#every few nights I give myself a night to chill and vibe so that I don't lose my entire mind in work

[biffhofosho]

Le Cirque du Fantasme | Part One

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch

Word Count: 12.2k

Pairing: Jooheon/Changkyun/Minhyuk x OC

Synopsis: Step right up! Step right up! Come one, come all to a celebration of the macabre, the daring, the enticing, and the beautiful. Inside this tent is another world—one that will challenge your senses as much as your soul. Nowhere else on Earth can you experience such an awakening. Just take caution—once you are awake, you’ll find it hard to ever go back to sleep.

The Vibe: Third person (as always), fall fog, small town, lost and found, night circus, inhumans, the seen and the unseen (heh), everything fantastical and provoking, wonderstruck OC, questioning reality, copious amounts of worldbuilding leads to copious amounts of smut, foursome, suspension, light bondage/shibari-adjacent, temperature play like woah, sexual oneupsmanship lol, acrobatic sex yw

A/N: Literally the second the opening bars hit on “Daydream,” I knew I was going to write an October fic to it. Not only that, I knew exactly what it called for.

I had originally intended to publish multiple October fics, same as last year, but since I boned myself over with my earlier writing hiatus, the least I can do is give you a twoshot. This is my love song to my readers who love worldbuilding as much as I do. I didn’t try to rein in the muse this time, so hopefully you disappear into another reality entirely with me. Also—  

Since it’s October, when we do get to the smut, I, um, went slightly more deviant than usual ahahaha. .-.

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03

“Oh, no.”

Mariam is aware that, all things considered, she is under-reacting.

She is lost when there is no reason for her to be lost.

Only minutes ago, she was walking home from her late shift at the diner, and now she is wandering through fog as thick as stuffing and woods where there should be sidewalk. It’s nighttime, but it’s doubtful that even in daylight things would change. Even with the pale moon, she can neither see where she has come from nor where she is headed.

The fog has muffled every sound like a pair of noise-canceling headphones. She can hear only the crunch of dry leaves under her boots. And, yeah, it’s late, but where’s the traffic? She always passes a few cars on the road. She realizes that is exceptionally weird, but there’s nothing to do but move forward. Carmel isn’t very big; she’s bound to wander into one of the old cemeteries any moment, and then she’ll know she’s close to her apartment.

Still, the woods are a little concerning. Town might be tiny, but if she’s somehow wandered into the woods around Ninham Mountain, Mariam could be lost for hours. The state forest is huge and full of lakes, and she is definitely not on any sort of trail at the moment.

Slowly, her usual cavalier attitude wears thin. It’s getting cold. The chill of autumn bites at her through her flannel, and she withdraws her fingers into her sleeves before they can chap. The further she walks into the fog without a guidepost, the more nervous she gets.

“Idiot!” she curses at herself.

Suddenly, it dawns on Mariam to check her phone. She fishes it out of her bag to find she’s been walking for ten minutes, which is her usual walk home, but she can’t see a single building let alone a sidewalk. Foolish as it is, she decides to map her route, but something much more alarming happens.

No signal.

She cannot call. She cannot text. She cannot even access her GPS.

The little marker on the map has her floating in a blob of gray, which is ironic considering she is unmoored in a cottony swab of nothingness.

“Oh, no.”

This time, at least, Mariam is painfully aware that her reaction is right on point.

She keeps her phone in hand now in the hope of catching a wisp of signal. She doesn’t feel like she’s walking up hill—she doesn’t feel like she’s moving at all—but in the hopes that she is, maybe she’ll pick up the cell tower. Realistically, she can’t have gotten that lost in ten minutes.

Her ears perk. She hears something other than her own feet, and she stops to make sure she isn’t hallucinating it.

Nope, that’s music all right. It’s just really, really weird music. Like someone’s playing organ music, but it’s definitely not from the Baptist church. It’s too… whimsical?

Mariam cocks her head. It reminds her of something. She can’t remember what, but something from her childhood, she’s sure.

With no other options, she walks toward it. At least she’ll find one other human out here who can give her some directions.

She turns on her flashlight, but it just rebounds off the fog and blinds her. Mariam stumbles against a tree and waits for the flood of brilliance to wash from behind her eyes. When she opens them again, the fog has miraculously thinned.

She’s definitely in the woods, not one of the little town parks or someone’s backyard but somewhere wild and unmanicured. The trees are spindly but thick, almost claustrophobic. There’s still no sign of a trail, and yet it seems like she’s on one. In fact, she can see it laid out before her, free of brambles and thickets and fallen trees. The fog is thinner there, too, though all along the sides of her, it’s as dense as cinder block.

The only thing that makes sense is following it, so Mariam does, and as she walks, the music gets louder. It also becomes more familiar. Maybe it’s because she’s lost, but something about it is so inviting. If notes can be colorful, these are positively flamboyant. She finds herself smiling in the fog.

The trail-not-trail bends and when she rounds a big boulder, she sees it.

There, in a glade cloistered by a lush canopy of fiery red maples, squats an enormous circus tent replete with a black flag snapping in a breeze that she can’t feel. The tent is striped white and black, high contrast even in the dark. There’s a long entrance tunnel, and at its maw is a ticket window lined with warm white lights. It glows like a lighthouse, and Mariam finds herself drawn into its harbors.

There’s a man in the window. He’s the most intense blend of handsome and cute she has ever seen. If she looks at him from one side, his eyes are thin and sharp, and they cut through her like razors, but if she looks at him from the other, his dimples cup his playful mouth as though they can barely contain his inner vibrance. His hair is darker than the night itself, making his skin look white as starlight by comparison, but the booth lighting frames his head like a halo. He’s an impossible mix of everything all at once, and she has never seen his equal.

Mariam steps to the window with an overwhelming sense of intimidation.

“Welcome, fair lady,” he says. His voice is potent. He says each word with a confidence that she has never felt in her whole life even at her best, and she finds herself captivated in the span of five syllables. His eyes dance as he studies her. “You’re just in time.”

“For what?” she asks.

“Showtime, of course. I was just about to close the ticket window, but lucky for us, I didn’t.”

It’s kind of a weird thing to say, Mariam thinks, but his unswerving confidence makes her reconsider.

“Actually, I was just looking for directions?” she says with more of a question than she intended.

“It seems to me you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Again, his conviction makes her question hers.

“I wasn’t planning on going to a show tonight.” She fishes through her bag and finds the small roll of ones and fives from her shift. Tuesday shifts were notoriously poor payouts, but a traveling outfit this elaborate has to cost a pretty penny considering how exclusive it must be out here in the middle of nowhere. “How much? I don't have much cash on me. You take cards?”

“Those little plastic rectangles?” he replies with a flippant smile. “Pointless.”

Mariam frowns. “Then I don’t think I can afford it.”

He leans across the counter, almost through the window itself, into her personal space. Her hands fly to her chocolate locks and gather them to one side, twisting and twisting it as tightly as she feels her stomach twisting.

“Oh, admission is very reasonable,” he assures. This time when he smiles, it feels like he’s keeping a secret. He presents a golden ticket, the glossy paper winking as it turns between his well-manicured fingers. “Admission is only a dream.”

“A dream?” Mariam says skeptically.

“Just that, miss. In exchange for the best dream you’ve ever had, we will provide you with a new one. Seems like a fair trade, yes?”

“It would be if I knew what you were talking about.”

“I promise you’ll never experience anything else like this.”

Her brow furrows as she glances up at the big top. “I don’t even know what this is.”

The ticket-taker pouts, and his lush lips fatten to sumptuous thickness. “I’m afraid the show must start, miss. Do we have a deal?”

Mariam considers. This isn’t why she came—no, wait, she didn’t intend to come here at all—but she is here now, and this charming ticket monger is next to impossible to resist. What’s the harm in telling him one single dream? He doesn’t need to know about that particular dream.

And, anyway, it’s not like he’s conning her out of any money. In essence, it’s some free, entertaining shelter from a foggy night. She weighs her options and makes her decision.

“Am I supposed to, like, write it down or something?” she asks.

“Just lean in,” he instructs.

Hesitantly, Mariam tips forward over the counter, and for a brief second, his plump lips ghost along hers.

She should jerk back. She should slap him. But she does nothing but let him kiss her like the night mist. She is frozen as a current of muddy feelings spill like water from her lips. The back of her brain tickles a bit, but it’s overruled by the more pleasant tickle of his lips dusting over hers.

When he’s done, he licks his lips, which have curled into a tiger’s grin. His eyes are lively, and he’s panting lightly. He clears his throat and adjusts his hips in his pants somewhere behind the counter.

“How delicious,” he practically purrs. “I may have to keep that one for myself. I almost feel bad for taking it from you, but I promise the replacement will exceed it.”

He presents the golden ticket, and Mariam takes it. She expects it to feel like paper or maybe metal, but instead, it feels gauzy, and she can't stop rubbing her thumb over it.

“Straight through there, fair lady,” he says. “The show is about to start, and a whole new dream awaits you.”

The ticket monger holds open the black curtain, and she enters the tunnel. The moment the curtain shuts behind her, it is blacker than an abyss. The only thing she can see is a thin, shimmering line of light at the far end.

Outside, she hears the snap of the ticket booth closing, and she knows she is alone. The music is louder now, drawing her forward more powerfully than ever, and she realizes why she recognized it in the first place. It rises and falls and scampers and twirls, almost as though she can see the notes surrounding her, teasing and laughing at her. It is the song of childhood, of delight and fantasy.

It is the song of the circus.

There are smells here, too, familiar and unfamiliar. There is the buttery warmth of popcorn and, beneath it, something much more unctuous, a bit like when the cooks at the diner render the lard for the pie crusts. There's a hint of something acrid too, and it reminds her of the smell of her father's rifles.

Mariam follows the tunnel to its end, where she parts the drape only to be assaulted by the brilliant spotlights surrounding a huge red ring. There are seats seven layers high around three sides terminating at a ring entrance shuttered by another heavy curtain, but this one is three times as tall and wide as the entrance she just came through. Just surrounding the ring are four enormous tent poles soaring to the canvas above, where wires zig and zag across the arena and café lights accent each black and white stripe, softening the harsh spotlights.

The ticket-taker is there to greet her as though he has never seen her before. He beams at her, those dimples creasing his plump cheeks. Mariam approaches with her ethereal ticket in hand and starlight in her eyes.

“What’s this? A golden ticket?” says the man with a sharp eyebrow raised. “We have ourselves a VIP tonight it seems. You’re in for a truly mesmerizing experience, miss. Follow me. I will show you to your seat.”

He does not take the ticket from her after all but, instead, leads her across the ring itself toward a pair of empty seats in a box on the floor.

“VIP?” she says as she struggles to keep up with his commanding steps. His thick black boots thunk across the floor and resound under the big top. “But I didn't pay you anything for it!”

“But you did,” he insists. “The most tantalizing dream gets the VIP treatment. After all, we have to work harder to replace what we have taken.”

Mariam tries to remember the dream she’d thought about before she entered, but where her brain searches for the memory, it finds only the lingering taste of his lips, which she savors like berries ripened by the moon until they’re ready to burst. It’s a bit of a silly thought, yet dark, sweet juice coats her mouth and whets her appetite for something even darker.

They stop outside the box seats, and the dimpled man holds open the door with a question on his face. “You want VIP, don’t you?”

“I do,” she finds herself answering.

This broadens the man’s shoulders, and now he smiles so widely that those thin eyes shut under the powerful force of his bright cheeks. “Your private seats then, my fair lady.”

Mariam sits on one of the velvet-padded seats as he closes the door and offers her a sweeping bow like the showman he is. The ticket-monger-turned-usher disappears now behind the backstage curtain, and she has little doubt she will see him in the show, most likely as a clown judging from his over-the-top antics.

As she tries to relax into her seat, Mariam spares some time to look beyond the open stage and see what other lost souls have stumbled into this weird circus. She wonders if she’ll see any of her friends or coworkers in the stands.

She does not. What she finds is far more unnerving.

There are only a dozen or so other spectators in the stands. None of them sit anywhere near each other. They are spread throughout the whole tent, high and low, mostly in shadow because the spotlights are fixed downward in the ring. At first, she thinks they are strays like her, but as they wait for the show to start, Mariam begins to doubt they are even human. If she looks at any one of them head on, they look like normal people, mostly men but a few women, too, but from her periphery, she swears she sees the jaws of a wolf or the skin of a lizard or even a pair of antlers when she turns her head. Most have eyes of glinting gold exactly like those she’s seen along the road when her high beams catch just so.

And there are fangs. Fangs everywhere, some long and thin, some fat or even serrated.

One of them, a thin, hunched man with mottled scales in patches all over his body, is eating from a black and white striped carton which might usually house popcorn, but it definitely isn’t, and he isn’t eating whatever it is with his hand but with quick snaps of a lightning-fast tongue.

Mariam is growing uncomfortable again. She had thought this place might get her back home, but it has taken her somewhere far more foreign, and she’s feeling more alone than ever. She has felt different a lot in her life but never like an actual alien.

She should probably be more scared than anything, but none of these people—creatures—are looking at her. They are all looking toward the ring. Nobody speaks although she swears she hears a snort from one side of the arena that someone echoes on the other side with a series of strange clicks.

She wishes the berry-lipped man would come back and take the seat beside her. She can’t be sure he’s human now either, but she trusts his smile and his dimples, even if she shouldn’t.

Just when Mariam is ready to dart to the exit, music swells anew. It is far more powerful than the spirited diddy that lured her here. Under the big top, the organ booms and the drums thunder, and everything feels like it’s spinning like a carousel.

“Strangers! Friends! Denizens of the dark and light dwellers alike!” comes a voice of unquestionable power from somewhere backstage. As far as Mariam can tell, there is no sound system. It's just the voice of a true entertainer filling the canvas wall-to-wall. “The time has come to revel in the greatest spectacle the night has ever seen. Pretense, common sense, even the very laws of nature itself, have no place under this canopy. What you will experience tonight will challenge your very perception of reality. Nothing you have seen before tonight can prepare you for what you are about to see. At times, you may think you have wandered into a dream, but I assure you, what you are about to witness is so much more. Welcome—”

The backstage curtains sail wide with a snap and a flutter, and a man bursts through, his arms wide and his dimples shining in the spotlights.

“—to Le Cirque du Fantasme!”

The audience applauds, rather lackluster Mariam thinks for the passion of such a lofty introduction, so she tries to clap just a little louder than everyone else. After all, she is getting the VIP treatment, so she should return the favor.

The man rises from a bow that completely folds him in half, and she shakes her head in awe. She had expected—hoped—to see him again, but she is not prepared for the striking figure the former usher cuts in his crimson crushed velvet coat. The tails swish at the back of his knees as he laps the ring. Diamond buttons splinter in the light as does the sweat already beading at his brow.

“I am Jooheon, your ringmaster, but I am also your guide. For every wonder you experience tonight, I will be by your side to remind you that what you are witnessing is indeed real. Together, we will discover there is magic left in the world if you know just where to look.”

He stops in front of the VIP box and tips his head with a smile just for Mariam, and then he is gone.

Back in the center of the ring, Jooheon enumerates the many wonders on their horizon, impossible, tantalizing things that cannot be real, yet the more he promises, the more she believes him. Thanks to this man’s unprecedented versatility, she is also starting to believe this is a one-man circus. Maybe he will perform all of the spectacular acts he’s teasing.

But Jooheon confounds her again. With a dramatic swoop of his hand, he draws the audience’s eyes to the massive curtains at the rear of the tent, and slowly, the heavy fabric parts by unseen hands.

Mariam’s seat trembles. At first, she thinks she’s imagining it, caught up in the ringmaster’s passion, but then it trembles again and again, and she realizes they’re tremors.

No. Footfalls.

The arena is dead silent.

Thwomp. Thwomp. Thwomp.

The face appears first in shadow—a great black snout snuffling so strongly that the curtains puff. Even through the veil of backstage, the eyes are clear and bright, an otherworldly metallic green that flash the same sort of gold that some of the audience members possess.

Another footfall, and the muzzle appears, ornamented with thick black lips fringed by snow white and overhung by two bone-shattering fangs as long as her hand.

Since Mariam sits off to the side, the eyes do not seem to perceive her, yet she tucks her legs up against herself and ducks her head to peer from behind her knees as the rest of the creature emerges to fill the ring.

It’s a wolf—if one can call it that. It’s nearly twice the height of a horse and just as broad. Its fur is white all over save for the silver tips to each hair that make it sparkle in the spotlight. Its chunky claws click on the ring floor as it shuffles into position.

Mariam relaxes now. Maybe it’s because Jooheon is standing there unbothered by its haunches or maybe it’s because its face is rather doglike despite its other ferocious features or maybe it’s the fact that its tail is wagging, but most likely, it’s because a man sits astride its great shoulders, scratching its fluffy ears.

“Friends, behold!” trumpets Jooheon. “Our Amorak and our beastmaster, Shownu! Together, they will take us on a journey through the world of creatures long considered too elusive or vicious to be tamed. Many have been laughed at for believing the campfire tales or legends of our ancestors, but for Shownu, these legends are not legends at all but friends and allies, and now, they will be yours, too.”

The Amorak sits down, and Shownu releases its mane to slide down its back like a child on a playground. The beastmaster lands easily and pats the great wolf’s backside. With a snap of the man’s fingers, the Amorak stands and side-steps as delicately as a pony so that even a man as imposing and broad-chested as the beastmaster stands beneath the animal, the man’s head at its elbow.

From the shadows beneath, Shownu whistles, and the wolf spins so its back legs face the audience. Another whistle, this one like a see-saw, and the creature wags its tail in huge, careful strokes that send its long fur sweeping the faces of the audience members brave enough to sit in the first couple rows. Laughter rings out. Mariam finds she is laughing, too, and perhaps even a little envious.

As if he knows this, Jooheon saunters over to the VIP box and says, “Fair lady, would you please stand?”

“What?” she whispers hoarsely.

“Now is better,” he teases with his dimples.

The Amorak shifts, and now there is no doubt it perceives her. The beastmaster steps out from the belly of the beast and walks toward her. Mariam shoots up from her seat, less out of fear of the creature than out of respect for its master.

Shownu stands opposite Jooheon at the box and centers his attention on the VIP. There is a gentleness in his face that she could never have anticipated considering his ominous moniker, but Shownu smiles at her very differently than Jooheon ever has. His lips do not part but, instead, sit neatly atop each other in a way that raises his cheeks like two little fresh-baked rolls.

“Hold out your hand, palm up,” the beastmaster instructs in a gruff but inviting voice.

Mariam does so hesitantly, and when her arm is fully extended, the Amorak raises its paw, too, and places it light as a feather in hers. It’s so huge that only a portion of a single blazing paw pad fills her palm. Its long feathery fur tickles her skin, and she finds herself giggling. The two men exchange smiles, and the Amorak lowers its head. It snorts once, and her long hair sails behind her. She laughs harder now, and the beast and the beastmaster withdraw to the heart of the ring again, her body vibrating both from the experience and the tremors of footfalls.

