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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Cerise

Those are people who died, died Those are people who died, died They were all my friends and just died.

Word Count: 5736 Warnings: Crime, Weapons, Mentioned Murder of a R/pist, Crude humor.

Jason’s friend and roommate, another Gotham villain, is ordered to return to Task Force X.

ce·rise/səˈrēs,səˈrēz/ [noun] a bright or deep red color.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Let’s open up our story on a colorful note: Fuck Amanda Waller.

Nobody likes her. You don’t like her. Jason doesn’t like her. None of the characters in this story like her. Arguably, none of the characters in your present universe like her, either. There’s a reason why people call her “The Wall”. It’s because that’s what it’s like talking to her. And that’s what it would be like trying to deny the request she’d passed on to you in her letter.

It weighed on your mind briefly as you walk up the stairs of your apartment building. By the third flight, the weight’s pretty much disappeared. Sure, there’s anger at Waller for violating your agreement, but it’s so useless being annoyed with her that it washes away fast. So by the fourth flight, the whole thing is settled in your head to completion. You’ll go back to your Suicide Squad- or a Suicide Squad, considering most people Waller selects are idiots. Then you’ll do the job, and walk away bing, bang, boom.

You tip your head politely as if in salute to the older woman, Mallorca, who occupies the apartment across from you. She returns a warm smile that raises her prominent and wrinkled jowls, igniting the fire in her warm brown eyes. “You need me to do your laundry again?”

Of course an angel such as Mallorca would make such an offer. It’s not a bad offer, either. Your dark, silver lined chest plate is splattered with blood all over the front. It’s nobodies blood that doesn’t deserve it, as per your agreement with Waller. Just some perverted little prick who thought with his dick instead of his brain with the wrong girl. She looked frightened, and you saved her, and since the prick had just hit 18 (a fact you learned after rummaging around his wallet after), you had permission to bash his brain in. Hence the blood splattered vigilante armor.

The first time Mallorca had seen such a sight, she had no reaction whatsoever. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting from an old woman living in a back alley apartment building, but it certainly wasn’t that. She offered no shock to your red masked, blood stained roommate either. Mallorca is simply an otherworldly being. And is that cocaine you see on the collar of her shirt?

“I got it,” you throw in return, rounding the corner so she’s at your back, and nearing the climb up the next and last flight of stairs. “Hey, is Jason home?” But when you turn around fully, Mallorca shows no intention of responding and has disappeared down your previous staircase. You clasp your hands against the sides of your thighs, “Oh, okay.”

You make your way up the final steps and stick a hand in a secret back pocket to fish around for your keys. You wince when you begin the rigorous task of tugging the lanyard free from the depths, which unfortunately fell near to your back hole. Then you slip the key into the lock and twist.

Inside your apartment is near emptiness. There’s a couch, a rug, some windows, a TV, and to your immediate right is a small kitchen beside a hallway that leads to a bathroom and two bedrooms. You see the large plant you’d stuck in the corner is wilted and tinged brown, and the TV is playing some movie with the sound muted. No sign of your roommate, however.

You toss your helmet and keys onto the couch. Then you make your way to the kitchen to search the fridge for a snack (that you know is not there) or perhaps some water. You bend down to peek an eye in, only to stand back up and close the thing. Then you pass over to the counter, and reach up to now peek an eye in the overhead cabinet.

“You’re home early.”

You let out a short-but cathartic- scream, jumping as you turn around. You relax quickly. It’s only Jason, and your face changes from shocked and panicked to simply annoyed.

The man at the other side of the room pulls his infamous red helmet from atop his face. Underneath is a classically masculine, handsome face with eyes that blend between green and blue. Black hair falls free in messy strands, accented by the one white tuft that you’ve claimed reminds you of a skunk. You tilt your head lazily in defeat. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Jason shrugs in his red hoodie and jeans, walking across the room to set the helmet on the coffee table. “Four. Any particular reason you’re home so early?” he flops himself onto the couch and kicks his feet up, crossing them tastefully next to the Red Hood helmet.

You turn back around to continue the task of grabbing a cup from the top cabinet. “It’s been five, and I apologize for assuming I could do what I wanted in my own home.”

“If you have to ask me to stop sneaking up on you five times, you’re probably a really bad vigilante.”

“Fuck,” you mutter as you fill the cup with tap water. “That’s true.”

You turn around to face Jason. His eyes are already on you, illuminated by the blue glow from the television. They linger purely on your form for a moment, then they dip down to narrow at your armor. “Were you the one who killed that guy on the back of main?”

You furrow your brows and look up with pursed lips in thought. “Are you talking about the main diner or the main records shop?”

“Main diner on main street.”

“No, that was Azrael. This was by the records shop.” You raise the glass to your lips.

Jason snaps his fingers. “Oh, that guy. The kid?”

You nod and take another sip of the water. “He just turned eighteen, so you know. Free game. So, what do you want for dinner? Pick something good. I’m going back to the squad so I won’t be here for a few weeks.”

Jason’s brows furrow for a split second, then he perks up attentively. “You’re going back to the task force?” he repeats, though it sounds defeated and disbelieving. Distraught- is that the word you’re looking for?

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I got the letter-” you set the cup of water down and reach a hand into your pocket. Then you pull the crumpled envelope free of its confines and toss it onto the counter, “-today.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow again. This time the movement is quick and curved and almost offended. “So, that’s it then?”

“What’s wrong, Jason?” you smirk. “Did you finally fall in love with your roommate turned friend? I always knew this day would come.”

“Uh, no?”

“Suit yourself.”

You turn back around and begin rinsing the cup out. Jason watches your back, something in his chest sinking. You weren’t his best friend. Besides living together, you weren’t really all that close. You were living a life a lot like his, running around at night as some antihero vigilante. The only difference was that you’d crossed paths with Waller and had managed to make it out of her system alive. Most antihero vigilante’s weren’t so lucky. Most of them died. But now you’re telling Jason right to his face that you’re going back. That you think you’ll only be gone a few weeks when it could just be forever. Sprayed with dark blood all over... what if it was yours?

“Actually,” Jason leans forward. His legs drop from the table and spread open, elbows resting against his knees with a hunched back. “Why don’t you pick dinner tonight?”

The glass clinks against the metal of the sink as you set it inside. Jason almost always picks dinner. Most of the time he chooses burgers or Chinese. Your apartments stove isn’t working, so eating from home really just means a BLT sandwich for the both of you.

“Are you offering because you’re hoping I’ll choose that new steakhouse?” you smile.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” the man replies. “It’s on me.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason meets you on the roof of the building about an hour and a half later. You wanted to go with him, since you’d say his behavior is different from usual, but he was very adamant about you staying in. Jason even encouraged you to go ahead and pick your favorite movie to watch while he’s gone.

When you told him you’d decided on the steakhouse option, you meant it ironically. Between the two of you, money could be described as ‘tight’. Going to a new place like that would mean saving for a while. Furthermore, you hadn’t even given him your order before Red Hood was gone.

To his credit, looking at him now, you wouldn’t change a thing. The first bite of the food is phenomenal. The second bite is just perfect. Jason must have mind reading powers to be so aware of your taste in food- you’d thought he never noticed.

He gets a steak, as predicted. Jason loves steak.

Gotham looks most like itself at night, a view shared between the two of you. Two sets of legs dangle over the side of your building, both of which are clad in heavy boots and armored knees. Jason had decided to go out as his alter ego- a fact he thought he could keep from you by putting his hoodie under his leather jacket.

“I saw you put your helmet by the door,” you tell him. “I know what’s under that sweatshirt.”

“No you didn’t,” is all he says back.

The wind tickles the back of your neck. It ripples through the air in lazy waves, making Jason’s hair ruffle. The white skunk streak disappears and reappears between the darker-than-midnight-sky strands. Behind Jason, the moon is full and lonely. Its only company is the two of you.

“Oh my god,” you stuff your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Hm,” Jason hums in agreement, stabbing his steak once again with a fork in his black to-go box. It’s the next movement of his shoulder that catches your eye.

“Jason, is that cocaine, or powder donut dust?”

Jason glances over at you.

Your eyes linger on the white splotch of something in the wrinkles of red fabric. “Because I asked you not to eat them since there’s only two left.”

Your face slowly falls to one of horror as Jason stays still. With a face of steel, he finally says, “It’s cocaine then.”

“Then?”

“Look what I got you.”

Jason sets his box to the ledge beside him and leans down.

“Worst subject change ever.” You take an angry bite of your meal in an attempt to both silence yourself and to make you feel better. Unfortunately as you pull away from the bite, crumbs attach themselves to your chest plate and stick to your fingers. “Crap. Jason, your dumb food is getting shit all over my stuff!”

When you look over, Jason’s orbs are already on you. His eyes pierce yours, almost unintentionally daring them to look away. The skunk strands glow this close. He holds two things in his hands. The first is a small, brown pot you could balance in the palm of your hand, filled with miniature yellow and red flowers. Scarlet tulips, golden sunflowers, and blonde alstroemerias. In the other hand is a Blu-ray copy of your favorite film.

“Oh,” is all you can muster out.

When was the last time the two of you had actually exchanged gifts? You weren’t lovers, or best friends. You were just friends. It had to have been last Christmas, when you had gotten him a TV subscription for South Park and a pair of socks. Jason had gifted you a new bedframe that he later helped you put together.

A big smile reaches your eyes and makes your cheeks sore. “I haven’t been able to find this anywhere,” you say, taking the movie from his fingers. Your voice comes out pure and genuine. “Thank you.” Your smile grows even larger when you cup the pot of flowers with both hands.

“All of the flower shops were closed,” Jason explains. “Those are plastic. They won’t die anytime soon.”

At that moment, you swear you could’ve kissed him. He’s looking at you like this is all nothing, like he didn’t just drop big money on dinner and flowers for you. Jason knew what food you wanted before you did. He knew your favorite movie when you can’t even remember saying a thing about it. When had any other man or woman been so thoughtful? So romantic? So caring?

You glance down to the film in your lap. “I didn’t think you payed attention this well.”

Jason’s brow quirks upwards. Something flashes in his eyes as he adjusts his position, seven stories up from the ground. “What kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t?” he asks. Something tells you there’s a shyness blooming in that broad chest of his. Jason’s eyes flit downward to the blood on you, before his head dips back upwards to lock a stare with you once more. “You smell nice,” he states.

You look up at him simply. You know your eyes are filled with pure adoration, and that it’s showing all over your face, but you don’t care. Your red hooded, drug pedaling, bat wrangling, gun toting equal roommate is your favorite person in all of Gotham at this exact moment.

Behind Jason, a small bird flits overhead with a flash of crimson. “Hey, look,” you pat Jason’s shoulder. His eyes follow yours until they land on the floor of the roof behind you. “I think it’s a robin.”

“I know that bird,” Jason scowls. “That’s the son of the bitch that keeps waking me up in the morning.”

“Hm?”

You watch as Jason swings his legs over the side and pushes himself from the ledge. One hand reaches into the back of his pants while the other searches his leather jacket pocket for something. After a few seconds, he produces both a clip of ammo and a gun, which connect with a click.

“Ah!” you yelp, placing both the flowers and movie on the brick before copying your friends actions and standing on the roof. Jason hasn’t shot yet, but the gun in his hand is aimed right at the little birdie. He’s got a clean shot. His face remains neutral and unmoving as you take your place beside him.

It’s a full minute, and the robin is still alive and intact. He nibbles on a little crumb of bread. “He looks happy,” you think out loud. The air of Gotham goes quiet up on that roof, despite the distant sirens, music, and people throughout the city. “Are you gonna shoot?”

Jason’s finger lingers over the trigger. Even the slightest of a squeeze would set the weapon off at this point. The balls of your feet move to and froe, anticipating the bang you’re so familiar with. But then Jason lowers the gun completely, and the robin flies away at the movement. “Nah. He’ll feel the pain I dish out in the morning.”

“Don’t be sad,” you nudge Jason. “He’ll be back at six AM tomorrow to wake you up.” You turn to return to your beckoning food on the ledge. “Thanks for all this, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” you hear Jason respond. “Hey Y/N?”

Jason watches you spin until you’re completely facing him. He can see the blood again. How it’s completely standing out against the darkness of your outfit. You look powerful, yeah. And you look like the antihero you’re labeled as. But all Jason sees is a corpse of a... of a friend. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this Waller thing?”

“Yeah?” you reply, as if it were obvious. The stain on you is so haunting it’s easy to think otherwise. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’ll only be a few weeks. I’ll be back before you know it. Then I can show you this sick ass movie.”

Then you go back to walking towards the ledge to retake your seat. But Jason remains standing. He watches as you, the person he thinks of naked so often, get comfortable, your back facing him. And, despite your word, Jason has the sinking feeling that some Suicide Squad mission isn’t the only place Amanda Waller will send you to.

This time, Amanda Waller will send you to your grave.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was supposed to be out on August 16th, for Jason’s birthday. But the concept came to me too late and I spent too long on it. Anyway, here’s some symbolism for ya.

Tulips symbolize unconditional love. Sunflowers symbolize adoration. Alstroemeria’s symbolize devotion. The reader describes the plant in their apartment as turning brown, suggesting it may share a similar fate as the reader as plants go brown when about to die. Robin’s symbolize optimism, a trait the reader displays towards the idea of returning to the Suicide Squad. Robin was also a former identity of Red Hood. Both of which could be why Jason decides to spare the bird.

I’ll go back and proof read this in the morning.

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ketchup-monthly · 3 years

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Night Talks - Chapter 2 Bonus

Loceit (post-relationship)

TWs: self-deprecation, flower mention

They were having a quiet night in, laying together in Janus’ bed, reading, when Logan remembered something he had been meaning to ask Janus for months. He and Janus were in their night clothes, Logan in a pair of shorts and t-shirt, and Janus in a set of gold silk pajamas, with the shorter one laying on Logan’s chest, head turned to the side, looking at his e-reader. Putting a bookmark in his book to mark his page and setting the book down on the nightstand, he placed his hands around Janus’ waist.

“Are you prepared to sleep?” Janus looked up from his book, glancing at him, mismatched eyes sparkling behind blue light glasses.

He shook his head. “I have a question for you, my dear.”

While Logan felt that it may have been underhanded, asking him a personal question in the one room where he can’t lie, it was something that had been weighing on him in the back of his mind.

Janus turned off the e-reader and removed his glasses, leaning further over Logan to place them on top of the book on the side table. He settled back down on his chest, smiling at him. “Of course, love. Ask away.”

“Do you still have that deck of cards that we played gin with?”

“Yes.” He snapped his fingers, materializing the cards in his hand.

Logan took the deck and shuffled through it, taking out the jokers, and one of every face card and an ace. He looked over them again, checking to see if they were the same as they were on that day.

“Why do you ask?” Janus set his chin onto his folded hands, eyebrow cocked.

Logan showed him which cards he had taken from the rest. “I recognize the flowers on these cards, but I am afraid I’m not sure what the meaning of each of them is. Could you tell me, dearest?”

“Of course. Which card would you like me to explain first?”

