign above it on the wall read ‘Torch Lake Marina’. There was all sorts of literature on boat rentals and storage and marine services on the counter.

“I didn’t realize the marina was part of Pabbie’s. I had to double check the address when saw it.”

“We purchased it a few years ago. Now what can I do for you?”

“I need to schedule a dock installation.”

Anna gave her the information and after a few minutes she had a time for the next week for the Marina to come out.

“Arendelle. Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in years. There was a family that had a place on Cherry Road named Arendelle. Are you any relation to them?”

“Yes. That’s me… I mean that’s my family. My parents owned the house. We used to come up here a long time ago.”

“I remember your father. He was in here all the time with the boat in the summers. Got along well with my father. How is your family doing?”

That was all it took. One simple question and Anna was off, spilling her guts to a stranger. She explained her parents' passing five years prior and the over ten-year absence due to her parent’s intense focus on her sister’s health. But Anna was back with a vision for the house and being up at the lake this summer was just what she needed. Internally she was screaming at herself to just stop talking. But Bulda kept asking her questions and seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying that Anna just couldn’t stop.

“That all sounds amazing, dear. You must keep me updated with how things are going. Can I give you one piece of advice?”

“Sure.”

“Make sure to take a minute to breathe now and then. You can blink and the entire summer will be over.”

“I will. Some friends from home are coming up tomorrow. I think we are going to head over to the sandbar. It should be fun!”

“Or at least entertaining. The sandbar on the weekend is always good for that.”

-------

This wasn’t what Anna had envisioned for a day out on the water. The morning had started fine. Anna was thrilled to be back out on the water again. To understand the depths of Torch Lake’s beauty and appreciate its deep aqua and turquoise colors, you really had to take it in with your own eyes on the lake. It was even fun at first when they anchored at the sandbar. But things took a turn for the worse as the day went on.

They anchored with a group of boats and the faces were all familiar. The uppity groups she remembered from school, all in the same social circles her family were in hadn’t changed a bit. They played their music too loud, drank too much and Anna quickly remembered why she left Ann Arbor as soon as she could. As much as she was trying to rekindle old relationships, perhaps some of them were better left as old friends.

Fending wanting to check out more of the sandbar, Anna decided to venture away from the group. It was easy getting around. Barring the occasional deep spot, the water wasn’t more than up to her thighs most of the time and in some stretches it was only at her ankles. There was over two miles to walk if she wanted, but Anna was on a mission.

Rumor was there was a pontoon that served food on the sandbar. She didn’t really believe it, but she was intrigued enough to go in search of it. After a few questions and only getting turned around twice between all the boats she looked up at the large yellow and black sign that read ‘Burger Barge’ stretched across the pontoon.

After spotting what looked like the area to order, Anna went up the side of the boat. As soon as the person in front of her was handed the foil wrapped sandwich, she stepped up closer. “I’ll have a burger. That’s all you have, right? Or is there something else?”

The man up at the boat was in front of the grill. He didn’t bother to look up. “A little busy here.”

“I can wait. How long do you think?”

He pointed his spatula down to the end of the boat. “Order in the back, princess. Just like everyone else.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I saw you hand a burger to someone. I thought-“

“Does it look like I take orders here?” he snapped. “Do you see the prices anywhere? You think I’m going to handle everyone’s money and cook all the food at the same time?”

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Do I know you?” He had stopped what he was doing and was staring at her now.

“Excuse me?” Anna tried to make out his features, but his blond bangs hung over a wide bandana covering his forehead and sunglasses obscured his eyes.

“Do I know you,” he said slower, dropping his sunglasses down to get a better look. His brown eyes glared over at her.

Anna crossed her arms in front of her, annoyed at the tone he was taking with her. “You most certainly do not!”

He grinned, which only infuriated Anna. “Good. Line’s at the back of the boat. Get moving.” He pointed again and went back to flipping the food on the grill.

“Well maybe I don’t want to eat here anymore.”

“Suit yourself. Good luck finding something else to eat out here.”

“Rude,” Anna said under her breath. She went to walk away because he did not deserve her business. But her stomach rumbled in protest and what other option did she have?

The line was long and snaked behind a few other boats. It only gave Anna time to stew on the conversation and what an absolute ass the cook had been.

“Hey, Red! From Pabbie’s right?”

Anna was almost taken back at the smiling face in front of her. “Yes. Sven? Did I get that right? I think that’s what the owner called you.”

“You got it. I’m always having someone chase me down calling my name. What can I get you?”

Anna bit her bottom lip looking at the choices. “What do you recommend- the chicken sandwich or the burger?”

“You can’t go wrong with anything, but,” Sven leaned forward. “We’ve got the best burgers on the lake. Trust me, I know the cook.”

“Oh, him.”

Sven glanced behind him then back at Anna. “From here or…somewhere else?”

“A few minutes ago.”

Sven’s face relaxed and he smiled again. “Don’t mind Kris. His bark is worse than his bite.”

“I don’t plan on talking to him again, but thanks.”

“Stick with me Red this summer at the Burger Barge. I won’t steer you wrong.” Sven handed her the burger and a canned drink. “The Coke’s on me. For your pain and suffering.” He winked at her before turning away to take the next customer’s order.

------

The truck pulled onto the driveway, the long trailer behind it making a metallic rattle against the sections of dock it was carrying. Anna got up from her chair on the beach and threw on a shirt over her bikini top, not bothering to button it up. Old shorts and cover up seemed appropriate enough to meet with the dock installers. She was halfway back to the house when two men got out of the truck.

“I don’t know. Go ring the doorbell.”

The voice that got out of the passenger side was familiar, but he was turned away from Anna. She jogged over, waving her hand. “No need. I’m here.”

“Red!” Sven turned and grinned. “We keep running into each other!”

“Hi Sven. And it’s Anna. Anna Arendelle.”

Sven tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, Anna…officially that is. How was the burger?”

“Best one I’ve had in years.”

Sven laughed. “I knew it!” He pointed across the truck. “I think you’ve met my business partner.”

Anna looked through the windows of the truck and recognized him immediately. He was standing there with his head down, clearly not happy. “Oh no.”

Sven bumped Anna’s shoulder. “Relax. If it makes you feel any better, he’s probably freaking out right now.”

Anna giggled as she looked through the window again and saw the man take a deep breath and go to walk around the truck.

“Anna, Kristoff,” Sven said as he introduced them.

“Ma’am,” Kristoff said.

There was a part of Anna that was pleased with how nervous he looked, but she decided to let him off the hook. “Just Anna please.”

Kristoff nodded. “Anna, could you show us where you want the dock?”

A few minutes later, Sven and Kristoff were rolling the sections of the dock down to the beach. Anna took her place back on the beach and picked up her notebook. Sven made small talk with Anna as she went through her plans for the house. Kristoff, on the other hand, kept his words short and only talked to Sven about what they were working on. Still, Anna found herself drawn to Kristoff, watching him from behind her sunglasses. He was easy to keep an eye on, watching him work in the water with just his swim trunks on, the muscles in his back flexing against the weight of the dock. A girl could get used to a view like that.

“Pay no attention to my rude friend,” Sven said as he leveled the two closest sections of the dock together. “He doesn’t like talking to anyone who isn’t a local.”

“I’m a local.”

Kristoff barked a sharp laugh. “For what, five minutes?”

“Ok. Then how long until I’m considered local.”

“Make it past Labor Day and we’ll talk.”

A little later Sven ran back to the marina to pick up extra posts, leaving Anna and Kristoff alone. Anna watched as Kristoff looked like he was mulling something over. After a few minutes he took a deep breath.

“I’d like to apologize for how I talked to you on Saturday. It was rude and unprofessional, and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“No you shouldn’t have.”

“The guy in front of you was trying to scam me for a free burger. Said the order was wrong. It wasn’t. What a crook.”

Anna laughed remembering the scowl on Kristoff’s face. “Apology accepted.”

“Thanks.”

“So, you aren’t just the Burger Barge’s master chef, I see,” Anna said as she watched Kristoff work.

“That’s just a weekend gig Sven and I came up with to make extra money when we were in college. It just took off and we haven’t stopped. I run the marina most of the time.”

“So that’s connected to Pabbies?”

Kristoff nodded. “Family business. It was my grandfather’s. My mom and dad took it over when I was kid and have been running it for years now. We bought the marina when I came on full time after school.”

“We used to go there all the time. It’s one of the good memories I have of my childhood. Spending time on the lake and going over to Pabbies to get a snack was the highlight of my summers. I was so sad when we stopped coming up to the lake.”

Kristoff was leaning against one of the posts now, watching Anna. “So, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Its just you in this giant house by yourself? Seems like a waste.”

“My sister didn’t want to deal with it anymore. It's all part of her freeing herself from worldly possessions process she’s going through. I couldn’t bear the idea of selling it and I needed a fresh start, so I bought out her half from her.”

“So, you’re just here with no plans?”

“If you must know, I do have plans. I’m updating the house and turning it into a bed and breakfast. And I’m going to run it.”

“Great. For more rich tourists to find the lake.”

Anna shook her head. “No. I want it to be affordable. I want people to bring their families and get to enjoy the lake like I did as a child. I want them to have those memories. As many people as possible. There’s so much land on the property, I was thinking of eventually expanding if it goes well. Maybe even hosting weddings. This house was built to be filled with joy and laughter of many people. I feel it in my bones.”

Kristoff went back to anchoring one of the posts. “Sounds ambitious.” Anna was about to argue with him when he added. “But nice. We need more of that around here.”

-----

Anna wasn’t exactly sure why she was nervous, but she was pacing up and down the landing outside of Pabbie’s waiting for Kristoff. They had struck up a bit of a working relationship, with Kristoff working on several smaller outdoor projects on the house as the main work inside was being done. She looked forward every day when he strolled onto the property after his work at the marina, often staying for dinner when she absolutely insisted. He seemed less and less resistant to stay every time she asked. Today was the most excited she’d been all summer. Her boat had arrived at the marina and Kristoff called her that morning saying it was ready for her to pick up. Now she was waiting for her to bring it around and take it out for a test run.

“Need a lift?”

Anna spun around only to see Kristoff pulling up along the landing with a big grin on his face. He put the boat in neutral and waved at her to come over to the edge. In one strong movement, Kristoff lifted her at the waist and into the boat. Anna let out a small squeak when he put her down, breathless at how effortless Kristoff made that look. He went slowly out of the marina area and past the no wake zone of the sand bar. As soon as they were past the buoy, he turned to Anna. “I’ll take it out then show you where everything is. Then it’s all yours.”

“Sounds great!”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere.”

“Want me to open it up? This baby goes fast.”

“Yes! I love to go fast!”

Kristoff gave her another grin and let open the throttle.

-----

They were out in the middle of the lake where Anna had stopped the boat. She was laying on the back of the boat without a care in the world. The water had been too tempting, and she couldn’t resist jumping in. Safely that is, Kristoff insisted on her wearing her life jacket out in the open water. Now she was laying on the towel, stretched out enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Anna felt Kristoff’s eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look over.

Kristoff leaned back on the seat, stretching his legs out. “We’ll get the boatlift put in tomorrow then I’ll bring the boat over.”

“Sounds like a plan. Hey, I need an opinion.”

“Ok.”

“How many boats do you think I should have for next summer? I want the guests to be able to go out on the lake and enjoy it. I was thinking about one pontoon, but is that enough?”

“You want my honest opinion?”

“Duh. That’s why I asked you?”

“None.”

Anna lifted her head and looked at Kristoff. “Wait, what? None?”

“You heard me. Boats are a lot of work and you already have one. What you need is kayaks and paddle boards, a couple canoes and maybe a raft for swimming. That’s all. Keep it non-motorized.”

“But don’t you think I should have something?”

“Not everyone will want to use them. Plus, the expense of keeping them up and the insurance is only going to force you to keep your rates higher.”

“Mmm, suppose you’re right…for once.”

“Watch it.”

Anna pondered her options for a few minutes before sitting up, stretching and wrapping the towel around her. “I’ll just have to recommend Torch Lake Marina as our exclusive source for rentals.”

“I think we may be able to work a deal out with…wait, have you come up with a name for the B&B yet?”

“Working on it.” Anna looked up at the afternoon sun, wishing the day could last longer. “I suppose we should head back. I’ve kept you out too long.”

“I didn’t mind. It was nice spending the time with you. Let’s just hope Sven Actually did some work while I was gone.”

Anna tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “It was nice today, wasn’t it?”

“Hey Anna?”

“Mmm?”

“I won’t be able to come out to the house for a few days.”

She sat down in one of the seats, feeling a sense of disappointment that she wouldn’t be seeing Kristoff, but also that he hadn’t asked her something different.

“Of course. Is everything alright?”

“Just gearing up for the 4th. It’s going to be hectic. Sven and I are going to be out on the boat at the sandbar all week. I wish we could both grow an extra set of arms its going to be so busy. But I’ll see you for the fireworks if you still want to go.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Oh wait! I just had the best idea!”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?”

------

“Who thought this was a good idea?” Kristoff was tapping on the wheel of the pontoon waiting at the landing at Pabbie’s.

“This was all you, my friend,” Sven said with a laugh. “Relax. Anna will be fine, and we need all the help we can get this week.”

“She’s late. We should have left by now.”

“Five minutes isn’t going to change anything.”

“Have you seen the boats out there already?”

Sven rolled his eyes then pointed to the parking lot. “There she is.”

“What the hell is she carrying?”

“I’m here!” Anna yelled walking as fast as she could with the large cardboard box. As soon as she got to the boat, Sven grabbed the box and helped her step on. Kristoff was already in the process of untying the ropes and started moving before Anna sat down.

“Don’t mind him, Red,” Sven said. “He’ll calm down once we get anchored in a good spot. What did you bring?”

Anna smiled. “I’ll show you as soon as we get set up.”

She took the short time it took to ferry out to the sandbar to relax. Anna wasn’t sure what Kristoff’s reaction was going to be with the surprise, but she hoped he was open to it.

“Absolutely not.” Kristoff shook his head when Anna showed him the t-shirts that read ‘Burger Barge Torch Lake’ on them with a silhouette of the pontoon.

“Why?” Anna and Sven whined simultaneously.

“How are we going to sell those and the food? And I don’t have the money to pay you for those, Anna.”

“Relax. You have me to help and I promise I won’t sell a single shirt that gets in the way of the food orders.”

“No one’s going to want those.”

“Wanna bet? You take care of the burgers and I’ll stay out of your way and help sell these. You can pay me back out of the profits from the shirt sales. If they don’t sell, I’ll eat the cost.” Sven and Anna stood there holding their breaths. Finally, Kristoff relented, his face softening. “Ok, but the food is a priority.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

“Don’t start.”

-----

The fire was soothing as Anna sat near it on the double swing. She was bone tired from working these last few days on the pontoon and staying up for the fireworks tonight. But it was a good tired. An ache from an honest day’s work and pure satisfaction. Kristoff came over and sat next to her. He handed her a stack of bills.

“What’s this?”

“Your cut from the week.”

“I don’t need-“

“You earned it. We made more than ever, even splitting it three ways. There’s also the money for the shirts.”

Anna gave Kristoff an impish grin. “I already placed another order. Told you we’d sell out.”

“You were right, and I was wrong.”

“Mmm say that again.”

Kristoff nudged Anna. “Seriously. Thank you for helping us.”

“Anytime.” She rested her head on Kristoff’s shoulder. “How do you do this all the time.”

“You get used to it. Its only for a few weeks in the summer then it quiets down.

“Still impressive.” Anna looked over at the property’s dock and noted the flags flying. “So, who’s the Michigan State fan?”