Mariam sits back down, cradling her hand to her chest with a slack-jawed smile on her face.

The duo performs a few other stunts—the Amorak stands on his back legs and wobbles in the circle, as does Shownu, which has the audience cackling, and then it howls, nearly blowing the roof off the circus tent, which sends the audience cowering—before the wolf takes a seat and Shownu takes a post at the curtain.

Another man, this one even broader and more muscular than Shownu, comes out just long enough to shepherd in two sweet-faced animals before he disappears into the back. At first, Mariam thinks they are fawns, but then she sees the tawny wings folded at their backs.

Jooheon introduces these as perytons, not that that means anything to her, but the antlered person she’d caught sight of earlier in the stands cheers and stamps so enthusiastically that the ringmaster practically glows with the praise.

Shownu gets the energetic little critters to perform a choregraphed dance, which would be cute enough, but then they take to the sky, and whimsy becomes awe. The perytons glide and weave just like birds though they snort and snuffle like deer. Mariam is so lost in the spectacle that she barely catches Jooheon’s note that their sweet faces conceal true power, and no sooner does he say this then one of the little deer-birds divebombs the spectator with the popcorn container and, with taloned back legs instead of its hooved front ones, grabs a hunk of what looks like entrails and lobs it back like a baseball to its friend. The other peryton snaps it out of mid-air to devour it, and the sight of a sweet little fawn face gobbling intestines is not something Mariam imagines she will ever forget. The Amorak growls, and the two mischievous babies promptly land, bleating like kids laughing at their father.

After that, Shownu spreads his arms out wide and lifts his powerful chest, and the perytons follow suit, their hawk-like wings fanned out, every feather articulated. There’s no denying the stir in Mariam’s belly as she studies the beastmaster commanding his beasts, for they follow his every command unquestioningly.

The perytons perform a few more aerial tricks of agility with a ball and a ribbon, and when they are done, the buff shepherd from earlier fetches them to the back and then returns, this time dropping a trail of meat into the ring.

From the back inches a gigantic pink blob. The front end is nothing but a gaping maw lined with hundreds of wicked teeth, and… that’s it—it’s nothing but pinkness and horrifying teeth. Again, Mariam finds herself tucking her feet up onto her chair as though she’s afraid it will break into the box and mow her clean off at the knees.

Jooheon explains this is a Mongolian Death Worm, eyeless and earless but hardly helpless. The crowd is instructed to keep quiet since it hunts by vibration, but Mariam quickly sees that is only partly true when the worm reaches Shownu, and the beastmaster stoops down to pat the top of its head while two big nostrils open for a long sniff.

The creature is longer than her father's car and the color of exposed muscle. Its segments undulate when it moves as well as when it eats, which is an awful lot like Taz from the Looney Tunes, she thinks. It should be grotesque, but Mariam can't help but find it adorable as the monster looks up at its master and seems to smile even without eyes and lips.

Through a series of stamps and claps of his hands against the floor, Shownu communicates with the beast. It rolls up and lunges on command, jawless mouth snapping. It roars with the power and ferocity of a sandstorm, and her blood curdles. Then, as if to rub its stubby pink nose in the face of its moniker, the worm curls into a ball that Shownu scoops up in his sturdy hands and lobs straight into the air for his Amorak to catch in its mouth. Finally, the big wolf drops it to the ground, and the giant wad of chewed bubble gum unspools and jiggles itself dry to the squeal of the few audience members who sat too close to the action and got sprayed with giant dog saliva.

As the laughter dies down, however, the ringmaster reminds everyone not so subtly that this is a death worm. To prove that point, Shownu brings out a giant rod with a metal ball on the end and taps the top of the worm's head. It growls—a sound that trembles in the bones more than in the ears, a bit like a building earthquake or an oncoming train—and rears up, and when it does, it puffs out almost twice its width. Fantastic crackles of lightning discharge from its head and arc into the ball at the end of the rod. They snap and pop and sizzle in yellow so brilliant, Mariam has to close her eyes most of the way so she doesn’t go blind.

When at last the worm deflates, panting in the ring, the beastmaster touches the tip of the rod to the metal pole supporting the tent, and a sonic boom shivers the canvas on its rails. The residual electricity stands up every hair on Mariam's arms and, unfortunately, most of her head, too, which she is quick to smooth down. Shownu pats the worm on the head again, and the chubby blob slinks off behind the buff shepherd, rather satisfied for a death worm, she thinks.

After a hearty round of applause, the beastmaster and the Amorak both bow to the audience, and Shownu takes the opportunity to leap between the giant wolf’s shoulder blades. When it rises again, the man sits astride with a nod for the crowd and one specifically for Mariam, and he looks as much like a cowboy on a horse as he does a man on a mythological creature.

Jooheon takes center stage again, and she is struck by just how much the man seems to belong in the spotlight. With a toothy grin, he says, “Shownu, everyone! Please let him hear how much you loved his menagerie of talented friends.”

Applause and cheers ring out, and Mariam joins in extra loudly since she’s still feeling electrified by the death worm.

“For our next act, I invite you to feast your eyes on a man with the strength of a beast, the body of a god, and the face of an angel. But it isn’t just strength he brings to the table, no, no, no, but agility. Straight from the realm of the Fair Folk, prepare to delight in the beautiful brute force and precision artistry of our resident fae, Wonho!”

The ringmaster steps to the edge of the ring as the former shepherd returns to center stage, padding out in bare feet unaccompanied. He is massive, with enormous shoulders corded with muscle protruding from his tank top. Mariam wonders how it doesn’t burst at the seams considering how the rest of his chest bulges against the fabric, but maybe that’s just another part of the circus magic or it’s simply painted on. It's not much different with his pants. The way the fabric stretches around his tree trunk thighs is perhaps even more magical, and she knows she should probably look away, but how can she when it seems as though the man was made specifically to ogle.

His white hair has the faintest hint of lilac, and like the Amorak fur, there’s a metallic glint to it, but it’s nothing to the glint in his emerald eyes. Even from ringside, they are piercing, so green that they seem lit by some internal flame, and when they fall to her, Mariam exhales so sharply that she realizes she’s been holding her breath since he strolled in.

He is carrying something in his enormous hands. It looks like a giant crystal cube, and it warps and shatters the light like a disco ball.

Wonho smiles. It’s as dazzling as Jooheon’s, all teeth but no dimples, and it accentuates just how delicate he is despite his big body. His ears stick out like little butterfly wings, but just before she can be spirited away by such cuteness, he shucks the tank top over his head, and it’s not just the intimidating display of muscle that catches her off-guard—it’s the actual set of wings at his back.

They unfurl, thin and translucent as stained glass, framed in by silver rims as fragile as the mint green panes inside. She thinks there's no way that something so ethereal could possibly be functional, but, as if to prove her wrong, Wonho alights before her eyes toward a crow's nest just above the ring. The wings make a rustling sound, like a stack of papers blown apart at an open window. They beat nearly as fast as a bumblebee’s, and when he pivots in the air, the breeze they make ruffles Mariam’s hair.

He lands on the platform there and puts down the block in his hand. He wipes his hands on his pants and then rubs them together before waving at each group of the audience. To Mariam, he adds a bow.

When he's ready, he takes several deep breaths, that gargantuan chest ballooning with every one. He picks up the block and splays his hands on either side of it, and then she hears the cracking. It sounds like ice when she pours soda over it at the diner, pops and crackles and pings.

His biceps strain and his forearms flex, and the cracking gets louder and louder and louder. Huge fissures zigzag across the cube until there's an explosion. The cube is powder now, piles in his hands and at his feet. Before anyone even has a chance to applaud, the strongman pivots and flaps his wings, and now, it's snowing under the tent. Like an oscillating fan, he swivels from side to side, and Mariam feels the kiss of snowflakes on her cheeks and lashes. It melts instantly, but its dewy memory sends a smile of pure marvel to her face.

Instead of flying down from his perch, Wonho leaps and lands on his feet with a thud so fast that the snow is still falling like glitter on his fair skin. He doesn't bother to brush it off but lets it melt to a sparkly finish that turns him into living art.

He spends a few minutes lifting impossibly heavy objects and then taking to the air with them as though they are beach balls and not anvils and boulders and other ridiculous things. With his hands, he twists pipes into shapes like balloon animals and ties a knot—out of rebar—with his feet.

Another man emerges from the back then, this one long and thin like taffy freshly pulled, but when he steps into the ruthless lighting, she sees his fair skin is covered in delicate iridescent scales. He brings a stool, a mirror, a bow and arrow, and a bullseye. The tall man configures everything carefully while Wonho makes faces at his coworker in the mirror, and Mariam realizes the strongman is just as much a clown as anything.

When everything is ready, the tall man steps back. Wonho does a handstand on the stool, his back to the bullseye and his eyes on the mirror opposite it.

There’s something about the way his muscles lengthen as he contorts that has Mariam licking her lips. The twitches in his forearms as he adjusts, the flare of his ribs under that dewy skin, that illicit bulge urging against the constraints of his lycra pants—Wonho is truly an astonishing sight, and there’s a pang in her heart when she realizes how much of the world will never know his beauty and grace.

When he’s balanced just so, muscles trembling and abdominals squeezing with breath and stability, the other man situates the bow with the arrow already nocked between Wonho’s nimble feet.

The strongman shuffles his hands on the stool seat and achingly slowly bends his legs, arching his chest as a counterbalance. When the bow and arrow are lined up with the bullseye, Wonho grips the bowstring and pulls it taut.

Mariam holds her breath.

Wonho holds his.

The arrow flies.

Straight into the red bullseye.

The small crowd breaks out into uproarious applause, and she finds herself standing as she claps. Wonho bows to them all as the tall man clears out the equipment, and just as the strongman finishes his rounds, the Amorak comes bounding back in.

The audience recoils at the sudden thunderous intrusion, especially since the great beast is growling, but Wonho is unbothered, and only then does Mariam realize there’s a humongous rope lodged in its great teeth. The strongman pats the wolf’s head before he snatches the free end of the rope and shakes the Amorak back and forth. The growling turns to snarls.

Wonho takes to the air, yanking and pulling, those fragile wings beating more ferociously than the snarls sound. The Amorak digs in its claws and tries to pull back, but with a cheeky wave to the crowd, the white-haired fae drags the wolf back through the curtain as though the creature ten times his size is nothing but a tiny terrier.

The room is speechless, which Jooheon is only too happy to discover.

The ringmaster slides right back into the spotlight and trumpets, “Don’t forget to let Wonho hear it if you were impressed.”

Of course, the small crowd erupts, Mariam chief among them. She can’t escape the image of those pretty wings contrasting rock-hard muscle, the kiss of ice crystals melting on ivory skin.

It’s impossible. It’s unbelievable. She is shaken to her very core.

“We’re not done yet, folks,” Jooheon promises as he cuts through her existential crisis. “Our next performer is just as sure to wow you as much with his incredible dexterity as his unparalleled visuals. I personally guarantee you have never before seen anything like his act let alone the performer himself. He has come up from the darkest depths of the sea to dazzle and delight you with wonderous abilities only a one-of-a-kind hybrid like himself can conjure.

“During portions of the show, you may feel tempted to enter the ring. For your safety as well as the safety of our performer, I ask that you please use the seatbelts provided at your seat before we begin.”

Mariam looks down and finds that there is indeed a belt dangling from her chair, which seems utterly ridiculous at first, but as she recalls the incredible things she’s just witnessed, she secures it around her waist. Only a moment later, as the click of buckles ding around the tent, Jooheon walks by with a gentle smile, though his eyes are on her secured seatbelt.

He does the same throughout the rest of the crowd while two new men, one with red hair and one with blue, emerge with Wonho from the back and lift a large wooden cover from the center of the ring to reveal a shallow pool of water. They roll the cover off to the side into a metal corral and then linger at the lip of the ring along with Shownu and the man with the scales, who takes up his station closest to Mariam’s booth. Each man turns his back to the stage to watch the crowd instead, and when the man with the scales catches her gaze, the iridescence shimmers to the sweetest pink before it goes white as a sheet.

She has only a moment to reflect on the tall man’s otherworldly elegance before Jooheon clears his throat.

“Introducing: the one, the only, the luminescent Kihyun!”

The lights dim and the gentle circus music that always swells between acts dies entirely. Each of the last two performances had music, but now, it is so quiet, all she can hear is the lapping of the pool.

It is almost pitch black, though there is just enough light to see a figure emerge from behind the curtain.

He is compact and wiry. His bare feet pad across the ring and dip into the pool with the gentlest of splashes. He wades into the center, the water rising no higher than mid-shin, and then he opens his eyes.

Mariam had assumed it was just too dark to see his eyes, but now that they are open, she understands. He’s special.

They shimmer with the same eerie softness of a glow-in-the-dark toy. They don’t have the sharpness of oncoming headlights which force the eyes away, but instead, they draw her in. They beckon. She imagines seeing them looking down at her in the dark of a bedchamber, but she shakes the thoughts away.

He stoops and rifles beneath the water and soon comes up with a handful of rings. One by one, he squeezes them, and suddenly, they glow, too. He drops four chartreuse rings back below the water to glow at his feet but holds on to five others, though each of those are different colors.

Slowly, Mariam realizes it’s not just Kihyun’s eyes or the rings that glow. Pinpricks of light stud his body like a runway, and she can see now that, though he has arms and legs like a man, he is different—he is more. His skin is also unique. Though she can’t be sure of the exact colors, his front is definitely lighter than his back.

He wears a skintight outfit, something streamlined like a full-body swimsuit though its hard to be sure in the wan light, but now, she can clearly see the outline of sharp, articulated fins both on his forearms and his back.

Kihyun divides the rings in his hands and begins to toss them in the air until a rainbow of light streaks through the darkness. He builds speed until it seems that he’s not just juggling rings but bending light all together.

Once he’s captivated the crowd, he begins to sing. It’s not like anything Mariam has ever heard. Her heart slows. Her mind muddles. She forgets things beyond the show of light and the swirl of the melody around her. Kihyun bend a series of “oohs” and “ahs” of varying textures and power and lengths just as he bends the light—masterfully.

He spins. He pivots. He catches behind his back. Through it all, he sings.

Mariam realizes vaguely that her hips hurt where something presses unfairly against her. It’s keeping her from the ring. It’s keeping her from Kihyun. If she could tear her eyes from him, she could figure it out, but she can’t risk a second away from his incandescent frame.

The music stops, and Mariam stops, too, waiting for the next dulcet note. Abruptly, the juggler gathers all but one the rainbow rings in one hand and crouches down to the water.

He rubs the pink ring along the surface in a figure eight, and when he lifts it, it is dripping loudly in the stone silent room. He brings it up to his face, and Mariam can finally see his features clearly—his angular jaw, his strong cheekbones, his sharp eyebrows. Even the bow on his elegant lips is pointed.

He puckers those dangerous lips and blows into the center of the ring. Just like a kid’s wand, a bubble appears, but Kihyun does not easily run out of breath and the bubble stays flexible. By the time he is done, the bubble is almost as tall as he is. With a swift motion, he flicks the ring inside the bubble, and it seals behind it. The surface warbles with the pink light within, and with another gust from his lips, it sails to the ceiling above Jooheon and hangs obediently like a balloon tied off. He repeats the process with the remaining four rings until there is a watery chandelier illuminating the whole room. Mariam catches a glimpse of shimmering aqua on her own skin, hears the burble of the impossibly churning water sphere overhead, but she can't bring herself to look up—only ahead.

Kihyun stoops and scoops a cupful of water, which he then pours into his mouth. At first, she assumes it’s just a necessary part of being whatever it is he is, but then he spits a thin jet of the water into the air, only when he does, it’s colored with the same eerie blue-white light that dots his body. The stream wanes, but he replenishes it with another long draft from the cup, this time arcing the glowing water like a hula hoop as he spins. On the last drink, he blows a trio of bubbles, these ones as small as his fist but infused with the otherworldly luster. He does not pop them but casts them gingerly just above his head where they hang like a halo.

Finally, he fishes back through the water again, and this time, he brings up five already-glowing balls. These, like the rings, are clearly a prop, though half of Mariam wonders if they’re actually shimmering deep sea pearls.

Kihyun starts juggling these the same way he did the rings, establishing a familiar rhythm before picking up speed until he adds a new layer. He closes those firefly eyes and trusts in whatever senses he has left to keep the balls aloft.

Above him, the little bubble crown illuminates his wet black hair, which undulates back from his face as though caught in an unseen current. It is as mesmerizing as the blender-like rhythm the balls seem to be caught in between his dexterous hands.

Sing.

Please sing.

Please.

Mariam thinks she’s said that in her head, but the whispers hit her ear, and she realizes she hasn’t.

The man with the scales encroaches at the edge of her vision, and it’s a crude reminder that there are others in the room beside the luminescent Kihyun.

As though he’s heard her, the juggler opens that exceptional mouth, and more notes pour out, and though there’s no eerie blue light to accompany them, they’re brilliant all the same. Kihyun has a way of singing that sounds as though they’re all underwater.

None of the balls waver even for a second. His unswerving confidence that he will never let them drop is almost as mesmerizing as his unearthly voice.

Again, Mariam feels that pressure across her hips, and it’s becoming more insistent by the second.

She should be in the ring by now. She needs to be. She might go insane if she’s not.

A whistle pierces the air, and Kihyun stops singing. The balls fall together in a discordant splash, and quick as the death worm’s lightning, the juggler raises his arm, forearms out and fins in a full mast. From the tips of those articulations, he shoots something too small to see in the dim light though Mariam hears the little pew-pew-pew-pew-pew as he spins in the pool.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Each massive glowing bubble explodes overhead while the rings inside fall into the hands of his fellow performers and the water rains in a much-needed cold shower over the audience. Mariam lets out a squeal as she is drenched and gulping for air against the wet chill. Goosebumps dimple her from head to toe, and she folds her arms over her chest to generate fresh heat.

The crowd is too stunned to applaud, but Kihyun doesn’t wait for it either. He exits the pool, bows to the stands, and then pads off to the back while the other performers begin the cleanup. Meanwhile, Wonho takes to the sky to buzz over the handful of audience members one by one, spinning around so his wings beat like a fan over them. He reaches Mariam last, and when he blasts her with air, she yelps and shivers, but in short order, she is dry and happy again in her flannel. He tips his impish head to her and buzzes back to help the others with the last of the preparation, and soon the ring is back as it was.

Now dry and sober, the audience remembers itself, and together, they erupt into riotous applause. Mariam tries to stand for an ovation, but then she remembers the seatbelt, and as soon as she unbuckles it, it’s like a weight is off her lap, and suddenly, it doesn’t seem so silly.