Logan held up the jokers. “This one has Roman holding a red rose and Remus holding a rhododendron. I know that red roses signify romance, but what do rhododendrons symbolize? And this one has amaryllis and angelica.”

Janus smiled a bit before talking. “Roman is Thomas’ romantic, fanciful side, hence the rose, however he is also Thomas’ ego. Amaryllis means pride. Remus, as goofy as he may act, still poses a threat. Despite that, he also shares the mantle of creativity. Rhododendrons mean danger or beware and angelica mean inspiration.”

“You think Roman is prideful.”

“You do as well, love. I also think that Remus is inspirational. He deserves to hear that more, and not just from me.”

Logan caressed his scaled cheek. “He would believe you, no matter what any of the rest of us say to him.”

“I guess. Shall I explain Patton’s next?”

He excitedly switched the cards in his hand. “White camellia, blue hydrangea, white jasmine, and forget me nots. A very beautiful mix; you have a very good eye.”

“You flatter me. I am colorblind in my left eye.”

Gaze sweeping across Janus’ face, he smiled. “Fascinating.”

He cleared his throat. “White camellias mean you’re adorable, hydrangeas mean gratitude for being understood, while blue ones signify frigidity and heartlessness. White jasmine is sweet love and amiability, and forget-me-nots are, quite aptly, do not forget me.”

Logan thought for a second, placing together what Janus and Patton had gone through together. “He was one of the first to truly accept you in front of Thomas, and is widely considered the sweetest of us. However, he is not always like that, shown through his interactions with Remus. You are thankful that he understood you, and want him to remember that. You are also on good terms with him, but feel hurt that he cannot accept Remus as he has you, and still hold that grudge.”

“Brilliant as always, love.”

He pointed to the jack. “What about Virgil? White clover, red columbine, edelweiss, and coriander.”

“Think of me, anxious and trembling, course and devotion, and hidden worth. What do you think that means when put together?”

“This was just after Virgil had joined us on the other side, so you were missing him. You think very highly of Virgil, and believe that he is more than just ‘Anxiety’, you believe him to be strong, able to stand up, if not for himself, for Thomas, at the very least. You understand that separation from you was for the best for him, but you don’t want him to ignore and block you out forever.”

Janus nodded. “He had good times here as well as bad. I don’t want him to live for the rest of his life remembering me as what he thought I was when he left.”

“And my card? The king? Why am I the king? Not that I’m complaining, my dear, I’m just curious because we were not together at the time.”

“You deserve to be someone’s king, both then and now.”

Logan leaned up and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

Janus pushed the blush off of his right cheek. “Blue hyacinth means constancy, violet means watchfulness, modesty, and faithfulness, clematis means mental beauty, rosemary means remembrance, and savory means interest.”

This time, Logan blushed. The cards were created long before he and Janus had chosen to pursue romantic endeavors, and yet this was still what Janus thought of him.

“And—ahem—and this means…?”

The man on his chest reached a hand out to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. “I find you to be exquisite, inside and out, not only your brain. Your memory is uncanny, you are so very loyal, even to those who may not always deserve that faith that you place in them, and while you see and know so much, you remain humbled. You’re stable, never changing for the negative, remaining by Thomas’ side even when he doesn’t believe he needs you there. And I find myself very interested in you, my love.”

“That’s beautiful, Janus.” He took Janus’ hand and pressed it to his lips. “And yours, my queen? Snapdragon, anemone, belladonna, black-eyes susan, lavender, and bittersweet?”

At this, he went from looking into Logan’s eyes, as he had been since they started talking, to looking to the side, a frown on his face. “Deception and graciousness, forsaken, silence, justice, distrust, and truth.”

His words were barely audible, shame clinging to every syllable.

“Darling, that can’t be what you think of yourself.” Logan’s brow furrowed and he squeezed Janus’ hand softly.

He still didn’t look up. “It’s all I’m good for. I lie, I silence others for my own gain, while I pursue justice, I don’t do it in a way that will help others. The rest of you still don’t trust me fully, after all, I am just a liar. I know the truth, I am the truth, but I am stuck in a gray area between that and deception, never fully filling either. I can act as polite as I please, but Roman and Virgil, and even Patton, still cannot look me in the face and believe what I mean. Thomas still doesn’t trust me. I’m stuck.”

Logan reached up and placed his hands on the sides of Janus’ face, gently turning him back to face him, wiping away tears. “That’s illogical and it’s not true. It may be true to you because you could say it in here, but it certainly isn’t true to me, or Virgil, or Thomas, or anyone else. Yes, you represent deception, but you also represent some facet of truth. Thomas needs you as much as he needs Patton, Roman, or myself. I believe you, I know when you’re telling the truth or lying, and understand the meaning behind what you say. So can Remus, and Virgil.”

Janus sniffed. “Virgil doesn’t, that’s why he left me.”

He shook his head, making sure Janus could see into his eyes, and could see that he was being truthful. “Virgil does know. He was hitting his rebellious phase, he was filling his role more. He got caught up in his own head, tricking himself into believing the opposite of what you meant, and that was making him more anxious than usual. That caused him to lash out in anger or isolate himself to give him a chance to calm down. You are not responsible for what happened to Virgil. He made his own choices. He still cares for you, all of us do, even Roman, but they don’t know you well enough now to be able to show you that they care.”

“But my powers—”

“Your powers are meant to protect Thomas. Yes, at times they can be used to cover up the truth, but the truth can often be ugly and harmful. The mission you have given yourself, keeping Thomas honest to himself, while the others cannot see it, I can. Thomas can. Your pursuit of justice within Thomas, it keeps him going, keeps him from breaking down over things that build up. You are as perfect as you can be, in fulfilling your role, in handling your relationships with us, in almost everything you do and are. You may not believe that about yourself now, but I will spend every day for the rest of our lives making sure you know what I believe.”

More tears spilled out of Janus’ eye, and he hiccuped quietly, rubbing at his face over Logan’s hand, trying to dry his wet cheeks. “You really believe that.”

“I do. And you believe so much about the others, in their strengths. Let yourself believe in you too.” Logan caressed Janus’ cheek with his thumb.

He buried his face in Logan’s neck, wiggling forward before relaxing more than he was. Taking a deep breath, he spoke again, in a small, cracking voice. “Can we sleep now?”

“Of course.” Logan took his glasses off and placed them next to the book, turning off the light. He wrapped his arms around the still trembling form of his partner and settled in.

He was going to make sure that Janus knew how much he meant to everyone, and even if that meant actually talking to the others about speaking to him, showing him that he wasn’t just meant for one single thing, then that’s what Logan would do. In the morning, though, because now he had someone dozing on him, someone who needed sleep as much as he did.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #loceit #ts loceit #janus sanders #ts janus #ts patton #ts roman #ts remus #ts virgil #ts c!thomas #tw self deprecation #s.s. loceit #ketchup writes #tw flowers

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savagetrickster · 4 years

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Perhaps You.

— BNHA BOOKCLUB BINGO EVENT —

anime | character: bnha | todoroki shouto

words: 3,098

prompt/crossed out: “Forehead Kisses”

Themes/Warnings: mildly angsty and pinning with happy ending

Inspiration/Song: a playlist of Korean OSTs from various dramas

Special thanks: @shoutodoki (her dm on discord was spammed by me and i still feel bad about it) and @prismaroyal for helping me when I was struggling with writer’s block for this fic! <3 I love you guys so much!

Beta-readers: @prismaroyal, @pixxiesdust,@hawks-senseis, @todoscript and @shoutodoki YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!! <3

A/n: so this is the continuation to ‘Cause I’m a Fool that I promised! sorry I took so long; work has been keeping me so busy and tired that I can doze off right in front of the laptop every night! I could only work on this during the weekends hence the long delay!

Tags: at the bottom of this post <3

| previous (to ’Cause I’m a Fool)

The setting sun on the horizon waned in the gathering darkness of the approaching night. Long shadows in its orange rays were all over Neverland, between rides, and across the emptying paths.

The cable cars descending down to the main entrance of Neverland were fairly quiet and rather empty, now that most of its visitors had their fill of thrill and fun in the theme park.

Her eyes left the cable car station before them and darted over to her right.

Momo felt her heart flutter for the umpteenth time today.

Beneath his tousled hair that somehow still looked so flattering on him even after all the rides, she couldn’t help noticing how the soft orange glow of the setting sun accentuated his chiseled side profile that ran from his forehead to his prominent and angular chin.

Today at Neverland wasn’t counted as a date, but it was enough.

During the sleepover with the girls at her manor a few weeks ago, it took the mentions of graduation to make her realize her feelings for him.

Over the years, her admiration towards Todoroki Shouto wasn’t as simple anymore, and the thought of parting ways after graduation rattled her.

Even with the girls’ reassurance that she had the highest chance with him, that didn’t mean she was brave enough to say it as it is to him.

A smile softened Momo’s face as her gaze dropped to her curling hand, recalling with a bubbling gleefulness of how he held her hand through the haunted house earlier.

That was probably nothing more than trying not to lose each other in the dark, but the possibility of him feeling the same way about her made the hopeful anticipation inside inevitable.

“That was fun, Todoroki-kun.” Above her pinkish cheeks, her eyes danced as she returned her attention to the man beside her. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Shouto’s eyes reluctantly left the quiet chatroom that seemed to mock him through his phone screen. A subtle yet intense gloom followed him as he raised his head to meet her eyes.

The edges of his lips lifted for a smile, though his heavy heart ached with the clingy thought of the aloofness that lingered from your birthday wish for him from four years ago.

How it remained so, even at the end of today, was like an amplifying backdrop reminding him of the gaping distance between you and him.

His hand joined his other in his pockets to put his phone away.

“No problem, Yaoyorozu, thanks for inviting me.”

The smile on his face wavered slightly but held on as he tried to brush off the provoking reminder which refused to budge.

“We should definitely come here again.”

We? Momo inhaled sharply. Her heart sped.

“I’m sure the others would enjoy this as much as we did.”

Eh?

Her shoulders sank along with her heart.

The long shadow of the cable car station falling over them made Shouto turn his head back to the front to see a staff gesturing urgently at them to an idling gondola.

His hand flew to Momo. “C’mon,Yaoyorozu.”

Surprise snapped her gaze to his grip around her wrist.

Her legs fell in pace behind him as Shouto tugged her along with him in a hasty stride toward the waiting gondola.

A day’s worth of tiredness had caught up with you after spending the entire day with veins full of adrenaline in Neverland.

Everything seemed to be lulling you to sleep.

The gentle vibration running through the idling cable car under you two.

The warmth of Shinsou’s shoulder pressing against your cheek.

The cool breeze occasionally sifting through the opened door beside Shinsou.

The gentle heat of the evening sun beating on your back through the glass walls of the cable car.

Your half-lidded eyes stared drowsily at the empty seat across you and Shinsou.

“Hey, Hitoshi.”

“....Hmm?” You felt his shoulder rumble against your leaning head.

“Tell me if your shoulder gets tired, okay?” You stifled a yawn. “...I’ll move away.”

“It’s fine, just sleep if you want to.” Shinsou's gaze on you softened. “I’ll wake you when we reach the bottom.”

He couldn’t help the tender curl the sleepiness in your voice carved on his lips.

An abrupt shift of weight in the cable car jostled your half-lidded eyes to open fully, in time to watch a couple settle down on the empty seat across, and feel a pair of lips pressing a brief kiss on your forehead.

But all that you could think about was the familiar pair of heterochromic eyes. Staring back at you, wide and stunned.

You blinked. And blinked. And blinked.

Under interlacing red and white tresses, the startlingly pretty irises of stormy gray and frosty turquoise set on a handsome face....only one person you knew had such—

Your head jolted off Shinsou’s shoulder.

—Shouto!

All traces of drowsiness lingering heavily in your body was shaken off with a sense of panic rushing through you. This time, you were fully awake.

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

Despite the time that had passed, your feelings for him still remained strong.

But it did not mean you wanted to see him.

Not yet. And definitely not now.

You weren’t ready — ready for what? You didn’t know, but after years and years away from him, he was a stranger.

A stranger you knew too much about. One that you’ve been wanting to be around but not at all at the same time.

You could feel Shinsou’s questioning gaze on you while your eyes held the stare across you. Like a deer caught in the headlights, you were frozen, not knowing what to do next.

Stuck between giving a mere smile and a verbal acknowledgement, you watch the stunned opened expression close like a book on his face, unreadable despite the slight clench between his brows.

Shouto’s lips were set in a hard line.

He couldn’t quite tell what the ambiguous twinge in his chest was for. Was it discomfort because meeting you like this was too sudden?

But the provoking bitter undertone in the ridge inside told him there was another reason which wasn’t as simple.

That it had a lot to do with the intimate kiss he witnessed planted on your forehead by—

Shouto swiveled his eyes to your right, to the man who had fallen past his notice the moment he saw you.

—Shinsou...? His eyes widened the second time.

“Eh Shinsou-san?” He was apparently not the only one who just realized who sat across them.

His gaze made his way over to Momo, not noticing the cloud that fell over your face as your gaze left Momo and fell onto her slender wrist in his hand.

The small jerk of the whirring gondola drew your quiet eyes away to watch it glide out of the station.

You didn’t see the pensive heterochromic eyes which had left the idle chatters between Momo and Shinsou behind to return to you.

Especially the wistfulness in them, as you tried to think of...well, nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing about hands.

The ascension to the top from the main entrance with Shinsou earlier in the day was a swift five minutes, but somehow the way back down felt like time was crawling.

You felt yourself deflating from within as you became overly self-conscious of yourself.

You knew enough about Yaoyorozu Momo to recognize her right away, albeit meeting her for the first time.

You’ve seen how well she worked with Shouto in the event broadcasts from U.A. High and how the rumored relationship between Shouto and her arose from then.

Being a young model popular enough to be featured in magazines, this speculated connection between the two garnered support, running incessantly in the background no matter how much Momo denied in her interviews on the pages.

And now that you were seeing them with your own eyes, from the flustered way Momo denied Shinsou’s question with a blushing shy gaze on Shouto, you were almost convinced they were all true.

The bitterness, no matter how much you wanted it to stop, kept antagonizing you with its nasty voice.

That she was everything you were not, and seemed to complement Shouto in every way possible.

Along with the natural charisma she radiated in their descending gondola, it was hard to miss how picture perfect they looked sitting side by side.

Of how fitting it was for someone handsome like Shouto to end up with a woman elegantly beautiful like Momo.

Similar to Shouto, you’d recall reading in the magazines that she came from an esteemed hero wealthy family and was enrolled into U.A. High because of her powerful quirk.

Not only was she beautiful, the amicable mature way she carried herself, and the bright, bubbly way she introduced herself to you made you like her instantly.

Like moths to a flame, you found yourself growing fond of her.

However, you just couldn’t fathom why his eyes never left you when Momo was right there being possibly the more captivating person in the gondola to gaze upon, besides himself.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to meet them. Your heart that was sinking with your self-esteem just wouldn’t let you.

It was easy to avoid his eyes with Momo drawing most of your attention, but you could feel his gaze on you and at times see his eyes on you from your peripheral vision.