“Oh that? It’s where I went to school.”

Anna chuckled. “My dad would not be happy with you.”

“University of Michigan alum?”

“Worse, he was the president of the school.”

“The president? Let me guess. You and your sister followed suit.”

“My sister went full ivy league. I pushed back against every expectation and went to Ohio State.”

“Ohio State?! That’s treason. I’d tell you to fly that flag at your place, but it would be like putting a target on your back.”

“Guess I should fly the Michigan State flag then.”

“Nope. Not allowed unless you have someone that lives there.”

“Maybe one day,” Anna said through a yawn as her eyes closed.

The next thing she remembered were warm strong arms carrying her back to the truck to take her home.

-------

“I can’t believe how much nicer it is on the sandbar today!” Anna looked around. There were people, but the masses were gone. There were places to move and not a drunken party every ten feet.

Kristoff was sitting on the back platform of Anna’s boat, legs hanging in the water. “Sven, tell Anna the rules of the sandbars for the locals. Since she isn’t one, she needs to know.”

Sven came over to the group and hopped up on the platform. “Rule 1!” He called out. “Never go to the sandbar on the weekend!” Everyone raised their drinks and cheered. “Rule 2. Stay away from the west side. Only tourists go there! Rule 3. Don’t act like an asshole! And Rule 4. The most important of them all. Don’t engage with the tourists!” Everyone cheered. “Here’s to making it through August everyone. One more week and the summer season is officially done.”

They all clinked their glasses together in solidarity.

The rest of the day was a blast. Anna spent her time talking to everyone, playing games and even making plans to meet up with a few of the girls the next week. It had taken all summer, but Anna felt that she was finally starting to feel at home. She found herself walking with Kristoff later. She also found herself being a little flirtier than usually, a little more playful than normal. Maybe it was her comfort level, maybe it was their seclusion away from the group. Whatever it was, Kristoff didn’t seem to mind.

“I bet I can.”

“No way.”

“Three tries.”

“Three. That’s it. Then you have to admit you can’t do it.’

“Deal,” Anna said in agreement. “Now hold your hands out like that. Remember if you take a step, then I win.”

“And what do you win?” The grin on Kristoff felt dangerous. Anna didn’t want him to stop.

“I’ll tell you after I win.”

She squared herself up to Kristoff, lined her hands up with his, pulled them back and then pushed as hard as she could, contacting his palms. Kristoff stumbled back, surprised at Anna’s force. But then he took another step back, losing his balance as he stumbled and fell into a deep spot on the sandbar.

Anna was doubled over in laughter when he came out of the water soaked and hair flattened down past his eyebrows. “You think that’s funny?” he said, brushing his hair back with his hands.

“N-no, no!” Anna said, trying to talk and laugh at the same time. “I got you. I totally got you!”

“I’ll show you something funny!”

Anna didn’t stand a chance. She screamed in laughter as Kristoff scooped her up and ran. “Kristoff, put me down!”

“Oh, you want down?”

“Yes!”

“Ok.”

Kristoff unceremoniously threw Anna off the edge of the sandbar. Anna screamed, hitting the water. She didn’t stay under long, a strong arm grabbing her, bringing her up. Kristoff was standing just where Anna couldn’t touch the bottom. He held her tight, his hands wrapped around her bare waist.

“You dirty rat. I won.”

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it?”

They didn’t move, locked close together. Anna’s breath hitched at the way Kristoff was looking at her with a want in his eyes. She gave into it too, closing her eyes, leaning in ever so.

“Kris! Anna! Where are you? Time to go! We’re heading out!”

Anna broke away from Kristoff, the moment lost. “We should head back,” she said, walking back to the boat without waiting for him.

-----

“Oh hi, dear.” Bulda was restocking the shelves with shirts. “Anything you need?”

“I was actually looking for Kristoff. Is he over at the marina?”

“He took off early to do some work over at my house for me.”

“How’s he been?” Anna was following Bulda around as she went to clean up the counter near the bakery section.

“Fine. A little quiet. But nothing unusual. Why? Is there something I should be concerned with?”

“No. I just haven’t seen him since before Labor Day and I was wondering how he was.” Anna looked down, wringing her hands. “Bulda, can I ask you a question?”

“Anytime dear.”

“Have you ever tried to do something that you wanted to do, I mean really want to, but then miss your opportunity? And then make it worse because you doubt yourself and over analyze everything. Then make it weird and even more worse by avoiding it all together?”

Bulda stopped what she was working on to listen to Anna. “I don’t know about anything that specific, but I will say that holding something back never helps. Best to just get out what you need to do and move along. Otherwise, it festers.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Anna turned to look across the street at the home on the lake. “So next door?”

Bulda nodded. “In the backyard.”

She knew he saw her, pretending not to notice, then giving in and walking over to the swing.

“Hey.”

Anna patted the seat. “Sit with me.”

He sat, dropping the weight of his body the last few inches with a weary sigh. Neither of them said anything at first as they slowly swayed back and forth.

“Anna, I'm sorry.”

“Kris, there’s nothing to be sorry about."

“But there is. I’m sorry if I read something wrong and made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.”

“Then why have you been ignoring me?”

Anna turned to face Kristoff. “The house is finished and the permits came this week. I think I can start having guests this fall. I just need to get the staff up and running and the marketing done.”

“That’s great. But I don’t understand what that has anything to do with what we’re talking about.”

“It does. The house. The project. It’s the first time I’ve ever been able to do something truly for myself. Where I can say this was my idea. This is what I want to do. Do you know how scary that can be?”

“I guess.” Kristoff was leaning forward, elbows on his thighs, clearly concerned with the conversation. When Anna placed her hand on his thigh, he looked up at her.

“There’s other things that I want too. But that’s just as frightening sometimes to trust my feelings.” Anna took Kristoff’s hand and led him to sit back up and face her. “I’m the one who’s sorry. For ignoring you and for ever doubting what I want. Because I know. I truly know there’s nothing more I want right now than you.”

Anna felt Kristoff's whole body go from rigid and defensive to relaxed. He grinned at her, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. “You know I have a rule,” he said resting his head against the back of the swing.

“Still won’t consider me a local. Ridiculous.”

“Well, you did make it past Labor Day, so I guess you are officially a local now.”

“Would you stop talking and kiss me?”

“Gladly.”

His hand cupped Anna’s cheek pulling her into a soft kiss. Anna closed her eyes, grinning through the kiss as she savored the moment, never wanting it to end. A cool breeze blew in from the lake. Kristoff wrapped Anna tighter in his arms as she shivered. It was a reminder of how quickly things could change and this time Anna welcomed it with arms wide open.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I finally have a name for the B&B.”

“What’s that?”

“The Toasted Marshmallow.”

Kristoff let out a hearty laugh.

“You like it?”

Kristoff leaned down lips brushing Annas. “I absolutely love it,” he said before kissing her again.

#All Summer Long #Edin what did you write #Frozine #Summer Lovin Frozine #Torch Lake

[rosesgonerogue]

Blind Date

Daminette December Day 2

WARNING: This one turned into a crack post, don’t expect anything too good. 

Marinette wasn’t sure how she had gotten herself into this situation. She was here in Gotham for a fashion internship, not to date! Then again, when you’re set up by a superhero, it’s kind of hard to say no. 

She idly played with her earrings. She hadn’t had to be Ladybug for a while now, and she had to admit she missed it. Hawkmoth being behind bars was fantastic, but she missed the freedom, the thrill of sailing through the air with her yo-yo. She would have patrolled the area, but it hadn’t taken long for Marinette to gather the fact that newcomers weren’t really welcome on the justice scene. Tikki had convinced Marinette to see this as a positive thing, but she couldn’t help but feel she should be doing more. 

What does one even wear to a blind date? This was absurd, why did Nightwing set her up in the first place? Marinette threw yet another blouse on the bed in the rejection pile before finally settling on a light pink sundress. It walked that fine line between casual and slightly formal, so it would be appropriate in most settings, even if the Gotham spring wasn’t particularly warm. A pair of tights and a nice jacket should fix that. 

She was officially ready, and feeling a bit ridiculous. Was this all some dream?

A part of her wished it had been. She had been walking home one night when she was cornered by a few thugs. She probably could have dealt with them, but it would have been hard without transforming. She had taken one of the men down when a man in a sleek black bodysuit intervened. 

He had been impressed with how quickly she had disabled the first man, and the two of them began speaking for a while. Nightwing was a little strange, but at the same time he was clever and funny. He was also interested in her. She found herself telling him about growing up in Paris and her fashion internship here. She explained why she knew so much about self defense, and told a few stories just for entertainment’s sake as he walked her to her apartment. 

Before he had left, Nightwing asked for a piece of paper and scribbled an address. “Come here Friday night at six o’clock, I know someone who you would be perfect with. Just ask for Damian.”

He had left before she could reply, tell him that she was too busy for a love life right now. She had toyed with the idea of hunting the superhero down, or even just not showing up, but Marinette felt obligated to go. The American superheroes were a different breed than the Parisian ones, it would seem. 

So here she found herself walking to the address on the paper. She hoped that the date wouldn’t last long, because walking home in the dark didn’t appeal to her. Especially if this was how Gotham’s heroes “helped” people. 

The address was a fancier restaurant than Marinette usually went to, especially as her internship didn’t pay for much more than her room and board. She still took the occasional commission on, so she wasn’t destitute, but she couldn’t be extravagant. 

“Reservation?” The hostess asked shortly, barely even glancing at Marinette.

“I’m here for a blind date? The only name I was given is Damian.” 

The hostess choked, eyes wide as she stared at Marinette. “Yes, of course, just follow me this way, ma’am.”

Marinette trailed behind as they moved into a private room that was entirely too nice for a mere blind date. This whole thing was ridiculous, Marinette had things to do. 

So far the other party of this date had yet to arrive. Marinette shrugged and began gnawing on a breadstick. She was contemplating what time she was allowed to leave without being rude when something crashed into the window. 

It was most likely a bird, so Marinette moved forward to check on the poor thing when the window was wrenched open. She bit back a scream when the masked face of Nightwing popped in. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late, it took me a while to get your date here,” the cheerful hero said, hefting a wriggling mass in through the window. “Have fun, kids!”

The wriggling mass that hit the ground pretty hard turned out to be a boy around her age, trussed up like a pig as he growled in multiple languages through his blindfold. Marinette made quick work of the knots, worriedly examining him, asking, “Are you okay, did you hit your head? Does anything hurt?” 

The boy shrugged her off. “Only my pride. I’m going to murder that ridiculous bird.” 

“It is kind of insane,” Marinette agreed. “What did he think, that he can just shove two civilians into the same room and expect them to fall in love?” The second the words came out of her mouth, Marinette remembered being at a zoo with two friends in a panther cage, but that was different! She wasn’t sure how, but it definitely was! 

“I can almost guarantee that that is exactly what went through that fool’s mind. He should learn that he’s a vigilante, not a matchmaker,” the boy said darkly. 

“He doesn’t do this, like frequently, does he?”

“Thankfully not. If he did, I would end him for the greater good.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “That seems just a tad over the top. I’m Marinette, by the way.” 

The boy simply stared at the proffered appendage. “What, do you think this makes us friends now?” 

“No, not yet at least. But I figure if we’re going to enact justice on a vigilante, we should at least know each other’s names.”

Despite himself, he found his lips twisting up into a smile. “Damian.”

As they chatted about possible retribution, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Grayson was right about this girl after all. 

That didn’t mean he was safe from them, though.

There you have it, the product of my sleep-deprived mind! Like I said, it’s a bit of a crack fic, but it also seems very Miraculous. Thanks for reading, and please, let me know what you think!

Taglist: 

@ozmav @daminette-december2019 @cravethosecrazysquares @krispydefendorpolice @thesunanditsangel @sonif50 @kris-pines04 @persephonebutkore @tbehartoo

Let me know if I missed anyone on the taglist!

#daminette #daminette december 2k19 #maridami #maribat #blind date

[always5hineee]

Hell and Back- Chapter 15: Canyon Birds (Trial 21)

Word count: 1894

Chapter warnings: Dangerous actions

[Please do not replicate any of the behaviors read in this book.]

-----

       "Alright, the limited power is Suho this time." Y/N said, finally having calmed down from their not-so-joyride.

       "Luhan was originally going to go, so why not have him do it now?" Sehun pointed out.

       "Uh-" Luhan started to sau, before Kyungsoo agreed.

       "Yes, that would make the most sense."

       "I don't know if I-"

       "Alright, Y/N, hit the button," Kris said, trying to get a move-on as quickly as possible. Noting his nervousness, Y/N leaned over, muttering a small bit of reassurance.

       "Luhan, the sooner you do the challenge, the sooner it will be out of the way. They get harder, so the longer you wait, the worse it's going to get. It's your second challenge, you're almost there." He breathed in.

       "Yeah, I guess, but still... I have a bad feeling about this."

       "We'll keep you safe, don't worry."

       "I... If you say so." Making brief eye contact with her, she realized that he was even just slightly shaking. Was he actually that scared? She put a hand on his shoulder, nodding, then clicked on his name. Watching it load up, she called everyone back to attention.

       "Alright, the next trial is... Parkour?"

       "That sounds like fun." Baekhyun shrugged.

       She looked over at Luhan, who was now completely white.

       "Are you okay?" She whispered.

       "I- I can't- that's not-" His hands were tangled together, knuckles pale with the pressure he was putting on his own skin. He was obviously trying to get the words out, but he was just stuttering over and over, practically zoned out.

       "He'll be fine," Kris waved a hand. "What's the rest of the challenge say?"

       "Uh," she looked down. "The price of dropping out is still... 'failure', whatever that means. The italics..." she squinted to see them. "Apparently there are a few bridges nearby. We need to pick one, and he can cross it by jumping between the beams on one of the outer edges."

       "That explains why Suho is out." Kyungsoo mentioned, always analyzing the reasoning behind each challenge. "If it's a bridge, there's water underneath, so he'd be at an advantage." Kris continued driving, pulling onto a left turn. He evidently knew where the nearest bridge was. As it was becoming late afternoon, there were periodic cars, but it didn't seem like anyone would bother them.

       Everyone started to get out of the car, although Luhan remained in place. She looked to him, then out the window at the bridge. Just as the app had said the sides were lined with support beams, although they weren't very deep. Or sturdy. It wouldn't be impossible to make it across, just very, very difficult. He'd have to focus.

       "What's so bad, Luhan?" she asked in a low voice, trying to make it not seem like a big deal. "Even if Suho can't use his powers, we still have Sehun with wind, Kris with flight, and Kai with teleportation. Even past that, Tao can reverse time if something bad happens, or you could even use your powers on yourself." It was ironic how just moments before she had been complaining about the reliance on their powers, but now she was trying to use it to calm Luhan down.

       "I... I don't... I just don't really prefer being high up." She tilted her head slightly, not having expected it. Although Luhan was clearly one of the shyer members of their friend group, he had never seemed so shaken by something.

       "It'll be alright, come on." She grabbed his hand, half helping, half pulling him out of the car. Putting her arm behind his, she placed a hand on his lower back, trying to steady his shaking. As they walked to the edge of the bridge, she looked down, head spinning at the distance. Even aside from his self-proclaimed discomfort, the height would worry anyone. Still, the rest of the boys seemed nonchalant about it.

       "Let's get a move on!" Baekhyin cheered, jumping around dangerously close to the unguarded edge. She looked over to the man she was supporting, his eyes dilating in and out, proving to her that his vision was falling between focused and blurry.

       "Listen," she muttered. Step on the first beam, and I'll follow you on the bridge side. You'll be on the outside edge, I'll be on the inside. The requirements never said I couldn't help you, yeah?" He looked at her, acknowledging her words, but was unable to nod or say anything. "It'll be okay, I promise."