“Let him know, let him know!” cheers Jooheon as he takes center stage again. “You’ll never see another one like Kihyun, folks.”

Of that, Mariam is certain. She claps fiercer than ever even as her cheeks color at the memory of his voice.

“I’m sorry to tell you we have but two acts to go,” Jooheon laments, and Mariam laments with him. She feels the dread even before he says it. But he brightens immediately and surges forth in a sweeping circle around the room. “But the good news is they will both delight, confound, and astound you.

“First up, from far across the seas, on an untamed mountain, comes a beautiful and elusive man who both defies your notice but also demands it. Don’t let the sweet face fool you, he is wild and unpredictable and harbors a true hunger for adventure. Prepare to thrill as he risks life and limb to take you to the edge like never before! I present to you… Hyungwon!”

The spotlight centers in the ring, but no one is there and no one emerges from the back either.

“Hyungwon!” Jooheon repeats just as dramatically, but no one appears. Eyes start darting around the room, so, too, do whispers break out. The man in the crimson coat looks back to the entrance. “Hyungwon?”

The ringmaster looks a little nervous, those robust lips pulled tight as he paces the ring edge. He clears his throat.

“My apologies, esteemed guests. Hyungwon is supposed to be nocturnal, but sometimes he drifts off. Just a minute, and we'll get on with the show.”

Mariam sees Wonho darting back behind the curtains while, in the deep shadows at the edge of the ring, she spies the mysterious Kihyun with his arms stacked over his chest as he shakes his head. It's just starting to get uncomfortable, and they're all at the edge of their seats.

“Where is he?” Mariam whispers.

“Boo,” comes a totally different whisper along with a puff of hot breath beside her ear.

Mariam yells and instantly clamps her hand over her mouth as she jukes to the side in time to catch the luminous round face of the man with the scales.

All eyes as well as a spotlight turn to the VIP box to find Hyungwon with this face beside hers, flaunting a toothy grin and cheeks like doorbells begging to be pressed. His laugh is airy and infectious, childlike even, and though he has startled a year of her life from her, Mariam is laughing, too, even as her hand clutches her heart in hopes of slowing it.

How long had he been there without her knowing?

As her pulse slows, she closes her eyes, and when she opens them, he is nowhere to be seen.

Mariam swivels around like a dope, but the new performer has vanished. A few other crowd members laugh, but the patchy lizard man with the long tongue is outright cackling and applauding louder than anyone as though he understands the joke better than the rest of them can.

Jooheon, Wonho, and Kihyun are all laughing, too, so Mariam has to assume this is all part of the man's grand entrance.

And grand it is! Now when the spotlight centers in the ring, Hyungwon strolls into it. He is sporting a pair of leather pants but nothing else, not even shoes, and she can see it's not just his hands and neck and face covered in those scales but his whole body. Like the rest of his features, they are delicate and captivating, almost like glitter sewn directly onto his skin. He throws his arms wide, and she is dazzled by more than just his unique features. He is lean and sinewy with a tiny waist and shoulders as broad as a door.

Colors and shapes dance across his scales in seemingly impossible patterns; even his hair shifts like fiber optics. She recognizes many of the patterns: the tent stripes or the ring floor or the Amorak’s fur; for a moment, he even glows like Kihyun’s strange luminescence. His visual display morphs into a splash of crimson in the exact shape and design of the ringmaster’s coat, which makes Jooheon beam and clap enthusiastically. Hyungwon concludes with the most shocking display of all—he nearly disappears from plain sight by copying the patterns of the backgrounds on all sides.

But then something occurs to Mariam. Hyungwon is almost totally invisible thanks to his camouflage, but the leather cannot follow suit so it looks like a pair of pants floating in the middle of the ring. When he’d been right beside her though, there’d been nothing—not even pants. Shock and more than a little embarrassment grip her body, and she swears the performer knows because he turns to her right then with a very troublesome smile.

Mariam has been so busy being awestruck by their performances that it hasn’t occurred to her to consider how much of them is human when so many parts of them clearly are not. But now the rabbit is out of the hat and she's chasing helplessly after it, wondering what kind of lovers such spectacular beings would be. That's not a thing she should be thinking about looking at a chameleon man, especially because she is a conservative person—she has been her whole life. But sometimes she has thoughts… fantasies. Sometimes she has unusual dreams. There was one in particular she’s often thought of since, in her moments of weakness, but what was it again?

She's so far gone in the illicit thoughts that she nearly falls out of her seat when a motorcycle above her roars. She looks up, and there is Hyungwon at the peak of tent on a platform much higher than the one Wonho had risked. She doesn’t remember the motorcycle there, but it must have been. It sits anchored at the edge of the platform. It has no tires, just rims resting on top of a wire, and though there is a ring securing the machine to the wire, it won’t keep it upright. Beneath it is a perch as a counterbalance, and, of all things, one of the perytons sits on it. Its clawed back feet cling like a bird on a wire.

Hyungwon sits astride the motorcycle, now clad in a black leather vest and a pair of boots. As a whimsical note, some of the scales across his face have blackened into a sunglasses shape. He isn’t tethered to anything, and Mariam can see between his slight twitches and the peryton’s, they are working together to keep themselves upright on the wire.

The engine revs again, and Jooheon raises his hands to incite the crowd. Everyone whoops and cheers, including Mariam, and then Hyungwon zooms ahead.

The bike zips up the slight incline to the other end, where he lets off the gas, and the unlikely pair drifts backwards smooth as a sled riding down a snowy hill. Once they’re back at the bottom, Hyungwon surges ahead again, but he slows when they reach the middle of the line. He cuts the engine, and instead, the room fills with the ping-ping of the wire bobbing under the weight.

Below, the peryton wobbles and tips backwards, clinging to the rail with its claws as it hangs upside down and spreads its wings. Once it’s at full breadth, Hyungwon stands on the footpegs and slowly—tremulously, steps both feet onto the seat before propping one on the handlebars. He, too, spreads his muscled arms, and as the motorcycle glides backward down the slope, little bursts of yellow, like tiny supernovas, fire across his skin. Feathers whisper in the breeze before the crowd roars with the showcase.

Mariam’s heart is in her throat, so big she practically chokes on it. Her skin pebbles with fresh goosebumps because the pair isn’t slowing. In fact, the motorcycle is picking up speed as it glides.

Before they can crash back into the platform, Hyungwon slides back onto the seat and revs the engine again. The peryton swings back upright, and the rider tosses down some dark and messy treat to his passenger.

Mariam assumes it’s over, but then the bike sails even faster up to the peak, and this time when they brake at the top, the peryton rocks side-to-side, and just like that, the motorcycle loops like a propeller around and around the wire.

She screams. So does someone else. Both rider and passenger are completely unbothered.

They whirl backwards down the wire, and it almost makes Mariam sick to watch the spinning. Even worse, as has been happening all night, she thinks again on things she shouldn’t. She thinks on how strong his thighs have to be to hold onto that bike, and she finds herself clenching hers just as hard.

Just as they get to the platform, the peryton startles and takes flight, which immediately flips the motorcycle. Hyungwon plunges from his seat several stories above the floor. Screams ring out all around the canopy.

But not Mariam. She can’t scream. This time, she’s too paralyzed with terror.

This is it. This is going to be the show where something goes horribly, terribly wrong, and as much as she had already been changed by tonight’s performances, this will ruin her.

She feels sick.

Hyungwon’s halfway to his surefire death when the winged creature swoops down casual as can be and grabs his outstretched wrist with its back claw. He drifts like Alice falling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland onto yet another motorcycle that Mariam never even saw waiting for him in the ring.

Relief washes through her, and she realizes that over the course of however long she’s been sitting here, she has formed some kind of unnatural bond with the performers. She thinks of them not just as acrobats or athletes but as friends—or, maybe, more disturbingly, something more. Just the notion of them getting hurt tightens every muscle in her body like a winch.

But no one else seems nearly as bothered by the daring risks they’ve just witnessed. As the crowd leaps to its feet, Hyungwon waves and circles the ring on the bike a few times. With a rev of his engine and one final wheelie, he speeds to the back with the peryton in tow.

Jooheon makes his way to ring center as usual, and he’s cheering just as much as the audience. That infectious smile of his stirs the crowd as much as it stirs Mariam’s heart with gratitude.

“How about that, dear guests? I think I can boast with total confidence that that was yet another act such as you have never seen! Another round of applause for Hyungwon and Dyani. Let them hear you.”

The audience doesn’t disappoint. With each act, they’ve gotten more and more comfortable and more and more awestruck. It’s beginning to feel like an impossible ask to ever leave this big top. Yet, Jooheon’s next words send a chill through Mariam’s bones.

“As always, we close our show with the most dynamic performance of all. As you have learned by now, nothing about Le Cirque du Fantasme is traditional, so it must hold true that neither are our clowns. Not only will they take to the skies tonight, but they will take you to new heights with them. Be dazzled as fire and ice harmonize in ways you never thought possible, and, above all, expect the unexpected. Presenting The Flying Fools, Minhyuk and Changkyun!”

The ringmaster steps to the side as the final two performers enter the room.

They move in perfect unison, but that’s where the similarities end. The taller one, with hair like candle flames, presents in vivid detail. His face is shaped like a flame, too, with all the same flickering dimension and undulating contours. His skin is bright and brilliant like his smile only with a sheen to it, and when he spins in the lights, Mariam realizes it’s like a cast of gold dust upon him. She’s not sure if that’s stage makeup or if that’s just part of who he is, but considering his counterpart, it seems like the latter.

The shorter one has hair like snowflake filaments, each strand almost crystalline yet without being actually frozen. Even the cool way he strolls feels like a breeze across damp skin. Though his lines are sharp, borderline cutting, when he steps in the light, Mariam swears she can see through him. He’s sleek when he moves; every line and twitch has a purpose. It’s as though he is untethered and untouchable by everything. It’s almost as though his feet aren’t even touching the floor. She might think he’s a ghost if everyone else weren’t seeing the same thing.

With a pair of synchronized bows, the performers greet their audience silently just as the others did, saving all the talking for their ringmaster. Instead, they start their act with a series of incredible one-upsmanship. The redhead conjures fire in his palm, which the blue-haired man snuffs with a flick of his wrist. In retaliation, he then creates three snowballs of varying sizes into a very sweet but very humble snowman, and the redhead returns the favor by lobbing a fireball under his knee with the unforgiving precision of a meteor. The poor snowman explodes and melts into a puddle while the crowd chuckles.

They make faces at one another as they hurry to build their next assault. One constructs a basketball-sized snowball to the other’s fireball, and with a war cry like two brothers squaring up, they throw at each other. If either is off-target, Mariam will be buried in snow and the other side of the ring will be engulfed in flame, but their aim is true, and the two balls collide with a hiss like punching a hill of sand.

As they mock-squabble, a bar lowers from the ceiling, one side featuring a ring dangling from a chain and the other side featuring willowy baby blue ribbons fluttering as they descend. The two performers continue silently bickering as the redhead climbs into his ring and takes a seat and the blue-haired man winds his foot intricately through one ribbon while he scales the silks.

Once their eyelines are even, the bar raises, and now, the two men soar over center stage a few stories up. Closer to the spotlights, the redhead glitters like a disco ball while, at precisely the right moment, the light pierces the blue-haired man, like sun through a blanket of clouds, and shines down on the ringmaster’s grin.

As the pair reach their pinnacle, they play—not just off of the instruments but each other. It’s organized chaos. The man in the ring rocks like a monkey on a swing, his feet kicking and lifting. At first, it’s art, but then it’s clear his true intent is to toy with his friend. He drops. He swings. He pushes off of his friend’s back like a swimmer off the pool wall.

While the man in the ring flips and threads through his hoop, the man in the straps flies beside him. Thanks to the push, physics draws them back together until they’re rebounding off each other like a Newton’s cradle. Both of them are light and slender, but their sinew flexes with each choreographed move.

Watching them somehow makes Mariam feel strangely feminine, which isn’t something she usually thinks much about. Between work and TV and sleep, she doesn’t spend much time on herself. Carmel is a hamlet, too far removed from the City for the Big Apple to tempt her and too insular to attract outsiders except for the accidental stranger passing through. She doesn’t have to doll herself up because there’s no one in town left to impress, but as the dexterous duo wheels above to a chorus of ruffling silk and clanking chains, she feels soft, pliable even. She wishes she’d had time to change out of her shift clothes or apply some lip gloss. Watching them perform makes her yearn to impress them the way they’ve all impressed her.

Her eyelids droop.

They’re so beautiful. They sail as though the ribbons and chains are merely there for decoration, as though the sky would be their playground with or without them. They might be aiming to make everyone laugh, but Mariam sees beyond that. It’s their artistry she’s swept up in—the way they flick not just their wrists but echo the motion straight through to their fingertips, the way they use every part of their body to sell a complete experience, the way their no doubt countless hours of rehearsal ensures their whimsy looks as effortless as it does unstudied.

The blue-haired man chokes up on one silk as he releases the other and wraps his foot in the chiffon. He spins. He twirls. He sails by his wrist. The ribbon fans like a cape beneath him.

But when he swings too close to his fellow performer, the redhead shoves him playfully out into space to send the blue-haired man arcing over the audience to a chorus of “oohs” and “ahs”. Seeking his revenge, the aerialist slips down the fabric to angle himself like a bullet with an aim for his fellow performer.

At the last moment, the man in the ring latches on to his friend’s wrist, and together, ring and ribbon twine through the air. They circle together before they push apart and rotate like two bodies caught in each other’s orbit. It’s beautiful. It’s hypnotic.

Mariam can’t get them out of her head. Of all the things she’s seen tonight, they ensorcel her every sense. They’re two fools bickering like brothers, but without the bounds of gravity, their playfulness becomes aerial ballet. She wants to be part of the fun.

The redhead climbs on top of his hoop, legs splayed around the supporting chain, and reaches for the chiffon. While he goes high, the blue-haired man goes low, grasping the ring. He looks up at his brother-in-air and pokes his tongue wickedly at the corner of his mouth.

The next thing Mariam knows, the hoop is white with frost, and with a yank, the blue-haired aerialist shatters the ring beneath the redhead’s legs. Frozen metal tinkles to the floor. The redhead grips his chain tighter now, but there’s vengeance in those calculating eyes, and he spins so fast, he looks like a tornado of fire.

His hand lashes out.

He grabs the ribbon supporting his friend’s foot.

Flame marches up and down the chiffon, and the blue-haired man barely has time to unwind his foot and leap to the second silk before the other ribbon is engulfed. It untethers at the loop above and drifts to the floor like a snake made of fire to coil messily beside the shattered hoop.

Both men hang by one hand. The set piece begins to lower, but their rivalry does not slow. Their feet bicycle as they kick each other like toddler brothers, and the room reverberates with laughter. They collide only to push off each other’s thighs, and when they swing back, their arms are outstretched—not for each other but for their opponent’s supports.

The pair stills in the air.

The redhead grips the silk above his friend’s hand, who also has hold of the chain now.

They look each other in the eyes, each confident they have the upper hand.

Chain crackles like a sheet of ice. Fire ignites like a burner.

Their eyes widen. Their cocky grins falter.

They fall.

The pair thunders to the floor, each landing on his own feet thanks to their cleverly choreographed descent. And then they descend into a playground slap fight like the fools they’re promoted to be, which sends Jooheon skittering to center ring to break it up.

The tent is shaking with the crowd’s laughter and applause. Mariam is already on her feet and whooping at the top of her lungs like she’s never done before.

Jooheon raises the redhead’s arm by the wrist and champions, “Minhyuk!”

He does the same to the blue-haired man next as he yells, “Changkyun!”

The crowd somehow gets louder.

“One more time, my friends, for all our distinguished performers!”

Out of the back comes the rest of the circus, including the Amorak and the perytons but thankfully no death worm. Together, everyone fills the ring, the ringmaster front and center. They bow in unison, even the animals, and when they rise, Mariam thinks it’s simultaneously the most ridiculous and most wonderful family she’s ever seen.

The crowd doesn’t seem to take a breath in its cheers. The stands might not be anywhere near packed, but no one would be able to tell because the heartfelt screams—and a couple of animalistic roars, she notes—fill the canvas to the brim.

Jooheon couldn’t look prouder. His dimples have never been deeper. His eyes are little arches. His pearly teeth glimmer. He glows not from the spotlights but from the praise.

“Thank you all for coming! From all of us at Le Cirque du Fantasme, you’ve been a terrific audience, and should our paths chance to meet again someday, we hope you’ll return for another round of unparalleled fantasies. Get home safely, everyone!”

The cheering continues even as the performers head backstage, and once they’re all gone, the guests begin to filter out, each murmuring to the other strangers. It’s clearer now that the lights have come up that the denizens of the big top couldn’t be more different. As far as Mariam can tell, she’s the only obvious human.

She lingers in the VIP box. She’s probably supposed to leave—it’s clear from Jooheon’s well-wishes that they’re all supposed to—and while she’s not afraid of the strange folk after such a show, she just doesn’t want to go.

She’s changed.

She’s not the same Mariam she was when she walked through those striped flaps. How can she go back to her boring, conservative, empty life knowing all that truly surrounds her? It’s like discovering that the world she always thought was flat has a third dimension.

The big top is empty now except for spilled cartons and other litter. Humongous paw prints dapple the dusty ring floor. Motes of dust drift through the beams of light, past the gently swaying extra cache of rings, ropes, and ribbons above.

With a deep, shaking sigh, Mariam resigns herself to her fate. Just as her hand lands on the swinging door to the box seats, the backstage curtains fling open, and the redhead, Minhyuk, and his blue-haired partner, Changkyun, enter.

“Finally!” exclaims Minhyuk in an exuberant voice. “Showtime is always the hardest when you can't open your mouth.”

“I think you’re the only one who suffers on that point,” Changkyun retorts in a much gravellier tone.

The pair take to sweeping up their torched and shattered mess as though they don't even realize they still have an audience, the redhead gabbing away to make up for lost time.

Mariam doesn’t say anything. She’s sure she’s not supposed to be here, and she worries they’ll ban her from ever coming back—not that she’s sure exactly where she is or how she got here. She ducks down a little before she catches herself in her own stupidity. There’s nowhere to hide.

Should she apologize? Hurry out? She could just tell them that their rhythmic aerial battling has stirred things in her that she never thought she’d feel, but that’s probably stupider than trying to hide.

The last act is still emblazoned in her mind when the ringmaster abruptly appears from the back. While the other two men work around the tent, he heads directly toward Mariam as though he never expected her to leave in the first place.

“Well, my dear, what did you think of the show?”

His lips look even fuller and juicier somehow. She’s drunk just on the way they purse and pucker.

“Unbelievable,” she breathes. “I don’t even know what to say about it.”

“And how has VIP been so far?”

Mariam cocks her head to the side. “So far?”

“Did you think your experience ended with the show?”

“Well, yeah.”