Even without fully glancing at him, words brimming and threatening to spill behind his quiet, pinning demeanor was almost tangible enough to make your skin prickle.

The same urge resonated in you. Too much to say but not knowing how. Too much nostalgia that it hurt so much.

You missed him.

Loving Todoroki Shouto and everything he was, you could not forget him and your feelings for him no matter how hard you tried in the past tiring years, with so much aching pain in your heart.

Worrying for him.

Crying for him.

Waiting for him, when all signs told you to just stop.

But now that you’d seen him the way he was now, you knew you probably should.

You could feel something different about him. The frost he used to radiate was no longer there, and part of you wondered whether it had something to do with the woman beside him.

The intense sense of forlorn filling you that came with it made sitting in their presence unbearable. So when the gondola finally jerked to a stop, an inevitable heavy sigh of relief left you silently.

The door slid open behind Momo and the moment Shinsou moved, you did as well. You rose to your feet with jittery flutters in your guts, eager to get out the stifling seat across him.

The crippling weight of your doubts made it hard to breathe and you desperately needed to get away before the tears threatening to escape you showed.

You bid them goodbye the moment you could leave.

Shouto’s eyes stayed on your stiff back. His eyes were soft and wavering uncertainly as he watched you with uneasiness pounding in his heart.

The sight of the growing distance between your walking figure and him tugged an unexplainable fear palpable enough to make him ache with a bitter yearning.

So strong that it hurt.

The same dark, sinking feeling invoked by the quiet chatroom in his phone reminded him once again.

—that he couldn’t lose you. Not again.

A steel glint of determination sharpened the look in his gaze.

— And definitely not now when you were right here, before his very eyes.

“Thanks for the treat, Yaoyorozu.” Shouto threw a curt smile at Momo who blinked back in hasty surprise, and another at Shinsou.

“I’ll see you guys in school.”

Not another word, he left two puzzled faces staring after him as he ran after you. His jaw was clenched to his gritted teeth as his long legs quickly covered the distance you left behind.

His hand flew out to catch your arm.

“—Wait.”

Your eyes sprang wide at the voice and the large, warm hand halting your tracks by your wrist.

Even though this voice was no longer round and boyish, you knew who it belonged to.

"Can we talk?" His voice was low with a husky undertone to its depth.

You spun around with a snappy sigh.

"Talk?”

Still accustomed to his old height, you found yourself staring at a sculpted chest clad in a stretched v-neck shirt instead when you turned.

Your eyes darted up.

"Oh, so now you wanna talk after ignoring me for four years?"

Now you weren’t just sad.

"Look Shou— Todoroki-san,” An icy hand closed around his heart at how you corrected yourself, “you don’t have to force it. I'm totally okay with this."

The storm of emotions within you simmered over the years was rearing its ugly, bitter head — anger, frustration, melancholy...

At your misfortune for bumping into him today.

At him.

And mostly, at yourself.

You hate the way they gripped you. The last thing you wanted to do was to lash out at him like that, but your mouth just wouldn’t stop.

"I'm really sorry if I was such an annoying inconvenience back then, being so nosy about your problems. I get it, I thought so too.”

Words were tumbling one after another, churned out of you by the pent-up emotions.

"I can see you're happier now and have such a wonderful girl who obviously loves you.”

You didn’t see the way his eyes wavered in bewilderment at you. “I'm happy for you, really."

The tears you’d been trying to hide which were pouring out of your eyes didn’t let you.

You stared up at Shouto through a shimmering lens of tears and blinked them away.

Shouto’s mouth opened, then closed as he watched tears roll down your cheeks, stunned.

“Let’s just pretend today didn’t happen, okay?”

Your voice shook as you lowered your tearful gaze. You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore.

“...let’s just forget about this,” Your lips trembled as you sensed more than saw him tense. “All of this.”

You should have known from day one that Todoroki Shouto was from an entirely different world.

He was the elite while you were meant to blend into the background.

He was powerful, gifted with remarkable quirks while you were powerless with none.

You were a fool.

A fool for waiting.

A fool for hoping.

A fool for pinning after a man who was out of your league.

But you were done being one.

You could almost feel your own heart breaking as you turned away from him.

Enough was enough.

“...Farewell, Todoroki-san.”

Incredulity in Shouto’s eyes followed you. He could not believe what he just heard.

His hand snapped around your wrist and the last thing he saw was the surprise amidst your tears before he hugged your trembling form to him.

It happened too fast, too sudden.

You only realized he was holding you when he spoke.

“I don’t know what you are rambling on about,” The warmth of his chest rumbled against your cheek as you released a shaky breath.

“...but it’s clear that you have absolutely no idea that I can’t be any happier without you.”

Your eyes sprang wide with shock. You tried to process his words drowning in the deafening pounding of your heart you could hear in your ears.

What...?

“Hold on,” You flinched away, ripping yourself out of his arms as if he had scalded you.

This time, it was your turn to look at him in bewilderment.

“Wait wait wait, wha-what did you say?”

A brief pause of silence ensued in your question as you raised a hand to wipe your tears away.

The broad shoulders looming over you were lined with stiffness and so was the look on his face. He looked like he was mulling hard over something.

A shuddering sigh escaping Shouto broke his silence.

“In these few years, what does it mean when I can’t get you out of my mind?”

A flicker of conflict flashed across his eyes as he raked through his hair, the red and white tresses overlapping in the trail behind his hand.

“I haven’t figured it out,” You felt your breath catch in your throat at the intensity of the piercing gleam in his prodding eyes.

“...but I know you are important. Way too important for me to forget.”

Your heart raced as you watched him lower his gaze solemnly to the ground.

“It’s just that...I’m a coward when it comes to you so I’m sorry I made you feel like you’re not.”

His jaw was set in a clench.

“Simply put, I was—” Shouto paused, his fingers slipped free of his hair which fell back over his eyes in a tousled flattering mess. “Nevermind what I was.”

His voice was quieter now as he raised his eyes to you. “I just don’t want to lose you again.” —and for once today, you could actually read him.

The pain in his eyes wasn’t the one you’d seen growing up beside him. It did not have an icy edge like back then.

Instead, the pain in the depth of his eyes was soft and had a remorseful tug of longingness.

And the fact that this look was zeroed on you, you found it hard to breathe in the wistful ache that held you, resonating along with the one you could practically feel radiating from him.

You don’t know what came over you—

“...Shouto.”

—but the tangible air of something powerful between you two made you utter his name, carried over to him in a voice barely over a whisper.

You weren’t sure who went over to who, but all you noticed was how he was towering over you now.

Close enough for you to see a breathtaking softness amongst the colors of his eyes.

Close enough to see his eyelashes lower with his gaze as he drew his head close to yours.

There was a hesitant linger of his intense eyes on your lips you didn’t miss before he pressed his lips between your eyebrows.

“I’m never letting you go again.” His lips whispered against your forehead.

Tags: @shoutodoki, @todoscript, @pixxiesdust, @sugacookiies, @wesparklebitch, @bnhabookclub, @kageybee, @skycrit, @khemz1312, @itachianddazai, @shippingangel, @anaajulia125, @jisunguwuuu, @lowermoons, @ladyhitsu88, @toothirsty4main, @shamelessyouthqueen, @platinumbelle, @jinks-world, @yurioseokies, @thegalxe, @winkenthusiastic, @ewwis, @licura1209, @justsomekid00, @sauce-pansexuals, @bananahannah, @warriorsofficial, @morenabambinii, @apricotjihyo, @dragonhrte, @hanniejji, @etegomanere

#todoroki shouto #bnha shouto #shouto x reader #mha shouto #shouto x you #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha shoto #shoto torodoki #mha shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki #bnhabookclub bingo event 2020 #bnhabookclub

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-23

More homestuuuuuck

I’m a little tired today so I don’t expect much intelligent analysis out of myself, but if anything classpecty happens I doubt I’ll be able to help myself regardless.

oh, always

(EDITS: added note on horn colors, link to ask on potential Blood powers reference)

> CHAPTER 12. Really Convoluted Metaphorical Horseshit

cuuute

In the bowels of a different ship, at a moment in time that is not pinpointable in either direction from the previous interaction, another Dave raps quietly to himself.

another dave raps quietly to himself. i am glad that phrase exists it brings me joy

(LATER EDIT: A friend on Discord pointed out that throughout this entire update, Karkat's horns are #FF0000 red. They were normal candy-corn colors in previous glimpses at the ship crew, though they used a dark single-color shortcut typical of old Homestuck at one point... but THIS time it stays STARK red even when we zoom in close later. Is this just artistic liberty? Did Karkat color his horns for fashion? Does this happen to red-bloods like the Sufferer after a certain age? Just how much time has actually passed, here? We might have to wait for the commentary for this one.)

KARKAT: I WAS SAYING I THOUGHT WE MIGHT GO, I DUNNO, ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE SHIP WHILE THE CLOTHES WERE WASHING. KARKAT: SEEING AS THIS DECREPIT MACHINE WE WERE SO BLESSEDLY PROVIDED WITH MAKES A WHIRRING SOUND SO PANCHAFINGLY ARHYTHMIC THAT IT THREATENS TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TEMPO FROM THE UNIVERSE.

Karkat really has chilled out hasnt he? like this is surprisingly level for him, and that fact is hilarious.

KARKAT: AND YET SOMEHOW BASICALLY ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED SINCE WE STARTED THE LOAD IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN USING IT AS A FUCKED UP BEAT TO WHISPER TO YOURSELF ABOUT FLOWERS TO.

oh gosh that’s why he’s rapping

> ==>

DAVE: kanaya was telling me this kids story the other day about this dude who didnt cherish a flower enough until it peaced out to do flower stuff idk its not pertinent to the story DAVE: except the flower was a person DAVE: because it was a metaphor

Oh right, coming back to the Little Prince stuff I was too lazy to metaphor-deep-dive into, and literally asking the same questions we were asking about who the Little Prince’s story applies to mapped here if anyone at all, like Dirk and such, or what biases were in the retelling of it and the way Kanaya phrased it. So now we’re practically mocking it by deep diving it here, hence the last page’s “DAVE: i was just thinking through some really convoluted metaphorical horseshit”, which means we’re both about to further explore AND shit all over the existence of this story metaphor until it doesn’t mean anything and most of the meaning we drew from it earlier is made a joke~

well, not “we”, cause I was too lazy, so... y’all

DAVE: anyway what goes down in the story is that once the flower lady is out of the picture DAVE: the main character goes around making all these connections between her and everything else in the universe until every damn thing feels like a symbol for how much he fucked up and how much he will never see her again KARKAT: THIS SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING INTENSE FOR A KID'S STORY DAVE: yea thats pretty much what i said

Oh holy shit. That’s yet another way to put it. Are we doing a whole moral takedown of the Light aspect today? cause it sounds like we’re taking a dump on the Light aspect and RoboRose getting too obsessed and immersed in it, which would be excellent

DAVE: but i guess its not so much what the story was technically textually about but more like the version of it kanaya internalized and then told me when we were talkin about how she misses rose

exactly

DAVE: so like now im taking the story she told me she was projecting her feelings onto and projecting my feelings on top of that

yes absolutely, you just rephrased it a different way with that exact same bias

DAVE: this is just one big game of emotional projection telephone so feel free to go paraphrase it to roxy later and make it about whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing

perfect. i need an emoji for that Italian thing for when you pinch your thumb and forefinger together and kiss it

ah this’ll do:

its like the expression “choice” but in nonverbal form

[...] whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing KARKAT: YOUR ABILITY TO GET TO THE POINT DAVE: gotem DAVE: anyway you’re not gonna have to miss that skill of mine for long DAVE: get ready for this shit because i am about to slap you with the point so hard youll fall ass first into the washer DAVE: just scrambling around in there getting all sudsy DAVE: but your brain is gonna be so blasted from the mindfreak of a point im about to make that there wont be anything left to clean

Anytime dave is told to get to the point he is contractually obligated to spend at least 20 seconds talking about how he’ll get to the point in a way that is not getting to the point

DAVE: so its genuinely cool that kanaya can go around creating meaning that may or may not be actually present in every little thing DAVE: connecting every feeling she has to the idea of her wife existing out there DAVE: so i told her she should keep that shit up DAVE: but im having the opposite issue where im struggling to find anything to be that kind of tether because every single thing i could possibly consider about what it is were doing just reminds me of yet another thing to be afraid about

Great examples of Light being good and bad! Attaching strands of connective meaning to everything. --though, in Dave’s case AND Kanaya’s case you could argue it’s both bad in terms of effects. That it’s great for Kanaya to care, but that she should be able to divest herself and live on her own terms without idealizing Rose literally everywhere she looks, personal growth which would be useful in helping bring Rose back to her in the first place. The struggle they’re looking forward to is largely philosophical, not just physical, and until Rosebot acknowledges that she was wrong it’s not over.

DAVE: everything fuckin sucks huge cosmic donkey sack and im terrified KARKAT: OK, SO I FEEL LIKE YOU SKIPPED A COUPLE NECESSARY STEPS IN YOUR POINT CLARIFICATION PROCESS.

Pretty sure Dave was on the same page as most Epilogue and start-of-HS2 readers. This situation is pretty bleak to dump our heroes into, no matter how much we believe will be resolved in the long run.

DAVE: ok but were you going with sweet or savory please give me that much at least KARKAT: YEAH IT WAS GOING TO BE SUNDAE-BASED. DAVE: nice KARKAT: YEAH. KARKAT: DO YOU WANNA WATCH MORE GBBO AFTER THIS? DAVE: absolutely

--ah, Great British Bake-Off, can’t say I’ve indulged

do they still have that?? did they save it from old Earth? or did they go where unflooded Britain used to be and say hey, new show reboot

KARKAT: GREAT. ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING, FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HUMAN CHRIST, PLEASE BACK UP TO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCARED OF. KARKAT: ALSO COME HERE, IDIOT.

That last line is like, exactly as fucking sweet and awesome as we imagined their relationship to be. :)

> ==>

OH MY GOD THAT’S ADORABLE

DAVE: ok yeah this is a better position to unleash all my inner fears n anxieties from

indisputably.

DAVE: those times its like my mouth was saying words about the situation wherein our friends are AWOL and maybe dead but my brain wasnt fully letting me experience the emotion that goes along with them DAVE: man its like i cant even start genuinely thinking about how afraid i actually am for rose and john without my brain flippin its wad and whiting out DAVE: like haha fuck i hope theyre ok DAVE: now i better make a fuckin joke before i succumb to the gaping mouth of despair waiting for me to fall in it as soon as i look down and acknowledge that its there ogling how juicy my ass looks as it trembles with terror

I really hope that the writers of HS2 know full well that this feeling? the one Dave is describing here? is what many of us who got way overinvested in the well-being of Homestuck’s surviving characters felt reading the Epilogues and Homestuck^2. So I really hope they’re working through it in a way that will result in a preponderance of GOOD THINGS happening and hope-filled situations. Cause that “can’t even think about X” feeling is too familiar, and if they understand it as well as it LOOKS like they’re getting to, I’d really like them to give us a helping hand healing.