       She helped him over to the bridge, trying her best to cover up how terrified the man was. She knew that at least some of the boys must have known that this wasn't quite his thing, but she still didn't want him to suffer the embarrassment of everyone watching it. His ankles tremors with weakness as he stepped out onto the first bar- the only one still supported by the Earth. Removing her hand from his body, she carefully crossed around the wall to come face-to face with him on the other side.

       As she was on the bridge and he was on the beams, he was a bit shorter than usual, gripping the edge with white knuckles. She placed her hands on top of his, palm to the overtops of his hands, allowing her to firmly grab onto his wrists as best she could without hurting him. He looked up to her, eyes on the brink of watering as they darted back and forth, occasionally glancing to his feet.

       "Don't look at the ground. You're fine. I've got you, okay?" He breathed in, the noise shaky, trying to nod. "Alright, now you just have to step to your left. Can you do that for me?"

       "B-but-" He started trying to say, the first words he'd spoken since he'd gotten out of the car. "But I can't see t-the floor unless-"

       "Just keep reaching your foot out until I tell you you'll make it, okay?" He had no choice but to do as she instructed, feeling around for the wooden beam as his hands slid excruciatingly slowly, guided by hers, along the edge. "Good." She reassured him as he just lightly touched the beam with his foot.

       Once he was on the second beam, she looked to his feet. The distance from them to the water had increased a sizable amount, even in just that one large step. She glanced back to the group of boys, who was watching eerily silently. Normally they would be joking around, or just not paying attention at all, but for some reason, this intrigued them.

       "Let's go on to the next one."

       "I- I don't want to, I can't-"

       "You'll be fine." She kept repeating. "Everything's going to be fine. Just keep going." They made it onto the third, then to the fourth. By the fifth beam, they were nearly to the center of the beam. The rushing water below was roaring in her ears, making it impossible to concentrate, but she still tried to keep Luhan's eyes on her. "Good, now just step."

       As he reached for the fifth beam, testing it with his foot, it was about the same as the previous times. His leg was still shaking uncontrollably, but he hadn't slipped. Once he mounted the beam, shifting his wait and drawing the other foot over, though, she heard a sickening crack. Looking down, she saw that the beam was writing at its ties with the bridge, clearly already failing under Luhan's weight.

       "Alright, next one-" She prompted, trying not to sound panicked."

       "J-just give me a s-"

       "No!" She said, laughing awkwardly. "No, you need to move now Luhan. Right now."

       "I-" Instinctively, she looked back down to the beam, which was already leaning. Feeling it under his feet and seeing her look, he, out of habit, looked down. Not only was he faced with the near-breaking-point board supporting his entire body, but he also leered into the seemingly endless abyss, rushing water taunting him at the bottom. Yelling in surprise and terror, he half-shook, half-jumped, causing it to snap completely beneath him.

       "Luhan!" She screamed as he fell instantly, wrists torn from her grip as the angle wrenched his hands away from her. Leaning over the bridge, she was reaching out, as if able to stop him with her sheer willpower. His face was nearly blank, as if his brain had shut down the idea of his fall altogether. Quickly, Kris appeared underneath him, grabbing him by the waist like a firefighter catching a trapped kitten. He swiftly brought the man back up past the edge of the gorge, sitting him down on the grass. Running over, Y/N knelt next to him, winding her arms around his shoulders as he rocked back and forth slightly.

       "I am so, so sorry, you're okay, everything's okay." She was shushing him as if he were a little kid, trying to get his crying to subside. It wasn't a soft, dignified crying, either. He was completely racked by sobs, holding his head between his knees in terror. "It's all right, everything's all right."

       "We still have to finish the challenge, though." Chanyeol said under his breath. Chen tried to shush him, but Luhan overheard, sending him into even more of a panic.

       "Just give him a second." Suho said with a sigh. "He can try again when he's ready."

       "No!" He shouted, startling everyone. She tried to keep him from freaking out, running her hand over his shoulder blades, but he continued to yell. "No! I'm not trying again! I'm not! I'm not! No!"

       "Luhan, we-"

       "I'm quitting! I'm dropping out!" He said, tears still streaming down his face as his body heaved. He was going to cry himself to the point of throwing up.

       "Honey, you can't do that-" she started to warn him, running a hand through the back of his hair as he continued crying. "We don't know what the catch really means, and if you stop now you can't play anymore.

       "I don't care!" He yelled. "I don't care..." Wiping his eyes, he tried to stand, nearly falling if not for Y/N catching him. He pushed her off rather rudely, walking past the car.

       "Luhan, come on-" Suho ran after him, trying to grab him by the arm. Shaking him off, he moved from being terrified and shaken to just angry.

       "I didn't even want to be a part of this to begin with. It was a fun idea, okay? But this is ridiculous. This is only the twenty-first challenge, by the end, what will we be doing? You all can keep playing for as long as you want, but I refuse to put myself through this anymore."

       "But the failure, it's not-"

       "I don't give a shit. How is this-" He pulled out his phone, waving the app around. "This stupid little thing going to ruin my life? I'm not dumb, they just want to mess with us, and it's gonna get one of us killed. Well you know what?" He pressed a button, Y/N leaping forward to try and stop him, but it was too late. The screen had shifted to a maroon color, a white message reading that he had left the game.

       "I quit."

Go to Chapter 16

#exo #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #chen #chanyeol #sehun #suho #baekhyun #xiumin #kyungsoo #luhan #kris #tao #lay #kpop #Kpop x reader #x reader #Kpop fanfiction #Kpop fanfic #trials

[luninosity]

feettootie said:MOR – I mean! thank you. If course I mean Thank You! I’d never be SO rude as to demand an end to Justin’s suffering Right Now. …nope, not me. :-)                            

~

...more, you say? Following on from the previous...

#

“We’ll leave.” Mara slid to her feet. “We don’t want to…to make him feel more than he has to. But…give me your hand.”

 Kris did. The shoved-up sleeve of his shirt caught his eye: indigo, because Justin liked purple; a deeper solid color, because he wasn’t young enough for transparent or fish-net anymore, but with little glittery bits in, under stage jewelry.

 Because he’d been performing. Because it’d been their show—

 He wanted to start shaking. He felt sick.

 Justin’s aunt touched his hand; sparks seared, flared, settled into skin. Kris had worn Justin’s demon-mark, the claiming-mark, for so long that he rarely thought about it; Justin’s fingerprints settled easily in smoke and scarlet over his forearm. Protection from anyone else, Justin had said once, and a promise: Kris could touch the mark, press his own fingers into it, and call his demon-husband to his side.

 The back of his hand glimmered in ruby sunfire, now. Mara said, “It’ll last for two days, more or less, that one. I won’t renew it unless you ask. If you need us…”

 “I’ll call you.” Kris wiggled fingers. “I promise.”

 “Good,” she said, and touched Justin’s shoulder again. “Pet? We’re going. We’ll come back if you ask.”

 Justin blinked, yawned, winced, managed the pencil-sketch of a smile. “Thank you.”

 “Oh, don’t thank us,” Mara said, “you’re going to be human for a while, and we’re very sorry,”

 “I am human.” Justin’s smile grew a fraction. “And Kris will take care of me.”

 “He’d better,” said his aunt, and all three demons vanished, because they knew a good exit line; the air tasted of smoke and hot coals and wild flowers, after.

 Night fell like wings around them: amber light, sofa-cushions, New York twinkling companionably through wide windows. Stars and lights craned their necks; Justin curled himself further under the blanket.

 Kris tucked knitted stripes more closely around him. “Are you cold, love?”

 “A little. Mostly it’s just that everything hurts…” Justin snuck a hand up; Kris took it and kept it and guarded it ferociously. “I’ve pushed myself before, but this feels worse.”

 “D’you want coffee? Tea? Our bed?” He rubbed a thumb over the back of Justin’s hand, marveling: Justin was real and alive and loved him. “Anything.”

 “You’re trying to do something,” Justin said. “To do something, make something, fix something…”

 “Please let me?”

 “It’s not fixable,” Justin said. “You heard them…”

 “They said rest. And stay calm, and quiet.” He lifted Justin’s hand, dropped a kiss there. “I’m here for all of that.”

 “You love me.”

 “I do. Married you, didn’t I?”

 This got a laugh, though small; he’d guessed it would. “Kris Starr,” Justin said. “Married. To me.”

 “To the best person I’ve ever known.” One more kiss. “You didn’t answer me about the tea. And—I know your aunts said human doctors wouldn’t help, but would it, at all? You are half human, and they don’t know everything.”

 “They don’t, but I don’t think it’d make a difference.” Justin scrunched up that nose. “I know what’s wrong—I know how I feel—and there’s not really a fix for this kind of burnout. I could maybe use some extra-strength painkillers, but that’s about it.”

 His phone buzzed again, with a mild sense of shame about interruptions. Kris planned to ignore it some more; Justin said, abruptly horrified, “My family. The news—”

 Kris said a word or two that his mother would’ve never countenanced, and snatched up the mobile. Family. Yes. Six missed calls from Justin’s parents and assorted siblings, eight texts, and three other calls, one from Justin’s best friend Anna, one from his friend and employer Willie Randolph and one from Kris’s own best friend and former bassist. “Gods, even Reggie called you—”

 “You don’t have your phone.” Justin struggled to sit up; Kris dove in for support. “The stories…”

 The stories splashed themselves across headlines and home pages and social media. Accident at Kris Starr concert. Collapsing balcony. Heroic rescue. Lots of pictures of Kris and Justin standing side by side on stage; a few less tactful snapshots of Kris cradling Justin in the wake of calamity.

 Kris scrolled hastily past those. No need to see it. Or to relive it. He was still living it. “Should I call your mum?”

 “Yes, please…”

 They did. Justin’s family answered in a riot of emotion, despite the late hour. Both Professors Moore-Bautista were not only awake but alarmed; the twins and little Isabella had evidently stayed awake, worried about their oldest brother, and even James and Stephanie joined in via shared video call. Justin’s closest sibling pushed up his glasses and asked, “What caused the collapse? Do they know?”

 James always had been an engineer at heart, just like his wife; they were working on the interdimensional gateway project out at that California lab, Kris knew. James also looked too much like Justin: younger, plus the glasses and minus the demon half, but they had the same chin and the same nose and the same unconscious head-tilt when listening. Kris’s heart couldn’t quite handle that at the moment, and tensed a little.

 “We don’t know,” Justin answered, “but someone will. Probably just age; it was an old venue…”

 “Too old,” Kris grumbled.

 “Justin…” Justin’s father had always looked exactly like Kris’s mental idea of a historian: tall and thin, all salt-and-pepper, scholarly and gentlemanly over a secret giddy heart that’d once upon a time jumped into the pit at Kris Starr concerts and loved a demon wife and raised a half-demon son. Right now his eyes brimmed over with anxiety. “The news says you’re hurt?”

 “I’m…” Justin hesitated. “Kris is fine. I’m…not physically hurt.”

 “Yes you are,” Kris said.

 Justin’s family got more worried.

 Justin sighed. “It’s just burnout, okay? Nothing hit me or anything, I just over-extended myself. I’ll be okay.”

 “That sort of psychic trauma can be—”

 “Kells,” Justin said to his stepmother, “I know. I’m going to be fine.” Affection colored his tone, clear and bright. “The aunts came over and checked on me. It’s going to be not exactly fun for a while, but they said I should be okay.”

 They’d said they thought so. Different. Not the same. Kris stared hard at his husband. Justin yawned and put his head on Kris’s shoulder. “Mostly I need to rest. We only wanted to check in. We’re all right.”

 “Don’t do anything much,” Justin’s stepmother said, “and we can send Andy and Eddie over with anything you need, or at least throw some egg rolls or soup or turon and caramel sauce through one of James’s miniature portal prototypes, there’s still one in the lab out back and I could fiddle with the coordinates—”

 “That’s where that one is,” James said, illuminated. “I thought I’d left it on campus…”

 “You left that one with your parents,” Steph said, “and also the hyperstring predictor we were working on, the one that didn’t work, and also the interdimensional camera is still in your mom’s lab, but we’ll pick it up when we’re up there for the symposium next week—”

 “Oh, right, and we can drop by and say hi to Justin and Kris too…”

 “You’re always welcome,” Justin said, “even if that was so unsubtle you might’ve been shouting it through the portal. I really will be fine, guys.”

 Every single family member narrowed eyes at him. Justin held up hands in surrender. “Check on me if you want. But I’ve got Kris. I’m totally taken care of.”

 “You are.” Kris folded an arm around him. “And you’re going to rest, after this, and let me do that.” This time Justin’s family all beamed at him. Kris did not mind. He loved Justin. That was that. Simple.

 Justin’s family got off the phone, with admonitions about resting and being comfortable. Justin yawned again, and winced, and moved a hand to rub his temple. Then winced again.

 “That hurts?” Kris took over the gentle caresses. “Everything hurts, you said. Oh—hang on, we do have some sort of painkillers, I think…want them?”

 “Oh gods yes. Please.”

 Kris practically ran. Found a half-empty bottle—old but not expired—in a kitchen cabinet. Grabbed some water and some biscuits—chocolate, which was good, Justin liked chocolate—and ran back. His demon needed energy. “Here. Also we need to do some grocery shopping.”

 “Well, you’ve been on tour.” Justin took pills obediently, sipped water, nibbled when Kris offered him food. “We didn’t expect to be home much…”

 “We are now. I’ll get anything you want. Delivered.”

 “Love you. Can there be pizza?”

 “There can definitely be pizza. And your garlic breadsticks.” He fed Justin another cookie. “Any better?”

 “Kris, I’ve only just taken them.”

 “I know. I just…”

 “I know,” Justin said. “I know. I think…I do want to try to sleep, for a while. Maybe it’ll hurt less. You should call Reggie. And maybe call Anna back for me? I would, but I’m so tired.”

 “Rest,” Kris said, heart choking his throat. “Rest, love. I’ll handle that.”

 Justin closed both eyes—browner more human eyes, less laced with mysterious spice and smoke—and settled into blankets on the sofa. Kris took a deep breath, bent forward, braced elbows on knees. Scrubbed hands over his face.

 Justin was alive. That was everything.

 The coffee table nudged his leg in sympathy. He put a hand on it.

 Justin was hurt—would continue to be hurt—would be more human. Not fixable. Only rest, and time. The shiver struck his spine and made him shudder.

 He made himself call Anna. Justin’s best friend listened with typical practicality, asked whether she should come over, not necessarily this instant but soon, and if so whether she could pick up any shopping for them. Kris nearly wept at the gesture, which earned a, “Don’t you dare, Kris Starr,” followed by, “if you cry then I’ll cry, and then I’ll have to evaporate your next cup of tea before you drink it.” Anna had minor and entirely human water-related magical affinities; Kris had sometimes wondered whether she and Justin got along so well because of the complementary elements.

 She promised to come by the next day, and to bring groceries and homemade banana bread; she audibly remembered which of them was incapacitated and unable to cook, and also promised to bring some actual meals. She also said she’d stop by Justin’s high-rise editorial office and pick up any physical manuscripts or advance copies of books or authorial contracts. Kris thanked her again, and went on to the next call he’d realized he needed to make, which involved Justin’s boss. Fortunately Wilhelmina Randolph, head of that extensive multimedia publishing empire, adored Justin; she’d known him, or at least known of him, ever since he’d been an excited underground music scene reporter writing for fanzines and punk-rock outlets and occasionally consensually falling into bed with one or more story subjects. She’d seen the news as well; she told Kris to not worry about anything, and to focus on Justin’s health.