Jooheon chuckles. “For the pretty maid in the front row, I offer a truly once-in-a-lifetime upgrade free of charge.”

“What kind of upgrade?”

“Only the most exclusive kind. We’re going to custom build you a dream, my dear.”

Mariam squints. “I thought the circus was the new dream?”

“Well, thank you, but you forget that we took your best dream ever.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says with a blush and a scuff of her boot on the floor. She's getting a strange feeling from his burrowing gaze that she's missing something more important than she’s realized. “But since I don't remember what it is, how do I know you haven't already exceeded it? Tonight was amazing.”

“Trust me, we haven't traded in fair yet. We can do better because… it’s important to me that you remember tonight—and me—forever.” Jooheon smiles at her then, but it’s different than those other flamboyant smiles. This one is gentle and sincere.

“There’s no way I could forget,” she admits shyly.

He looks dubious, but he nods and offers his hand as he opens the VIP box door, too. “Let me see to it then.”

The moment Mariam’s hand slips into his, the ringmaster’s demeanor changes. He’s been the consummate showman all night, but he’s narrowed that influence of his tremendous power to her and her alone. The big top hasn’t changed, but as he leads her to the center of the ring, it’s all much more intimate now.

Jooheon squares up to her and smiles, this time with the faintest hint of a lip bite. His thumbs rub reassuringly over the back of her hands as he takes one step closer.

“We're going to make you the star of our show.”

#monsta x smut #le cirque du fantasme #october vibes #jooheon smut #minhyuk smut #changkyun smut #third person #trilogy

[teetlestansecond]

hear me out here, mayhaps rise!TMNT make a playlist that automatically puts their most listened to songs with their s/o or bestie but all the songs that the reader ends up adding from them is either depressing or "i slammed my penith in the car door" (btw really hopes this actually send tumblr mobile is sus sometimes jfjf)

this encouraged me to look at my spotify mixes with a few of my friends and the funniest thing is that my friend and i both have been playing edge of seventeen AND georgy porgy by toto so it’s safe to say we’re going through it out here rip

i used the wildest songs on my blended playlists for this do NOT ask me about my music taste

rise!turtles x emotionally unstable reader

gn!reader, no warnings just shenanigans courtesy of ya babe

Raph! ❤️

Raph listens to your blended playlist at least once a week, usually while he’s cleaning his room

because everyone knows the benefits of listening to music while cleaning. it’s the only way to push through cleaning a room

it’s a pretty chill playlist normally, but this week while Raph’s folding clothes he hears the waitress song “she used to be mine” for the first time and he has to take a second

he cries a little bit because everyone cries a little bit hearing that song, but after he gets over his own emotions he will be at your door and he won't be going away until you let him in so he can check on your wellbeing.

"heeyyyy y/n. i brought tissues. are you okay? are you sure? do you wanna talk about it i think we should talk about it -"

don't try and lie to him about it. if this song made it on the blend then you're simply not okay spare him the denial.

Leo! 💙

I fully believe that Leo listens to music all day every day. to hold the brain goblins at bay you know how it is.

he listens to the blend at least once a day and pays attention for any changes on your end because he's nosy like that. he's the friend that likes to see what his friends are listening to so he can make fun of them.

mostly he just leaves it at teasing but one time he does have to sit you down because your blended playlist has been adding more and more elton john songs but only the sad and nostalgic ones and it's all on your end and he's concerned.

he's especially concerned about elton john's hit song "Saturday Night's Alright (for Fighting)".

"y/n. are you fighting people on the weekends? without me? maybe i wanna fight people too i can't believe you're not including me in your fights-"

you have to convince him that, no, you aren't fighting people on saturday nights. does he believe you? no. are you telling the truth? you tell me bestie.

Donnie! 💜

Donnie mostly listens to his own music but he does periodically check your blended playlist just to get a glimpse into your mind.

he calls it a vibe check and you hate it but that's not going to stop him.

he checks up on your blend and finds all the sad hits like "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult, "I keep Forgettin'" by Michael MacDonald, and "Somebody You Loved" by Lewis Capaldi

naturally he calls you up to discuss the results of your vibe check and you hate it

"hello y/n I'm just calling to let you know that you have failed your latest vibe check and so I will be inviting myself over. do you want pizza or ice cream?"

you would find it touching if you weren't so annoyed by it. besides it's not like you're the only one failing the vibe check - Donnie's had cbat on your blend for weeks and you are mad about it

Mikey! 🧡

like Leo, Mikey also listens to your blend every day, he enjoys the mix of genres and songs.

but his favorite thing is when you listen to meme songs so much that they end up in your blend. he'll play the meme songs on repeat and sing them around you to tease you.

like that one time you had "here comes the hurricane legendary katrina" on the blend for a solid couple of weeks. Mikey still hasn't let that go.

anytime it gets cloudy out he gives you this mischievous grin and you beg him not to but he doesn't listen.

"you know what that looks like, y/n? the hurricane.... KATRINA!!!"

you smack his shoulder every time and he laughs like it's the funniest thing on earth.

#zennie answers! #these are short but that's because all of these were pulled from my own blends with people #looking @ my girlfriend babe please stop listening to cbat #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt headcanons #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt

[anotherkindofloveletters]

Drive My Car

Hi flowers! I really liked to write this one. I think y/n deserved a bit of fun after the last few chapters. ♥

tw: I don't think there are many, some swearing maybe. If you notice something let me know please. taglist: @honethatty12 @pleasantducktimetravell @hungryhungarian Please feel free to tell me if you want to join the taglist.

Sixth Chapter

gif is not mine - but a masterpiece from @kmagsy

Chapter 7 - Save Your Tears

“We are doing it and you are coming with us, no way you’re not.” Yuki screams out of y/n’s hotel door next to Pierre “C’mon it’ll be fun, it’s just a karaoke night.” insists the french, until y/n gives up and open up the door “Oh my you were already dressed up? Where were you going without us?” the japanese exclaims in shock “A café? To read?” y/n answers in full sarcasm mode, they both shake their heads and grab y/n by her arms and finally manage to leave the bulding heading to the Karaoke Bar. Yuki being japanese grew up around these kinds of places, so was already very excited to get drunk and sing many beautiful songs, with his terrible terrible voice.

Everyone on the team sings a song and it’s va lot of fun and y/n manages to take a lot of hilarious pictures, it’s eventually Pierre’s and Yuki’s turn and they decide to sing their masterpiece: Hello by Adele. Everytime it’s funnier than the previous one. Pierre looks at y/n while singing and she giggles almost blushing, trying to hide herself behind her analogic camera, whilst taking pictures of him. “Bravi!” y/n says clapping her hands “Thank you everybody, we are stars!” laughs Yuki clapping vividly.

The number of beers consumed was getting higher and higher and everyone by then was a little tipsy “y/n you’re the only one who hasn’t sung yet. You have to do it!” insists Yuki pushing her a little “Guys, c’mon, by myself?” she asks already blushing. “y/n, I know you can do it…” with those words, which sounded almost like a threath, Yuki meant that he sometimes heard y/n singing at home and she was not that bad and after his performance anyone could look good. After some convincing y/n gets up and choose Save Your Tears by the Weeknd. Everyone was chilling at the moment and she didn’t want to ruin the vibes, so she gets up shily and put herself in front of the tv with everyone behind her, which helped her not to die instantly of shame.

She starts to sing and everybody gets a bit more quiet, as if they heard something unexpected. After the first chorus, Pierre turns to Yuki speechless, he was smiling proudly of her and Pierre whispered “How is she so good at everything? I want to hear this everyday.” he then stole her camera to take some pictures of her singing as well. AT some point during the second half of the song, she decides to turn around and sees everyone mesmerised and cheering for her. She was moving a little following the rhythm of the song and Pierre couldn’t stop looking at her, seeing perfectly for the first time what Yuki really meant that day. She was bewtiching and amazing in every little move she made.

At the end of the song everyone bursts into a big applause and y/n blushed violently hiding herself behind her own arms, Yuki and Pierre gets up and hug her tightly with someone on the team taking a picture of that special moment. “When were you telling us you’re a fucking grammy winner?!” said Pierre smiling at her, hearing her chuckling into his arms “Stop it, guys, really it’s not that good” she almost whispers. They order another round of shots to celebrate “To finding new aspects of us everyday” cheered y/n before chugging her tequila shot.

“I really need the bathroom now” jokes y/n leaving the room after some other drinks and songs shared with her friends. Pierre gets in a corner of the room with Yuki “What now? Something happened?” asks Yuki super worried after being dragged away by his friend “No, calm down. I just think I realised something…” Yuki looks at Pierre a bit confused “I see it now, what you told me. How amazing she is and not just in a friendly way, but in I want to spend time alone with her way, I want to find out things she would never say to anyone, be there for her. Be the person she deserves. I mean, I think I like her like her.” Yuki listen to those words shaking his head “Oh no Pierre, she’s in the worst place right now! You know it! How can we do this and I don’t want to lose both of you. No no” “Yuki, calm down. I don’t want to make any steps now.” the japanese guys sighs “I'd love to see her happy and with you I swear, I can see the connection, but don’t even try to play games on her!” “Yuki, have you ever heard me talk about someone this way after Katherina?” he shakes his head “Here you go. She is special and I’d love for her to see me this way too… and I hope that happens soon.” Yuki and Pierre ends the conversation with an hug right before y/n comes back from the loo “There was a queue over there” she giggles getting back to the boys “Everything’s fine?” she asks seeing the two of them acting a bit weird. “Yes, of course, we were wondering if you just left us here” answers quickly the french guy. “Silly, I would never… tonight.” they all laugh and keep on having their nice evening, with Pierre not managing to keep his eyes off of her.

chapter 8

#short fic #f1 fan fiction #pierre gasly fan fiction #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly x yuki tsunoda #yuki tsuonda x reader #y/n and pierre gasly #pierre gasly x y/n #f1 x y/n #george russell x y/n #George Russell #Pierre Gasly #Yuki tsunoda #Alphatauri #alphatauri fic #pierre gasly x y/ndriver #pierre gasly x fem!driver #fem!driver #f1 imagine #pierre gasly imagine #yuki tsunoda imagine #george russell imagine #female!reader #pierre gasly x female!reader #pierre gasly #alphatauri #f1 fluff #pierre gasly fluff

[akamikazae]

Sorry in advance for asking all these things 😭 but first up, your oc is cool! She’s so stylish as heck! She gives me that 80s funky/chill vibe and her hair is flawless! And I adore for bond with sasuke so much, Ahh. Would it be ok to ask about their lore together? How did they meet and bond together like mother and son? (And kakashi too! He’s papa).

Plus, I also appreciate all the Sasuke positivity so much. From your drawings to random posts. It’s so refreshing and uplifting for me. There’s to much negativity for the poor kid these days. And I greatly respect the “my son!” Feeling to for sasuke. I to get that parent vibe haha (sasuke is little guy no matter what, must squish respectfully).

And for atla, if your oc and characters you like. What benders would they be? And if they are besties with any of the Alta crew?

-

P.s; i do Like seeing the snake positivity! It’s wonderful seeing that. Poor things also get bad rap as well. (I like seeing hognoses, they are cute!! Myself I wish I had one and tarantulas😭) ANYWAYS, TY FOR POSITIVE CONTENT SO MUCH. Be well and have a great day/night! Sorry again for the long ask!

Never ever be sorry for sending an ask! I love love getting them and getting to chat w lovely pals like you! So thank you for popping over to send me an ask ❤︎₊ ⊹  You are always welcome to ask about my lil fam! I will try to keep it short and sweet lol ₊⊹ Ahhh thank you so much for saying so, Akami is very very dear to me! I’m glad u think she’s got a bit of a retro vibe. I always see her fitting in well w that 90s-ish style from the 80s to the 00’s ! (I actually have a 90's au for them too)

Shisui was one of Akami's first childhood friends and later her first lil love. She goes w Shisui to meet Sasuke when she’s 13yr, he’s only a few weeks old but the second she holds him and his chubby baby hand swipes her chin she falls in love. Bc of her relationship with Shisui Akami spends more and more time around Sasuke— he’d be tagging along after the big kids, but she always made time for him. Even if it was 20 extra minutes before a mission or after a long day of training, she’d hide her injuries and play with him instead. She’s one of many Anbu called to the scene the night of the Uchiha massacre. The second she found him all alone she knew she was taking him home and she quit Anbu that night.  Akami never felt heard or seen as a child so she tries her best to make sure that Sasuke has a voice. She didn’t intend to take on a parental role; it just happened over the years. She’s always open about his family and ready to listen when he confides in her, she teaches him every single uchiha jutsu she knows (and eventually kakashi does too) so Sasuke can still feel connected to his Clan. She gets him through his nightmares and defends him tooth and nail, she teaches him how to cook and use a sword. No matter what, he's always gonna be her baby and she’ll be his Kami-chan. There is nothing she wouldn’t do for him.  Akami and Kakashi knew each other as kids, they did not get along until their traumas sort of forced them to see eye to eye and rely on each other.  But it wasn’t a friendship until their early-mid teens, even then it always felt like more. Shortly after she takes in Sasuke they start a tumultuous FWB only to realize they very obviously love each other. Sasuke approves bc Kakashi makes Akami happy and is always there for her (for better or worse) and Kakashi and Sasuke start to have a very meaningful connection well before he becomes his sensei.  Yes parent squad ! Sasuke deserves the world and I love that you love him too!!<3 In ATLA Akami would be a water bender, she’s a descendant of the Yuki clan so it just seems fitting for her heritage! Tho I’d be wary of her healing abilities, she’s more of a fighter and I would not put it past her to learn how to blood bend! (She was Anbu Root for a reason💀)  Sasuke is fire bb! Kakashi I go back and forth on but I think he would be fire too .I love love love love ATLA and have tried to make an au for her but I find it hard to imagine Akami interacting w the gang (They all just feel so young lol- though she’d probably like Suki and Zuko best) I think that she would get along really well with Piandao! June, Jet and Iroh too. She’d def feel some sort of kinship for Azula (ruthless + manipulative never taught to love, w similar mommy and daddy issues!🤝lol) Yes Yes! I love snakes, they are so beautiful !! When I made my oc I really wanted to have her be ostracized because of her father and resemblance so it’s so fun to play w both the beauty and monstrous qualities for her. 🐍Akami and her summons Ryū are based off of mangrove pit vipers and Copper bellied water snakes ! Thank you again for the ask! I could blab about them all day if my super long winded response wasn’t proof lol 💕💕Take care my dear and have lovely day and or night :)

#ask #thanks for the ask ! #lovely moots 💕 #my very long winded answer to go with my very long winded long fic --lol kaz doesn't know how to keep things short and sweet but I tried !! #oc: akami #Sasuke #kakashi #the lil fam <3 #aether-link

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 05 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2296 | ao3 link

He planted a soft kiss on the palm of my hand, holding it gently but firmly. I couldn't help but notice that he always treated me that way— as if I could shatter at the slightest touch. Maybe that's why I felt safer with him every day. He understood me, no judgment. I saw a side of him that others seemed not to notice. It felt like a fair trade to me.

✦ on this chapter: oc is cliff's cousin, +18, slice of life, romance, fluff, drinking, sexually inexperienced oc, dave mustaine x female!oc, kissing (a lot), found family vibes

✧ fade into you, strange you never knew ✧

I took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of freshly made popcorn that filled the kitchen, a mix of satisfaction and mild boredom washing over me. It was one of those rainy Sunday nights and for the first time ever since I moved I found myself home alone. Cliff and the guys had headed out to another show, and I knew they'd end up hitting a bar afterwards. But since I had a job starting the next day, I decided to play it responsible for once. So, here I was, winding down the weekend with a bowl of popcorn and a stack of movie tapes that Cliff had lent me. I tried my best to ignore the nagging feeling that I'd much rather be out there having fun with Cliff, Lars, James, and Dave.

With the popcorn bucket in hand, I plopped onto the couch in the living room. I glanced at the small pile of movies, contemplating which one to indulge in for the night. A frown crept onto my face as I noticed that most of them fell into the horror genre: The Shining, Night of the Living Dead, Black Cat. It seemed Cliff's taste in movies still leaned towards spooky. I couldn't help but wonder if it was a wise choice to dive into those on a quiet Sunday night, all by myself at home.

I pondered over whether I should opt for the less scary looking cover or just give up altogether and tune into a mindless game show when I heard a knock at the door. A tiny yelp escaped my lips, followed by an immediate blush. Seriously, getting scared while watching horror movies is one thing, but getting spooked before even choosing one? What a dummy.

I got up and made my way to the door, opening it to show Dave standing there, drenched from the rain and looking slightly drunk. I let out a small exclamation of surprise as he strode into the room with big steps, cupping my face in his hands and planting a passionate kiss on my lips. Well, talk about unexpected. The taste of beer lingered as he pulled me closer, his arms holding me firmly.

"Dave," I chuckled, a bit taken aback, against his lips, "what are you doing here? I thought you were heading to the bar with everyone after the concert."

"Nah, it was too boring there without you," he grumbled, easing back a bit and flashing a smile as his thumb traced along my lower lip. I blushed, my heart fluttering like crazy, just like it always did when he got this close. "We've been kinda distant lately, haven't we? You avoiding me or something?"

"No way," I replied, hesitating for a moment before adding, "I'd never avoid you."

But truth be told, he had a point. Over the past few days, our paths hadn't crossed as frequently as before. Part of it was because he took up a side gig at a local mechanic shop to help with the bills. Between band rehearsals, gigs, and the hustle of daily life, there was barely any time left for us to be together.

I realized I had missed that, though — just chilling with him, sharing a beer and a smoke in conversations that inevitably ended in kisses. Ever since he had first kissed me, it had been near impossible to not find myself wrapped up in his embrace whenever we were together.

"Well," he said, breaking the kiss for just a moment before kissing me again. I let out a contented sigh as he pulled me closer, his lips leisurely exploring mine. "I wanted some alone time with you, but the others were always lingering around. So this time, I left them there and came to see you. But if you want me to go..."

I couldn't ignore the happiness bubbling up inside me. I was starting to feel like I could resist him less and less each time we were together. Not that I was trying, anyway.

"No, stay," I whispered, locking eyes with his warm brown gaze. He smiled softly and placed his hand on my cheek, planting gentle kisses on my lips, then my cheek, then my neck.

"Wanna go to my room?" he whispered, his lips grazing my skin. I nodded, and he smiled as he took my hand, leading me upstairs.

He didn't even bother flicking on the lights as he closed the door, pulling me closer to his body. He kissed me again, fiercely, passionately, his lips meeting mine with a raw hunger that caught me off guard. A soft moan escaped my lips as his hand firmly gripped my butt, his teeth leaving marks on the skin of my neck. My heart raced, taken aback by his newfound intensity; he had never touched me like this before. It was as if he was desperate to have me in his arms, as if all the kisses we had exchanged so far were nowhere near enough.