I think that’s what they’re going for? Seems hopeful for me to think so, but they HAVE been doing better as HS2 has been going forward, from an emotional standpoint anyway; definitely better than the Epilogues. And I’ve worked through some of that stuff with the help of that, because it’s MUCH easier nowadays to think about Homestuck without my gut clenching.

DAVE: i guess im just fucked up about how to worry about dirk and be angry at him at the same time DAVE: because if i get as unholy pissed at him as i sometimes wanna be i also gotta admit to myself that maybe i coulda done something different there

Mhmm, Karkat’s potentially a pretty good person to speak with here since he’s done so much work trying not to feel responsible for everything that’s ever gone wrong.

DAVE: also like DAVE: and this by the way adds a whole other layer of guilt on there that i dont really know how to fuckin reckon with but DAVE: even with all the shit hes pulled and the fact that we are more or less heading toward having to take him down DAVE: whatever that is gonna mean and whether or not he planned it like that DAVE: i just DAVE: me and him had come so far with each other and it was really cool for a while to have him and i DAVE: ugh DAVE: i dont WANT to hate him

Yeah, Dirk and Jane’s heel-turns were really shitty for anyone who was a fan of them in the fanbase, as well.

KARKAT: WELL THEN QUIT FUCKING PICKING AT THE SEAM ON MY SHORTS AND SPIT IT OUT. THEY'RE BARELY HANGING ON TO THE DEFINITION OF "SHORTS" AS IT IS.

That is an adorably real boyfriend-laying-in-boyfriend’s-lap thing to do

DAVE: the part i mentioned before about how we really have no goddamn clue how long this trip is even gonna take DAVE: i cant help but feel like its barely getting revved up DAVE: and for me and roxy and jade and callie and kan thats normal shit at best and boring at worst but we all have our immortality to thank for that DAVE: we can just dick around in space for near-eternity waiting to catch up to our friends who may or may not be our enemies now and itll be fine DAVE: i mean no itll be categorically miserable DAVE: but well survive it KARKAT: HOLD THE FUCK ON. DAVE: but you KARKAT: DAVE. DAVE: no lemme say this

Oh god damnit. Karkat’s limited lifespan. As if we hadn’t ALREADY covered a nauseatingly extensive gamut of disheartening topics of conversation. We really have to confront every shred of misery in their past, present and future one after the other after the other in the Epilogues and HS2, don’t we? >:(

I guess it had to be discussed, though.

DAVE: we dont talk about it much and i got shit to say about it DAVE: its not like i never thought about how youre mortal before but i just thought wed be able to figure it out before it mattered DAVE: come up with some kind of plan DAVE: i was just distracted being happy with you i fucking guess and so i didnt think up a way to fix it DAVE: and now thanks to dirk we have to work it out right the fuck now DAVE: because i cant spend this trip just sitting around watching you get old and die

Jesus. I mean, WE know(?) that it’s not gonna be THAT many years, but THEY don’t know that.

Unless it really IS going to be that many years and HS2 is going to shamelessly take a fucking sledgehammer to our feelings for no goddamn good reason. Which it won’t! Right??? >:T

> ==>

Dishwasher ding

> Dave: Grapple with the clean, soggy consequences of the passage of time.

Hey, don’t make it a metaphor here. --though, fuck. I suppose we are dealing with everyones dirty laundry. God damnit. SURE, deal with it all story but then GET IT OUT OF THE WAY AND PUT SOME SERIOUS FUN AND LAUGHS IN HERE so we don’t feel like we’re wading through an entire garbage dump!!! *click*

Karkat’s eyebrows-only mouthless frown is really cute.

> ==>

okay Karkat explain the nope you’re lodging

> ==>

*put*

> ==>

*foot*

> ==>

DAVE: ok go on

I mean I at least appreciate the time investment in adorable boyfriends. That’s definitely something of SOME good value they’re giving us in exchange for this misery

> ==>

That Karkat image makes me wanna do that red-shaky-gif-thing with it

KARKAT: IT'S NOT LIKE I'M NEW TO THE PARTICULAR MOOBEAST WRANGLING EVENT OF SOMEONE I PREVIOUSLY LOVED BRUTALLY TURNING ON ME AND LEAVING ME TO TRY AND CRAM MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE SITUATION BACK TOGETHER ALL ON MY OWN.

True

KARKAT: HE DID THAT ON HIS OWN. AND WE MADE THE CHOICE TO GO AFTER HIM ON OUR OWN.

Yes, and you’ll possibly convince him more of that over time, though not in this short conversation

KARKAT: I WAS FOLLOWING YOUR LITTLE TRAIL OF COOKIE CRUMB FEARS UNTIL IT LEAD TO THE BIG SNACK FINALE OF WORRY ABOUT MY FRAGILE MORTAL MEATSACK. KARKAT: IF I HAVE SOMEHOW NOT BEEN CLEAR ABOUT THIS WITH YOU YET, LET ME GO AHEAD AND RECTIFY THE SITUATION RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. KARKAT: HANGING OUT WITH YOU ON THIS LONG TRIP TO WHO THE SHITTING FUCK KNOWS WHERE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE HAPPIEST I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY ENTIRE MEAGER EXISTENCE. KARKAT: I'M SO ABSOLUTELY BLISSED THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND TO BE ABLE TO LOOK AT YOUR STUPID IMMORTALLY SMOOTH HUMAN FACE SKIN EVERY DAY AND NOT HAVE A COMPLEX ABOUT IT.

D’AWWW

And with that darkly angry expression too, that’s PERFECT

I mean it’s true. What exactly would they be doing DIFFERENTLY on Earth C other than enjoying each other like this? It’s pretty fucking great.

...hm. Isn’t this journey-not-the-destination stuff pretty Breathy? Karkat’s proving more balanced by the moment.

KARKAT: AND I'LL BE STRAIGHT WITH YOU. IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN EXPERIENCING SOME COMPLICATED GUILT, MYSELF. KARKAT: THE FACT THAT I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE JUST FUCKING CHILLAXING AND BEING IN LOVE IN SPACE IS A CLEARLY INCONGRUOUS WITH THE REASON I'M ACTUALLY HERE CHILLAXING TO BEGIN WITH, AND I'M NOT LETTING MYSELF FORGET THAT, EITHER.

Pff. He feels guilty for ENJOYING IT so much. <3

KARKAT: BUT I RESENT THE IMPLICATION THAT MY HAPPINESS IS REGISTERING FOR YOU AS YOU HAVING TO JUST "SIT AROUND AND WATCH ME GET OLD," BECAUSE I KNOW YOU KNOW IT'S MORE THAN THAT.

I’m glad Karkat knows that DAVE knows somewhere in him that it’s more than that, because yeah, if Karkat thought he DIDN’T know that at some level that’d be a reason to take MUCH MORE SERIOUS offense.

KARKAT: LIKE, JESUS, DAVE. YOU KNOW I'M AFRAID FOR YOU, TOO, RIGHT? KARKAT: OR DID YOU FORGET THE WHOLE HEROIC DEATH THING? KARKAT: I WORRY ABOUT LOSING YOU FAIRLY FUCKING REGULARLY.

Hah!!! Point taken. Karkat must view Dave as practically more fragile than HIM.

KARKAT: ONE: WE'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA THAT I REFUSE TO NOT ENJOY THIS SHIT WHEN I FINALLY FUCKING GET IT, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT MAY OR MAY NOT LAST. KARKAT: TWO: IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE DOING NOTHING. WE’RE MOVING. WE’RE WORKING. WE’RE HEADED SPECIFICALLY TO A PLACE WHERE WE WILL UNDOUBTLEDLY ENDURE YET MORE FUCKING HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA. KARKAT: AND THREE: WE'RE DOING THAT BECAUSE WE HAVE FRIENDS WHO WE CARE ABOUT THAT NEED US. THAT IS OUR FOCUS, HERE. NOT OUR FEAR. IT'S ABOUT THE PEOPLE WE HAVE TO SAVE. KARKAT: SO DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT ME, DAVE. I'M FINE.

Okay, this is great and wholesome. I am now retroactively GLAD that this topic got brought up. :)

> ==>

Dave is still afraid. There is a part of him that will always be, he thinks. He has accepted this about himself. There is another feeling coursing through him too, though. It’s something he's felt before, though never quite so intensely. He looks up at Karkat and understands, viscerally, the simple power his words have. They pump through Dave’s own body, alive and warm and true.

He wonders if Karkat realizes it, or if he’s just, as always, saying what he feels as he feels it. Dave doesn’t attempt to dissect it further. There will be time for that later.

Every really loving moment like this is sort of undercut by the fact that it’s also, in some senses, part of alt!Calliope’s narration and, by extension, her fanfiction.

EDIT 2: There's also either a hint to potential Blood powers or even an explicit Blood power use here that I didn't recognize. I'm leaning towards it's-laying-the-groundwork-for-future-use-of-Blood-powers-but-isnt-magical-in-this-case.

> ==>

Smooooch!

That was nice. Still gonna wait on doing any commentary til next time or a Bonus update or two, cause I’m beat. See y’all next time!

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers #Breath and Blood #Light and Void

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anikkis-fantasirealities · 3 years

Text

“The Banquet Rooms of the Grandeur Campus”

③ Human Interest Story ┊ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵒ ʸᵉᵃʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᶦᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵒᵘᵗʰ···ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵍᵉⁿᵘᶦˢᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿˢ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵍᵒᵒᵈʷᶦˡˡ·

꒰⁺˚₊·₍₍loading...₎₎ ✎...۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ -ˏˋ 📨 ˊˎ-

༘✶ ㊉㈦〘 ⅯⅯ 〙⋆｡˚𓆟 ༉ ║ Posted : ０６/１５/２１° ｡༄ ‧₊˚ ๑ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ •ଓ.° ｡❍ ㈩㊇

- - ——— ꒰ An article by Nicole “Nikki” Elaine S. Chua ꒱

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ࿐ྂ—͙❬₊° ᶦ ᵃᵐ ᵃ ᵇˡᵒᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ·“= ‹⸙͎

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┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

┊ ┊ ┊ ✫

┊ ┊ ︎✧

┊ ┊ ✯

┊ . ˚ ˚✩

On a scorching afternoon where the shouting of children, chasing each other after classes have concluded, and the chattering adults have started to lock up the messy rooms, there was not one place that was quiet. I, on the other hand, had a quest to fulfill under a time limit! The red ballpen flung onto my chair desk when white sheets of paper were clenced by my thin palms. I ran outside past our broken doorstep to our class, over the pastures, and on top of stone-edged floors. Time is ticking... 4, 3, 2, and those squeaky black dull shoes made it! In opening the slim door to the right side of the room, they were like glorifying gates that screeched wide open—awaiting for my arrival. Well, it wasn’t that dramatic, but I was perspired out of sprinting under the gleaming sun. My short legs wobbling for a tiny second. The beads dripping on my worried face were shaken when I entered the room at around the size of a studio-type residence.

It was normal for me to be an errand girl who assists her class and obey her teachers with respect, no matter what school my identification card is designated to. I grew up with that kind of personality: helpful, caring, kind, diligent, and patient. Hence, these exhausted shoes have travelled to many places across gymnasiums, libraries, storage rooms, and laboratories. Though, sometimes, my mind still can’t get used to such a huge room, like that of the faculty rooms. I still become staggered over the hectic aura of the space, where long tables sat in rows, and people in pink & blue uniforms kindling the noise from the outside within. I would look around to see piles of examination papers, rolls of cartolina squeezed into a box, and scattered gadgets for teaching being charged to full energy. This is an article featuring the 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙀𝙧𝙖 𝙐𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙮: 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡.

Throughout the years I’ve walked on those narrow corridors, and climbed up stairs to different floors of the vintage buildings, I also meet ways with many generations. One generation was younger than me—that of clumsy children innocently playing in the fields endlessly. The other was of my age, those who exist with me, as they attempt to finish their studies without tilting their heads to nudges of distraction. Then, there was this generation who were much similar to us—like students in a classroom laughing and sharing stories with each other. They had the knowledge of the world in their hands. In their arms, they carry heavier packages to unbox. Though, unlike the previous generations I meet who simply stepped up and down the stairs, the prudent grown-up smiled back to me, walking slowly pass my agitated shoulder.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

ㅤㅤ ❝ That room that I remember the most, ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ was under construction before the pandemic began. ❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

I had the desire to help them lift their troubles by standing by their side, but they refuse because it is the role they signed up for, and my position had no power to be elevated to their level. Though, through these words, I know I would be able to do something to display their everyday lives behind teaching the New Era youth, giving the best advice, and serving the school with unconditional love. I was given the chance to be closer to the people who inspired me to present the compassionate self with the direction, ambition, and deduction to offer my best contribution to the world I belong to.

At the back of those generalized comforting grins and caring embraces, come their different fairytales that make the generation a community of teachers—young or old, millennial or Gen X, whatever gender and status they may have. They were a social generation, with hundred of stories to unfold and share to the youth. That was one thing I admired about them the most.

Well, I have encountered many teachers in my life since entering school, but the memory that always stick to my mind is my experiences with the teachers of New Era University: Integrated School. For some, they would cover their face when they recognize their teachers riding on a public vehicle rushing to its detination. Others simply ignore their respected educators when they spot them being at school even if the sun has already tucked in for the day.

However, I was one of those students who waves and greets them with my two-front teeth sticking out in happiness—trekking my way to school, riding shiny metallic jeepneys, and walking through scrapped walls that used to be fully painted. The inspiration flows out when I’m with them—a witness of their trials and ever-changing biographies in their very own home, the school, itself. Yes, the school becomes their shelter, figuratively, because that is how passionate they are in the path they’ve chosen to wander upon.

Then, there’s this vague image that I always remember—a banquet room where teachers eat together side-by-side during lunch breaks. The clanging of plates and utensils compliments the happy vibe of the room. The meals packed in transparent plastic bags from the canteen look fancy because of the optimistic mood all throughout the proximity in between me and the busy adults. Oh, and how could I not forget to mention the signature pancakes by New Era University: Integrated School that some teachers indulge in the most?

The giggles never end when I hear their jokes from afar, while I am walking through their room to return the checked papers I’ve finished to my Filipino teacher in Grade 10. Everyone was like workers in a castle of royalty—busy and preoccupied with their own duties, yet working towards one united purpose, that together creates a vibrant mix of emotions in the great hall. The harmonized melody it produces once the sweat and tears has finally been paid off, truly, the lunch breaks are what makes the banquet more lively. It’s a feast to behold!

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ㅤㅤ❝ Whenever I catch my name, I return it, ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤwith my good-natured, ‘Hi po, Sir and Ma’am!’ ❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

On one side were the lockers, where old and new student’s projects filled the barren storage with interesting information. There are multiple brown wooden tables overlapped with colorful designs where groups of teachers sit together. The masters of Science sat at the bench to the wall at the right, while the experts in English stay behind a counter adjacent to the door on the right. People who speak of Filipino, Math, Computer, and MAPEH had benches next to each other in the middle of the bustling hall that was their faculty room. They are not divided, literally, for their workplaces are not distanced from one another. Each part of the table has a customized area per teacher, whose pictures of blood-related family and schedules are inserted under transparent cover—giving them motivation to carry on their sworn responsibility. However, just like BFFs who stick together, some teachers transfer to other tables to enjoy the rest of the day with their close co-faculty members.