 Kris eyed his husband. Justin was asleep now, smaller than usual under heaps of blankets, long legs strangely vulnerable. Even his hair looked wrong: so completely ordinary, soft and lovely but in a purely human way, falling in washed-out ginger waves across a pillow.

 He felt the corners and edges and harmonies of anguish tremble, an explosion of empathic rage and grief and love that did not escape. He did not let it.

 Calm. Warmth. Soothing.

 He made tea, straightforward Earl Grey, and breathed in the scent of it. Justin did not wake.

 He texted Reggie. Reg called back, which meant he was actually genuinely concerned. “Kris? Why’ve you got Justin’s phone?”

 “Mine’s still…someplace. Dressing room. England. Someone’ll bring it.” He looked at Justin and the sofa; he looked at his tea. His hand shook. He set the mug down. “He’s…he’s really hurt, Reg.”

 “Oh, gods,” Reg said. “Kris, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You want me to fly out there? To get you anything, to send you anything? Is he…how bad is it?” And his voice was the voice of the friend who’d been there when Christopher Thompson’d picked up his first guitar, and who’d stood side by side with Kris at Sarah Thompson’s funeral—she’d loved Reggie Jones like a second son—and who’d been the best man at Kris and Justin’s wedding.

 “I don’t know,” Kris whispered, and pressed a hand over his mouth; somehow a minute later he found himself sitting on the floor in the hallway, sobs rattling his chest while Reggie talked to him urgently, gently, with love.

 Eventually he ran out of tears. Justin hadn’t stirred; Kris, sitting on the hardwood planks, felt oddly lighter, if shakier. “…sorry.”

 “Nah, you needed that.” Reggie sounded surprisingly comfortable with being long-distance emotional support. “Get it out. ‘S fine. You said he’s doing okay? But he is hurt?”

 “He’s human,” Kris whispered, “and he’s in pain,” and tried to explain more while Reg listened.

 Reggie said, when he was done, “So he’ll recover. They said so.”

 “Yeah…but…what if—”

 “Kris, they said so.”

 “I just want him to not be hurt…”

 “So you’ve got painkillers, maybe some willow bark, cloves, stuff somebody with some herbal healing gifts worked on? And food. I know he needs food. I’ve seen your adorable husband eat.”

 “I’ll get him pizza…”

 “Okay. You’re gonna be okay. You know what he needs, yeah? And he’ll tell you if something’s wrong.”

 “He will.” Justin would.

 “Okay, then.”

 “Have I ever told you,” Kris said wearily, “how much I don’t deserve you?” The floor was getting extra-hard; he thought he could probably get up now. His tea was waiting patiently over on the table.

 “You have,” Reggie said, “but you can always say it again. Check in with me tomorrow, maybe?”

 “Sure.”

 “Love you both,” Reg said, and got off the phone; if Kris was any judge, his former-bassist-turned-vineyard-owner was already planning care baskets to send them.

 The thought made him smile. Reggie did care. Justin had friends; Kris and Justin had friends.

 He peeled himself off the floor, and went to sit with his husband.

  Justin slept, on and off, for the rest of the night. He did not sleep easily; he woke with small sounds of pain, and creases between eyes. Kris, heart knotting his throat, offered painkillers, tea, coffee, various foods—sweet, savory, anything Justin indicated interest in—and stayed awake. His hands seemed to help: stroking Justin’s hair, kneading Justin’s back or the nape of his neck, being present and steady. A few knots unwound in his chest when Justin smiled tiredly at him, and nibbled pizza, and murmured, “That feels good…” while nestling more into Kris’s touch.

 Trusting. Relaxed. So unguarded about placing himself into Kris’s care. Justin was a fucking miracle. But then Kris had always thought so.

 He sang to his husband, along with the backrubs and hair-petting. His own songs, love songs, ballad rock new and old. Some decades-old silly pop love ditties. Some lullabies, the one or two that he vaguely recalled in his mother’s voice. Justin turned his head, at that last, enough to nuzzle a kiss into Kris’s caressing hand.

 Justin at another point yawned and said, “I can make it to bed, I think, if you want?” Kris shrugged a shoulder and told him that anywhere was fine, the sofa was fine, not moving at all would be fine. Justin pointed out that their bed was bigger and therefore better for full-body cuddling. Kris gave in, in part because Justin did look marginally better, or at least less pale.

 In their bedroom, Justin sank down on the end of the bed, which held him up anxiously; the rainbow-striped duvet tucked itself around him. Kris, heart fluttering in his throat, touched Justin’s shirt, the edge of skinny jeans; Justin laughed briefly, an escape of air. “You just like me naked.”

 “I do. But I was thinking more about you being comfortable.”

 “I know.” Justin smothered a yawn in a hand. “I can change, I think…pajama pants…”

 “Yeah, that was the plan.” Kris found the cozy flannel ones, the type designed for New York winters, plus a long-sleeved old Phantom Fighters shirt that Justin wore a lot around the apartment on icy nights, and came back over. “Want help?”

 Justin made a not-quite-annoyed face, sighed, and held up arms. “Yeah…”

 “Love you,” Kris affirmed, with a kiss to the tip of his nose; and slid rock-show clothing off and protective warm clothing on, with care.

 He did love Justin’s naked body: slim hips, smooth skin, lean thighs, that lovely long swinging cock, that pert backside. His fingers knew the feeling of all those places, the sensations of Justin under his touch. They wanted to linger; he gazed at his own hands over Justin’s waist. Justin wasn’t generally fragile—demon magic, runner’s muscles, punk-kid boots, and writer’s cleverness abounded—and was fearless, exploratory, delighted, in bed.

 Justin was injured now, and moved as if breathing hurt. Kris curled a hand over his hip, tugged pajama pants up, and leaned in to kiss his stomach: feather-light, no demands, full of too many emotions to express.

 Justin put a hand out, touched Kris’s hair, coaxed his gaze up. Their eyes met; Justin smiled.

 In bed, twined together, Kris read to him for a while—a history of nineteen-fifties all-girl all-witch groups—and hummed a few songs for him and held tea for him to sip and some trail mix for him to nibble. Justin, drowsy and safe, draped an arm around Kris, snuggled in, and drifted in and out.

 Kris loved him. Kris loved every piercing, terrifying, potentially heartbreaking moment of life with him. Wouldn’t change a thing. Here in their bedroom, under the kindly glow of a single lamp, some wrist cuffs and the collar from their wedding-night in the drawer under the bed, he understood as much.

 He loved Justin, and Justin had the kind of heart that’d leap in to help people; Kris wouldn’t take that away. He’d never want to. Not when Justin could still feel that way, could still love the world that way, in beautiful courageous defiance of an ex-boyfriend and a past and a world still a little unsure about demonkind, though that was getting better.

 He hated Justin being hurt. But he could never ask his husband, his hero, the man who’d saved his life long before any of the night’s events, to be less than a marvel. Justin had looked at Kris Starr, cranky and petulant aging rock legend, and had seen someone worth salvaging, caring for, loving. Even before they’d been lovers. Even when Kris had insulted him and pretended they weren’t friends.

 Justin loved like that: a gift, freely given. Because he thought someone—an old rock star, a friend, a person he’d only just met, a writer he’d offered a book contract—deserved to be loved.

 Sometimes he couldn’t believe Justin had married him. Sometimes he could believe it, and then he swore on every single battle-lined bit of whatever soul he’d got left that he’d make Justin’s life as splendid and delicious and full of cherishing as his husband deserved.

 He’d stopped reading, as the sun came up. He thought Justin might be asleep; he tried not to yawn, and failed. Not as young as he used to be. Not as bouncy. But Justin needed him.

 Justin folded the arm more tightly around Kris’s waist, murmured, “You can sleep, I’m here,” and wriggled closer: all worn-out half-demon loyal fierceness, even when mostly mortal. “You should rest too. With me.”

 “You sure?” He ran a hand over Justin’s head. So human. Very human. Red and dull. “Was kinda thinking I’d stay awake, in case you needed me.”

 “I do need you,” Justin explained into Kris’s shoulder. “Right here. I’m okay…sort of…mostly, anyway…I’ll wake you if I’m not. If I’m hurting worse. I promise. Sleep with me.”

 Kris sighed.

 “Please?”

 “…all right. But you’ll wake me if you feel worse.”

 “I promise, Kris.”

 “Even a tiny bit worse. Even if you only think you might feel worse. Or you’re thirsty. Or hungry. Or—”

 “Kris.”

 “…I love you,” Kris muttered, defeated. “Love.”

 “I know.” Justin waited for Kris to flip the light off, then fit himself into elderly knightly arms. “I love you. Always. My Kris.”

 “Yeah,” Kris breathed, as Justin’s human hair kissed his chin, as light crept around curtain-edges and traced familiar bedposts and doorknobs in gold, “yours.”

#feettootie #replies #a demon for midwinter #fic in progress #you're all encouraging this! #a demon and his rock star #hurt/comfort tropes all over the place

[lusciousbitch0411-blog]

“I Found.”

Prologue

He held his waist, pulling him closer for a kiss. He held his hands above his head with one hand, and the other hand unbuttoning his polo. His breaths were heavy and hot. His kisses trailed down his neck, which made him threw his head backwards. Down to his chest, and to one of his nipples. He gasped, groaned and moaned. He was busy licking his pink nipples, sucking and slightly biting them, making them twitch. He stopped. “What do you want me to do?”

1

“So class, we have an upcoming community service. We will be visiting elementary schools this February 1, Friday. The activity will be by pair. Your roommate will be your pair. We will stay there for 1 week. Prepare your things, okay? That’s all. Class dismissed.” The last teacher said. He heard other students complain, some excited and some didn’t care. Well, he’s alone in his room. No one would be willing to be his roommate and he didn’t bother to know why. ‘That’s much better,’ he always thought. He stood up and headed to his room. Room 143. ‘Cliché,’ he thought whenever he sees his room number. He went in and started packing his things for the activity that will commence three days from now. It’s not that he’s excited, it’s just that, he wants to adapt to a new environment for inspiration to write. He brought his camera, his laptop, his headphones, and other necessities. He was almost done packing when the door flew open. A guy, maybe 2 years older than him, with perfectly fined jaw, thick eyebrows, long eyelashes, broad shoulders, white skin, pink lips, white hair, and those blue eyes, went in his goddamn door. ‘I didn’t check him out,’ he defended himself. He looked at the guy and the guy looked at him too. The guy looked down at the small notebook he was carrying, and looked at the room number, and back to him. “Is this really room 143?” The guy asked. “Obviously.” He replied shortly. Irritated, he finished packing and faced the guy. “Why are you looking at me like that?” The guy asked. ‘Seriously? Why the fuck is he so dense?’ He thought. “You should knock.” He retorted. The guy said nothing and went in. “Who told you to go in?” He asked. Not caring if he’s being rude to a newcomer. “This is my room.” The guy said. “No. It’s MY room. Maybe it’s 144 or 145. Room 143 doesn’t exist in this school, got that? Now, turn around and get the hell outta here.” He said. The guy looked at him, amazed. The guy continued to walk, until he was in front of him. Not too close, though. “I’m Daemon Rayle Elric. Nice to meet you, roommate.” The guy offered his hands. ‘Hah… This is going to be hell.’ “I have a name. Kris Ezequiel Villanueva.” He accepted his handshake. They both heard a growl and he flinched. Quickly climbing the double bed and covering himself with a blanket. The guy was left dumbfounded. “W-what was that? D-do you have a d-dog?” He stuttered, his voice shaking, like he was in a verge of tears. Daemon looked up and smiled. It somehow calmed him down, but still his tears fell. ‘Weird,’ he thought. Daemon laughed and scratched the back of his head. “That was my tummy. Got any food?” He shook his head ‘no’. “Then do you have ingredients inside your fridge?” He shook his head again. Daemon sighed. “Come down here. Let’s go eat outside and buy some stock for your fridge.” Daemon gently said. He shook his head, and sobbed. Daemon reached out his hand and he was thinking twice whether to accept it or not. “If you accept my hand, it will mean you trust me. It’s okay if you don’t, I understand.” Daemon explained. Something tickled his heart, making it beat faster than it should be. In the end, he accepted it and went down.

2

I looked at him as we were strolling down the chocolate section. His eyes sparkled and he slightly smiled. ‘Beautiful,’ he said in his mind. We were supposed to be buying healthy foods because when I first saw him, he was so slim and pale. Like he didn’t eat for days. I was brought back to reality when he put 3 boxes of different kinds of chocolate into our cart. I was about to protest when he cut me off. “I’ll pay. That’s mine.” He said. I sighed, and held his wrist pulling him beside me. I saw him look up at me through my peripheral view. I saw him pout his lips when we entered the vegetable section. I bought cabbages, carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, and other things. I also bought some fish, meat and fruits. When we headed back to the room, he walked past me and opened the door because my hands were full of bags.

I opened his fridge and saw nothing but a cup of an unopened instant noodles. “Do you even eat, Kev?” I asked from the kitchen. I saw him sat down with his laptop earlier. “Who the hell is Kev, idiot?!” He shouted back. “I’ll be calling you Kev. Now, do you even eat?” I asked while stomping back to the bed. I saw him with glasses, typing the hell out of the laptop. ‘Cute,’ I shook my head with the thought. “Just breakfast.” He said and pressed his lips into a thin line. I sighed, ‘It’s my first day and I’m so stressed,’ it made me laugh. I went back to the kitchen and cooked soup. I looked at the wall clock hanging in the kitchen. It’s 7:26 in the evening. “Kev! C’mon. Let’s eat.” I called for him. I heard his footsteps and we ate in silence. I broke the silence. “So? What do you want to do next?” I asked him. He looked up while chewing. I laughed at his face and he swallowed. “What? It’s delicious.” He honestly remarked. “Arigato.” I replied. “Are you an otaku?” He asked. “Oh? I am. Don’t tell me you are too?” He nodded and swallowed. He was busy eating. “I neber thouft fyu fstill watcfh animfe! (I never thought you still watch anime!” O…kay. I understood that a bit. “Eat first, let’s talk later.” I chuckled. I sighed, I’m sleepy. I closed my eyes and yawned.