He took off his shirt, and I shivered as he laid me down on the bed, the weight of his body on top of mine. His right hand reached for my waist, gripping it tightly as he kissed me. I felt my body heat up more and more. All I wanted was to let him explore my entire body with his eyes, with his hands, with his tongue — but I couldn't do that knowing I was sober and he was drunk, even if just lightly. This isn't right, I thought.

"Dave, you're drunk," I whispered, my hand resting on his chest as I gently nudged him away. He grunted.

"So what?"

"I... I don't know if I'm up for it with you like this," I blushed. "Will you even remember any of this tomorrow?"

He sighed but smiled at me as he lay beside me and pulled me close, his arm draped around my waist.

"And you think I'd forget?" He planted kisses on my shoulder and then my neck. I shivered, using all my strength not to pull him back on top of me right there. "You want it too, don't you?" His grip on my thigh tightened, and he kissed me on the lips once more. "I would never do anything you don’t want to, Nore, but damn... You're gonna drive me crazy like this."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not really knowing what to say. He was right; I wanted it so bad, more than I was ready to admit. It was tough to resist my desires in that moment; if he pushed just a little harder, I wouldn't be able to deny him anything he wanted from me.

But he didn't push; I let out a sigh as he ran his fingers through my hair, planting gentle, tender kisses on my lips.

"Sometimes I forget you've never done shit like this before," he confessed, then kissed my cheek. "I've never felt like this, Nore. And I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to be a jerk. I want to do things the right way."

I softly caressed his face, allowing my fingertips to trace his lips. I was slowly beginning to realize that alcohol, before making him aggressive, made him brutally honest. But that wasn't so bad; I liked this side of him.

He planted a soft kiss on the palm of my hand, holding it gently but firmly. I couldn't help but notice that he always treated me that way—as if I could shatter at the slightest touch. Maybe that's why I felt safer with him every day. He understood me, no judgment. I saw a side of him that others seemed not to notice. It felt like a fair trade to me.

He pulled me closer again, his lips finding their way to my neck.

"I just really wanted to keep kissing you," he whispered, his breath tickling my skin. "Can I?"

Instead of answering, I simply kissed him, my arms wrapping around his neck as he settled on top of me once again. He let out a contented sigh, his tongue gently exploring my mouth, and I melted under his touch. He was everywhere: his body, his hands, his hair, his scent enveloping me completely. In that moment, I wanted him so much that I could barely breathe —  I only wished he felt the same.

I’m not sure I could bear it if he didn’t.

I allowed myself to stay there, in his arms, as he kissed me all over — my lips, my cheeks, my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone. I felt like I could stay there forever, completely surrendered to him. Eventually, we settled down and he pulled me close, allowing me to rest my head on his chest as he gently stroked my hair and my face.

"How was your day?" I finally broke the silence. He chuckled softly.

"Pretty dull, to be honest. But hey, at least I made some cash. And drank beer. Oh, and," I could hear the smile in his voice as he talked, " I hung out with this amazing girl who happens to be a friend's cousin, " I couldn’t help but giggle softly upon hearing that, lifting my head to meet his gaze. He smiled at me.

"And what about yours?"

"It was good. Didn't really do much , but James tried to teach me how to play the guitar."

He furrowed his brow slightly at my words.

"Don't you think you've been spending too much time with James?" he asked, his voice tinged with a touch of jealousy. I blinked in surprise. "I can teach you, you know. I'm a better player than him anyway," he added, sounding a bit cocky. I burst into laughter.

"Dave, you were busy. I didn't want to bother," I replied. He huffed.

"You're never a bother. Besides, I enjoy hanging out with you," he kissed my forehead. "We've got rehearsal tomorrow, but if you want, I can teach you some songs afterward."

"Sounds good," I smiled. The idea of spending even a little time with him excited me.

I stayed there, lying in his embrace, as we continued talking in hushed voices. At some point, the rain grew stronger. I knew it was a bit chilly, but having Dave's body against mine provided enough warmth. It was so cozy and comfortable that I thought I could stay there forever. I yawned, feeling sleep starting to take over, but I didn't have the strength or desire to get up and go to my own room. Instead, I simply closed my eyes and drifted off, feeling safe in his arms for the first time.

The next day, I woke up in Cliff's bed. I looked around, a bit confused. I was all by myself in the room, and I couldn't remember how I ended up there. I wondered if Dave had carried me there after I fell asleep, and my cheeks turned slightly red. I got up and closed the bedroom door to change before heading out to the living room, where Lars and Cliff were chilling on the couch, talking to each other.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," Cliff greeted sarcastically, extending his arm toward me. I took his hand, and he planted a kiss on it, grinning at me. "You sure know how to get your beauty rest for someone who decided to lay low on a Sunday night, don't you think?"

"Good morning to you too, Cliff," I replied with a smile. Well, at least he seemed oblivious to the fact that I had crashed in Dave's arms last night. I could only imagine the teasing I'd get if he found out; I guess I owed Dave one in the end.

"Cliff whipped up some eggs and bacon. They're in the kitchen if you're up for it," Lars chimed in.

"Sweet! Thanks," I replied, making my way to the kitchen.

I was helping myself to breakfast when I heard the front door swing open. I looked up and spotted James and Dave strolling in, each carrying bags of beers and a bottle of vodka.

"Good morning," Dave greeted, sidling up to the kitchen counter, wrapping his arm around my waist, and planting a sweet kiss on my forehead. I couldn't help but smile.

James put the beer bags onto the counter and grabbed a couple bottles. He handed one over to me with a grin.

"Breakfast is served," he said ceremoniously, and I let out a soft chuckle. Beer for breakfast had become a running joke among the three of us after I noticed how they always had one after waking up. He passed another beer to Dave, taking a few more for himself, Cliff, and Lars. Dave cracked open his beer, taking a sip before setting the bottle on the counter. He cupped my chin in his hand and kissed me gently on the lips.

��Did you sleep well?” he asked, and I nodded. He smirked playfully and leaned in close to my ear, whispering, "If you ever want to pick up where we left off yesterday, just give me a heads up, alright?"

"Dave!" I giggled shyly. He chuckled along and took another sip of his beer.

"Come on, let's go join the others."

I grabbed my beer and the plate of breakfast, following him back to the living room where we all gathered. James picked up his guitar and started strumming some tunes, occasionally bouncing ideas off the others while I sat between Cliff and Dave, listening intently. After a month of living together, these moments of easy camaraderie among the five of us had become more frequent, and I felt genuinely happy there, like I had rarely felt before.

#ada writes fanfiction #heartbreaker fanfic #metallica #megadeth #james hetfield #dave mustaine #cliff burton #lars ulrich #metallica fanfiction #dave mustaine x oc #dave mustaine fanfiction #nore burton (oc) #hello hello hello it's heartbreaker day!!

[floralcyanide]

The Extra || Austin Butler x OC

Chapter Thirteen (nsfw)

Pairing: Austin Butler x OC

Warnings: smut (minors dni please!), choking, unprotected sex, that's it really.

Word Count: 1508

>> ahhhhh it's been like 3 weeks since the last update. I've had most of this chapter written but then I added the last bit this morning because I know I need to update. I've been busy with kinktober and have lowkey neglected this story lol but only two more chapters and then the epilogue left! please let me know if you all enjoy this chapter. I know it's short but a lot is going to happen in the last chapters.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Add yourself to the taglist HERE

Looking back, there were instances when I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I never thought acting would bring me so much joy. I thought being an extra was good enough for me and that it made me happy. But I have never known happiness like getting to become someone else and portray someone’s story, whether they’re real or not. Becoming Priscilla Presley has been an honor and a privilege I never thought I’d ever experience. And getting to know Austin on a deeper level because of our roles has changed everything. Simply being in the movie itself has changed everything because now I have a possible career in acting, and I’ve reconnected with the love of my life. I realized that being an extra has caused issues, but it has also caused opportunities I could’ve never dreamed of. 

Austin and I are closer than ever now that we work and live together more constantly. It can be challenging to do so- and it very much is- but I wouldn’t change a thing. Even if we get frustrated with each other or sometimes go home and go straight to bed without a word. However, after filming a particularly vigorous performance or an emotionally charged scene, uneventful nights are made up for. We’ve almost gotten caught a few times in one of our dressing rooms and even the unassuming janitor’s closet, but it was worth it every time. Austin is worth anything and everything to me.

The awkwardness with Luke has subsided, thankfully, and I can now look him in the eye when we speak to each other. We’re still the good friends we were before he addressed that he liked me. Dacre and I are still close, and we crack jokes and pull the occasional harmless pranks on our co-stars when possible. Tom and I speak to each other daily at the coffee stand and often complain about how stale the coffee is, but we drink it anyway. Olivia visits the set when she can and gives me pointers on how to position myself in a specific scene. Sometimes she reminds me to relax my shoulders. I’ve even warmed up to Xavier Samuel, who plays Scotty, one of Elvis’ band members from The Blue Moon Boys. He’s a chill guy and reminds me to smile every once in a while. At first, I was a little weirded out by that, but now I know that’s just how he is. He brings a lively vibe to the set and ensures everyone is in a good mood. If you aren’t, Xavier will go out of his way to ensure you are.

I’m so grateful to have met everyone I’ve worked with, from fellow extras like Tyler all the way to legendary Tom Hanks. All the people in Elvis are talented, and I couldn’t have asked for better people to be surrounded by. The scenes I’ve filmed so far have gone very well, and I managed to remember my lines when I needed to. I’m excited to see how everything turns out when the movie finishes. On another note, Austin has been doing better emotionally. I think he spoke with Baz about how he felt about the method acting, and they resolved it. He no longer comes home with puffy eyes and doesn’t ignore me after tough days of filming.

There have been so many times throughout filming where I had realizations. The moment I realized that acting is what I want to do permanently, if possible, was when I was filming the scene where Elvis and Priscilla were in Elvis’ bedroom overseas. The way the lines felt so carefree and easy to articulate and how simple it was to be Priscilla made me come to the conclusion. Even though Baz thought our kiss wasn’t passionate enough every few takes, every time I kissed Austin, I became more and more relaxed in my role. The final take was flawless, and I was so proud of how it came out.

We’re currently filming the last moments of the first Vegas performance and are about to begin another take of the whole sequence. Jerry accidentally misstepped and nearly tripped in the shot, so we had to go again. But if I’m honest, I don’t think this scene will need any retakes, not right now, at least. Austin has been putting every bit of energy he has into this performance, and with it being so high-octane, we can only film it a handful of times today. For the second time, Baz calls for action. I watch in awe as Austin sings I Can’t Help Falling in Love, thrusting out his arms toward the crowd of extras along to the beat of the orchestra. The amount of love and pride I have for him is untouchable. He has peaked in his life and career, and I couldn’t be happier for him. We have so much history, chemistry, and love between us, and I hope that after filming ends, those things don’t end either. Austin tells the audience goodbye and is crouched on the floor of the stage, panting and sweating profusely as he drops the curtain. I wait for him to take a few scripted moments before he walks over to me. I feel I’m almost breaking character when complimenting and expressing how amazing he was. Because in real life, the take we just did was phenomenal. I’ve never seen Austin work so passionately and so hard before. When he grabs my chin and looks me in the eyes lovingly, I realize I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Not because he is incredibly hot while sweaty and high on adrenaline, but because he puts his all into everything he does. Including our relationship, even if it jump started again in a rocky fashion. 

At the beginning of filming Elvis, if you had told me I’d be dating my ex again and were going to become a main character instead of an extra, I would’ve laughed in your face. A good, wholehearted, genuine laugh. I was always an extra, nothing more, nothing less. I would never give Austin another chance. But I’ve grown so much since then. I no longer naively believe I don’t need to advance in my career, and I’m no longer lying about my feelings for Austin, both negative and positive. Not only is Austin at the peak of his life, but I’m at the peak of mine. I hope we can share that glowing high together. 

And we do, but the high is off the success of the Vegas scene. We share it in a way that we probably shouldn’t while on set, but all caution is thrown to the wind right now as Austin, carefully and as quickly as possible, removes my dress. I silently thank my stylist for being so good at gluing wigs down because this is going to be quick and rough. We’re in Austin’s dressing room, and I’m shoved onto the vanity in nothing but my underwear. Austin manages to peel off his jumpsuit from the shoulders to the waist, allowing him to spring free. He doesn’t give it a second thought before he pulls off my underwear and plunges into me, his fingers pressing into the underside of my thighs for leverage. My arms wrap around Austin’s neck, pulling him as close to me as possible. We don’t tear our eyes away from each other as he thrusts into me quickly. I have to bite my lip to keep quiet so no one outside the room can hear us.

Austin wraps a hand around my throat, and I grip his wrist, trying not to cum just yet. His hips pound into my thighs, and his hand sneaks between us to circle my clit. My eyes roll into the back of my head at the feeling, the dizzying effect of the choking mixing with it. Austin swivels his hips in a particular direction, causing him to hit deeper inside me. I feel him twitch, and he quickens his pace on my clit. Austin finally cums with a low grunt, and the warmth of him spilling into me sends me into overdrive. I take him for all he has as I come down from my high, his hand releasing my throat.

“That was so good,” I breathed out with a laugh, running a hand over my wig to ensure it was still in place.

“You’re so good, babe,” Austin teases with a smile, and I shake my head as I hop off the vanity.

I retrieve my clothing and put it back on as Austin pulls his jumpsuit back onto his body. There’s a knock on the door, and a producer yells to Austin that he’s needed back on set. We share a look before giggling at each other.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Austin says, smoothing out his outfit and ensuring his hairpiece is also in place.

It’s days on set like this that I’m going to miss.

taglist:

@onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @mesbouquins @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @beautyofelvis @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @presleylust @oh-kurva @cece05 @poppet05 @every-dayiwakeup 

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler x oc #austin butler x oc smut #austin butler fanficiton #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x reader smut #austin butler elvis #austin!elvis #elvis #elvis movie #elvis film #elvis 2022 #elvis (2022) #the extra fanfic #floralcyanide writes

[weirdprophetess]

been seeing people talk about Ethel Cain a lot and had chills the entire time i watched her perform Morning Elvis with Florence so I'm playing Preacher's Daughter for the first time and writing notes as I go

fair warning this is an incredibly long post

first of all i have to say i love this album cover the dark warm browns are gorgeous and really give off that rural small town vibe and i read a few articles about her so i know she grew up in a place like that and the album title is describing her because her dad was a deacon of the church her and her family grew up in

the basssss the bass starting family tree ooooooohhhhh i love that

these crosses all over my body remind me of who i used to be and christ forgive these bones im hiding from no one successfully jesus can always reject his father but he cannot escape his mothers blood W H A T

THE BEATSSS THEYRE SO DARK AND DRAMATIC AND ATMOSPHERIC IM SCREAMING IM ONE MINUTE IN AND THIS IS MAYBE THE BEST ALBUM INTRO IVE EVER HEARD

my brain chemistry has already been altered i instantly need this on vinyl

loveee the guitar starting off american teenagerrrrrr

the suspended vocalization tooooooo)(U*U@PIHF@

i love love love her voice its so rich and she does deep and high notes both so amazingly welllllllll screaming

the melody the flow of the lyrics the beat the synthy floaty sounds im deadddd i love thissss i want to rip it apart like soft hot bread and eat ittttt

SAY WHAT YOU WANT BUT SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT WITH YOU F I S T S FOR ONCE

MAIN CHARACTER TYPE SONG I LOVE THE IRONY I LOVE TEH SADNESS IM GOING TO WALK AROUND TO THIS SO MUCH THAT IS ONE OF THE HIGHEST HONORS I CAN GIVE A SONG @mothercain YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE BITCHHHH

I HAVE FINISHED TWO SONGS AND ITS ALREADY MY NEW PERSONALITY TIME TO HYPERFIXATE FOR MONTHS AND LET IT TAKE OVER THIS WHOLE FUCKING BLOG

THE SUSPENDED PIANO NOTES FOR HOUSE IN NEBRASKA???? Y E S

THE ECHOEY VOCALS MAKE ME INSANE IM CLAWING AT THE WALLS RENDING MY GARMENTS GNASHING MY TEETH OH MY GODDDDDD

I STILL CALL HOME THAT HOUSE IN NEBRASKA WHERE WE FOUND EACH OTHER IN A DIRTY MATTRESS ON THE SECOND FLOOR WHERE THE WORLD WAS EMPTY SAVE YOU AND I WHERE YOU CAME AND I LAUGHED AND YOU LEFT AND I CRIED WHERE YOU TOLD ME EVEN IF WE DIED TONIGHT THAT ID DIE YOURS

YOU KNOW I STILL WAIT AT THE EDGE OF TOWN PRAYING STRAIGHT TO GOD THAT MAYBE YOULL COME BACK AROUND I HAVE FULL BODY CHILLSSSSSS

THE ROCK GUITAR SMASHING IN AND BEING SO CRUNCHY GODDDDDDDDD

He's never looked more beautiful on his Harley in the parking lot breaking into the ATMs sleeping naked when it gets too hot from what ive heard people say about Lana Del Rey's music this sounds like she might've been an influence

show me how much i mean to you while im lying in these sheets undressed id hold the gun if you ask me to but if you love me like you say you do would you ask me to troubles always gonna find you baby but so will i crying only because im happy hold me across every state line im never gonna leave you baby even if you lose whats left of your mind cause you know ill be right there beside you riding through those western nights

ooh there's another song called family tree the first one was family tree (intro) but there's track five without (intro) delicious

oohhhhhooohohoho same first two lines but then new lyrics

give myself up to him in offering let him make a woman out of me ooooh hoo hoo hooooo

so family tree is a banger

i immediately thought emo cowboy on hearing those lyrics and google actually gave me that so thank you whoever made this image because its truly the essence of this album

the next one is hard times and the first thing i thought of was paramore ive been obsessed with that song lately

nine going on eightaayynn lay it on meeeeeeheeeeheeeee yessssss

im tiiiiired of you too tiiiiired to leave im tiiiired of you still tiiiiied to meeeee

I MET YOU THERE IN TEXAS

MY ASS WHO LIVES IN TEXAS👀👀👀

i met you there in texas somewhere on the thoroughfare on the side of the road with a pistol in my pocket i didnt trust no one but you said baby dont run ill take you anywhere

AND YOU SAID HEY DO YOU WANNA SEE THE WEST WITH MEEEHEEEEEE CAUSE LOVES OUT THERE AND I CANT LEAVE IT BEEEEEE AND I SAID HONEY LOVES NEVER MEANT MUCH TO ME BUT ILL COME WITH YOU IF YOURE SURE ITS WHAT YOU NEED

love love lovvveeeeee the beat that comes in a bit before that part

sad cowgirl winter lets go girls

i am halfway through this album and ive made more notes than i have for some albums twice the length thats how good 13 track albums always are

its not a real cowboy album if youre not spending the last two minutes of a nine and a half minute song just vocalizing

oh the nexts songs called gibson girl ive heard of that but i forgot what it is hang on

a type of drawing by a man named Charles Gibson of the ideal woman of the 1890s ooh should be interesting

the intro for this songgggg

the production is the fucking besttttt

the echoes for this one too yesss i love this shitttt

i dont even know what image to put this over but just youre all the same black leather and dark glasses pourin another while i shake my ass hes cold blooded so it takes more time to bleed obsession with the money addicted to the drugs says hes in love with my body thats why hes fucking it up

the guitar breakkkkkkk:PO(*&^%$^;l;pqokpiaw

next ones name is ptolemaea so lemme go look that up too

oh yeahhh that greek astrologer dude okay

ooh the distortion in the beginningggg

the intensity building is so horror-like i love it

the screech on the last stop made me jump a lil goodbye

I am the face of loves rage what the fuck

the guitar and drums all getting more intense after that line remind of of the end of I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers ill take ten million more songs with that please

the entire ending um???

its a good thing i decided to listen to this album around noon and not the middle of the night because i love demonic speaking parts but not when my eyes arent adjusted to the dark girl

ooh august underground is an instrumental i went to look up the lyrics and apparently its named after a horror film trilogy so ill probably check that out soon

televangelism is also purely instrumental and genius says its ethels ascent to heaven as music god this sounds gorgeous

what i wouldnt give to be in church this sunday listening to the choir so heartfelt all singing god loves you but not enough to save you so good luck on your own baby so i said fine cause thats how my daddy raised if they strike one once then you just hit em twice as hard but in the end the fire bent under the weight they gave me and this heart would break and fall twice as far eating these lyrics

WE ALL KNOW HOW IT GOES THE MORE IT HURTS THE LESS IT SHOWS BUT I STILL FEEL LIKE THEY ALL KNOW AND THATS WHY I COULD NEVER G O BACK HOME E T H E L THERE IS NO NEED TO EXPOSE ME LIKE THIS???