They would talk about their personal lives, their interests, and at times, the students & problems they encounter in classes. Some gave glee, but of course, there were also those that gave headaches. That’s why whenever I am presented with a new subject teacher per grade level, I can understand if the they know me well from the narrations of the teachers who’ve handled me. They are aware of my struggles, efforts, and kindness as a pupil of New Era. They are familiarized with this face, the expression, and its body language.

Though, I am still proud that they recognize my batchmates dedication, too. Each teacher imparted values to all their children equally. There was no favoritism, and everyone gets a chance to participate. When we make mistakes, we are still accepted and loved. All this, even though they are humans who are aroused by intense feelings? No matter how impressive, or lowly we are, it is that chance to be better that we are most thankful about in this palace of high education.

All the pictures you’ve seen so far contain significant beings in my life as a student-soon-to-be-adult. That’s the magic of being someone not so known in society or history, but will remain a treasured person in your life—a special connection only you and that person understands, and not everyone else does. Even though I tend to stutter and zip my mouth when I am often in the loud banquet when I do not want to disturb the delightful get-alongs by our educators, eventually I am noticed and asked, “What are you doing here, Nicole Chua?” It’s the admiration that regardless if I was hidden or completely revealing of myself, they help me to speak out and be more confident with the adults. That is something that I also want to influence my classmates with, because these teachers outside lessons and activities are not so intimidating & looming at all!

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

ㅤㅤ ㅤ❝ I can recall the cooked dishes and the grades for judging, and I cherish them knowing you cannot taste them again. ❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

They are friendly, approachable, and absolutely considerate of the many kids they manage from Mondays to Fridays. Off campus is a different story that I can’t personally share for the privacy of their lives, though I would say it’s rough. It’s rough to come back home—to take care of your very own children while finishing school records, bringing along the stress from work into their real dwelling. They are not just mothers and fathers of the campus that caters hundreds of beautiful princes and princesses. They are also parents worried of their own children’s future.

The sicknesses, the loans, the quarrels, and the trickling hourglass—all this is what they must face in the cold, dry evenings. They are vulnerable to all these things that makes them a part of reality, and not just some fantasy with no flaws. It didn’t matter if they were in the coordinator’s office, the cookery laboratory, the office in the second floor, or that special place on the fourth floor. I was there to hear their encounters with their rude children, or the sweet marriage they had. If I clean harder, dart quicker, and volunteer even more, I can appreciate them who were not supernatural beings veiled in fiction. They sacrifice for that hope, that they will teach the next generations how to educate those after them, and those before them. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺.

One time, I was holding onto the dream of being a part of the school’s newspaper—it was my “𝗛𝗨𝗗𝗬𝗔𝗧” to fulfill the vision, reflected by that tender link I had with that story. The tension was still on me when I came to the opening. I had no clue why I felt that way, even if I’ve entered too many banquet halls at that point. Though, I was determined to open that door and introduce myself with the passion I had. She was someone I did not know so much back then, but now, I’m writing this article because of her instruction. Her proficient Filipino words, and the lectures she offered to us. There was the excitement, the uplifting compliments, and the will to keep on writing. This may be the last time that we will be coupled for education, but I’m hoping to see our names as staff on the front page. Am I too much, or was that a mysterious ending?

Teachers in general only want the best for their learners, for influencing their lives is the greatest fulfillment. They can be strict or relatable, but together, they spend the rest of the day in the banquet room, merrily toasting for a job well done. In this monumental learning institution, many important people shall rise and do their part in society, away from the fairytales and fictional playtime. Perhaps, next time, if you can also observe your own school’s faculty room, you can hear their stories—the sounds of a feast, and assist them in preparing for the afternoon festivities.

I hope you were able to see the beautiful reality of the teachers of New Era University: Integrated School with my own eyes. Do greet them hello, or help them in your tiny acts the next time you see them, and it will definitely brighten their day. Thank you for reading their ordinary tales! Come back again in another blog where my fantasies become realities! A Nikki reminder: let’s help one another to rise up to success, instead of degrading one another to failure!

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❝ It’s the ultimate desire, and yet I felt so anxious, ㅤㅤ ㅤbut now we’re so close, yet so far between screens. ❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

· * ✫ * ⊹ * ˚ . . 　　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · . * · . · · + . ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ· ** ˚ . . + 　　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · . *

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ. . + 　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · .˚ ⊹ · * ✧ ⋆ · * . · . · · .. . .

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ· + ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ· * ✫ * ⊹ * ˚

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ · ** ˚ . . + ㅤㅤ　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · .˚ ⊹ · * ✧

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⋆ · * . · ㅤㅤ . · · .. . . · + .

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ. · + . *

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⋆ * . * . .

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ . · ·

ㅤㅤ﹙dedication. ﹚ ୨˚୧ ˚ ༘♡.↳ ₊˚‧

This blog is dedicated to “I am a Teacher,” for her patience, remarks, rainbow scarfs, adorable dogs, and wonderful words given to me. You are My Most Precious Treasure in this writing journey, from blandness to vividness.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹋﹋﹌﹌﹌「 🧁 」﹌﹌﹌﹋﹋

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ┊彡 Credits

➥ Cover Edit

➫ Ma’am JB

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

➥ First Blog Divider

➫ Sir Leo

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

➥ Second Blog Divider

➫ Ma'am Eva

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

➥ Third Blog Divider

➫ Sir Prince

➥ Fourth Blog Divider

➫ Sir Prince

➥ Fifth Blog Divider

➫ Teacher Med

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ �� ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

➥ Source of Information

➫ The author’s encounters

➫ Briefly shared stories by her teachers

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ﹋﹋﹌﹌﹌「 end. 」﹌﹌﹌﹋﹋

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#NEU-IS PH #Creative Non-fiction #Feature Article #Blogging #Human Interest Story #aNikKis Fantasirealities #Teachers #Faculty Room

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neohighwayv · 5 years

Text

Again and again

Characters: NCT / NCT DREAM Jeno x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word count: 2.7k

Description: “I think it’s great that you have a great sex life but I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to put a hole in my wall whilst doing it.”

Author’s note: The prompt may look misleading but I promise – there is no smut in this story.

Warnings: Implied suggestive content, mild cursing

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I’m going insane. Please SHUT UP!!!

Ripping your headphones out of your ear, you sat up in your bed fast, whipping your head around to glare at the wall behind you. The sudden movement made your vision swim from the sudden rush of blood to your head as you slammed your fists down hard. Your innocent Samoy soft toy by your side took the brunt of your force, his beaded eyes almost falling out from the impact. Snapping your head to your bedside quickly, you found your notebook laying there neatly – the perfect weapon for such a situation. You snatched it up from your bedside before using it to pound at the wall behind you viciously, the spine of the book bending at an extreme angle afterwards, some pages crumpled from your iron grip.

Your neighbour seems to have heard you – for the sound of the bed squeaking stopped momentarily and your walls stop shaking. All was peaceful and silent for a short while, and you breathed a sigh of re–

Only to exhale deeply and sigh again when the screams and moans started to fill your ears, coupled with the familiar sound of the bed squeaking. Your walls began to shake – this time more violently – the tremors of your bed making your stuffed toy fall to the ground.

You slump back down onto your bed in defeat, ruffling your hair as you let out a strangled scream tear your throat.

Making a silent promise to deal with your inconsiderate neighbour tomorrow, you tried to fall back asleep, blasting the music one notch higher in hopes of draining out the noise that didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

---

Three short raps on the door.

That was what you did when you went to confront your neighbour, instead of banging down the door and storming in like you envisioned yourself to. The door opened slightly by a crack and you caught a glimpse of blonde hair just before the door swung open fully to reveal the owner of the blonde hair.

The first thing that stood out to you was how pale the young male looked. He had a head of white blonde hair sitting atop of his equally pale face, making him look like Casper the friendly ghost. The wide eyes that stared back at yours initially soon melted into twinkling crescents that regarded you kindly, his pink lips pulling back into a sweet smile that showed off his rows of pearly whites. Now, he looked like a Samoyed, with his white hair serving to enhance the resemblance.

On normal days, you might have stopped to appreciate such a fine young man – but – life had been anything but normal for the past few weeks, especially with the noise level that he was creating at ungodly hours of the night (or day.) Hence, you were not in the mood to ogle at your handsome neighbour, and you simply wanted to tell him off so that he would get the clear hint this time round.

You opened your mouth to say something to the male, but you quickly closed it, gulping thickly afterwards as you were completely unsure of how to put into words what you wanted to say to him. Said male in front of you could clearly see your discomfort from your body language – you were mumming your lips together, your knuckles turning white from your hard grip on your bag strap. Wanting to ease your nervousness, he decided to start the conversation first.

“Hi, is there anything I can help you with…?”

How does one talk about…that…topic to a complete stranger?

You were still angry at him for interrupting your sleep, but the thought of having to breach such an intimate topic to a stranger still was very awkward to you. Your face and neck burst into a bright shade of red as last night’s scene played in your mind, his breathy moans suddenly filling your ears.

Why are you thinking of that Y/N! GET A GRIP!!!

Watching as you engaged in an internal battle with yourself, the male became more worried for you, prompting him to question you once more.

“Miss, are you alright? You look pale, maybe – ”

Hearing his voice snapped you back to your senses and that was when your brain’s word filter suddenly malfunctioned at the critical moment, the words spewing out of your lips before you could hold them back.

“Look here, sir, I’ll get straight to the point. I think it’s great that you’re having a great sex life, but I would appreciate if you wouldn’t put a hole in my wall whilst doing it. While you’re at it, I’d appreciate if you could keep your volume down – or if you can’t – make your room soundproof? Your moans are just keeping me up all night and distracting me from my studies.”

You immediately inhaled deeply once you were done, having made your entire speech in a single breath. You made the mistake of glancing over to the blonde and you jumped back in shock when you saw his facial expression, your hands flying to your chest as you let out a small yelp.

The smiling blonde now looked absolutely petrified – and for a moment – you thought you were staring at a statue. Upon hearing your words, the blonde became frozen stiff, his eyes that were blown wide now stared at you, unmoving, as his pale lips were set in a thin line. Then, the most bizarre thing happened. Starting from the base of his neck, red started to rise up his face, covering every inch of his face. His ears, in particular, appear to be burning red and you had half the mind to actually want to ask him if his ears hurt from – what you assumed – must be searing pain.

However, you didn’t get to ask him your question as both of you turned your attention to the new arrival at the scene, heads snapping to the figure behind him. The new boy regarded both of you from under hooded eyelids, his blonde hair with a strip of blue flopping down like a mop on his head. He wore a pout on his face, his lips looking puffy due to the fact that he looked like he just woke up.

“Jeno-ah, who’s this?”

His question ends with a yawn as he raised his hands above his head to stretch – and that’s when both of you see it.

The action exposed his chest, the top three unbuttoned buttons enhancing the view both you and Jeno had. That’s when you see the evidence of last night’s activities – the purple and blue hickeys littering the expense of his chest, right down to his naval just above the waistband of his pants. Both your eyes grow wide at the sight and everything that happens next happens so quickly that you wonder if the events actually transpired, or it was just a figment of your imagination.

Jeno comes to his sense first, lunging at his friend before slamming the door shut with his foot. From your spot on the opposite side of the wall, you can hear the urgency behind Jeno’s hushed whispers, and the disparate difference in the other’s husky, slow voice.

“Ya Na Jaemin! Why did you come out looking like that!”

“What… it’s no big deal Jeno, you’ve seen me with less articles of clothing before.”

You think you hear Jeno sigh deeply, before the conversation continues again.

“We have a guest Jaemin, in case you didn’t realise.”

“I didn’t know until I came out and saw you by the door, can’t blame me man.”

“Ok that doesn’t matter now, just go change into something more decent or at least button up your shirt next time.”

“Jeno, it is buttoned.”

“Button it up FULLY then. Now go.”

“Awww, sending me away already? But ok I’ll go if you answer my question.”

“Na Jaemin, do not ask – ”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT NOW, GO GET CHANGED!”

You hear Jaemin whine as the sound of his footsteps get further away, before the door is flung open again to reveal a nervous Jeno.

“Hi, I’m terribly sorry about that incident just now. About last night… I’ll… remind him again so… he’ll… keep it down the next time. I’m very sorry about that and I promise it won’t happen again.”

He gives you a bow to convey his sincerest apologies and you hastily mirror it, before the door closes shut in your face again, the sound of running footsteps before a howl of pain travels through the door to reach you.

You stood at your spot unmoving for the next few minutes, trying to process everything that just happened in your mind. After your confused brain was finally able to put together each piece, you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your loud gasp – for it finally dawned upon you that you had made a grievous mistake.

I just blamed the wrong person.

Fuck.

---

It didn’t help that you kept seeing the blonde around your neighbourhood – Jeno – as you now know him by. It was inevitable considering how both of you lived in the same neighbourhood but you still cursed your terrible luck.

The first time you saw him, you were walking home from the local bread store which was located right beside the gym. Jeno was walking out after having just finished his power lifting session, his head bent down low over his phone screen. You, on the other hand, were counting the change in your hand as you tried to get a proper hold on the bag full of bread. Neither of you were watching where you were going and a collision was inevitable. The impact sent your bread flying along the pavement and Jeno immediately bent down to help you pick it up.

You profusely apologised as the mystery male helped you gather your stray breads, you quickly bending down to aid the process.

“I’m so sorry about that, I should have – ”

“It’s alright, are you hurt?”

Why does this voice sound so familiar…?

Both of you turned to look at the other party right at the right moment and you were sure you must have looked like a fool in front of him because you let out a squeak as your eyes widened to twice their size.

Of all people, why did it have to be you again, you damned Samoyed!!!

Jeno, on the contrary, remained calm as he handed you your bread back, having already put the incident that happened at his doorstep behind him. It was a natural assumption – he had reasoned with himself. He was just extremely understanding by nature – like the angel he was. He gave you a small smile as he handed you the bag with two hands, still awaiting your reply. What he didn’t expect was for you to awkwardly bow slightly after snatching the bag from him before you took down the length of the street, curving sharply to enter the lobby of the apartment.

Jeno watched all of this with a twinkle in his eye, his lips curling up into a playful smirk as he let out a light huff.

She’s adorable when she’s flustered.

That night as you lay down in bed replaying your encounter with Jeno, you slammed your pillow over your face as you tossed and turned in bed, wondering why you always manage to appear so stupid in front of the boy. First, the wrong accusations and second, the bread incident – but perhaps – what you refused to admit was that you were flustered because you thought he looked good in the muscle tee that showed off his well-defined muscles, more so than the fact that you kept embarrassing yourself in front of him.