3

In fairness, his cooking is delicious. I didn’t want to eat the cabbage but he said he won’t let me eat my chocolate when I don’t eat my cabbage first. I saw him yawn and I felt a bit guilty about being rude to him. “I’m sorry. You can rest now. I’ll wash the dishes.” I offered. He looked at me and shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll do it.” He smiled. I finished eating and I did what I was told. I waited for him to finish because we decided to watch One Punch Man. I heard about that a lot but didn’t have the time to watch. He was back within 10 minutes, that I incredibly thought the fastest guy in the world. He turned on the air conditioner, sat beside me and shared the blanket with me. We were in episode 9 when I noticed that it’s 3 am already. I looked at my side, where he was sitting, and found him asleep. Heh, weak sauce. I shut the laptop down and fixed his position on the bed. MY bed. I sighed, ‘an otaku never sleeps, baka.’ I looked at his face. His fine features defines perfection in every angle. I climbed up and closed my eyes, slowly drifting to sleep. I woke up because of the smell of… BACON! I immediately ran to the kitchen and found him wearing my grey apron with just boxers on! What the fuck! I turned around, “Put some clothes on, pervert!” I shouted at him. I didn’t hear him laugh. I didn’t expect that. I turned to look at him, and I saw how serious he was. The stove was turned off and there was this deafening silence. He slowly walked towards me, locking his gaze unto mine. I stepped back until my back was pressed against the cold hard wall. He cornered me with his big arms. I can’t help but to gulp and look away. “Are you gay?” A question I wasn’t expecting at all. I thought last night was the start of the friendship I was looking for. But he’s right, there’s no use denying it. His tone was serious, cold, and… I can’t explain it. I looked up, and looking directly into his eyes, “I am.” I bravely and honestly said. I didn’t stutter nor cry. I’m too tired dealing with the people who can’t accept my sexuality. He removed his hands and turned around, not saying anything. “That’s why I told you… Room 143 doesn’t exist. You can tell the principal to switch rooms and we can pretend this didn’t happen. Forget everything I said.” I said, pressing my lips into a thin line. He climbed up to his bed and started packing. I went to the kitchen to drink water. I feel like there’s a lump in my throat, stopping from breathing properly. My hands were shaking, and I felt hot liquids streaming down my face. No, I’m used to it anymore… Stop. Don’t cry! You’ve accepted that a long time ago! Stop… SHATTER! The glass of water shattered into pieces, I picked it up, not caring if I get hurt or not. I wiped my tears, but they fucking keep on falling! “I should’ve been used to it by now…” I whispered to myself. I winced when a shard of glass cut my skin, making it bleed. I felt numb, pathetic. I kept gathering the smallest shards and pieces, until his hand reached my wrist. He opened my palm, that I unconsciously closed, and one by one removed the shards that dug in deep into my flesh. He finished removing them and put it into the bin. I sobbed, feeling the stings, the pain. He held my wrist and made me sit on the bed. He stood up and went to the bathroom, and came back with a kit. He cleansed it and wrapped it with a bandage. The room was so quiet that I can only hear my sobs. He stood up and I heard the clacking of glass. He cleaned it up. I laid down, closing my eyes, drifting to sleep.

4

“I’m sorry…” I whispered to him, wiping a tear that fell. I was shocked and amazed when he bravely said he was gay. I didn’t mean to pack my things, and it didn’t mean that I’ll leave. I wanted to laugh so hard, when I heard the shattering of glass. I hurried down, but heard him say, “I should’ve been used to it by now…” I didn’t say a thing or stopped him picking up the shards, but my heart ached when I saw him clench it with his bare hands. I didn’t mean to hurt him and make him cry. I didn’t mean to break his heart and make him feel the pain again. I just saw the announcement beside him, that there will be a community service. I finished packing my things up and looked at his face. He’s gay but he doesn’t act like one. I want to know more about him. ~ I woke up because of the coldness. “Brrr…” I rubbed my arms and hands together. The room was quiet, and cold. I peeked through the window and saw it was still dark. ‘A swim wouldn’t hurt. Today’s the community service, though. I’ll just hurry.’ I know my eyes are puffy because of last night. I shook my head to dismiss the thought. I hurried down, carrying just a towel because I have extra clothes in my swimming locker. The school’s swimming pool is on the rooftop. It’s open, so I bet its cold. I climbed the stairs and opened the door. The cold wind passed by me, sending shivers to my spine and making all the hair on my body stand up. I headed towards my locker and started to undress, leaving me with my swimming boxers. I went in, wincing at the coldness of the water. I went in until the water reached my chest, and I relaxed my head on the concrete, spreading my arms. I looked up, the moon was still there, the stars too, and it was beautiful. I rinsed off around quarter to 5 and put my clothes back on. I was in the middle of changing when the rinsing room door flew open and I saw Daemon looking at me, intently. His eyes trailed my body and I remembered that I don’t have anything on except my polo and briefs! I hurriedly covered my body but he was quick. He snaked his arms around my waist, and then, everything happened in a blink of an eye, his pink tender lips touched mine. ~ ‘It’s so soft.’ I held his waist and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. 10 minutes earlier “Brrr…” I heard him say. I wanted to get up and say sorry, when I heard the door creaked open. I waited for the door to close, getting up, I went down and followed him. I saw him turn right, and climbed the stairs which I assume the rooftop. I heard the metal door clang, and didn’t hear it shut. I climbed the stairs too and saw him took his clothes off. I can’t help but look at his body. It’s slim, his pale skin is glowing under the moonlight, and the wind ruffling his soft black hair. He went in the pool and I saw him look up, resting his head on the concrete. A few moments later, he went in to the rinsing room to wash off and I felt myself getting hard. Back to Reality “Hmph!” He tried to push me away but I’m stronger than him. He stopped resisting and kissed me back. I held his hands above his head with one hand, and my other hand unbuttoning his polo. His breaths were heavy and hot. My kisses trailed down his neck, which made him threw his head backwards, I sucked and licked his Adam’s apple, which moved up and down. My kisses went down to his chest, and to one of his nipples. Kev gasped, groaned and moaned. I was busy licking his pink nipples, sucking and slightly biting them, making them twitch. I stopped. “What do you want me to do?” I asked him. His mouth was open, and his lips were wet from the kiss we shared earlier. I looked into his eyes, they were ocean blue, and it was glistening because of the water. I let his hands go, and I thought he would punch me and walk out. Instead, he snaked his arms around my nape, and gave me a quick kiss. It shocked me that I didn’t have the time to kiss back. He looked down, but thanks to the sun slowly peeking through the horizon, I saw his ear and his face all flushed. I chuckled. I let him finished changing and I watched him changed, of course. “Let’s go back. Today’s the community service.” I offered my hand, and my heart jumped when he accepted it. We headed back to our room with my hands intertwined with his. He walked first, pulling me with him. He looked back at me, and smiled while blushing. ‘He’s a miracle…’ That’s what I felt. We entered the room and I can’t help but kiss him as soon as the door behind us closed. I pinned him on the door and kissed him. I forced my tongue inside his mouth that made him groan. My hands travelled down his chest, and forming tiny circles on his navel. I felt him tremble at the gesture and pulled away from the kiss. “N-not now…T-the…hngh…community s-service…” He said, panting. Damn, I felt myself tighten inside my jeans. I saw how he flinched and covered his middle part. “I’ll take a bath first.” He quickly said, scurrying to the bathroom, leaving me standing there, turned on.

[Hey, so I’m new here. Just looking for something to write in and share my ideas. I’m open to any ideas, opinions, suggestions and the likes. I know people nowadays hate gays. I mean, they said it’s a sin, well I do too. But sometimes society seems to be too judgmental. I admit, I love gay sex, though I, myself, is just a 14-year old girl, born on June 17, 2004, and my Zodiac sign is Gemini. Geminis are creative, artistic and great at literary works. Anyway, enough with the introduction. I want you, yes you, the one who will be reading this, to give me your best and worst opinion about this story. Don’t worry about my feelings, I want to know what my readers will feel. This story is on-going and I hope you like it! Enjoy! And please correct me if I misspelled or if my grammar is wrong. I’m open to anything. Have a good night/day! God bless!]

[volcanofireflame150]

Flames of the Heart

Story Series; Ch11

Chapter 10

I went to back to the Fire Kingdom with Raven so I could finally tell Chanyeol, Corona, Vernon, Lynn-Rose, Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Woozi on what's going on. Yes Lynn-Rose moved into the Fire Kingdom so she could be closer to Vernon. I'm surprised to see Corona still here but I'm getting distracted, I'm hoping Chanyeol is not mad at me for not telling on where I was going but my business was my own, not anymore since my business is now the 11 kingdoms business, I'm not counting the Flight Kingdom because of that clone of Kris. Once I went into the throne room, guessing that I was right, Chanyeol was angry because he was worried sick on where I was. Chanyeol asked, "Where in blazes were you?" "Watch your tone mister, and don't shame one of my goddesses at me," I shouted, I had enough of his bullshit. Raven was watching this from afar, then I told him, "I was planning on coming back when I was done with whatever was going on in the Flight Kingdom but what I seen you need to calm the hell down and listen before you get hurt." "From who? You? Last time I checked you are nowhere near violent as Lulu," said Chanyeol. My eyes switched to fire red, heat was rising all around me, Chanyeol saw this and surrounded by saying, "Never mind! I give up! I won't say anything to anger you anymore!" "Good because this involves you!" I shouted. Chanyeol, all he said was, "Continue." "When I was in the Flight Kingdom, something was VERY off about Kris," I said, "the room that I went into was located in the same location as the foyer room was." "Okay," said Chanyeol.

Cutting to where we were in the dining room, all of us, minus the fake Kris and Yixing, I continued in there, "That Kris, who is on that throne in the Flight Kingdom, he's nothing but a clone version of the real Kris, there were 6 clones sleeping in capsules, well, as far as I'm aware they are still sleeping." "What do you mean by that?" asked Suho. I answered, "My curiousity got the best of me and I opened all 6 capsules, I was smart enough to knock them and put them back in by putting them where I found them and made sure that they couldn't get by melting the opening to look like the door was jammed." "Wow, that's something that you never do," said Vernon, "Well, you will do everything to protect everyone." "Enough said, we need to inform Yixing about this person who made these clones and possibly captured the real Kris," I said. With all that said and done, we went straight to Yixing's Kingdom which was beautiful on the outside because his kingdom is called the Heart Kingdom, we went inside it was even more beautiful. Then we headed to Yixing's castle, well, I didn't because something caught my attention. I went to whatever it was and it was a cottage, I went towards it then felt the bad vibe coming through here, I heard Chen's voice whisper, "Ember! What are you doing here?" "Don't you feel that?" I asked, "It's coming from here." "That bad vibe is coming from here?" asked Chen, "Let's investigate on whoever is in here so we can show Yixing." I nodded and we went through, what we saw was not what we were expecting at all, then the owner happens to be a thunderbird, she shouted, "Get out!" "Wait, were you the one making those 6 clones in Kris' Kingdom?" I asked, softly. She looked at us in fear, Chen said, "We just want to know, alright? Because we saw plans that were not good." "I didn't mean to make those clones," said the thunderbird, "I just made them to have friends." That broke our hearts, this thunderbird has been alone all of her life, we can't throw her in Yixing's Dungeon, that will only make us feel awful especially for someone like me. I looked at Chen, "What should we do?" "First off, we need you to come with us to the Flight Kingdom," said Chen, "Before we do that, do you know where you hid the real Kris?" "What do you mean? I didn't clone him," she said, "What are you talking about?" "You didn't clone King Chen, Chanyeol, Kai, Baekhyun, Sehun, and Suho?" I asked. She looked at us and said, "Those 6 were taken away from me because they wanted me to be alone forever." "Who wanted you to be alone?" I asked. She answered, "King Yixing's guards, they are heartless and cold." "No wonder everything seems so quiet," I said, "Thank you, Miss?" "My name is Thunder," she said. Chen said, "After all this is over, I'm offering you to move to my kingdom." "Chen's kingdom is called Thunder Kingdom, you will fit right in," I said to her, "C'mon, we'll protect you from those guards." "Well, I will," said Chen. Then we heard Lulu yell our names, Chen said, "That is one good hearing from Queen Lulu." "Indeed," I said. Chen picked up Thunder and he asked, "By the way, how old are you?" "I'm not telling," she said, "It's rude to ask a lady for her age." "That's true but at this point it's needed," I said. Thunder answered, "I'm fully grown yet but I happen to be 15 years old." "Whoa," said Chen. I said, "If I'm not mistaken, when a Thunderbird is 10-15 years old they are considered toddlers. Same thing as us, Phoenixes." "Whoa, so basically both birds are cousins right?" asked Chen. We nodded, Thunder said, "Yep, though we stop aging when we hit a certain age." "I stopped aging at the age of 18," I said. We got to Lulu and the others, everyone had their eyes on Thunder which made her very scared, Chen said, "Easy guys, it's all a big misunderstanding. Thunder, here, only made those 6 is because she wanted friends and they were taken away from her." "Don't say anything negative towards her," I said, in a very menace voice towards Chanyeol. He held up both hands saying that he was not going to bother, Lulu could already tell that Thunder is my cousin, I was walking alongside Chen so he could ask me on what he's curious about Thunderbirds, thankfully he did had a question, so he asked, "How do Thunderbirds, like Thunder, regenerate like Phoenixes?" "Well, they do turn into ash but when a very different way," I said, "Let's say that you have to make sure that you are not in the line fire on when Thunder starts regenerating into a full grown thunderbird." "Like what happens?" he asked again. I answered, "Unlike us, Phoenixes, burning into ashes, Thunderbirds electrocute themselves because they have electricity in their DNA and they have a way to regenerate themselves and that is electrocuting themselves to ash." "That's comforting to know also count that as a gruesome way to go," said Chen, "But, every race is different." "Yep," I said. After a while we reached Yixing's castle, everyone went inside but I stopped Chen who was still holding Thunder to say this, "But unlike a Phoenix, a Thunderbird needs to have people that they love so they CAN regenerate, which explains the 6 doppelgangers that she was trying to make so she can do that." "But since we are here for her maybe she can now," said Chen, "Right?" "No, it has to be at least 6 or more in order for a Thunderbird to regenerate," I said. Chen finished off by saying, "Which explains why she made only 6 doppelgangers, but the question is why only me, Suho, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Kai, and Sehun?" "You guys seem trustworthy for her sake," I said, "I mean you have a very gentle heart when you saw her." "Well, yeah, who wants to be alone for the rest of her life?" asked Chen. Then we found the true culprit when we heard, "Low life that's what." We looked and it was one of Yixing's guards, Chen said, "Low life like you? How dare you making Thunder, here, suffer through so much." "She's not welcomed here," said the guard. I got out my handmade Scythe I was ready to kill this guard, I told Chen to go into Yixing's Castle where the others were. It had to be done, I had to kill the guard because he was insulting me, my kind, and my cousin kind, I was not about to let him keep roaming around letting Thunder live her life in fear. I put my Scythe away, cleaned off the blood and went inside of Yixing's castle, it looks like they were in Yixing's dining room because I can hear Baekhyun's loud voice and I saw the same door in every castle I was in, every castle had the same room near the kitchen, just like Chanyeol's foyer room. I went to the door, I opened it and felt a warm sensation coming through it means for me that someone I know is in here. I went down there and there was the real Kris, he saw me and shouted, "Princess Ember! Quick come here!" I went to him and asked, "Are you alright?" "I'm a little bit scarred but what is important is my kingdom, what happened?" he asked. I answered, "Your clone is the new king I'm afraid." "Get me out of here!" he shouted, "But no rush I do not want the others know on where I am." "I already found the key to your cell," I said, "And the door is already unlocked." "Wow, you are quick, Ember," he complimented. I giggled at his comment, we successfully snuck out of Yixing's Castle and trying to sneak out of the Kingdom, then we were almost spotted by Lulu but thank goodness she looked the other way. We were finally out of the Heart Kingdom and made our way to the Flight Kingdom, thank goodness Kris was back in his original attire when I met him, the guards noticed him and let us in. We went to his castle where the clone was still there, Kris' clone asked, "How hard was it to find him? I was beginning to worry that I wasn't going to see Thunder anymore." "Thunder?" I asked. His clone said, "Yeah, I was made by Ace the Centaur as a gift for Thunder." "What does he call you?" asked the real Kris. The clone said, "He calls me Galaxy." "Ah, well, Galaxy be a very good friend to Thunder," said Kris. I went to where I found the 6 other clones and managed to pry open all 6 apparently I made a mistake thinking of something evil. Kai's doppelganger asked, "Why did you put us back in there?" "I thought that you were made to do evil things," I said, "But you guys were made by Thunder who happens to be my kind's cousin." "We would never betray her trust," said Baekhyun's doppelganger. I led them out and noticed the others were here, Thunder got out of Chen's arms, let me just point out that I was getting very upset faces on everyone but Thunder, Kris, Lulu, and Chen. But anywho, the 7 doppelgangers went to her and we all stood clear because she was about to regenerate and it is sad because these 7 were only made so she can finally get bigger and if she does they go away. I was very sad that if it really happens, King Kris sees this expression and asked, "What's wrong?" "It's just that, these 7 were only made for her to get bigger," I said, "If she does get bigger, they all vanish." "Oh my," said Lulu, "That is terrible." Then she electrocuted herself and I was right the 7 clones were gone because they were in the line of fire, I couldn't but cry when I saw that they were gone. Then the upset faces were now the realization of what happened faces, Chen said, "But Ember, remember that she's moving to my Kingdom." "It's not the same," I said, "They were Thunder's only friends." "Not likely," we heard a majestic voice. We all looked around and we looked at the ashes that were now sparking up, then in a blink of an eye, literally, there was a very beautiful lady standing before us. Chen said for all of us, "Whoa." We all nodded in agreement, Sehun let out, "She's hot." Then Lulu punched him for it, you could hear him groaning on how hard she had hit Sehun. Chen asked, "Is this really you Thunder?" She nodded, "Notice that Ember only has Red, Orange, and Yellow? Well, us Thunderbirds have Green, Blue, and Purple, I happen to be all purple." "Then again both Phoenix and Thunderbird can chose any color but the primary colors of both sides are located on the crests of each bird so you can tell them apart," I said to them.