SO I MET HIM THERE AND TOLD HIM I BELIEVE SINGING IF ITS MEANT TO BE THEN IT WILL BE AND I FORGIVE IT ALL AS IT COMES BACK TO ME IM STILL PRAYING FOR THAT HOUSE IN NEBRASKA BY THE HIGHWAY OUT ON THE EDGE OF TOWN DANCING WITH THE WINDOWS OPEN I CANT LET GO WHEN SOMETHINGS BROKEN ITS ALL I KNOW AND ITS ALL I WANNA KNOW

one more song i have no idea what to say

freezer bride, your sweet divine look i have been obsessed with the locked tomb for over a year im not going to NOT think of Alecto when i see this

when my mother sees me on the side of a carton in winn-dixie's dairy aisle like the one promo picture for this right

and arlington's in texas👀👀👀

f.inisheddd thea lbum(*&#!OHPI#!HFo

wow what the hell was that im going to obsess over it forever

if there is not a colored vinyl of this i am going to fucking murder someone this deserves something gorgeous for me to stare at while its playing

in conclusion i cannot in any way let my religious mother know im trying to get this album so im going to work with my friend who helps me get explicit/gay music my mom wont let me because spotifys alright but i need to listen to this on my little portable cd player with headphones on full blast on the floor in the middle of the night because truly every album experience is better that way but especially shit like this

ethel if youre reading this how the everloving FUCK is this your debut album this literally deserves a grammy we all know they havent been shit for a while but if you dont get one for this im going to maul the entire Academy for real. keep doing weird shit i literally heard about you from Morning Elvis with Florence, my number one weird music woman and her taste has not failed me yet, especially not after an hour of being immersed in this

#ethel cain #hayden anhedönia #preachers daughter #mother cain #southern gothic #southern gothic aesthetic #my post

[the-saltwaterselkie-writer]

Realized while looking at my ao3 profile that my dc/gotham fic is incredibly disorganized, so for the benefit of myself and anyone interested, here’s a quick link + summary to all of my dc fics thus far:

Harlivy-centric

Tennessee Ham and Strawberry Jam (67.8k): Country-murder-song-inspired + Southern Harlivy AU. Vibes similar to Fried Green Tomatoes with elements of mystery. Loosely inspired by Harley & Ivy’s origin stories, plot is complete and wraps up in a little bow. This fic is the high school theatre kid who tripped and made it to Broadway.

Once Bitten, Twice Kissed (43.8k): Supernatural Harlivy AU (think vampires, witches, etc.) Pace is a little slower than THaSJ and it takes a few chapters of developing an atmosphere to get going, so if that’s your thing, give it a go. Fairly creepy and has a strong dose of mystery/secrets revealed as you read. Plot is complete. The goth sibling of my Harlivy fics.

Harlequin’s Isle (17.5k): Canonverse Harlivy, stranded on a desert island fic. Picks up when Harley and Ivy have been going strong as a couple for a while, so they’re firmly established. Some hurt/comfort, mostly lighthearted with a strong dash of badassery. Vibes of a standalone Harlivy comic story, plot is complete. This is the last of the current trio of longer Harlivy fics. This fic is the wacky cousin who dyes her hair every two weeks.

A History of Handcuffs (1.6k): Very Arkham-era Ivy-centric, but leans into a take on Harley and Ivy’s first meeting. Based on a fantastic @mataurin sketchdump linked in the fic. This fic wears sunglasses and leather.

Such a Lonely Word (0.5k): A ficlet of a tense moment and a few whispered words between Harley and Ivy. This fic is a crisp apple slice.

Other DC fics:

Canary in the Thorns (4.7k): A deeply self-indulgent, canon-adjacent take on a hookup between Poison Ivy and Black Canary in their civilian identities, plus the aftermath when they realize exactly whom they slept with. I will acknowledge that IvyDinah is a dinghy as a ship but here it is regardless. This fic’s the wine aunt chilling out in the corner.

Reckless to Care (0.8k): A snippet of an adventure and bonding moment between Cass and Babs. More of a dip into the Batfam. (note: Bruce and Selina pop up with major roles in THaSJ and OBTK if that’s more your speed.) This fic is a steaming cup of tea on a rainy night.

#will update if needed. #given that this is mostly organizational for me #please excuse the funky last line of each summary #it helps me keep the vibes straight #also just want to add that if you're ever looking for a spoiler #(e.g. is there a happy ending/does this trigger show up/etc) #feel free to dm and i'll letcha know #also #uh #can you guess what ship really does it for me #or does the 131k i've written for 'em give it away #harlivy #harley quinn/poison ivy #harlivy fanfic #harlivy fanfiction #harley x ivy #Poison Ivy x Harley Quinn #poison ivy/harley quinn #poison ivy #harley quinn #fanfiction recommendation #fanfiction #ao3 recs #my fics #saltwaterselkie #ivydinah #gotham city sirens #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #it's a bird it's a plane it's a queue

[lightofunova]

DONT MIND IF I DO i arrive precisiely on time like im pepsi man, and you cant expect pepsi man of all people to be anonyous

where do i START? thats the greatest hurdle thats been presented to me today. and, you know, as i send this, ive kind of come to a realization.. that, like??? 99% of our conversations are via my streams, and i feel like thats FUCKED UP thats my bad and i apologize for that. i need to make an effort to DM more because you are such a bright light!!! literally every time youve ever popped in, said hello and gone to work; every time you helped me in pokemon; or kept company on drawings- its the highlight of the day!!!!!

youre so exquisitely yourself, you know?

youre like... i dont know if this metaphor is gonna resonate with you, but youre like when theres a really tough day. the universe is testing you, and youre tired. you go, you sit down, and you pick up a familiar game where just its sight brings you comfort. resting back, you alight the game, and you just.. enjoy. thats what your energy is like. your presence is a comfort, and you brighten the day. youre good. youre just really good. thank you for being in this community and allowing us to partake in this silly adventure we call askblogging

also, i try to not play favorites, but bah gawd, reshi is definitely up there as one of my all times. such a great character whom i love unconditionally. youve done well, and i cant wait to enjoy more of the story you wish to tell, and i really appreciate the effort you put into it. its a delight and a blessing to enjoy your content. thank you again

NDJFJDBSBSB YOURE TOO KIND HONESTLY- Ill be honest sometimes I really dont feel like I deserve such sweet words from others haha, when I first read this I thought that for a moment. But honestly this really resonated with me once I reread it, it means alot to be surrounded by such amazing people who see me in such a wonderful light and enjoy me just being me? Sometimes I get worried that me being me feels kinda like,,,a third wheel LOL or like my ideas arnt as interesting or cool as others. But its people like you that really help build me up and get past all that.

Honestly seeing you stream can be such a highlight to my day and it gives me something to listen to while I’m busy drawing or going about my morning! Even thought we don’t talk in dms too much, it makes me happy to chat on stream and just chill cus the vibes are always immaculate haha.

And honestly oml the metaphor is just too kind 🥹🥹🥹 I completely know what you mean XD i’ve been there so many times myself and have done it alooot the past few days(hgss shiny hunting rn, no luck on starters so far haha) But gah you’re too kind honestly, It always makes me so happy that people like reshi in all her silly forms and aus(i feel i saturate her alot in some places and that sometimes people get sick of her,,,shes my main child im sorry LOL i play favs) but knowing people love her honestly make me giddy and happy because it makes me feel like I can craft a story with her or make a game with her. It makes my dream feel real, yaknnow??

Anyways i’ll stop ramblin haha you’ve made my night so much better esp after a tougg shift and I just appreciate it so much, thank you for everything truly

#also late happ borth im sorry i missed it waaaa #mod #dl #ooc #tired mod tired #but gushin about ocs is fun #today was tough but it was good #im making it through everything 💙💙💙

[paranoiddreams]

BTS meet cute: Min Yoongi

Min Yoongi x Fem!OC

Masterlist | Other members |

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, depression, and medication. Also includes mentions of drinking alcohol to self soothe. Other than that just pure fluff!

Word count: 2.5k

Listen to while reading!

An: Hello! Im back with another meet cute for my manz Yoongles. He gives me so much book store vibes so I had to write this. The song linked also reminds me of him a lot. I hope you enjoy this one and thank you for the likes on my last one!!! The next one is going to be Jimin 👀

-Ghøst

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Sunlight pours onto my face, nearly blinding my unprotected eyes. The curtains I’d very clearly remembered closing last night had been thrown open by the woman standing next to them.

“Wake up beautiful!”

Ash’s voice is shockingly loud at this time, causing me to pull the covers over my head. But, of course they’d been yanked away from me.

“You need to get up and go out! Find some hot people to mingle with,” she says pulling me by my arm. My hair resembles a birds nest, and dried drool crusts at the side of my mouth. Id been in bed for a generous amount of time, the clock reading 10:57.

“Why are you screaming right now?” I ask my voice raspy from sleep.

“Are you hungover?”

Before I Can protest, she grabs my face with both of her hands and stretches my skin to open my droopy eye lids.

She is right, I am very much hungover. I hadn’t gone out to a club, or party last night. I wish I had because the sad truth is I had drank almost a whole bottle of red wine.

“You are,” she lets go of my face, and my fingers rub both of my temples “y/n, you need to get out! Go have fun without alcohol.”

The suggestion has me flopping back onto the bed with a groan.

Ash and I have been friends since freshman year of high school. She’d always been the rebellious teenage girl, while I was the straight A book worm. Now although, the roles have reversed.

Ash is a successful tattoo artist, and has been sober for three years now. Me on the other hand, I’m still in college deciding what to do with my life, and I drink until I black out almost every night.

“Ash, Im twenty-four years old. I can do what I want!”

She sighs and flops down next to me. Her hair mixes with mine spread out above our heads. She takes my hand, her hands slightly smaller in mine but always manage to make me feel safe.

“Y/n, i know you can do what you want. I just hate seeing you like this,” she props her head up on her palm to look at my face “I love you. So that’s why I need you to get out. Please?”

When Ash had said “go out” I assumed she meant a club or bar. But I’m kind of relived to see her car pull into an outside shopping mall. It’s sunset, golden sunlight peaking just behind the buildings. There’s a slight breeze that feels refreshing in the summer heat, and only a few people scatter the area.

“Ooh! They have a record store!” She points to a building called “Hope’s Records” and immediately rushes out of the car. I get out myself and see her opening the glass door of the shop.

I’m about to walk in, when the store next to it catches my attention instead. A large building with wide glass windows and fairy lights strung across the doors seems to call my name.

When I walk in rows of book shelves and tables fill the area. It smells like vanilla and that infamous “book smell” I love so dearly.

My love for books had never gone away in the years I’d gone through the hell of college. Books often act as my safe space. The wondrous world of fantasy and romance, or the horrifyingly bone chilling horror stories that books contain can transfer you into a completely different world. All from just words on pages.

I haven’t been to a book store in at least a year, usually preferring to order my books online even if I have to wait an amount of time. But now being back in one, I realize going to a book store isn’t just to get books, but for the comforting atmosphere as well.

“Hello, Welcome! Feel free to look around and discover new adventures!”

I immediately head to the fantasy section, in dire need to find a new distraction that doesn’t come in a glass bottle. Books of fairies, vampires, dystopian worlds, and monsters line the shelves. I sometimes wonder how many words are collectively in bookstores. Even this section alone is enough to drown me completely.

I take a book in my hands, the cover golden and words written in cursive. The classic trope of a strong warrior woman defeating an evil monster, while finding love through the process. I tuck it under my arm, and I can already feel how light my wallet is going to be after this trip.

Somehow in only ten minutes three more books end up in my arms, all different genres.

I make my way to the horror section with a basket now in my hands, and I rush to a book that catches my attention so fast I don’t notice the other person with me.

My hands grab the black cover, but another larger one collides with mine. The coldness of them jolts me back, and I come face to face with the person next to me.

“I-I’m sorry, I”

I cut off my own words to save myself from embarrassment. I haven’t been in contact with another person other than Ash in at least a month. Especially a person this… beautiful.

The man stands a few inches taller than me and has jet black hair. His eyes are deep brown, and skin pale white. A slight blush covers his cheeks, his lips the same color.

“No, it’s fine.” He says. His voice is deep yet calm, and it makes my stomach erupt in butterflies.

I don’t even catch myself staring into his eyes until the bell rings signaling another person has come in, snapping me out of my gaze. The man smirks and puts his hand out for me to shake.

“My name is Yoongi”

“I’m Y/n”

His smirk turns to a gummy smile, and I can’t help but smile myself. I looked at the book we both grabbed for and took it into my hands.

“Have you read it before?”

His voice startled me a little bit as I put the book into my basket. I shake my head no, and he grabs one for himself.

“Have you?” I ask him. A small smile appears on his lips.

“Many times,” he looks back into my eyes, “it’s probably one of my favorites. I’m just here to get a new copy. My original one is in pretty bad shape…”

I know the feeling myself all too well. There are many books that I’ve had since middle school that I still hold onto dearly. Some are literally hanging on by a thread, so getting a new copy is the smartest move.

“I have at least three copies of Little Women. I tend to destroy my favorite books from how much I read them.” He chuckles. His eyes creace into crescent moons when he does. I can already feel a warmth in my face at just the sound of his laugh.

“I love little women! I cry everytime…” I sheepishly admit.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this but… I cry everytime i read it too…”

I giggle at his confession, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. My basket is long forgotten by now, the weight on my forearm from holding it the last thing on my mind. The more I paid attention, the more details I could spot on Yoongi’s face.

The cute dimples on his cheeks when he smiled, the way his arms crossed and fingers fiddled with the rings on them, or the way he would press his lips together when I’d say something particularly interesting.

“Do you want to get some coffee? There’s this really good place my friend Tae works at.” Yoongi says motioning around the corner of the street.

A smile makes way onto my face almost too quickly for my liking, and I agree.

After paying for my books and sending a quick text to Ash about where I am going, the cool night air greets me as I walk side by side with Yoongi.

He tells me about his dog, Holly, and how he had never been an animal person until he got him. I, in return, tell him about my sassy black cat named Jude.

Speaking with him is strange to say the least. I feel a warmth in my chest whenever I make him laugh, and we never seem to have an awkward moment of silence. Either we’re talking about books, our pets, childhood memories, or how annoying our best friends can be, it all just seems so natural.

“So you’re telling me,” Yoongi puts his coffee down, laughing in the process “she put a tack on your chair?!”

My eyes wrinkle with a wide smile, the memories of that day in sophomore year flooding back to me.

“Yes! Ash put a fucking tack on my chair!” Yoongi silently laughs, his eyes almost closed.

“I swear my ass hurt for at least two days after that!”

Our faces are red from laughter, and my coffee is already long forgotten and empty. Yoongi had already thrown away his paper cup a while ago, and our bags of books we bought sit at our feet.

Multiple childhood memories had been shared in the short hour we had sat here. I have never felt more comfortable outside of my house without Ash or my mom. I’m not good at talking to people, but talking with Yoongi felt extremely natural.

I’m about to share another story about one of Ash and I’s high school adventures, when the front door bell chimes behind me.

“Oh what do we have here?”

“Speak of the devil…” I say already knowing who it is. My suspicions are proved correct when I see Ash’s very obviously smug face.

“I leave you unattended for an hour and you already have a date? Honestly I’m impressed!” She laughs.

My face turns red at her calling this a “date” but Yoongi only smiles in return, looking at my best friend.

“So you’re the famous Ash?”

“Why, yes I am!”

She’s holding two bags in her hand, one from the record store, and the other from a vintage clothing store she visits often.

“Thank you,Yoongi. You were right, the coffee was really good”

The cold night breeze ruffles his hair adorably, and his gummy smile makes an appearance once again.

“No, thank you for letting me take you.” He looks to his feet for a moment, a nervous tic I assume “and thank you for the conversation. I really like talking to you…”

I’m flustered at his statement, my face feeling hot, despite the night’s temperature. Now I’m the one looking at the ground, my own nervous tics showing themselves.

“I really like talking to you too”

We’re both smiling like blushing idiots, and Ash seems to notice this with a smirk.

“Let’s go, lover girl! We have a girls night ahead of us!” She yells from her car. Yoongi chuckles slightly at her whistles when he steps closer to me. A piece of paper, a napkin actually, slips into my hand.

“Call me” the napkin has his phone number sketched in it “you know… so you can tell me how that book is”

I pocket the napkin, my heart racing in my chest. I swear I can feel the organ hit my rib cage with the force it’s beating with

“I will” is all I can manage to say, walking to the car with a little more pep in my walk. I see him wave from the front of the coffee shop as we drive away, and a dreamy smile makes its way onto my face without me even noticing.

“See what happens when you listen to me! You get yourself a cute ass boyfriend!”

My bags are thrown onto the couch in my living room as soon as the front door opens.

“He is cute, huh?” I laugh, ignoring the ping of excitement in my chest at the mere mention of the word “boyfriend”. My hands are empty except for the book I’d grabbed, leading to me meeting the cute older boy we’re speaking of.