---

The second time you saw him, it was… agonising… and frustrating. A hand had slipped through the crack of the metallic lift doors, the resulting clang giving you a fright. You press the button to hold the lift open as Jeno squeezes through the slit to stand beside you. You groan inwardly at your horrible luck once more, but you plaster your best customer service smile on your face. You miss it when Jeno smiles to himself as he watches your cute self, his eyes turning into beautiful crescents once again. The typically short elevator ride up to your floor seems excruciatingly slow today, and you tap your fingers against the back of your hand nervously, hoping that the lift would speed up. Meanwhile, Jeno is enjoying every second of this ride, glad that he got to spend some time in your presence. Yet the smile is wiped off his face when the doors open with a ting, the muffled moans of Jaemin reaching his ears. This time, it was Jeno’s turn to glance nervously at you, sure that you had also caught onto the same thing. He had promised you that he would rein in Jaemin, but it was not working out very well. Both of you padded over to your respective doors quietly, and Jeno kept his head down the entire way out of embarrassment. Both of you stalled outside your respective doors, glancing over at each other nervously.

Pointing to his door, Jeno tried to talk, but he ended up stuttering instead.

“I- I- I’m go- go- go- going to ask him to quieten down.”

For the first time, Jeno managed to see a smile on your face and he was absolutely star struck.

“I don’t think you should, lest you want to walk in and see something unpleasant.”

Jeno lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching his nape as he blushed furiously at what you were implying. You gave him a small smile before entering your apartment, leaving Jeno hanging at his doorstop.

Aish this Na Jaemin! Why must he always embarrass me in front of her!

---

The third time you saw Jeno – well – to be exact, it does not count as seeing him coincidentally for he was the one that actively sought you out. Despite the moans still coming from the other side of the wall at 10pm, you heard the unmistakable knock on your door, the heavier sound reaching your ears much better than the moans. A quick peep into the keyhole showed that your mystery visitor was Jeno, and you unlocked the door, wondering what business your neighbour possibly had with you at such an ungodly hour.

“Hi…” – was all Jeno breathed out when he saw you, still not knowing your name having never asked despite the many encounters you had with him.

What an idiot you are Lee Jeno.

You caught on immediately, filling in the details for him.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N.”

“Y/N, hi.”

“Yes…? Is there anything I can help you with…?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to study together? Since… you know…”

He jabbed a thumb in the direction of his home, and your lips form an O in understanding. You stood at your spot for a few moments, contemplating if you should accept the offer from your dashingly handsome neighbour.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to! I just thought that since we both need to study; we could go together… doubt we’ll get anything done with the noise level.”

His eye smile was on display again, and it was hard to say no to the adorable face. Besides, he had a point. Nothing had gone in despite poring over your notes for the past 2 hours, and you were so close to giving up until he knocked on your door.

“Give me 5 minutes, I’ll be right back. There’s a 24-hour café at the neighbouring street, we can head there.”

“O-O- Ok.”

Jeno stammered as you ran back to your room, completely not expecting for you to say yes.

But I don’t mind at all.

---

“This is much better.”

“It is.”

Glancing up from your notes briefly, you caught Jeno’s eyes before flashing him a small smile, one that he reciprocated.

“Hey Y/N…”

“Hmmm?”

“What if we did this more often?”

“Studying together?”, you said, as you pointed to the table.

“Sure, definitely would not mind a study buddy.”

You turned back to face your books, hiding your shy smile between the pages. Jeno, on the other hand, continued to look at you with his twinkling eyes, happy with your response.

If Jaemin’s noise level meant that he could keep seeing you again and again, he’ll gladly let Jaemin keep it up.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fanfiction #nct fanfic #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fanfiction #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fanfic #jeno fanfiction #nct fluff #nct romance

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kmseokjins · 5 years

Text

Thunderlight (Chapter 6)

Fandom: BTS Pairing: BTS x Reader / Poly!OT7 x Reader Warnings: n/a this chapter Chapter Summary: Dead end after dead end, Hoseok finally seems to find the answers they seek...but at what cost?

Archive Of Our Own || Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Notes: This is chapter features Hoseok & Yoongi; no one else makes an appearance! A bit of a cliffhanger at the end, but nothing too drastic!

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“You should let me go in alone, Hyung.” Hoseok knows that as soon as the words leave his mouth that he’s fighting a losing battle. For the sake of his sanity, he has to at least try.

Yoongi fixes Hoseok with an incredulous look at such a request, eyes narrowing. “No.” His answer is sharp and final, arms crossed across his chest as if to make his opinion on the matter that much more obvious.

Hoseok groans, “It’s bad enough I’m going to draw attention. You’re going to draw even more attention. Why did you come?” The hellhound hadn’t even asked Yoongi to come with him; his elder had apparently followed him out the door when he’d tried to leave discreetly. One minute Hoseok was silently celebrating his victory, and the next, Yoongi was nonchalantly following behind him.

At least he had avoided drawing the attention of Jimin and Taehyung. Those two shouldn’t be allowed to leave the dorms. Ever. Especially not together. Hoseok would have ditched them back at the dorms if they had been the ones to follow. Yoongi? The man was stubborn.

“We’re not supposed to go anywhere alone.” A pause. “Hence why I’m here.” Yoongi gestures at himself, clad in black pants, a black hoodie, and a black headband pushing his hair back. “Incognito.”

“That’s…..that’s not what I meant by drawing attention.” Hoseok sighs before he continues towards the building he had been leading Yoongi to. He was dreading this; exposing himself to a bunch of possible demons. Not to mention exposing Yoongi as well. That made his skin crawl. Yoongi’s mind was already made up, and Hoseok knew he shouldn’t waste his breath any longer trying to convince him otherwise. The hellhound could abandon his mission tonight, but there wasn’t a guarantee he would get this opportunity again.

The smell of sulfur enveloped him as soon as he stepped inside the bar. It was disgusting. The smell wasn’t overly potent, but Hoseok was still disgusted all the same. God, he hated dealing with demons. His hound felt much the same, giving the impression of his hackles raised as soon as he stepped foot inside.

A look thrown over his shoulder to his mate behind him gave Hoseok no indication if Yoongi cared about the smell; his expression was as stoic as usual.

No sooner than they approached the bar did the chatter of the patrons taper off; the once muffled music over the speakers much louder and more distinctive to make out now. Hoseok wasn’t surprised; he hadn’t been expecting a warm welcome to begin with, although he wasn’t quite sure if it was because of him or Yoongi. Perhaps even both. It wasn’t every day two species like them came into a place crawling (mostly) with demons. The hellhound gritted his teeth; his contact had chosen this place specifically for the reason that she would be surrounded by her own kind.

It was only a few seconds longer before the previous chatter started up again, somewhat drowning the music as it had before. Glancing around again, Hoseok focused on a short, squat man approaching them. As he neared, his eyes flashed green for mere seconds as he looked between Hoseok and Yoongi.

“Hoseok.” An eyebrow quirked upwards as the man practically spat out his name, lips peeling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Goblin. As Hoseok nodded in confirmation, the goblin flicked his attention to Yoongi, standing just behind him at his shoulder, “Not him.”

Hoseok stiffens, gritting his teeth as his eyes flash golden, “He comes with.” Like hell Hoseok was leaving Yoongi alone. The goblin’s eyes widen slightly at the aggression before he scowls and mentions them both to follow, muttering in a forgein language under his breath. He leads them deeper into the bar, the crowded dance floor parting to let the three pass. Hoseok wrinkles his nose at the stronger stench of sulfur due to the cluster of demons they pass. The goblin stops at the third door on the left down a hallway. He knocks three times in rapid succession before he turns the knob and pushes the door open, mentioning the two inside.

Hoseok steps through first, Yoongi close behind although neither react when the door shuts behind them a little harder than needed. The room is almost set up like a lounge; a large tv hangs on the wall, two black leather couches face the tv, and a mini bar takes up the back right corner of the room.

The only other person in the room stands at the mini bar, her back to them, although she’s well aware they’re there. She finishes pouring wine into the wine glass before she snatches it up and turns to face the two men. She’s tall and slender, the white dress she wears clings to every curve, flowing down around her ankles, barely reaching the top of the white three-inch heels she wears. Her jaw is sharp, her cheekbones high. Her soft, blonde hair is loosely curled and flows down to the middle of her back, her lips are painted blood red, and her eyes are entirely black.

Hoseok isn’t surprised when he feels Yoongi press close against his back, his chest rumbling with a growl. It’s hard to feel safe when you’re trapped in a room with a high level demon, not to mention when soulbond is close too. Hoseok swallows the snarl threatening to slip from himself, reaching a hand back to intertwine with one of Yoongi’s. Hoseok trusted that Yoongi would behave himself, but Hoseok felt the need to be grounded as well.

“Jung Hoseok and guest,” The demoness purred as she crossed the room, sitting on the closest couch she reached with a flourish, left leg crossing over her right. She waved a manicured hand in the direction of the other couch, “Please, sit.”

Her eyes tracked them both as Hoseok pulled Yoongi to sit down. Hoseok set on the edge of the couch, while Yoongi settled on the arm of the couch, knee pressed against Hoseok’s side, eyes zeroed in on the demon with suspicion.

Her gaze remained on Yoongi, head tilting as she regarded the blond before she focused back on the hellhound, “It’s not everyday someone like myself gets the pleasure of your company, darling.” She flashes her pearly white teeth, “Your message was cryptic. You need information. On what, exactly?”

Hoseok hated that he had to contact her. Lilith . All his other contacts had lead to nothing, nothing more than rumors. He had been half-tempted to tell Namjoon that he couldn’t find anything on the demon called Asa, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell such an untruth to his mate if he had another lead to follow. He would have understood. This is dangerous. She’s a viper. His hellhound was seething, ready to fight his way out at the first sign of anything suspicious. It wasn’t just himself to protect either; Yoongi had been dragged into the viper’s nest too.

“A demon. I was hoping you could tell me about him.” Just saying the words, asking for a favor, made bile rise in his mouth.

Lilith’s grin is wolfish as she raises the wineglass to her lips and takes a sip of the blood red liquid within. “If you wanted a master ,” The word is purred, head tilting as she flicks her gaze up and down his body, “you could have asked me. We could have so much fun..” Lilith trails off, her attention shifting to look just past him with surprise.

Her attention on Yoongi makes Hoseok realize how cold the room has gotten and the anger beating at him. No longer stifling hot like it had been when they first came in, the temperature had plummeted sharply in contrast. Hoseok twists in place, a hand reaching out to grab one of Yoongi’s clenched fists, prying his elder’s hand open before lacing their fingers together.

“Yoongi-hyung.” Hoseok murmurs to his agitated mate, squeezing his hand in an attempt to get his eyes from Lilith and onto him. Yoongi resists briefly before his eyes flickering to the hellhound, and Hoseok almost shivers at the silver receding from Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi keeps eye contact with Hoseok while he takes a deep breath before he slowly exhales.

-and just like that, the temperature in the room starts to rise.

Satisfied, Hoseok turns back to the demon, who looks like she’s the cat that got the cream, “You never said you had a dragon,” She giggles, attention fully focused on Yoongi, who bristles immediately, “An ice dragon at that! My, my. You are rare indeed..”

“No.” It’s a snarl, and Lilith raises her eyebrows as she finally settles her attention back on Hoseok, “I’m here for information, nothing more, nothing less.”

The demon pouts for a moment before she sighs, “Very well. Do you have what I requested?” Another sip of her wine passes her lips before she watches him over the lip of the glass.

Reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket, Hoseok pulls out the vial he had safely tucked away before he left the dorms. The vial was about the same length and width of a pencil, filled with an iridescent liquid that shimmered in the light of the room. Hoseok stared at it for a long moment before he tossed it towards Lilith.

She caught it easily, holding it up to examine it like she was assessing a diamond before she hummed in satisfaction, “Excellent. Tell me his name.”

“Asa.”

Lilith clutched the vial in her fist as she glanced sharply at the hellhound, “Asa.” Head tilting, she narrowed her eyes at him, “You’re either very stupid or very brave for wanting to tangle with him.”

“I have no intention of contacting him. I only want information about him.”

“He’s a high level demon, like myself. As powerful as he is cruel. He’s a demon of many, many talents.” Lilith sighs wistfully, “He’s typical for a demon, really. Apparently he collects creatures like yourselves, the rarer the better.”

“Does he have a special interest in humans?”

“Hmm, he’s more smitten with witches. At least, that’s what I heard years ago. Apparently a witch caught his attention and he became obsessed. More than we usually do.” Lilith raises her eyebrows, “Are you attempting to protect a human from him?”

Hoseok ignores her, “What happened with the witch?”

Lilith frowns at his blunt dodge before she shrugs her shoulders, “Some say he consumed her soul, others say that he’s got her tucked safely away as his personal pet. I say she slipped through his fingers, but that’s just my observation. We may be in the same circle, but he tends to be the thorns on a rose. Other than what I’ve told you, I don’t know any more on the demon. He keeps to himself unless he’s pissed off. Then everyone knows it.”

Hoseok was disappointed. He’d learned some things, but not nearly enough to satisfy himself. If anything, he had more questions about this demon, Asa. Why would you be so afraid of him? You were human, and unless you had something of value he wanted, he didn’t seem like he would waste his time with a human. Then again, perhaps you had made a deal with him and the time was drawing near for him to come collect. The thought made Hoseok bristle. If that were true, just what kind of deal did you make with a demon? Nothing about you screamed “I MADE A DEAL WITH A DEMON!!!” .

We’ve stayed long enough. His hellhound was growing restless, and Hoseok couldn’t help but feel the same. They’d been here too long already and he just wanted to go back home to the rest of his mates and take the hottest shower he could stand. Being around a demon always made him feel like he needed to scrub his skin raw.

Standing without a word, Hoseok simply inclined his head towards the demoness before urging Yoongi towards the door they had entered from.

“A word of friendly advice, hellhound.”

Hoseok stops at the sound of Lilith’s voice, turning to glance over his shoulder at her.

“Watch your back. Asa doesn’t know the meaning of the word mercy.”

Yoongi promptly drags Hoseok from the room no sooner than the demoness stops talking, ignoring the dozens of eyes that follow their movements towards the exit. Hoseok doesn’t blame him, and he inhales deeply when they step out into the cool, night air seconds later. Silence envelopes them until halfway back to the dorms:

“When we get home, you’re going to explain everything.”

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fanfic #ot7 x reader #poly!bts x reader #bts fanfiction #Supernatural!Idol!BTS x reader #my writing #*mine

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writersblockfreeflow · 5 years

Text

You don’t have a Codeword (Part Three)

Part One Part Two

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Words: 1594

Author’s Note: Thank you for the support! I’m trying really hard to post a part every 1-3 days, however work is getting pretty crazy for me in regards to finding time to edit.That said, the replies, messages, and notes go a long way. Thank you again! Enjoy!

How you ended up swinging through New York with the spider himself? You’re not exactly sure. All you knew was that you were not expecting the adrenaline soaring through your body. You always stayed in your room, as the sight of the timers always filled you with melancholy. But now- being out- it was such a rush.