#exo royalty au #exo royal au #park chanyeol #byun baekhyun #kim jongdae #kim junmyeon #kim minseok #kim jongin #oh sehun #do kyungsoo #yixingzhang #kris wu #luhan #huang zitao #phoenix bird #ember #corona #wonwoo #vernon #woozi #mingyu #dark elf #lulu #highelf #lynn-rose #angels #fluorescence #jeonghan #yami #vav

[kpopmunhaelyeog]

Love in Translation (SuhoxYou) - Part One

Title: Love in Translation Group: EXO Pairing: Suho x You Description: Your first trip to Korea started out as a complete hell until a stranger crossed your path and made it his mission to give you the best experience you’d ever have. Authors note: This is a story that has plagued my mind. It might be a rough start and I hate writing descriptions because I can never get the right summary, kekeke.

Also, yay!! first post!!

The sky had turned dark in a mere blink of an eye as heavy drops poured down. It felt like mere minutes ago that you had been waving a fan around in a desperate attempt to cool down as you had been searching for a bit of shade. But you were glad rain was pouring down on you, it washed away the tears that were streaming from your eyes.

Today had been a hell of a ride - in every negative sense of the word. Since coming to Korea, you had so many things you looked forward to but your expectations and reality couldn’t have been more different. You had always heard that Koreans were polite, helpful, patient and kind especially towards foreigners but so far all the people you had met were rude, impatient and unwilling to help. You had been wandering around Seoul for what felt like hours, lost and without a clue how to get back home. You tried asking people for directions but they were either unable to understand English or unwilling to take their time and explain slowly so you could understand with the minimum knowledge you had of the language. You had been wandering around for so long without a clue that you ended up somewhere near the Han river with both sides looking like a million miles of endless walking without light or guidance, a surefire way to get lost even more.

You glanced down at your throbbing knee, the rain washing away some of the blood that had poured down after taking an unfortunate tumble down some stairs in her lost frenzy back when there were still people remotely around. The pushing as they rushed past you caused you to lose your balance and miss a step, sending you down onto the concrete ground. People stared at you, some slightly shocked while others didn’t even consider hiding their amusement. You could just hear them laughing at you, that stupid foreigner they must have thought. And no one even considered asking if you were alright. The pain of the fall, combined with the embarrassment and the anxiety of being lost and alone in an unfamiliar country that so far failed to live up to your expectations made it hard for you to swallow your tears, you were actually thankful you managed to wander away from the people, though you were still helpless and lost but at least no one was around to laugh at you.

Stumbling to the nearest bench shelter that overlooked the Han river as you plopped down on the bench, you felt the water ooze out of every fiber, your entire body screaming as they started to ache from the cold and the endless moving around. The river reflected the lights of the city in the distance as tiny circles formed whenever the raindrops hit the mirror-like surface. It was so peaceful, so beautiful… The moment of relaxation prompted you to let go of the misery you had been swallowing down and broke down in sad sobs.

Even your phone - normally your trusted sidekick in all of your adventures - had let you down. You had no signal to make calls with to get a taxi, no wifi to use apps or look up directions on how to get to the nearest station. The battery had been running low faster than usual as the attempts you had made to get some information had been eating energy, but halfway down the path near the river, the rain started to pour down and as expected with electric devices the phone decided to shut down. It would be a miracle if it ever turned on again, it probably had a lot of water damage to deal with now.

“God, I am so stupid… ” You muttered to yourself in between cries as you buried your face in your hands. Why did you ever think this was a good idea? Traveling to the other side of the world by yourself without so much as a decent preparation. Your impulsive behavior had often gotten you into to trouble but never into something you couldn’t fix. But this was just a step too far, even for you.

“Gwaenchanh-a?” A somewhat muffled voice spoke up out of nowhere which startled you, your heart making a slight leap as you turned towards the figure that had silently snuck up on you, though probably with the intention of hiding from the rain as well. His hair was hidden beneath a black cap that now had water dripping down from the rim as the lower part of his face was hiding underneath an equally dark and damp face mask. His eyebrows were knitted into a soft frown as he stared down at her.

“A-ah… ” You nodded as a reply, slightly trembling as you wiped away the tears and turned your face away. The last thing you wanted was another stranger laughing at your pitiful appearance right now. You weren’t sure how convincing you sound, at this point you didn’t even care.

“Oh! Dangsin-eun hangug-eoleul hal su issseubnida?” The words sounded like gibberish to you at this point as the stranger was surprised you responded to his question and wondered if you were able to understand and speak Korean.

You turned back to the stranger, opening your mouth to reply but you had no idea what. You barely understood what he said and it only made you feel more helpless. You couldn’t help but shake your head before tears started streaming down your cheeks once more.

“Ah! Aniya!” He seemed to panic at the sight of your tears, shaking his head quickly. “Don’t cry, please!” Taking the hint that you were probably incapable of understanding him, he decided to switch to English in hopes of being able to communicate with you. “What’s wrong?”

Before you could even muster up the energy to stop your crying and answer him, his brown eyes wandered over your appearance, taking in every sight of your softly shaking frame before landing on your knee. Though the rain had washed away some of the blood, it was still clearly a fresh wound.

“You wait here!” He told you with somewhat of a forced tone, taking a few steps back before turning around and disappearing into the rainy darkness.

Suho needed some time to himself. They had been working non-stop since the end of last year and all the stress had started to take his toll on him. Not only did he have his own schedules to worry about, he also worried about his members. Whether they were getting enough rest in between, eating well, not getting hurt. Was the company content with their progress or were they falling behind? Were the fans still proud to be their fans? And then there was the whole ordeal with promoting without one of their members as their only Chinese member had been missing from their latest comeback. Considering their history with losing members due to the company’s treatment towards their former members Kris, Luhan, and Tao which ultimately led to their departure, fans worried that the absence of Lay as he was promoting solo in China would end up the same way. And he felt somewhat responsible for the worry and complaints within their fandom, as the leader he was the voice of the group towards fans and media alike. People looked to him to keep the group together and in line, a heavy burden to carry. So far he had done a good job if he could say so himself. But always being the source of positivity and person to rely on did take its toll and it started to show. Not only did he feel tired mentally, his members had started to notice a change in his behavior. He was more agitated and grumpy than usual which started to worry them - something he hated as well.

Growing up in Seoul, there were many places he used to go to just to find some peace of mind and he had reached a point where he needed to go back and relax for a moment. What better place than the Han river, he thought. The hot sun of the day had long since disappeared and replaced by countless of dark clouds that poured rain everywhere. He loved the sound of rain, it soothed him. Maybe that was part of the reason his image had everything to do with the power of Water, though he felt it was too lame to admit.

He had noticed the frail frame sitting on the bench up ahead, wanting to ignore it and move on to avoid the risk of being recognized, it wasn’t until he heard her soft sobs through the rain that his conscience took over. Suho was a gentle person in general, he had this constant drive to help people and take away their worries which was one of the reasons he was able to lead his members so far. A girl was out in the rain at night, crying softly, he would have never forgiven himself if he ignored it and decided to approach you.

He wasn’t aware you were foreign when he approached you, but your reaction to his innocent question said enough. Lucky for him he had a decent grasp on the English language and hoped it would solve any communication problems you could have. Watching you break down in front of him tugged at his heart, being the gentle spirit that he was. Noticing the wound on your knee, his first thought was the worst scenario. What else would he think of a crying girl with a bleeding limb, after all? He remembered seeing a convenient store a little further back and didn’t hesitate to go out and get something useful.

You stared after him with a look of confusion painting your face. You had no idea who his random stranger was or why he was even trying to communicate with you. He had to be the first person you met so far who was actually patient enough to even pay attention to you, though you had your doubts he was going to be back. Your eyes moved to the dark sky above, it didn’t show signs of clearing up anytime soon either.

But sure enough, minutes later you heard footsteps approaching at rapid speed, the sound of splashing as he moved through some of the puddles that had formed accompanying the pitter patter of the rain. He held a plastic bag in his hand which he placed down on the bench next to you, you followed his actions with curious eyes as he pulled out a package and kneeled down in front of you. Suho had jogged back to the convenience store not too far from here and picked up some band aids, one of which he now carefully placed over the scratch on your knee. You appreciated the gesture though you still didn’t know what you had done to deserve this random act of kindness from a complete stranger. You weren’t even able to take a good look at his face with everything covering his appearance. All you could see were his eyes, but to you, they didn’t seem like the eyes of a bad person. They almost felt familiar.

“Ok!” He nodded to himself, seemingly proud of what he had accomplished. He glanced up at you and caught your eyes which took you by surprise. His eyes closed ever so slightly but you could tell he was offering you a kind smile from underneath his face mask. You quickly glanced away before staring down at your knee, almost feeling touched that he had gone through all that trouble just to get you a band-aid - again you were still strangers to each other.

Suho got up from the ground and ruffled in the plastic bag again, pulling out a foldable umbrella that he opened and raised before holding out his hand. “Come on, we’ll get sick from the rain.”

Your eyes moved away from your knee to his hand before glancing up to meet his eyes again. You hesitated, you knew better than to go along with strangers. Especially at this hour and especially while being somewhere unknown like this. Who was to say this guy didn’t have ulterior motives? He could be an escaped convict for all you know and you were his next prey.

“I won’t bite,” A soft, soothing chuckle escaped his lips as he wiggled his hand slightly in your direction. He was fully aware that the situation might have felt odd, he didn’t blame you for hesitating at all. But he couldn’t help himself wanting to help you out, he had completely forgotten about his own issues for the moment and had instead focused on yours. “Do you like coffee? It will do you some good, I promise.”

You stared at his eyes, searching for some kind of hint of evil intent. But the more you stared at him, the more you started to feel at ease. Like he could be trusted. They say eyes are the window to a person’s soul, don’t they? So that would mean that he was genuinely trying to help you. Biting your lip in slight hesitance, you reached out and placed your hand in his before getting up. He gently pulled you underneath the shelter of the umbrella as he started leading the way.

#kpop scenario #exo scenario #exo story #exo fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop story #exo and you #suho #kim junmyeon #suho and you #suho scenario #kpop scenarios #exo scenarios #suho scenarios #suho story #suho fanfiction #kpop #exo #kim junmyeon story #kim junmyeon scenario #kim junmyeon scenarios #kim junmyeon and you #suho and oc #suho x oc

[funface2]

Graham Norton reveals some A-list actors are ‘annoying’ and complain his show isn’t funny, but he loved Mark W – The Sun

CHAT show king Graham Norton is the go-to guy for Hollywood stars eager to plug their latest movie in the UK.

But keeping company with Tinsel Town’s beautiful people isn’t all its cracked up to be, according to the man himself.

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Graham Norton reveals some of his A-list guests can be ‘dull’Credit: WARNING: Use of this image is subject to the terms of use of BBC Pictures’ Digital Picture

Indeed, in one of his most candid interviews yet, the Irish presenter claims some A-listers are “annoying” and complain his show isn’t funny when they’re the fun sponge.

Speaking in one of a series interviews in the US to promote his novel A Keeper, he says: “There’s the guest sitting on the couch thinking, ‘But I love this show. Tonight just, I don’t know, it’s just not that good tonight,’ and you’re like, ‘Because you’re on it. Because you’re here. You’re ruining it’.

“It happens quite often where people are like, ‘Normally this show is so fun,’ and I was like, ‘Yeah, but you’re here. You carry this with you. You kill every room you enter.’”

It’s the fear of a glum A-lister which prompted the regular booking of a comedian, usually British, sitting at the end of the sofa to come to the rescue if his star name is bringing nothing to the table.

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Mark Wahlberg appeared to fall asleep on Graham Norton’s couch in 2012Credit: WENN

Graham adds: “That is the joy, because if I’m getting nothing, if that is a bloodless stone then you turn to someone else, or I might be lucky to have a comic at the end.

“They can do 20 minutes, so off they go. And actually sometimes, it’s as illuminating to see a really kind of stern actor who is not really good at telling their stories to see what makes them laugh, to see the comic is really tickling them.

“That’s, in a way, more revealing than the answer to any question I could ask them.”

He says he appreciated the comedic distraction when action star Mark Wahlberg appeared and fell asleep on his couch.

‘I’M SO UNFRIENDLY MY FACE IS LIKE THUNDER’

He explains: “If they’re disruptive then that is a bore and annoying. Like Mark Wahlberg, I think Mark got a bit confused about the jet lag and wine.

“He fell asleep — that was the good bit. When he fell asleep, that was like we were able to tell stories. The show’s going a bit better now, I wonder why? Oh, he’s asleep.

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‘At one stage Mark Wahlberg climbed on my lap and was pinching my nipples. . . I was like ‘get off me’’, Graham opens upCredit: WENN

“And at one stage, he climbed on my lap and was like pinching my nipples, and I remember afterwards thinking, ‘wow, my 20-year-old self, my head would have exploded if someone would tell me he would do that’, but my 50-year-old self was just like, ‘Get off me.’”

Graham, 56, has been hosting his chat show on BBC1 for a decade and enjoyed huge success, which is why he is one of the Beeb’s highest earners, pulling in more than £600,000 a year.

He’s graduated from stand-up comedian, to comedy actor to presenter of cult Channel 4 chat show — So Graham Norton — to become the daddy of Saturday night TV on the Beeb.

But he admits away from the cameras he’s nothing like the bubbly character you see laughing with alongside the celebs on telly – especially when he’s walking his dogs near his London home. He explains: “I’m so unfriendly. My face is like thunder. So I’m out with the dogs and I try to give off the vibe that I’ve just received terrible news, or a member of my family has just died, so best not to talk to me.

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The chat show host says: ‘Occasionally you get a guest who doesn’t care if someone likes them. . . like Lord Sugar. I really like him for that’Credit: PA:Press Association

“And also, I’ve got a really vicious dog. I mean I didn’t choose that, she’s a rescue dog and it turns out she is my spirit animal and she hates everyone.”

But despite his moody exterior, A-listers continue to flock to his red sofa. This year alone Graham has hosted Hollywood royalty including Charlize Theron, Keanu Reeves, Chris Hemsworth, Madonna, Tom Hanks and Gwyneth Paltrow. Yet no matter how many awards they’ve won or box office records broken, the Irishman has little time for any actor who suffers from nerves.