“Look at you! You look like you just had your first kiss! Awww my baby is so grown up!” Ash pinches my cheeks after dropping her bags along with mine and I push her away with a laugh.

“I feel like I just had my first kiss! I mean we didn’t even kiss, but my head feels light, and my chest is warm, and my mouth hurts from smiling, and-“

“Sounds like your diagnosis is… love! The symptoms all point to it…”

I groan into my hands, flopping onto the couch. I feel dizzy with a pinch of sadness from our little outing. Dizzy with the memory of that damn gummy smile, and sad that I had to leave that damn gummy smile.

Ash walks over to my hunched form on the couch, a paper bag in her hands. It reads “Jin’s classics”, the name of a vintage store in the same outside mall we’d just been to.

“I’m so glad I had the instinct to buy this for you…”

My head perks up with interest when I hear the crinkle of paper, and when I look I’m too stunned to speak. She pulls out a sun dress with lace lining the hem of the skirt and torso. The fabric is polka dotted and dark blue in color. It stops just above the knees and it’s truly beautiful.

“Next time you see lover boy,” she places the dress into my lap, “wear this. You’ll blow him away!”

My heat quickens at just the thought of impressing him, and I take the dress in my hands. It’s soft and comfortable enough to be casually worn while still looking elegant.

The whole night horror movies play while we talk about how dumb the main characters are for even getting themselves into the situations they do. But I can’t help but think of the cute boy I’d met today. The way he spoke and slipped the napkin into my hand had my skin heating up.

When Ash and I make our way to my balcony, glasses of chocolate milk in our hands, I wish on a shooting star that flies by. I wish that I could one day wear that dress and “blow away” Yoongi. It’s childish, but he makes me feel like that, even after meeting him for the first time. 

When Ash and I make our way to my balcony, glasses of chocolate milk in our hands, I wish on a shooting star that flies by. I wish that I could one day wear that dress and “blow away” Yoongi. It’s childish, but he makes me feel like that, even after meeting him for the first time.

And I’m glad I did wish on that star with all my might, because I wake up to a text message the next morning. It’s from Yoongi, and it’s crazy how the simple question starts me up so quickly.

“How does coffee sound this morning? I want to hear your thoughts on the book is all ;)”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

#bts #bts jimn #bts taehyung #bts jin #bts jeon jungkook #bts hosoek #bts yoongi #bts namjoon #bts fic #bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts one shot #bangtan #min yoongi #crack fic #bts suga #agust d #meet cute #bts senarios #bts series #mc is anxious lmao #bts meet cute

[billcharts]

Weekly BillCharts Top 50 - 2023 Week 6

Have you heard of the Frog Wizard? He walks around the fields, checking people's vibes, and taking those with not-so-great vibes to a relaxing place. He offers to stay with us for as long as we'd like, as a gentle tune plays. And sure enough, this tune was the mainstay of the week, netting one of the biggest #1 debuts of all time.

Plus, Ice Spice & PinkPantheress notch a new peak, and Lil Narnia and fats'e notch their biggest hit in years. More info after the break.

Dearly Beloved from Kingdom Hearts 2 is this week's massive hotshot debut as it crashes into the charts at the top with an impressive 135 plays. This now makes it the 3rd largest debut of all time. Here's the run down of the big debuts:

Ethel Cain - Sun Bleached Flies (203 plays, 2022)

Taylor Swift - gold rush (168 plays, 2022)

Yoko Shimomura - Dearly Beloved (135 plays, 2023)

Novo Amor - Carry You (118 plays, 2022)

Jenny Owen Youngs - Wake Up (110 plays, 2017)

This also marks Yoko Shimomura's very first song to chart, which is interesting since her Mario & Luigi music had been a childhood staple for many years. Funnily enough, I have not ever actively played any Kingdom Hearts games, but I know enough from cultural osmosis (and by that I mostly mean Penny Parker's LP of the first game).

Ethel Cain's Sun Bleached Flies rises back to #2 in its 16th week. The song has now spent 10 weeks in the top 2, and 15 in the top 5. This only further extends her dominance for these ranges, and also inches her closer to overtaking Taylor Swift's State of Grace for longest chart run in the top 10. As a matter of fact, she now breaks the tie for 2nd longest Top 10 run, eclipsing the 2020 mega-hit Bury Us by The Naked and Famous.

PinkPantheress and Ice Spice's Boy's A Liar Pt. 2 notches a new peak for both artists as it debuts at a lofty #3. Ice Spice had a few weeks ago landed a #4 debut with No Clarity, and Picture In My Mind had given PinkPantheress a minor hit that peaked at #12 last year. Rounding out the top 5, PRIZM's 10/10 dips 3-4, and Linda Ronstadt's Long Long Time falls 1-5 after its chart topping debut last week.

fats'e, Lil Narnia and Anxiety Attacks' another night on the edge drops in at #6, notching a new top 10 hit for both fats'e and Lil Narnia. Both artists had #1 hits in 2020 with picking myself up again and Every Day respectively, but both artists haven't seen the top 10 in years. Lil Narnia had more luck with How Could I, but that song peaked at #7, but failed to hit this range of the charts since. This means that another night on the edge is the 2nd highest peak for both artists.

Rounding out the top 10, Tommee Profitt and Fleurie's cover of Chasing Cars lands at #7, Christine and the Queens' iT rolls in 13-8, close to its #7 peak on the Weekly Charts. Harumi Miyako's cover of The Rose, Ai Wa Hana, Kimi Wa Sono Tane, falls 2-9. And finally, Richard Freeman's Endless Mind lands at #10, giving the top 10 some chill jazzy instrumental vibes.

Outside the Top 10, Joe Hisaishi's An Unusual Painting and Yumi Arai's Rouge no Dengon continue rising 22-14 and 16-13 respectively, in representation of the Kiki's Delivery Service soundtrack. Also, Brittany Davis' Pink Flowers vaults 44-24, finally entering the top 25 after 3 weeks.

Below is the full Top 50.

(★) (1) (-) Yoko Shimomura - Dearly Beloved (Kingdom Hearts 2) (Peak: #1) (Weeks: 1) (▲) (2) (4) Ethel Cain - Sun Bleached Flies (Peak: #1) (Weeks: 16) (★) (3) (-) PinkPantheress, Ice Spice - Boy's A Liar Pt. 2 (Peak: #3) (Weeks: 1) (▼) (4) (3) PRIZM - 10/10 (Peak: #1) (Weeks: 3) (▼) (5) (1) Linda Ronstadt - Long Long Time (Peak: #1) (Weeks: 2) (★) (6) (-) Fats'e, LIL NARNIA, Anxiety Attacks! - another night on the edge (Peak: #6) (Weeks: 1) (★) (7) (-) Tommee Profitt ft. Fleurie - Chasing Cars (Peak: #7) (Weeks: 1) (▲) (8) (13) Christine and the Queens - iT (Peak: #7) (Weeks: 3) (▼) (9) (2) Harumi Miyako - Ai Wa Hana, Kimi Wa Sono Tane (Peak: #2) (Weeks: 2) (★) (10) (-) Richard Freeman - Endless Mind (Peak: #10) (Weeks: 1) (▲) (11) (12) Serena Ryder, William Prince - River Of Tears (Peak: #4) (Weeks: 5) (▲) (12) (15) Depeche Mode - Never Let Me Down Again (Peak: #2) (Weeks: 4) (▲) (13) (16) Yumi Arai - Rouge no Dengon (Peak: #13) (Weeks: 2) (▲) (14) (22) Joe Hisaishi - An Unusual Painting (Peak: #14) (Weeks: 4) (▼) (15) (5) Caroline Polachek - Welcome To My Island (Peak: #5) (Weeks: 2) (▲) (16) (24) Ethel Cain - Strangers (Peak: #10) (Weeks: 5) (▼) (17) (8) Go! Child - Deadlock (Peak: #2) (Weeks: 11) (▼) (18) (9) Tinashe, MAKJ - Save Room For Us (Peak: #9) (Weeks: 4) (▼) (19) (10) Dexys Midnight Runners - Come On Eileen (Peak: #5) (Weeks: 4) (▲) (20) (30) Black Eyed Peas - I Gotta Feeling (Peak: #4) (Weeks: 4) (▲) (21) (38) OMORI Sound Team, Jami Lynne - Three Bar Logos (Peak: #11) (Weeks: 5) (▲) (22) (27) OMORI Sound Team, bo en - Tussle Among Trees (Peak: #20) (Weeks: 5) (▼) (23) (14) AJ Marks - Love To Hate Me (Peak: #14) (Weeks: 4) (▲) (24) (44) Brittany Davis - Pink Flowers (Peak: #24) (Weeks: 3) (▲) (25) (48) Zach Bryan - Something In The Orange (Peak: #17) (Weeks: 5) (▲) (26) (33) Taylor Swift - Anti-Hero (Peak: #26) (Weeks: 3) (▲) (27) (49) Big Thief - Simulation Swarm (Peak: #24) (Weeks: 6) (▼) (28) (6) Crying - There Was A Door (Peak: #6) (Weeks: 2) (▲) (29) (31) M83 - Oceans Niagara (Peak: #29) (Weeks: 4) (▼) (30) (26) Earl Sweatshirt - Titanic (Peak: #10) (Weeks: 6) (▼) (31) (28) Fall Out Boy - Love From The Other Side (Peak: #6) (Weeks: 4) (▼) (32) (18) Pigeons Playing Ping Pong - Su Casa (Peak: #1) (Weeks: 6) (▼) (33) (7) OMORI Sound Team, Pedro Silva - Push & Shove (Peak: #6) (Weeks: 4) (▼) (34) (20) Hirokazu Ando, Jun Ishikawa, Shinji Yoshimura - Miracle Matter (Peak: #3) (Weeks: 6) (▲) (35) (36) Angus & Julia Stone - Blue (Peak: #1) (Weeks: 5) (RE) (36) (-) Enya - Orinoco Flow (Peak: #34) (Weeks: 3) (=) (37) (37) The Chainsmokers ft. Cheyenne Giles - Make Me Feel (Peak: #37) (Weeks: 4) (RE) (38) (-) Savage Garden - Two Beds And A Coffee Machine (Peak: #22) (Weeks: 4) (●) (39) (-) Doja Cat - Celebrity Skin (Peak: #39) (Weeks: 1) (▼) (40) (11) Novo Amor - Anchor (Peak: #1) (Weeks: 4) (▼) (41) (39) MIKE - No Curse Lifted (rivers of love) (Peak: #3) (Weeks: 7) (▼) (42) (35) Mariah Carey ft. Miguel - #Beautiful (Peak: #5) (Weeks: 6) (▲) (43) (47) MIKE ft. King Carter - Concrète (Peak: #27) (Weeks: 7) (●) (44) (-) Metro Boomin, The Weeknd, 21 Savage - Creepin' (Peak: #44) (Weeks: 1) (▼) (45) (43) fun. ft. Janelle Monáe - We Are Young (Peak: #8) (Weeks: 4) (=) (46) (46) Christine and the Queens - Christine (Peak: #5) (Weeks: 10) (▼) (47) (45) MIKE ft. Sister Nancy - Stop Worry! (Peak: #7) (Weeks: 11) (▼) (48) (32) Tennis - Let's Make A Mistake Tonight (Peak: #32) (Weeks: 4) (▼) (49) (34) Swedish House Mafia ft. John Martin - Don't You Worry Child (Peak: #10) (Weeks: 8) (▼) (50) (23) MIKE - Swoosh 23 (Peak: #10) (Weeks: 8)

#weekly billcharts #music charts #personal music charts #2023 billcharts

[stutee]

Hello everyone!

Haven't posted anything here since quite long and was scrolling tumblr and reblogging posts and got a sudden urge to post something.

Well! Life has been...just okay I guess. Been learning and fighting demons everyday and sometimes trying my best to take a breather and sip my coffee. I am making it a habit of going upstairs and watching the sunset and feeling the spring breeze and sipping my coffee. I feel suffocated inside my house. Not that something wrong is happening but that i am so tired sometimes fighting my battles and being anxious for no reason. I think my body craved the wind, the trees, the sun and the heat. So i do that. I have come to realise that life will always be like this. We don't really come to a point in life where we are free from all ups and downs or reach a state of mind where nothing bothers us. Even if we do, it would be a fleeting moment. We will continue to crave and yearn even if slightly and not with the same intensity as now. So it's better to try to accept life as it is. Please don't come at me with different circumstances where this doesn't apply and i am aware of it but just let me speak for myself. So I am planning to learn to breathe. Yes I do breathe but it is more like a biological function indicating me being alive. I need to breathe mindfully. Feel the air move in and out and let go of that brick in my chest. Need to remember tiny good things that happen almost everyday. Even on the worst days. With this mad marathon race, I am forgetting to appreciate a few good things in life. While realism is helpful and is needed, a bit of positivity, gratitude and some moments of created or accepted peace, fun and self love is really important to move on in life. I don't think it's getting easier. But with grounding myself and building a home and safe space within myself, i can atleast deal with in a better manner and not jump up with armour and a sword to fight and make battles of things which are as silly and puny as water bubbles. It's also important to give back to my body which is constantly pushing me to stay alive and while i don't really have a good relation with my body, that is, i don't think it's on my side, it's high time I start a serious journey to befriend it and bring it to my side.

Some of us need pushing and some of us need to let go. I am the former. I need to learn to actually work on my potential and make something out of it and not give in to self victim narratives and to laziness or procrastination. But also to understand when i need to let loose and chill to recharge my energy to walk the path again. I need to find the balance where I push myself but also don't stress and frustrate myself. It is a long way to go and i am just at the beginning.

And if you wonder, how will I know if I have achieved balance? I guess I will know when I fall less sick, sleep peacefully every night,(the last night I did that was when I was doing my graduation) have sufficient self control and find myself doing my work properly and taking care of myself at the same time. I will still have bad days. Worse days even. But I will not be falling into the dark pit and instead turning off the lights and taking a nap or taking it slowly and easily when i am struggling. Or just let it be. And if I fall down, i get up slowly and get back once again without a long gap.

I will see you around. Thanks for reading if you did. Hugs, love and positive vibes.🫂❤️

#update #random scribbles #lifejourneys

[dzpenumbra]

11/21/22

Writing this early tonight, trying a new routine. I need to bring the car in to the shop in the AM, then I need to drive up to the new apartment the next morning. I'm already running later than I was hoping.

I got caught up in Minecraft working on the Zen garden. It's coming along nicely, but Chisels and Bits is giving me trouble. A lot of misclicks and double clicks because of poor optimization resulted in me spending about twice the time I should have on what I got done. And a wandering trader wouldn't get out of my way and leave me alone, which felt eerily like the constant bombardment of ads on every goddamn platform nowadays. But what I got done was a lot, so I'm not too disappointed. The place is really taking shape and it's very beautiful.

I was, however, listening to Fall of Civilizations podcast, and it happened to be the Inca one. And while that was absolutely incredible, and very well made, it was insanely depressing and really... horrifying, really. I feel like it's much easier to listen to stuff like that when you have someone around to kinda... remind yourself of the goodness in people, and to process. But when you're alone... and you've been through some shit... yeah.

Might just be me, I'm admittedly very sensitive and especially sensitive lately. So... tonight I'm going to have to do something a little different for a pallet cleanser before bed. It's something I really try to do consistently, with good results so far. Just end the night on a good note, on good vibes. And journaling is usually my way of sorting through the shit and getting to the good stuff. But tonight, journaling is happening a bit earlier, to buy me time to get to bed earlier. So... I'm gonna have to improvise.

Today, I finished breaking the quartz down. It took a lot of effort, blisters forming on several fingers, like 3-4 hours of work, but it's done. Now I can sort through the debris for salvageable tumbleable pebbles and toss the rest. It snowed too, I was considering going snowskating for the first time this season but the stars didn't really align on that. I have piss poor outdoor lighting at my place. Instead, I worked on making beads, and got a few done. Then I cleaned up the vice, got as much of the rust off of it as possible to make future work a bit easier, and got a late shower in.

Tarot study, dinner, Minecraft, now I'm here. Things are changing very quick and December is approaching much quicker than I anticipated. I'm not even really packed at all, no more than I have been the past month. I don't even really have a plan. I've been trying to be really gentle and not push myself too hard, I've been very fragile. We'll see how it goes, I guess. I'm kinda planning to just throw shit in boxes and move it when I can. I think my landlords are going to be chill about me taking my time, I'm mostly concerned about doing this 5 hour round trip drive over and over and over. And getting my cat's meds done reliably since she'll just be chillin at home the whole time.

Stressing just thinking about it. Ugh. Welp, one way or another it's getting done, so... one step at a time.

Positives - I have a ton of quartz now, and I can clean it up making very minimal noise at the new place. I'm going to work on my hoodie tomorrow, which is overdue and I'm looking forward to it. And I'm building up a good supply of beads to have on hand to add to bracelets and necklaces and stuff.

Now I gotta go get ready for bed, I'm running on like 6 hours of interrupted sleep full of very visceral nightmares. Here's to good vibes, good sleep and pleasant dreams!

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

[nim-lock]

// nudity warning //

local man gets aroused and hopes desperately in equal measure that the other guy in the shower with him either does something about it or pretends nothing has happend whatsoever

and some other doodles underneath the cut that aren’t directly related to this scene

#bobadin #my art #I should really decide on a tag for all the mando-related art so it's easier to search on my blog #boba fett #every few nights I give myself a night to chill and vibe so that I don't lose my entire mind in work #neverfeedthesarlacc: do you mean you they were trying to platonically shower #me: uh yup #could be read as trans!din if someone wanted I didn't feel like fleshing out the genitals

[inkmemes]

young  royals  (  2021  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  netflix’s  swedish  ya  drama.  non-contextual  spoilers.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  sexual  activity,  drugs,  alcohol,  death,  implied  internalised  homophobia,  bullying.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“at least you can stay for a cup of coffee?”

“hey, wait up. did you sleep together?” 

“he's probably making out with someone. forget it.”

“i can't take it anymore.”

“what are you doing?”

“and he had to finish your sentence. what's going on? you like him.”

“every time you see your dad, you get all depressed.”

“you're still here, so obviously you must want something.”

“are you high? what the hell are you on?”

“does this make you horny?” 

“i like [town name], but i don't want to live here forever.”

“you can leave now. go home. i'm staying here for the weekend.”

“do you want chocolate?”

“how do you feel?” 

“it's kind of hard to tell them apart, you know.” 

“you're a worthless drunk.”

“you … you need to figure out what you want. and you can take all the time you need. and i respect that. but you have to do it by yourself. i don't want to be anyone's secret.”

“you have to stop pretending that you're not afraid.”

“that's the thing, i just don't want that.”

“it's something new. something fresh.”

“can we talk privately for a minute?” 