Peter donned his new suit- the ‘project’ Tony was talking about- and practically begged you to go out into the city with him. He wanted to try it out before… you frowned upon remembering. He ended up stopping on the roof of an apartment building you didn’t recognize. You quickly followed using the web shooters Peter lent and taught you to use. He immediately began stretching, using one of the railings on the side of the building.

“If you don’t stretch, you might get a cramp” He chided you while he did lounges. You laughed at the sight, ignoring the numbers that danced above his head.

“I think I’m okay” You responded, smiling at the way he shook his head at you. It was on that roof that you began trying to get to know each other. What were your favorite colors, favorite movies, who were your friends, family. You could tell from the timer that nearly 3 and a half hours had passed since you both had left, when he suddenly grew quiet. You felt a chill down your spine as the early morning winds pushed against your hair.

“(Y/N)…” Peter breathed out next to you. At this point you were both sitting, dangling your legs off the edge of the building, knees almost but not quite touching. It was as if there was a boundary that neither of you were willing to break, with good reason. You turned to him, tilting your head to the side- uncertain of what would follow. “How did you get your powers?” He asked, glancing down at his fidgeting hands on top of his lap. You felt the cold creep into your stomach, recalling the memory. “I mean… Mr. Stark said that you had an accident but was that a lie as well? Were you born with them?” He continued before looking back up at you. What he saw on your face immediately had him backpedaling. “But you don’t have to tell me! Sorry, just ignore me. We can go sight seeing some more, I know this great place where-” He went to stand up. You instinctively reached out, wanting to capture his wrist and bring him back down, but stopped before you grabbed it. He understood and sat back next to you.

“It’s okay. I said... whatever you want, right? Well...” You took a deep breath, swallowing the ball that grew in your throat, “When I was seven…

The mall seemed so huge to seven-year-old you. You held your mom’s hand as you strolled past each store, trying to find the perfect gift for your dad’s upcoming birthday. Your mom told you that anything you picked out he would love but you wanted something that would really make him happy. She appreciated your determination and handed you her credit card, telling you, “In that case, I completely trust that you’ll get the perfect thing”

After spending 2 hours searching for it- you didn’t exactly know what it was but once you saw it you knew you would, the two of you decided to get a bite to eat. It was in the food court that you noticed it. It was on display, right behind the window of the storefront next door. You couldn’t see it very well, but you felt drawn. While your mom was distracted, completing the transaction with the food clerk, you snuck away to the store.

You had waltzed in, straight to the cashier asking for the item in the window. The man behind the counter had asked you where your parents were, and you had explained that you were buying a gift for your dad and wanted your mom to be surprised too. You remembered how he laughed to himself before grabbing it for you.

Upon closer inspection, you saw that it was a music box. The man had asked you if you wanted to see “Iron Man in action”. You nodded, eager to see what the box could do. After winding it, it opened to feature an Iron Man replica flying around a miniature version of Stark Industries with a crowd of people near the base of the tower posed in typical cheering stances. You weren’t exactly sure what the tune playing came from, but it reminded young you of fairies, mystical and sweet. After seeing it, you confirmed the purchase, using the card your mom gave you. The man asked you if you needed help finding your parents, but you shook your head, saying that you knew where your mom was.

However, upon walking back, you didn’t see her, and you didn’t have a chance to look before the floor below you slightly rumbled. The scene in front of you had changed and you heard the distant sounds of screaming while the hairs on the back of your neck stood out. You saw crowds of people running past you towards the exit, but you were frozen in place. It wasn’t until one individual of the continuous flow of sprinters bumped into you, pushing you down, that you began to cry. Feeling the tears pouring down your face, you wailed for your mom, gripping tightly onto the box you were so excited to show her. Smoke began flowing from the other side of the mall, searching for an escape. You closed your eyes, feeling a slight burning sensation when the smoke hit them.

As you continued to call out, you felt yourself being picked up and carried, an arm under your knees and another around your back. You felt joy fill you as you latched on, facing what you expected to be your mother but instead was a stranger. She whispered words of comfort to you, while you struggled to be free from her hold, trying to hit her with the box that you held onto. “Please, just let me save you” She cried, voice wavering. It was then you noticed that the stranger also had tears streaming down her face.

You stopped struggling and heard a noise coming from back where you were. Looking behind her, you saw a person in a white jumpsuit, with a matching full-face gas mask, fizzle into visibility. The person took off their mask to reveal his face, cruelly smirking at you. In the coming days, turned to years, this would be the only thing you would remember about his face. Fear clogged your throat, pushing down a sob. He seemed to stare directly into your eyes as he slowly waved his right hand at you. He then lifted his left hand, showing a cylindrical piece of metal with a red button on top. Mouthing the word ‘Bye’, he pushed the button, putting his mask back on and disappearing before your eyes. The ground began to rumble again.

“I really am sorry” You heard the woman whisper to you, turning your attention back onto her. You wanted to ask her why, but when you felt the floor breaking apart under her, the words never came out. She tossed you away from her, inches away from the exit, debris falling around you. You laid there staring at her as a second later, the ground underneath fell into itself, dragging her down, instead of you. You’re not sure how long you laid there but you began to hear your mom calling for you. You picked yourself up, grabbing the box- landing a foot away from you when you were tossed, and ran outside searching for the owner of the voice. Upon seeing a crowd of people, you grew confused and scared. Not because you couldn’t see your mother, because you could, but now, everyone had these strange numbers above their heads.”

Upon finishing the true backstory of your powers, you looked over to Peter. He was looking back at you, but there was something new in his eyes. You had never seen that look before, hence why when you racked your brain to place it, you were unable to. It made you feel warm and yet it was unsettling. Unsettling because you liked it. A lot. You bit your lip in thought, wondering what could be if there was more time.

You quickly filled the silence that welcomed these thoughts. You recalled the countless times that you tried to save people whose times were running up, like the woman did for you, but they always seemed to follow their assigned timer regardless of the age, situation, or how desperately you wanted to save them. It didn’t take long before you were tired of seeing timers slowly run out, fully breaking you when you had to watch your own mother’s.

“I really want to save you. I’m just not sure if I can.” You whispered honestly, seeing a distant memory of your mom lying on her deathbed as you looked at Peter, the boy so close to being on one too. You felt a single tear escape from your eyes. Peter lifted his hand in an attempt to brush it off, with only a slight hesitation before resolve set in his eyes. It was mere inches away from your cheek when a voice bellowed from behind, freezing his hand midair.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Part Four

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upontheshelfreviews · 5 years

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As a lifelong Disney fan I can’t understate how much of an impact Mickey Mouse has had on me. In childhood, he was an icon and friend – instantly recognizable, a source of joy and entertainment, a hero and a role model. I know this is making me sound like one of those cheesy sponsors reading off a cue card, but when you’re talking about a mouse, expect plenty of cheese to be involved.

In the spirit of Mickey celebrating his 90th birthday, I’d like to share with you my 20 favorite shorts he starred in. Why 20? Because I couldn’t narrow it down to ten and I like to go nine steps beyond as opposed to one.

There were only two rules I set while making this list:

Mickey is the main focus, or at the very least he must be given as much to do as the other characters he shares the cartoon with. There’s a lot of great shorts out there that has Mickey’s name in the title – Mickey’s Parrot, Mickey’s Circus, Mickey’s Birthday, Mickey and the Seal, Mickey’s Christmas Carol, etc. – or has his face in the intro that advertises it as his adventure, but upon watching you find they’re really about Donald, Goofy or Pluto or literally anyone else but him.

Shorts only, no segments from full-length films or direct-to-video works. This means no Mickey and the Beanstalk from Fun and Fancy Free or various bits from Mickey’s Once/Twice Upon A Christmas, but sadly no Sorcerer’s Apprentice from Fantasia. I thought of excluding any short that ran over the usual length of five to seven minutes to about twenty, but that made my job even harder.

Now before we get to the countdown, here are a few Honorable Mentions:

Mickey, Donald and Goofy in The Three Musketeers – If I were including full-length films on the list, this would be in the top five, bar none.

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice from Fantasia – It would easily take the number one spot if it didn’t overlap with the #2 rule.

Plane Crazy – The mouse’s first appearance on the silver screen, though he wouldn’t make as quite a splash until his sound debut in Steamboat Willie a few years later

Orphan’s Benefit – One of my favorites as a kid. It made me laugh something fierce and still does, though a large part of it has to do with Donald and Goofy’s segments, hence why it’s only an honorable mention. Also, did you know that the color one we’re mostly familiar with is actually a remake of an earlier black and white version?

Mickey’s Delayed Date – Pluto and Mickey tussle for attention in this outing.

Haunted House – Spooky and atmospheric. Classic Disney nightmare fuel.

The Gorilla Mystery – Mickey plays Minnie’s white knight yet again as he goes to-to-toe with a dangerous gorilla.

Two-Gun Mickey – An American Tail: Mickey Goes West.

Mickey’s Surprise Party – After Minnie’s dog spoils the cookies she was making for Mickey, he saves the day with some shockingly transparent corporate sponsorship. At least I take comfort in the fact that Mickey’s favorite cookies are the same as mine.

Hansel and Gretel – Mickey and Minnie stumble upon a treacherous witch to the ominous strains of Danse Macabre.

Mickey’s Cabin – Mickey outwits Pete and his dimwitted cousin with a little reverse psychology when they hold him hostage in his winter cabin. Hilarity ensues.

Croissant – Mickey’s first short in the modern style proved you can’t keep a mouse on a mission down.

Yodelberg – Continuing with the previous short, it’s modern Mickey at its most fast-paced and stylish fun.

Shanghaied – It’s up to Mickey to save the day and Minnie again, this time from Pete and his dastardly crew of pirates.

Mickey’s Christmas Carol – Mickey’s first cartoon in 30 years has him slightly out of the spotlight, but still got him back in the public eye for good.

20. Mickey’s Trailer

This gets the lowest spot because the first half mainly focuses on jokes surrounding Donald and Goofy in their cool little mechanical trailer. But when it reaches the second half? That’s when things really kick into high gear. Goofy obliviously unhitches the trailer as they’re traveling through a perilous mountain pass and it’s up to Mickey to keep his vacation from reaching an untimely end. It’s amazingly suspenseful, with plenty of close calls from oncoming vehicles, trains and cliff sides. They still manage to sneak in a few decent moments of slapstick, but not at the cost of any of the tension. My only wish is that we could have seen Mickey and Donald’s response to Goofy’s cheerful “Well, I brought ya down safe and sound, a-hyuck!” at the very end. No doubt it would have been hilariously karmic.

19. Mickey’s Mechanical House

Coming from the Mickey’s Mouse Works/House of Mouse era of cartoons, we get a whimsical story in Seuss-esque rhyme, narrated by John Cleese no less. Sick of the inconveniences of his old abode, Mickey moves into a sleek totally automated house. He quickly learns, however, that easy modern conveniences aren’t what make a good home. Unlike the other cartoons made in this time, the art style goes for a 50’s retro look that pays homage to the likes of UPA. I especially appreciate the cameo from the iconic Mars robot from the famous Disneyland episode Mars and Beyond. That’s how you know this short was made by real old-school Disney fans. The story is charming, the gags are clever, and it earns this spot on the countdown.

18. Giantland/Gulliver Mickey

Yes, I know I’m cheating here due to this being a tie, but I found these two shorts to be similar enough that I felt they were both worthy of the same place on the list. Each one begins with Mickey telling a story to his…younger counterparts? Nieces and nephews? Godchildren? They all refer to him as “Uncle Mickey” and they all look like him so maybe they’re really…no, best not to think of the implications.

Anyway, Mickey makes himself the hero of each tale, firstly in the role of Jack in Jack and the Beanstalk (no doubt somewhat inspiring his future gigantic adventures in The Brave Little Tailor and Fun and Fancy Free), then of him being the giant washed up on the shores of Lilliput. There’s some good action all around, and plenty of creativity in showing the giant’s world, Mickey’s storytelling and how the Lilliputians attempt to subdue their captive.

17. Magician Mickey

Mickey’s putting on a magic show, but he’s constantly heckled by a disbelieving Donald. Little does the duck realize he’s messing with the Sorcerer’s Apprentice himself, and Mickey uses all his mystic powers to troll back at him. Even though it’s arguably Donald’s short as much as it is Mickey’s, he does provide the main source of the conflict, and Mickey does not hold back when providing some good old magical vengeance. He remains the perfect showman throughout, and the tricks he plays to get back at Donald are inventive and hilarious. I admit, I still crack up at the running gag where Donald attempts to go in one of his unintelligible tirades and spits out an entire deck of cards. Just goes to show you don’t mess with the mouse, especially when he’s in magician mode.

16. Steamboat Willie

Ah, the one that started it all. Well, technically it was Plane Crazy and The Galloping Gaucho, but Steamboat Willie was what really thrust Mickey into the limelight. It may be simplistic by today’s standards, but this short is nothing…short of iconic. It establishes everything you need to know about the character of Mickey Mouse – inventive, friendly, helpful, but not without a strong mischievous streak. Being one of the first cartoons to have fully synchronized sound certainly helps. It not only pushed the popularity of “talkies” but introduced the world to what would become one of the most recognizable characters of all time. How could I not include it on the list? I already wrote an entire article on its significance, so if you want to know more, feel free to go read it.

15. The Mad Doctor

When people talk about the darkest moments in Disney animation, there’s a reason why this short is often brought up. The Mad Doctor goes for straight-up horror, and pulls no punches. Mickey must work his way through a creepy castle to save his beloved dog Pluto before he becomes the next victim of the titular doctor’s dangerous experiments. There’s lots of shadows, spooky living skeletons, and booby traps galore that threaten Mickey along the way. It’s perfect fare for Halloween.

Without giving away the ending, it’s the kind I’d normally call a bit of a cop out, but I don’t see how they could have worked their way around it. This short was deemed so scary upon release that it was banned not only in the UK, but in Nazi Germany, which really says something. It didn’t frighten me that much when I was a kid, but there’s a pervading sense of dread that makes it unlike any other Mickey Mouse cartoon ever made. Its impact on the canon was strong enough that the Mad Doctor was made one of the main antagonists of the Epic Mickey video game. And getting to take him out after all these years is one of the most satisfying game moments you’ll ever experience.

14. Around the World in 80 Days

Now for something a bit lighter. Some of the best shorts made for Mickey’s Mouse Works and House of Mouse were the “Mouse Tales”, two-part adaptations of classic novels with Mickey and the gang filling in the roles. This is a simplified but still fun take on Jules Verne’s famous globetrotting adventure. Instead of a wager between high society gentlemen and a robbery caper mixup however, Mickey must circumnavigate the globe in order to claim an inheritance and save his orphanage. Goofy and a rescued native princess-turned-love interest Minnie (there’s no way around some of the more dated aspects of this story, is there?) help him along the way, but they also have to deal with a meddling Scrooge McDuck, who’d do anything to get his feathers on the fortune. They manage to squeeze in some great jokes, usually involving Mickey’s deadpan reactions to Goofy’s cluelessness. It’s a decent retelling that hits all the beats and will probably get kids interested in checking out the original story.