Graham says: “I find actors being nervous so annoying. Like you know that thing: ‘Oh, I was so nervous, I was vomiting in the wings. I needed a bucket in the wings before I could go on stage. I was so nervous.’ You’re in the wrong job! If a bus driver is afraid of his bus, get a new job. Just don’t do that. So I have no patience for actors being nervous. I just think, ‘Oh shut up. Okay, don’t go on. See if I care. We’ll all go home.’ Nerves annoy me.”

And worse still, he gets infuriated by big names who cannot even pretend or act like they’re having fun. He says: “They’re an actor. Now some of them can’t (act). Some of them it’s not in their wheelhouse. They’re good at learning words and saying them aloud.

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Graham reveals: ‘Will Smith produced the Fresh Prince segment. . . he flew in Carlton, got the DJ, he did it all. He was amazing’Credit: PA:Press Association

“And it is terrible, because sometimes you’re thinking I’ve got quite a funny story about that, but I can’t tell it, because it’s supposed to be about the stupid guest.”

He does have some favourites, however. Graham cites George Clooney and Bill Murray as his “biggest gets” because they’re both so hard to book.

Tom Cruise was a hit because of his impeccable manners and warmth backstage, he loved Madonna for “just being Madonna” and enjoys Russell Crowe’s appearances, suggesting he “only comes on the show so he can flip the chair”, in a nod to his Red Chair segment in which an audience member tells an intimate anecdote.

And he highlights Will Smith’s rendition of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme, along with former co-star Alfonso Ribeiro who played Carlton Banks and pal DJ Jazzy Jeff, as one of the stand-out moments in his show’s history – made more special by the fact he “didn’t have to do a thing”.

‘I LIKE LORD SUGAR’

Graham explains: “Will Smith produced that whole segment. He flew in Carlton, he got the DJ, he did it all, so it was an amazing moment.

“And to see an audience that happy over a sustained period of time, it was like a drug. It was like Oprah giving away a car to everybody. It was that atmospheric.”

Yet his all-time favourite isn’t an Oscar-winning star or legendary music act – he’s a grumpy billionaire business mogul whose catchphrase is “you’re fired”.

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‘When I’m out with the dogs I try to give off a vibe that I’ve just received terrible news . . . so best not to talk to me’, the TV favourite saysCredit: Louis Hollingsbee – The Sun

He says: “I think with most people in this industry, the ‘wanting to be liked’ gene is quite strong in them, so they’ll just fake it.

“Occasionally, I’ll get a guest who doesn’t have that gene.

“They don’t care, but it’s so unusual it takes your breath away. Oh wow, you really don’t care, and I quite like it, like Lord Alan Sugar. I really like him — he’s really funny and great.”

Graham reveals there are a few star names who’ve yet to appear on his show he’d like to interview, namely Julia Roberts, plus Prince Harry and Meghan. He says: “If I was looking after Harry and Meghan right now, I’d say, ‘Do that.’”

The former Father Ted star says one of the secrets behind his success is he knows he’s not at the top of the pecking order — despite the fact his name is in the title.

He sees himself as the “comedy butler”, which he’s fine with, but he believes British chat show rivals who’ve failed to match his longevity may have struggled to deal with not playing top dog on their own show.

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Graham first found fame on comedy show Father Ted in the ’90s

KRIS & TELL

Kris Boyson hints he and Katie Price are back ON as he breaks silence on split

‘SHE CAN SAY WHATEVER’

Love Island’s Greg insists ‘he knows the truth’ about Amber split

Exclusive

UP THE DUFF DUFF

Ex-EastEnders star Melissa Suffield is pregnant with her first baby

WREATH GRIEF

Corrie’s Katie McGlynn had a Sinead wreath at her star-studded leaving do

mysterious girls

Peter Andre shares rare pic of daughter Amelia as big sister does her hair

Discussing why there are less chat shows in the UK compared to across the pond, Graham says: “A lot of British comics in particular think they want to do a talk show.

“They think, ‘I’m going to like this,’ and in fact they don’t, because they get confused, because their name is in the title of the show and because you walk out and everyone is clapping and it’s great, it’s all about me, look at you, you love me, I’m the big man, and the minute you get the guest out, it’s not about you.

“You’re low status and I think that doesn’t suit a lot of people, particularly a lot of performers, because they were bred for stardom, not to be some sort of comedy butler handing people feed lines.”

Fame got me the book deals, sorry

GRAHAM Norton apologised to jobbing writers for landing a book deal thanks to his FAME.

He published second novel A Keeper last year, having seen his debut Holding become a Sunday Times bestseller.

The tome is “a twisted tale of secrets and ill-fated loves” set in Ireland. The presenter says he “always wanted to write” but finally did it after turning 50. He adds: “I thought, ‘Stop talking about this book. Write one.’

“So I got myself a book deal. To any authors out there, I’m sorry. It is awful that a bloke off the television can just go, ‘Hi, I’d really like to write a novel,’ and they let me.”

Graham says it feels “gratifying” his books are being talked about in the US where he has little profile. He adds: “If you have watched my show, or know anything about me, the books aren’t what you expect.

“They’re not funny, they’re not set in media, they’re not in London, none of those things. They’re sort of romantic, but kind of darkly romantic.”

A Keeper is out now, published by Coronet.

Madonna was ‘rude’ and ‘vain’ in Graham Norton interview

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Bài viết Graham Norton reveals some A-list actors are ‘annoying’ and complain his show isn’t funny, but he loved Mark W – The Sun đã xuất hiện đầu tiên vào ngày Funface.

from Funface https://funface.net/funny-news/graham-norton-reveals-some-a-list-actors-are-annoying-and-complain-his-show-isnt-funny-but-he-loved-mark-w-the-sun/

[bentchcreates]

Behold one of the most anticipated #romanceclass releases this year! The first installment to the #romanceclassFlair line featuring Filipino romance in English with  🔥 🔥 🔥!

Here’s the cover:

Gorgeous, right? heehee

Photography: Chi Yu Rodriguez Cover Design: Miles Tan Models: Bibo Reyes & Celine Bengzon

If the photos and synopsis aren’t enough for you to buy the book here: https://www.amazon.com/You-Out-Nowhere-Flair-1-ebook/dp/B076YQ241K , here’s an excerpt that’ll make it impossible for you to pass up! ;)

Trainman

November 11, Friday Kris He was reading Pride and Prejudice. What guy does that? And in public too, inside a packed metro rail train South-bound on a Friday night. I lucked on a seat by some karmic miracle, though standing squished among the mass of passengers seemed like the better idea than what I had now, my wide-ass hips crushed between the hard plastic seat’s edge and the woman beside me. I hated commuting. I hated trains. I hated the co-ed cars of the train the most, especially during rush hour. And rush hour these days was taking on that distinctive stench of holiday panic, as it usually did in the middle of November in this Christmas-loving country. I had come from Quezon City and had to jump into the first train car that could fit me, running late as I was for this obligation all the way in Makati. Obligation. Okay. Heh. My best friend Daisy would kill me if she heard my brain, after all the things she had done for me these past few years, air quotes, air quotes. I looked up from my phone again, straining a look at the guy standing in front of me. He was gripping the steel railing above his head like a lifeline, which did me the favor of seeing his flexed biceps. He had a lean arm, decorated by faint lines of snaking veins, muscular in a way that was not at all rude. It wasn’t hard to notice its very pleasing personality, swathed though it was by the sleeves of his striped black-and-white button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows (thank you, god), in crisp, deliberate folds rising past toned forearms. I always thought that wardrobe move was both rugged and responsible. I inched my gaze up his exposed skin, searching for tattoos. No trace of ink thus far. A bit disappointing. My eyes travelled back down to his book. His edition was small, thick, and pink. Dog-eared and covered in plastic, the way one does to school books to make them last the year. I dared look up as far as his nose, noting the tiny bump along the steepest part of the straight bone. I counted the lines marring his forehead as he kept it scrunched, taking care to miss his eyes should he look up from the pages, and decided he couldn’t be reading this romance classic for school. Not even for college literature class. With his pressed shirt, nice watch, and tapered charcoal slacks, he looked like a corporate boy. A young, well-dressed one at that. Early twenties, easy. I’d learned from a string of stiff, boring dates that I didn’t like corporate boys much. Nor had I ever been inclined to go through the fun yet rickety ride of dating younger. Those two things at least kept me from crushing too hard on this hot stranger and his intense occupation with only one of the best love stories ever known to womankind. “I am very fond of walking.” “Sorry?” Shit. Did I say that out loud? I flicked my gaze up and got my answer. Corporate Boy was staring back at me, eyebrows lifted, mouth threatening the smile that was already crinkling his eyes. Yes, I said that out loud. And yes, okay, now I knew he had kind biceps and a beautiful face. Man, this was painful. I cleared my throat and tried a smile instead of pretending I hadn’t heard him, since I was a grown up like that. “I was trying to remember if that was only a line from the movie or if it’s also in the book.” “Oh. I think it’s just from the movie.” His brow wrinkled some more. His forehead looked like a map of waves now. “I should know that, the many times I have read this.” “Your favorite book?” He pursed his lips, blinked a few times, and turned to me again. Plump, just-bitten lips. Deep, dark eyes. A feathery fringe of lashes. Why so pretty, mister stranger? “You do not know me so you can’t judge me,” his baritone voice drawled. “So I’m going to be honest and say it’s high up there.” “Okay.” “My ready answer is that I’m reading it to help my sister write her book report, and that’s also true.” No, my goodness. Stop it. Shut up. “Do you like it too?” He didn’t seem to have noticed I was having mild palpitations over here, thanks to the hot-guy-who-reads-and-dotes-on-sister fantasy reel he’d conjured in my head. I tucked a stray curl away from my cheek, pinched the inside of my wrist and forced my mouth to make words. “Oh, I’m in love with Mr. Darcy. My friend says half my dates didn’t work out because I was expecting them to be brooding yet sensitive and to own both a heart of gold and half of Derbyshire. Or you know, Derbyshire’s contemporary equivalent in the Philippines.” Wonderful. I was now babbling to a beautiful stranger on the train about my book boyfriend and my complete inability to keep a real one. Daisy would sock her fist inside my mouth and store it there for safekeeping if she knew. He didn’t laugh, or worm through the sweaty, sticky, after-office train crowd to get as far away as possible from me, Weirdo Train Lady. The smile settled in his eyes, rumpling the corners. “That’s too bad,” he said, and nothing else. He went back to reading. I wanted to demand what that meant. Too bad, what, sir? He’s a stranger he’s a stranger he’s a stranger. I had to force a chorus of those words to drill the reminder in my head. Why should I care what this guy thought about my love life? Too many people I knew already had loud, decisive opinions about it anyway. No need to add another critic. I turned my glare to my phone as it lit up with Daisy’s text. You better be walking up the mall already. I could hear every note of aggression in each perfectly spelled word. She was antsy and nervous, more so that I could psyche myself out to be, since I had categorized this night’s activity as yes, an obligation. She was my best friend and she cared a bit too much about me. I was doomed to love her for it. Do I lie? My thumbs hovered over the screen, preparing to type a reply. I was two stations and a 20-minute walk away from where she wanted me to be. The only difference between telling the truth and telling her what she wanted to hear was that if I gave her the latter, she’d be all the less anxious. I should be a good friend and do what good friends do. The train ground to a halt, sending my left side crashing against the steel railing as the woman beside me hoisted herself up and barreled through the crowd to the opening door. My phone dropped to my lap as I focused on breathing through what felt like three broken ribs, and on swallowing the little oaths lined up in my throat, itching for release. Another jolt, a swoosh of fine fabric and warm skin beside me, and the train was rumbling away again. “You should breathe.” I did—a long pull of musty, sweat-drenched air—before turning to Corporate Boy who was now settled to my right. “Thanks. I forget sometimes.” The smile inched up his mouth this time. And he really shouldn’t have done that, because now I knew his mouth was beautiful too. “I haven’t been on a date for going on a year.” The words came out of his lips sounding rehearsed, as if he’d spent the past few minutes assembling them in his head. “Too bad?” I dared, eyebrow hitching. “There you go.” He laughed, short and quiet. I barely heard the sound. “Now we’re even and I can go back to reading with a clear conscience.” He didn’t though. His book was folded inside his palm and he was looking straight ahead. It couldn’t be a good view. A man was standing in front of him, hands gripping and body hanging from the handrails, looming over him like a grimy shadow. “How many more stations for you?” He turned to me. He seemed to have made the decision that my face was a better sight than the man’s sweat-stained Keep Calm and Eat Bacon t-shirt. The train was crawling into Buendia station. I expected the lurching stop this time. I gripped the metal bar beside me for leverage. “Getting off on the next. You?” “Same.” He breathed in once. Again. He was sitting so close I could feel it brush my ear, could feel it send static through my unruly locks. I could swear I caught him staring at my long, curly hair as strands lifted with his breaths, as if he wanted to sweep them away. I know, I know, it’s a mess. But grooming beyond the basic social requirement is pointless in commute hell. His gaze dropped back to his book as his fingers pried the worn pages open. Huh. I expected more words. Just as well. My mother always said not to talk to strangers. She might have mentioned a special clause for the hot ones who read romantic books and weren’t ashamed of it. Those rare ones were sure to be serial killers. Sometimes I wish I could strangle the voice of my mother that lurked within the recesses of my head. The many rules and don’ts she’d planted in me. I was in my thirties and still they were there, stamped where I couldn’t wash them off with beers or bury under hours spent out beyond midnight. I shouldn’t be blaming Mr. Darcy. I should be blaming her for my present disinterest in committing to a man. You love your mother you love your mother you love your mother. I was humming the words, making myself spurt out laughter. After forbidding me to have a boyfriend all through my school years, my mother was now all out with Daisy on fixing this aspect of my life. Fixing, they dared call it. As if I had a leaking pipe. As if crossing over to thirty flipped a button that made a dashing man and a marriage pour out from heaven. Never mind that I had a business I loved and friends who got me. Oh no, it wasn’t enough, because my mother needed grandchildren. I made the mistake of turning to my right, because Corporate Boy was staring at me, eyebrows raised. “What?” I demanded. “Never seen a woman laugh to herself before?” He seemed surprised, but also ready to answer. But the train made another awful stagger, screeching to a full stop. I craned my neck to look out the grubby window, as the voice crackling through the speakers confirmed my worst fears. “The train ahead of us is having technical difficulties. We will wait here until it can depart from Ayala station. Please remain seated. Good evening and apologies to all.” “Who the fuck is seated?” someone yelled out from the mass of bodies. “You tell them, sir,” Corporate Boy cheered. “Right on,” I seconded the motion. Corporate Boy and I settled deeper into our hard plastic seats. A moment later he was sighing out a gust of wind. “I’m in so much trouble.” “Yeah?” My phone lit up again. I didn’t dare read it. “Big date? Shit, sorry. That was prying.” “It’s okay. I also suck at small talk.” “Hey!” He laughed. This time I heard it, deep and bright and full to bursting. I felt it shake inside his chest, his arm sharing the tremors with mine. “Yes, it’s a date, and a setup too,” he said. “Looks like my awful streak is a solid one.” “Don’t worry. One look at you and she’ll be a puddle on the floor.” Okay, I just told him I thought he was hot. The trick to fix such a mistake, I’d learned, was to keep my eyes averted until I could mumble out better, less embarrassing words. “I mean, it looks like you made the effort. That’s a nice shirt.” He was smiling. I heard it. “I like your shirt too.” “You know them?” I brushed my hair away and looked down at the shirt in question. I was wearing the name of a recent favorite local band. Excitement washed over my shame and I tipped my head to look at him. “They’re not very mainstream, but they have an old school sound that I miss with all of these EDM hits ruining the world.” As if the train driver were my personal fairy, the speakers started booming out a stale Chainsmokers song. “Like this piece of catchy shit.” I started singing out the words, just to get it out of my brain before it embedded itself into a week-long Last Song Syndrome. “Are you going to a gig?” It was my turn to laugh. A gig, a blind date. What was the difference anyway? I could very well be an old, jaded vocalist, fed up with the same old music playing, with how each night would end with me exhausted and unsatisfied and leaving the bar alone. I should try this analogy with both Daisy and my mother after tonight. “Sure. It’s my final gig, at least for a while. Because I’m so tired of these things not working out.” “Is it a sound system problem, or a crowd control situation—?” “It’s a me problem. I suck at gigs.” His gaze found my mouth and my blood rushed to the space under the skin of my cheeks. He caught my gaze. His eyes weren’t black as I first thought, but a deep, rich brown. I saw alarm flit there for a second. One blink and it was gone. I took that as my turn to steer this small talk at which we both suck. “So, who’s the monster that set you up?” “My boss.” He chuckled at the sympathetic gaze I fixed him. “She has her rare, more, er, charitable moments. I’m trying to not feel too weird about it. I guess she took pity on me.” “Have you been very pitiful lately?” “I guess. I’ve been drinking a lot the past few months, I am nearly incapable of getting drunk now.” I let out a short whistle. “Congrats. Your liver is now steel on the outside, rotting on the inside.” “I’ve stopped, okay.” He looked part amused, part worried. Part proud. “I am too young to die. All my hopes and dreams can’t go to waste.” What a serious man he was. “Sounds like you have plenty.” He shrugged, massive shoulders lifting. His shadow loomed over me when he was standing, and beside me now, he had to dip his chin a few inches so he could catch my eyes. For someone talking to a stranger, he sure made a habit of maintaining eye contact. “I hope this girl I’m meeting tonight is nice,” his voice rumbled. “Because I really want to get married someday.” “First date and you’re thinking about marriage?” My voice might have risen to a squeak a little bit. “I’m going in with a goal in mind,” he said, sharp jaw set. “How old are you?” I surprised myself at daring to ask him his age. I didn’t think I’d get a reply. “Twenty-four, turning twenty-five.” Ah, the quarter-life crisis. My ex-boyfriend Adam and I used to talk about getting married at 25. The age passed us and we didn’t, because we both realized we were still kids hitting wall after wall with our inflated little heads, confident and ambitious but naïve with no idea what we really wanted. Three years past that age, he dumped me. A year later, he married someone else. I guess he figured out his life then. “That’s not too young to get married.” Corporate Boy seemed to have read my silence as judgment. That was partly true, fine, I admit it. Beyond that I was puzzled. And curious. “I hope you’re not measuring yourself against Lizzie Bennet,” I quipped, keeping a straight face. “At least look to Mr. Darcy. He was older.” “I am capable of heading a household.” His tone was flat but he didn’t sound annoyed. “Sure you are. Everything about you reeks of stable income and a complete roster of fancy benefits. I just pity the girl you’re meeting tonight. What if she just wants to fool around, you know? Toe you under the table. Make out with you in the car. That kind of a simple life.” I’d turned away but I swear I could feel his eyes on my mouth again. It must be a new superpower. I hoped my lipstick was as matte and long-wearing as the tube promised. “My boss knows where I am. She said she found me the perfect girl.” I scowled. “There is no such girl.” “Okay, okay, you’re right, I take it back,” he said, palms up. He ran one hand down his face, as if he felt worn out. “I meant a girl who might want something lasting too, instead of just footsies and kissing. Though I’m not against any of that.” “Why would you be?” I wished the train would leave now, because I treasured Daisy and I really didn’t want her to end up in prison for strangling me for being so late. Also because I knew if we stayed still like this any longer, Corporate Boy would start asking me questions. Surely he’d retaliate for my terrible small talk. I also wished the train would stall for a few minutes longer. Because Corporate Boy was gorgeous and his shirt felt good against my bare arm, and it had been a while since I’d wanted to figure out the spaces between a man’s words the way I did with his. I blamed it on his friendship with Mr. Darcy.