“and if anyone gives you a hard time, you know, just let me know, and i'll take care of it.” 

“you do know you don't need to hide?” 

“are you gonna let us in?”

“promise to let me know if there's anything i can do.”

“hey, we won't go blind from your moonshine, right?”

“i'm just getting a good vibe. that's all.”

“you're so fucking pathetic.”

“you realize that this will have consequences?”

“he's such a fucking idiot.”

“i wanted us to have a few minutes alone.”

“when you're young, love feels like the most important thing in the world.” 

“i really like you.”

“felt like i had to rescue you from that situation.”

“it got so damn hot in there, i thought i'd get some fresh air.”

“you are allowed your own opinions. it's cool.”

“i've seen the way you look at each other.”

“here, this one is a little big for me, but i think it'll look great on you.”

“do you think royal dick is different than regular?”

“you're the only one here i feel i can actually talk to.” 

“i haven't heard anything yet, but i'll tell you as soon as i do.”

“you can't just lie here jerking off.”

“i don't want to go to some fucking boarding school!”

“i've missed this place so much.”

“are you going to horror movie night on friday?”

“but i like you. and that is not fake.”

“you don't need to share everything.”

“we should go to a concert again sometime.”

“you're fucking crazy!”

“where have you been? i've been trying to reach you.”

“just don't use the school's wi-fi for porn surfing. could be embarrassing.”

“but no matter what, they can't dictate what you say.”

“sorry about last night.”

“i don't want to talk to you!”

“i don't wanna sound like an idiot.”

“i was thinking, would you like to have a sleepover at my place? because that's something friends do. it's going to be really cozy.”

“i think maybe we should forget about that.”

“you can't really see that it is you.”

“i mean, it could be anyone. it's so fucking stupid.”

“i don't want to say anything.” 

“now you're doing it again. you're trying to take care of me.” 

“i can take it, it's okay.”

“that's not true. i haven't spoken to my parents.”

“we haven't done anything wrong.”

“you're beautiful! you're so beautiful.”

“i'm gay, [name].”

“seriously? what the fuck is your problem?”

“you keep letting people piss on you!”

“i just assumed you didn't want special treatment.”

“keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“so you thought you'd start spreading false rumours without having any proof?” 

“i just didn't want to lose you.”

“uh, there's pizza left if you want some.”

“everybody thinks you're perfect. you know that, right?”

“he's just been outed.”

“i'm going to fuck this up.”

“he bloody ruined my fucking life!”

“why are you sitting in your room sulking when you have a crush to hang out with?”

“hi. sorry, i was feeling a bit better. so i thought it was okay that i hung out with some friends.”

"everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want.”

“i woke up in my own bed. that's always something.”

“could i just have one second? just one second alone, please?”

“i’m sorry. but it was, like, the only way.”

“i thought, everyone deserves a second chance.”

“i'm sorry about the mess. i wasn't expecting such distinguished company.”

“i just don't want you to be treated badly again.”

“oh, fuck.”

“you don't even… aren't you even gonna answer me?”

“i didn't know that one was supposed to sign up.”

“in real life, you don't pay to get ahead.”

“and what the fuck does your dad do?”

“let's try to have some table manners.”

“it's, like, really serious.”

“who the hell can live like this for three fucking years?”

“that's what happens when you buy the cheap ones.”

“i need your help with something. ”

“being a prince is not a punishment, but a privilege.”

“it's awesome to just chill out.”

“or maybe he lied about that too. what do i know?”

“you have to give people a chance.”

“you have to try to see it from my perspective.” 

“what the hell's this?”

“what happened to "we should forget about it"?”

“stop being so fucking stubborn and try to understand my situation.”

“sometimes it's better not to say everything.” 

“i was just bored.”

“have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“sometimes it's better to keep quiet.”

“can i get you some coffee?”

“nobody else cares about these things.”

“i lost track of time.”

“everybody does the same things and everybody knows everybody.”

“thanks for rescuing me yesterday.”

“remember when he came up to us the first week and was like, "what's up?"”

“i need you to delete all our texts.”

“i can't keep doing this anymore.”

“are you gonna let them go on with their bullshit?”

“i want to be with you.”

“here's a blanket, a pillow, and bed sheets. there you go.”

“okay, yeah. you don't seem to have grasped what i'm trying to say.”

“it's usually boring as hell.”

“he's been dealing to us for months.”

“i don't want to talk to him.”

“don't you wanna date [name] anymore?”

“i don't know why he's started texting me again. he knows i don't want anything to do with him.” 

“yeah, we had a shitload of drugs.”

“we could murder someone, and nobody would say a word.”

“she needs some fun.”

“he's just doing it to fuck with me.”

“it's such a weird question.”

“i just wanted to say hi. i don't believe we've met. ”

“but i still want us to be friends.”

“if i were to stay here… would you… like to keep me company? just you and me.”

“everything's, like, upside down now.”

“have you always lived here?”

“damn it. sorry. shit. i completely forgot.”

“i'm sure someone has a story to tell.”

“you've got to put yourself first. i mean, no matter what he thinks about it.”

“come on! you can't just sit there stuck in your room.”

“you can snuggle up in my safe arms if it gets scary.”

“i want to live a normal life.”

“let me have a look. you can hardly see it.”

“any other dick that's been sucked?”

“you just expect everything to be on your terms.”

“i want to know everything!”

“you don't have to go there. i'll take care of myself.”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” 

“i'll just stay in and go to bed early.”

“thanks for explaining the schedule.”

“i'd rather die.”

“i don't want you to be mad.”

“promise to tell me if something is wrong.”

“i can't be dressed like this if you're dressed like that.” 

“it's really complicated.”

“it feels like you don't care what people think about you, or if you have a lot of friends and stuff.” 

“nobody asked you to come. feel free to leave if you want.”

“well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this!” 

“there isn't so much to do around here.”

“you've become such a snob.”

“i know you're only trying to help me.” 

“do you like it here?”

“i don't wanna go in there. we're not even invited. fuck this.”

“don't you think it's weird [name] invited us to come?”

“if they hadn't been here, would you've, uh, made out with me?”

“so, you're an actual proper couple now?”

“you're thinking about someone else.”

“you're right. we're doing this together.”

“thanks… for nothing.”

“why are you even so obsessed with him?”

“i want you to hold me.”

“call me when you want to be picked up.”

“what the fuck do you care?” 

“i don't think we're a couple or anything. i don't know what it is.”

“you never asked me!”

“your focus should be on comforting me so that i can comfort him.” 

“it's not that hard. you have to be able to keep up appearances.”

“famous people make videos like that.”

“maybe somebody forgot to tell me, as usual.”

“just make a move on [name] and show him what you want.”

“you wanna stay a while and jam?”

“have you talked to your parents about it?”

“a diverse bunch of losers, who'll never amount to anything.”

“why can't i decide how the hell i want to live?”

“apparently, i'm the only one who doesn't know everybody.”

“i used to have straight a's on every test.”

“it will damage our reputation.”

“i'm fucking starving.”

“why is it called tax "evasion" but welfare "scam"? it's all right that rich people cheat, but when poor people do it, it's messed up. for rich people, it's not even called "welfare”, it's called "deduction."”

“what the fuck is rowing?”

“what the hell have you done, [name]?”

“good voice, man.”

“why can't i just have a relationship with him?”

“did you have fun last friday?”

“all the people are fake. they're made out of metal.”

what do you want me to say? i'm sorry!”

“is this some kind of prank?”

“i like you when you are yourself!”

“but you like him, don't you?”

“she shouldn't talk to you like that.”

“are you into him?”

“something's not right, i think we should head back to the road.”

“do you have trouble sleeping?”

“doesn't anyone care what i want?”

“just don't tell anyone that i've been here.”

“i was going to text you back, but…”

“your only mistake was that you hung out with the wrong kind of people.”

“i just wanted to help.”

“i know you'll use anything to get high or drunk.” 

“it's time to stop being so selfish.”

“i just want my fucking money.”

“you should've planned ahead. didn't you bring a sandwich?” 

“who the fuck wants to be normal anyway?”

“you fucking told me you were the one i could always come to!”

“i take it back.”

“i can see there's something going on.”

“i have to finish getting ready, so if you could please leave.”

“no one likes me when i'm myself.” 

“i hope you have a nice christmas.”

“i'm gonna do the wrong things, say the wrong things.”

“my mom is gonna kill me.”

“do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“i cannot be dragged into this.”

“i like you too.”

“you're no longer a part of my family.”

“it's well-suited for smaller people.”

“i assume that he thought that it would make him popular.”

“i didn't ask for this!”

“it's no problem. i like doing it.”

“it feels like i'm gonna throw up.”

“don't i get any breakfast?”

“whatever i do, i can't do anything right.”

“we haven't been to any party whatsoever.”

“did you get my texts?”

“i think it sounds romantic.”

“uh, wait, you have to come to the horror movie night on friday.”

“i liked what you said in there, [name].”

“okay, maybe he used to be a player, but love can actually change you.”

“it's nice to make an effort and dress up for dinner.” 

“i'm in a fucked-up situation and i'm trying to talk to you.” 

“you don't understand. i was gonna pay it.”

“you're not that kind of guy.”

“i was about to go outside and, um, do you wanna come with?”

“what about me?” 

“it was… okay, i guess.”

“can i sit with you?”

“you call this a scary movie?”

“i have a million things to take care of, i don't have time to talk to you.”

“have you lost it completely?”

“but i'm starving.”

“this past year has been difficult for me.”

“i don't get it. she's making it into such a big deal.”

“no, this won't work. just take it off, please.” 

“i'm not like that.”

“fuck you. it's not a crush.”

“then i know that i can't count on you.”

“can't you come see me in [town] sometime?”

“it's just that we can't be seen together.” 

“he was still sleeping when i walked in.”

“doesn't bother me at all. i've seen it. absolutely. 100%.”

“[name] is really getting on my nerves! seriously.”

“i want us to be friends again.”

“i thought you and [name] were friends.”

“make sure you check your dms. okay?”

“you think it's fun to fuck with people like me?”

“never spend money you don't have. okay?”

“you think i'm stupid?”

“this sucks.” 

“how nice to see some smiles.”

“this isn't just about me, but my entire family.”

“i'm going to marry her.”

“are you threatening me?”

“don't you realize the shit storm that follows if i come out?” 

“i don't want you to talking to her.”

“remember what we saw during movie night? when they sat next to each other?”

“i love you.”

“i just want to hang out with you.”

"there's no point in having a back-up if you never use it."

“pretend i'm saying something clever.”

“how's [name]? he must be totally devastated.”

“what do you think they think we're talking about?”

“everything is fake. everything in the world is fake.”

“[name] is dead.”

“it just wasn't what i thought it would be like.”

“since when did you start liking him for real?” 

“what a fucking douchebag. god!”

“what the hell are you saying? chill out!”

#rp meme #rp prompt #rp starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #it's long but i like my memes chunky <3 #lemme know if u'd prefer i do things in parts tho ! #also everyone watch this show immediately :knife:

[shepherds-of-haven]

I hope you’re having a great day Lena! I was just wondering if we could have any fluff facts about the shepherds as a whole! Like fun tidbits of how they interact with each other, what some of them do if they have the same day off, does anyone host weekly game nights?? I hope that makes sense! Reading the recent short story on Patreon I love seeing how the characters interact with one another and now I need moreeeeeee🙏

Ooh, great question! I’m feeling curiously tapped dry at the moment, so I’ll probably have to reblog this as more ideas come to me; I’m so happy you’re enjoying the short story, btw!! 💖

Some group dynamic headcanons:

Many of them steal clothes from each other. Briony wears a cute sweater of Shery's (she asked), Ayla gets cold so she just takes one of Red's jackets from a chair (she didn't ask), Chase gives Tallys his scarf one day and Riel corders Trouble a pair of gloves from a fashion line he favors because his old ones are holey and they get into an argument about it... This leads to some recruits mistakenly thinking that the captains are all involved in some sort of mass relationship because they keep walking out of each other's rooms wearing each other's clothes. (The recruits believe a lot of really dumb stuff, if you couldn't tell. They LOVE gossip. It's like a competitive sport in the compound)

There is a weekly card game night, initiated and organized first by Chase, but it grows bigger over time, with snacks, cakes, drinks, and new games being procured! I'd actually say it's more like every ten-fourteen days or so than on any set weekday, and is typically proposed by anyone who senses that they or others need to blow off some steam. They all tend to meet in a private common room and either just chill and play some card games and casually drink and listen to music, or they get LOUD and raucous and play more risque non-card games (like Question or Command/Truth or Dare). The loud nights are more like once a month or bi-monthly, though! They take place in the captains' lounge so dumb recruits don't get to join! It's rare that they're in there all doing the same thing, though: maybe half will be at the table playing card games while others will be broken up into smaller groups, say arm-wrestling in the corner or playing chess at the smaller table or reading, but they're all there! Game nights are almost never held unless everyone is there, which is extraordinarily difficult to schedule, but they all make an effort to make it happen--even those who first had to be dragged into it, like Blade or Riel!

Speaking of chess games, Red and Riel have a standing game where they complete at least four more moves every night that they're around and able to meet up after dinner. Planning their next move helps them both break up the monotony of the day, and it's something they enjoy immensely. However, whenever he gets called away on a mission, Red gets sick with worry that Riel's been cooking up all sorts of schemes while he's been gone, so sometimes on the road he has, like, a schematic that he doodles on trying to anticipate Riel's next move, and it's very nerdy and ramps up in joking Anxiety. Riel, graciously, goes easier on him on nights after he comes back from long trips, though he denies it

Similarly, Blade and Trouble have a standing training session once a week where they just beat the crap out of each other. This is generally where they do the majority of their talking

Briony and Ayla first had an agreement that they would get the other one up if they overslept (Briony tends to be the one who oversleeps while Ayla is better about being up at dawn, but Ayla is really grouchy if she went to bed late and Briony is the only one who can handle her), which morphed into doing runs and sparring together at dawn and having breakfast frequently!

The girls have a standing spa night once a month where they all get together in a room (usually Shery’s) and basically do sleepover stuff and relax and chat and catch up for a few hours. This also sometimes involves showing each other new outfits that they bought that month! Sometimes there are even group baths in the big common bath, but these are rarer because Shery is shy and Tallys doesn’t like sitting in hot water getting pruny

Chase and Trouble drag Red and Halek to go drinking with them around once a month; sometimes Blade is persuaded to go if Trouble can get the drop on him and punch him hard enough to wind him. It’s complicated

Riel and Shery, of course, have tea together once a week! You’re not allowed if you can’t bring a chill vibe (Riel’s rules). Tallys, Lavinet, Halek, and Red are occasional visitors; Briony is allowed on a good day. Blade would be allowed but he has 0 interest

Similarly, Lavinet hosts a weekly brunch, either in a courtyard or at some restaurant in town! Typically it’s a girl thing and Ayla, Briony, and Shery are the most consistent attendees, but Chase has snuck his way in there often, and Riel, Halek, or Red pop up occasionally!

Tallys and Halek cook together! It’s not all that often and doesn’t seem to have any set way of materializing--it just happens somehow--but they both very much enjoy it! Sometimes they cook dinner for the whole group and have a little dinner party that they both secretly get excited for! Sometimes Shery bakes the dessert!

Riel noticed that Tallys has a little garden that she spends time weeding, so he sends gardening tools or special seeds when he thinks she needs them and she leaves baskets of vegetables or vases of flowers in his office. All of this is done without exchanging a word

Chase sporadically teaches Briony acrobatics and things like tightrope walking, just randomly whenever they’re both idle. She teaches him how to gut people with bare fists and also sometimes they paint! 

Caine caught Red grazing in the pantry late one night and now it’s like a Thing where they pass each other in the kitchen and Red sort of just looks the other way re: Caine’s bedtime and what on earth he’s doing up so late and Caine doesn’t tell anybody that Red is just absent-mindedly eating a loaf of bread at 2 AM because he was too busy working to remember to eat dinner. It’ll be like, “there’s some turkey leftover from dinner in the cold box” “oh hey, Caine. thanks. ...so, what’s the news from the midnight watch tonight?” “i’m going to go hunt ghosts on the seventh floor with my friends!” “...okay! have fun!”

Lavinet has a monthly shopping trip where she updates her wardrobe, and it is very common for others to accompany her around the city and just shop while they drop! Common partners are Shery, Briony, Riel, Chase, and once memorably Blade, who didn’t know what he was in for!

Trouble and Ayla are wildly competitive and keep arm-wrestling each other for money; this becomes a bi-weekly sporting event that is eagerly attended and bet upon by third parties

There was ONE group karaoke night. ONE. Most of them got so blackout drunk that they swore to never do it again. Even now, several of them go green whenever they hear a popular bar song (“Don’t Piss Where You Plant Your Flowers”) being sung, especially badly

The game of "telephone" gets really bad in their group. It's like, Shery will say to Briony that she's worried because she thought Riel looked a bit peaky and feverish. Briony will say in passing to Trouble that Riel is getting sick and Shery is worried. Trouble will say to Tallys that Shery is worried sick because Riel is bedridden. Tallys will be mixing herbs and Chase will ask what for and Tallys will reply that Riel is sick, but because she's mixing herbs, Chase will surmise that the sickness must be quite advanced, and will later say, "Damn, have you seen Riel? Seems like he's really sick." Red will interpret this as "I have seen Riel for myself and have determined that he's extremely ill." At least four people will bust into Riel's room, expecting him to be on the verge of death, despite the fact that they saw Riel that morning. Riel will be fine and very annoyed at the intrusion.

They rarely go out as a group to bars and establishments outside of the compound (too chaotic as well as risky, for one thing, and also, recruits don't need to see their superiors like hanging out of bushes and dancing on tabletops drunk out of their minds, and also, "Mages can't drink" (lol)), but when they do deem it a worthy occasion (Trouble's birthday, say), the girls are very punctual when getting ready, and the boys are almost always extremely late due to various shenanigans (Chase forgot that he put a booby trap on Red’s door, covering Red with flour, or a cat somehow slips into Trouble’s room and steals, like, a detonator or an important key, and they have to go chasing it across the city). This has led to the girls coming late on purpose in order to even out their arrival, but mysteriously, this has only led to even later start times, meaning they often don’t get started until like 10 or 11 PM when the most well-intentioned souls meant to be in bed by midnight... that never happens, either!

One such night once led to them ending up on a ridge in the Sun’s Embrace, like a mile outside of the city, in order to watch the sun rise together, because hiking in the dark while blasted out of their minds sounded like a really good idea. They all made it, and the dawn was spectacular, but the moment was ruined when Tallys said softly, “It’s the beginning of a beautiful new day--” punctuated by Trouble abruptly throwing up in a bush and Riel just flat-out passing out

#Shepherds of Haven #group #group dynamic #all characters #found family #drinking #cw: alcohol #drunk #shenanigans #party #parties #long #long post