You Out of Nowhere (Flair #1) by Jay E. Tria, 2017

#romanceclass

#romanceclass #bookish #bentchcreates #blogtour

[luninosity]

A Demon for Midwinter, One Last Bit of that Screenplay Version, Here You Go, Part Six and Final:

INT. KRIS’S APARTMENT – STILL EARLY EVENING

 The door opens and Kris steps wearily in. It’s fancy. Expensive. The penthouse level. Glorious city views. In-demand high-rise building. High-end appliances and designer furniture. Clean lines and open space. It’s also half-heartedly lived in. Kris hasn’t cared much about, well, much.

 His guitars—the three he’s kept, classics—sit in a corner. Gathering dust.

 He hasn’t decorated, but he does tend to shed jackets, scarves, jewelry, whiskey glasses, etc, while wandering around. He does use the bottles of scotch and the teakettle. Often.

 He tosses his jacket at a chair. It lands. He stares at it blankly for a minute, and wanders to the kitchen. Scotch. Decently heavy pour.

 Glass in hand, he drifts over to the big picture window. Everything’s distant, far-off, life he’s not really part of. The penthouse is silent. He touches fingers to the windowpane, to the dark beyond.

 Memories run up out of the past. We see them in glimpses, in reflections, in amber-tinted fleeting scenes.

 Fame. Extravagance. A name in lights, a mark on the world. All three of them, as young and wild as comets, back then. Like the dazzle of the city, coming on in the backdrop of his penthouse windows. Applause roars at him before disappearing into ghosts: crowds and screams and heat, festivals and theatres and pyrotechnics dwindling to ash.

 We catch a few specific golden moments. Kris and his bass player laughing and falling into each other’s laps on a tour bus. Fingers strumming a guitar, tripping over notes, stopping to make a joke, starting again, light and easy and carefree. Hair and make-up and fabulous costumes and screaming sold-out shows. Their drummer, poor doomed Tommy, the other boy from the photograph, clearly high and drunk and happy and heedless of dangers. A funeral. Kris and Reggie—the bass player—in all black and looking very young and shocked: they’re mortal after all.

 Arguments over the band. Arguments over never settling on a good permanent replacement drummer. We never really catch specific words; it doesn’t matter. They get older, in memory. A headline suggests that Starrlight might split up, that Reginald Jones wants to quit. Memory-Kris puts a hand on Reggie’s arm, in a rehearsal space. We can feel the thrum of power, though we can’t quite see it. The next headline says that the break-up rumors aren’t true. The year after that, album and tour finished, Reggie quits for good.

 We watch memory-Kris lift a hand. Reggie stops. Says, and we hear this part clearly, don’t you dare. Not again. You never get to do that to me again.

 Kris drops the hand. Lets him leave.

 In the present, Kris shuts his eyes. Opens them. Gulps scotch. Collapses onto his sofa in the manner of someone out of energy, out of hope, avoiding the gazes of his guitars.

 He’s lying on his phone. It’s under his hip and uncomfortable. He takes it out. Looks at it.

 His fingers hover. They want to call Justin. He nearly does. Number on the screen.

 He puts down the phone.

 He stays put on the sofa, staring at nothing in particular, for a while.

 He nearly calls Justin again. This time he only looks at the name for a minute.

 KRIS

(to the phone)

I’m sorry.

 The phone, not surprisingly, says nothing.

 KRIS

I didn’t mean to—

 He didn’t. He’s afraid of what he might’ve done. He wants and doesn’t want to know. And he has questions.

 Kris

I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wouldn’t—ah, fuck. I would, wouldn’t I? We both know I have.

 The phone, not being Justin, can only listen sympathetically. Kris finishes off the scotch, gets up, brings back the whole bottle this time, tries to explain to the inanimate audience.

 KRIS

The chestnut thing. My scarf. Tea. You think I don’t notice but I do. How do you—? And you talk to my dad, and fuck knows I can’t even talk to my dad, so I don’t know how you—I don’t know how you do any of it. Me. This. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking useless has-been and I love you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I gave you a headache earlier too. Did I? You didn’t seem—but that should’ve—I’m strong enough to—

 More scotch.

 KRIS

Maybe I’m too fucking old. Maybe you didn’t even feel it. Maybe you’re magical and special and—and resistant or something, that’s a myth, right, some kind of wild talent? Nobody is. But you would be. Because you’re bloody perfect. So you would be. Special. And I hurt you.

 He touches his phone. It’s not Justin.

 KRIS

(quietly, one more time)

I’m sorry.

 A minute or two and more scotch later, he does pick up the phone. He’s not calling Justin.

 REGGIE (V.O.)

(older than the memory-version, slightly out of breath, having run over and grabbed the phone up a few rings in)

Hey, mate, I was in the tasting room, what’s up?

 If we see his side of the call—and we may not, if we don’t need to—it’s a glowing contrast: California, a few hours earlier because of time zones, golden and rolling. Vineyards in the distance. Light and airy and open. He’s doing well, both professionally and personally. He looks good, a contented relaxed middle-aged guy who rather to his own surprise loves being a father and settled down. He does still have the tattoos up both arms and long hair, probably tied back now, and he’s still the kid who’d once worn glittery eyeshadow and gone by Reggie Rocket on stage, and the past is the past. And he still knows Kris better than anyone else. The good and the bad.

 KRIS

(a proclamation of despair)

I think I’m in love with my manager.

 REGGIE

Really? Blond and pretty? Boy or girl? And did the love part happen before or after you hopped into bed together?

 KRIS

Come on, that’s unfair.

 REGGIE

It’s a serious question.

 KRIS

He dyes it different colors, and no I haven’t shagged him, thanks for the faith in me. Also he hates me now.

 REGGIE

Must be some kind of record. Most of us hate you two minutes in.

 Kris makes a very rude, very British gesture at the phone.

 KRIS

Up yours, Reg. I need advice.

 REGGIE

I’m not sure what I’m giving you advice about. Do you want to shag him? Do you want to apologize to him? Do you want an expensive bottle to send him when you beg for forgiveness? Or do you just want to get drunk and complain?

 KRIS

He’s bloody twenty-eight years old—

 REGGIE

Ah, an infant.

 KRIS

—and happy and patient and brilliant and nice to everyone and I want to touch his hair. I want him to stay happy always.

 REGGIE

(amused but also happy about this)

Great woodland gods, you are in love with him.

 KRIS

And he’s pissed at me.

 REGGIE

What’d you do?

 This is a question with layers. They both know exactly what Kris once did to Reggie himself—that implanted emotion, that push to finish out the tour and not leave—but, again: the past is the past. Reggie’s forgiven if not forgotten. Kris has not exactly forgiven himself. They know that too.

 REGGIE

(cont.)

I’m assuming it was your fault.

 KRIS

Oh, it was all my fucking fault. I’m a complete bastard and I told him he didn’t actually mean it when he said he was my friend and then I told him to go home and leave me alone.

 REGGIE

(most likely someplace on a balcony, in lingering California sunshine, leaning on elbows, taking this in)

Not only a bastard, a patronizing bastard. That’s a shit thing to say to someone who still puts up with you, y’know. Poor kid.

 KRIS

Gods, you’re making it worse. He’s not a kid. I’m not his fuckin’ dad.

 REGGIE

You wouldn’t mind being his daddy. Look, you’re just gonna have to apologize, mate. Surprised he didn’t haul off and punch you one. I would’ve. If you’d sent me home.

 KRIS

(sitting up more, restless)

No, that’s the other fuckin’…weird…thing. Also never say that again, the first bit, fuck no. But I didn’t. Send him home.

 REGGIE

(carefully)

You said you told him to go, and you know you can…push people, if you’re upset…

 KRIS

Yeah, I know—shit, I’m sorry again, you know I’m—but I didn’t. I know I didn’t. I might’ve, but I didn’t.

 REGGIE

What?

 Kris grits teeth. Explanations. They’re excruciating. Especially with the weight of history surrounding them.

 KRIS

He didn’t just accept it and do what I said. Even if I did push him, I don’t think I did, but even if I did it didn’t take. He left, but because he wanted to. I’m sure.

 REGGIE

He didn’t just—

 KRIS

Start walking away and shake it off and decide to keep going? No. He wasn’t even mad at me—well, no, he was, he is, but not like I was. Not the same mood.

 REGGIE

That shouldn’t be possible. Not as strong as you are. ’S why we always had such good live shows. Maybe you’re getting old.

 This is unhelpful.

 KRIS

Thanks for that. How’s Holly?

 REGGIE

(delighted to be asked about his wife; thoroughly in love)

Splendid and smarter than I am, as usual. You coming over for Midwinter? We’ve got five out of seven collective offspring plus eleven million grandbabies running around, but we can make room. Bring your impossible kid, I’m curious.

 KRIS

He’s not my—that sounds even worse. You’ve made it worse. He’s my manager. He was sort of my friend.

 REGGIE

And you love him.

 KRIS

And I think I might maybe possibly be in love with him, yes.

 REGGIE

Then you need to apologize. I know you can. I believe in you. Call the kid. Tell me what happens. I need the details.

 KRIS

Go make grapes into juice with your bare feet or whatever it is you do. Leave Justin alone. I can’t call him.

 REGGIE

Philistine. See if I ever send you foot juice again. Also, his name’s Justin? And why not?

 KRIS

He’s working and I’m already drunk enough to call you.

 REGGIE

Fair point. Call him in the morning.

 KRIS

(conceding this, exhausted, starting to get a headache)

Maybe. I don’t know.

 Beyond his window, Midwinter decorations twinkle in green and gold, out in the city, separated from him by a pane of penthouse glass. Views of the world from above.

 REGGIE

(being gentle)

Kris. You don’t deserve to be alone. You know that, right?

 KRIS

I didn’t call you to be my fucking therapist, Reg.

 REGGIE

You called me for advice. Which you’re getting. Because some of us care about you. Even when you’re a complete and utter twat. Now put down the scotch, eat something, and call your cute little mysterious Justin in the morning and say sorry like a decent human being. He’ll forgive you.

 KRIS

(hopeful, a little drunk, clinging to this)

How do you know?

 REGGIE

Because I did. And you said he’s a good kid. Your friend.

 Kris doesn’t quite know what to say to this. Any part of it. He wants it all to be true, and can’t quite bring himself to believe it could be.

 REGGIE

(as someone calls his name, and child-related noises happen off-screen)

Ah, grandkids, got to run—let us know about Midwinter—

 KRIS

Yeah, of course, sure, I’ll give you a call—

 And they’re off the phone. He gazes at it for a minute. He gets up, pacing aimlessly. Ends up in the kitchen. Opens the refrigerator, gazes into it, skims over milk and eggs and not a whole lot else, not seeing any of it.

 He looks at the next unopened bottle of good scotch. He looks at his phone again.

 He finds coffee in a cupboard. He has some for guests, not that he has guests. In any case it’s here. And he’s thinking about Justin. He pokes at the mysteries of his expensive coffee-maker. It barely gets used.

 He considers the outcome. Pours scotch into it.

 Back on the sofa. A little cold. Hugging knees to his chest. Oddly younger, for a moment: alone and not wanting to be, a boy who got to be famous at seventeen and still isn’t really that old, even when he feels it all.

 He flips on the television. That’s big and expensive too, mostly because he can afford it and it seemed at the time like something he should have. The special that comes on is either fortunate or unfortunate, depending on your point of view: classic rock bands, defining legends, peaks and valleys and where are they now. In at least one case they’re drinking scotch-laced coffee and clutching a cellphone and contemplating the merits of passing out on the couch.

 Rain blows in. It spills like grief from the building’s eaves, and slides like tears down the big glass windowpanes. Kris closes his eyes.

#midwinter demon fic #screenplay #part six #last bit #so that happened #i don't even know #i hope you like it