13. Ye Olden Days

Nothing like a good old-fashioned medieval romance to warm your heart. Humble minstrel Mickey attempts to rescue fair damsel Minnie when she refuses to marry foppish Prince Dippy Dawg – that’s Goofy’s early moniker to those not fluent in early Disney – and winds up engaging in a joust for her hand. Mickey and Minnie may not be the most fascinating couple in film history, but their earnest devotion to each other shows why their relationship has stood the test of time.

When I was rewatching this to see if it deserved a spot on this list, I was particularly impressed by how spirited Minnie was – she does not take her arranged marriage lying down, slapping the self-absorbed prince in the face while declaring “Never!” and fighting her captors every step of the way as she’s dragged to the tower as punishment. Plus, it’s her intervening on Mickey’s behalf that saves him from the guillotine and allows him to engage in trial by combat. Mickey, ever the underdog, uses his size and cleverness to his advantage, outdoing the prince in all his regalia with nothing but a spear, a suit of armor fashioned from a potbelly stove, and an intrepid donkey. I really don’t have anything to say other than this short’s simplicity and sweetness never fails to win me over.

12. The Pointer

An expertly animated adventure for Mickey and his loyal canine, even if the idea of the Mouse going hunting wouldn’t fly today. I just love Mickey and Pluto’s interactions; they remind me so much of me and my dog and the time we spent together (though let it go on record that I never have or most likely will engage in hunting for sport). This isn’t a case of the pet being smarter than the master like in future shorts, either. Those always aggravated me because of how they really dumbed down Mickey. Both are on equal footing here, and both get into equal amounts of trouble.

The moment where Mickey tries to talk his way out of an encounter with an angry bear is equal parts tense and humorous. It’s also one of the rare times I can recall Mickey attempting to use his own popularity to escape from a jam (“Well I’m, uh, Mickey Mouse! You know, Mickey Mouse? I hope you’ve heard of me…I hope.”) According to Andreas Deja, animator Frank Thomas incorporated a bit of Walt’s own actions while recording the lines for this scene, giving it a superb bit of what Thomas would call “the illusion of life”.

11. Lonesome Ghosts

Here we have another Mickey-Donald-Goofy venture with shenanigans surrounding the last two, but there’s enough of Mickey in there to make it count. Now tell me if this sounds familiar: a trio of oddballs, one smart if in way over his head, one irascible and sarcastic, and one delightfully naive, go into business capturing ghosts. And yes, at one point one of them says “I ain’t afraid of no ghosts”. It’s a shame Disney wasn’t able to capitalize on this fifty years later apart from syncing this short to the Ghostbusters theme in the DTV Halloween special. Lonesome Ghosts is a spooky jaunt where half the fun comes from the various ways the titular quartet of specters tease our hapless heroes. How the protagonists manage to send them packing kind of confuses me, but it still makes for a good chuckle. Steeped in atmosphere and loaded with laughs, Lonesome Ghosts is a ghoulish good time.

10. Mickey’s Good Deed

It’s Christmas Eve, and Mickey and Pluto are out in the cold with nothing but a bass fiddle that earns them barely enough to eat. A bratty rich half-pint sets his sights on Pluto and goes Veruca Salt on his father, leading to him offering Mickey a fair bit of dough in exchange for the dog. Mickey refuses, until he spies a poor widow and her many children even worse off than he is. This leads to him making a heartwrenching sacrifice to ensure they have a merry Christmas. It’s a short that runs the gamut of emotions. You feel for Mickey every second as he either loses everything he owns or willingly gives it up for a greater good, and there’s plenty of joy to be had when he gets his reward in the end (as well as when that terrible child is given his due punishment). I love watching this every Christmastime, and it exemplifies the giving spirit of the season.

9. Runaway Brain

You wanna know where that infamous image of a demonic Mickey came from? Well here ya go. Fast-paced, frightening and hilarious, Runaway Brain is a wild ride from start to finish. In some ways it feels more akin to a Looney Tunes short than a Disney one. The comic and story beats come right after another, yet leave room for sight gags and references a plenty. There’s even a brief shot that visibly homages The Exorcist. IN A DISNEY SHORT.

Borrowing from The Mad Doctor’s playbook, this time it’s Mickey who’s in a mad scientist’s sights after taking an offer for “a mindless day’s work” at face value, just so he could earn some vacation cash for Minnie. Said mad scientist, Dr. Frankenollie (love the nod there), voiced by Sideshow Bob himself Kelsey Grammar, switches Mickey’s brain with that of his King Kong/Frankenstein-esque creation Julius, who bears more than a passing resemblance to Pete. When the doctor is zapped into ashes by his own experiment – onscreen, mind you – Mickey, now trapped in Julius’ body, must find a way to get back to normal and stop Julius, stuck in Mickey’s form but no less monstrous, from pursuing Minnie. As I said before, the jokes come at you fast and hard. The climax in particular is especially rollicking, with some amazing lighting and coloring choices that pump up the action. As always, Mickey saves the day in the most entertaining – and in this case, bizarre – way possible.

8. The Band Concert

Mickey makes his technicolor debut in one of the first shorts that pits him against a troublesome Donald. All our stalwart conductor wants to do is perform a bit of William Tell for some music lovers in the park, but he’s consistently interrupted by Donald wanting to get in on the action with Turkey In The Straw and an improbable supply of easily breakable flutes. Still, you’ve got to admire both of them for their determination. I’d say nothing short of a cyclone could stop them, but that’s exactly what happens; the climax has them playing through the gale even as they’re hurled through the air! Considering the music they’re performing is appropriately stormy sounding, one has to wonder if they picked up their instruments from Hyrule. The Band Concert is a testament to Mickey’s unflappable perseverance and affinity for music.

7. The Little Whirlwind

Lured to Minnie’s by the promise of cake, Mickey agrees to give her yard a good cleanup in exchange for some dessert. Unfortunately, a playful sentient cyclone has other plans. I’ve never been bothered by Mickey’s voice, but this short shows how he works just as well silently. Much of the action is largely in mime with no dialogue. The slapstick is fun all around. I always did feel a bit bad that Mickey got the short end of the stick in this cartoon; after being tormented by the hellion hurricane, he’s pursued by a giant momma tornado who assumes her offspring was bullied for no reason, and when Minnie checks on his progress he’s blamed for the disaster area that was formerly her garden. I don’t know what the hell she was doing in the kitchen to not hear the two cyclones roaring through her yard but I hope it was worth it. At least Mickey ends up getting the cake – though not in a way he was certainly expecting.

6. Mr. Mouse Takes a Trip

Once more we witness Mickey’s loyalty to his equally devoted canine companion. A simple train trip to Pomona goes off the rails when Mickey must shield Pluto from dog-hating conductor Pete and both find themselves on the run from him. There’s disguises and mishaps galore, and it’s a constant back and forth to see who’s one step ahead of the other. Interesting fact: this short is also the source of the only known footage of Walt Disney recording his lines as Mickey.

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5. Symphony Hour

A spiritual sequel to The Band Concert, Mickey once again plays conductor for a classical orchestra made up of his friends. Unfortunately someone thought it was a good idea to leave all the instruments in Goofy’s hands before their big debut, and they’re quickly destroyed. Now poor Mickey has to keep everything together as the concert falls to pieces and their sponsor Pete fumes from his viewing box.

This short… it’s hysterical. There’s no other word for it. Everything from the animation to the music – which sounds like a precursor to Spike Jones – cracks me up. Mickey is pushed to the limits of his endurance as his show crumbles around him. Not helping matters is the attitude of the performers. Sure, Goofy, Horace Horsecollar and the like soldier on admirably, but Donald threatens to up and leave several times. Yet Mickey isn’t afraid to stoop to any level to ensure the show, no matter how terrible, will indeed go on. And the worse it gets for them, the better it gets for us.

4. Thru the Mirror

After falling asleep while reading Alice Through the Looking Glass, Mickey dreams of entering his bedroom mirror and exploring the bizzarro version of his world on the other side. Living furniture, card battles and jazzy dance sequences ensue. Out of all the Mickey shorts on this list, this is probably the best animated. The scenes stick out in your mind long after the cartoon has ended. The size-changing walnuts, the catchy tap dance starting with a game of jump rope with a telephone cord that evolves into a Busby Berkeley homage with playing cards, and the escape from said cards while traversing the dangers of a literal living room? It’s golden age Disney at its finest. There’s not much in the way of story, but that’s not the point of this short. It’s just great animation fueled by years of practice and boundless imagination.

3. Get a Horse!

I remember hearing way back when this short was announced that it was supposedly one from Walt’s heyday which was lost to the ages and recently unearthed. Little could we have realized that it was merely a smokescreen – instead of an old cartoon, we were getting the first new theatrical Mickey Mouse short since Runaway Brain, one that paid tribute to the classic Mickey cartoons of old.

Since I watched Frozen more than once during its theatrical run, I had the privilege of experiencing Get A Horse as it should be: in a big dark movie theater with eye-popping 3D. It gives the perfect illusion that this crazy cartoon with characters jumping in and out and running around the theater really is happening right in front of you. Mickey and friends play around with the screen and the dimensions contained within and with-out in a way not seen since Chuck Jones’ masterpiece Duck Amuck. And having seen many, MANY classic Disney shorts before (if this list hadn’t already indicated), I could even tell where many of the sound bites used for the characters’ dialogue were lifted from. I simply don’t get it when people dismiss this short for “mocking” old school Disney when in reality it does anything but. I think this short is the epitome of what Disney is doing now with their animation, blending the best of the old with the technology and promise of the new. Also, Oswald cameo for the win!

2. The Prince and the Pauper

Talk about nostalgia. I watched this short with the same frequency as my favorite Disney movies on VHS. In fact, due to having no sense of time when I was younger, I thought this twenty minute short was about the same length as those films; it certainly flies by at the same speed. Mark Twain’s tale of royal identity switching has seen its fair share of adaptations, but this one will always be my favorite. We’ve got riveting action and phenomenal voice acting (Wayne Allwine, you were the best Mickey outside of Walt and Brett Iwan can’t hold a candle to you).

It’s also one of the most dramatic shorts in the Disney canon. Pete is at his most menacing outside of Mickey’s Christmas Carol. Scenes like where Mickey attends to the king in his final moments and the prince learns of his father’s passing carry so much weight to them. They’re framed cinematically and let you take in the gravitas. Still, that’s not to say there isn’t any comedy to be found. The Prince and the Pauper has plenty of moments that still make me laugh twenty-eight years later. It’s a short that has everything. Easily one of Mickey’s finest moments.

1. The Brave Little Tailor

If I were to point to one short that summed up everything I love about Mickey Mouse, all you need to know about him, and why he’s so great, The Brave Little Tailor would be it.

Due to a simple misunderstanding, Mickey is thrust into the role of reluctant hero, one who must face down a killer giant no less. But if most of what the previously mentioned shorts have shown, Mickey’s nothing more or less than the perfect underdog. And when he gets into action, he’s like a cartoon blend of Chaplin, Keaton and Fairbanks – not a coincidence as the former two were big influences on early Mickey. Scared though he is, he rarely panics. Instead he relies on his greatest strengths to save the day – his quick thinking, nimbleness from his diminutive stature, and his loyal, caring heart. There’s a reason why I chose this particular thumbnail for this entry. No matter how many times I see this enamored incarnation of Minnie shower her champion with kisses, making him stumble around dizzily and cheerfully cry “Whoopee! I’ll cut ‘im down to my size!” I always, always go “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwww”. It’s just too adorable for words. When you’ve got someone who loves you like Minnie does, you feel like you can take on the world.

I could go on about how the scene where he’s telling the story of how he killed seven with one blow (that’s flies, by the way, not giants) has been studied by animation students and enthusiasts to the point where Junction Point Studios aspired to recreate that level of expression and fluidity when creating Epic Mickey, or how Mickey defeats the giant has been homaged in other shorts as well as the airport fight from Captain America:Civil War, or just that wonderful storybook golden age Disney feel it has from start to finish, but I won’t. By all means, seek out the short and see it all for yourself.

No matter how many times the corporate side of Disney has airbrushed Mickey’s foibles to present him as the bland, perfect company mascot, Mickey’s bravery, kindness, and penchant for attracting trouble has never been fully scrubbed away. Different voice actors, animators, story writers and financial visionaries have come and gone throughout the years, and each has presented their own unique take on the character, but there’s no mistaking the world’s most famous mouse, the one who started it all.

Happy Birthday, Mickey. Here’s to 90 more.

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Thanks for reading! What are your favorite Mickey Mouse shorts? Share them in the comments and be sure to follow and check out my Patreon if you want to read more!

My Top 20 Favorite Mickey Mouse Shorts As a lifelong Disney fan I can't understate how much of an impact Mickey Mouse has had on me.

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msminutes · 3 years

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They got what they wanted, to get Thor out of the way of the throne, but at what cost?

———

MIDGARD.

When Odin said that Thor was banished to Midgard, memories of over seventy years ago flashed before Arselia's eyes. Her memories on Midgard, that she wished she could bury within the deepest depths of her mind, managed to add onto the heartbreak of losing Thor. She never wanted the blonde-haired god to be banished away and rid of his power, just as she never wanted to say goodbye to her first love. The man that she adored with all her heart. The man that even though he was not a perfect soldier, he was a good man. For a warrior like her, it was expected that she was to fall in love with someone as strong as her. Someone that managed to balance her out when it comes to power and skill set. But he was different. It didn't matter how strong he was, what mattered is what he stood for. The way he fought even if he was too weak to do so and the way he wanted to fight for his country because it was the right thing to do. His morals is what made Arselia fall into the spell of love. So in 1939 when the raven-haired goddess decided to visit Midgard after not being there for a millennia, she ended up falling in love with Steven Grant Rogers.

Arselia excused herself from the golden room of the Bifrost and teleported to her quarters within the palace. She sat herself on her emerald silk covers and contemplated everything that Loki and her had done. She quickly rummages through her beside table and finds a photo of her with two other men. Would Steve be proud of the person she is? How would James feel if he found out what she did to make sure Thor stayed off the throne? James. A brown-haired and blue-eyed flirt. On her time on Midgard, she met James at a small diner when he decided to buy her a meal. That one encounter managed to change Arselia's life in the most extraordinary way.

《♛》《♛》《♛》

OCTOBER 1939 (MIDGARDIAN YEARS)

It was a exciting day when Arselia decided to visit the precious realm of Midgard. The humans there spoke of the Asgardian Gods and Goddesses as if they were a thing of myths, when in reality, they exist. Midgard always intrigued the goddess. The way their planet known as "Earth" came to be was a story that Arselia loved reading about. Recently Arselia had heard the whispers of a war that has broken out amongst the Midgardians, causing the Mischievous goddess to want to visit the realm even more. She decided that on that sunny day she would visit the realm. She prepared herself for her trip and even created outfits that she learned were the latest fashion trends of the realm. She wore a cream colored, button up shirt that had a collar. As for pants she wore high-waisted emerald green trousers, with a wide pant-leg. She decided on black heels to pair with the outfit and curled and styled her hair the way she saw in a book known as a magazine from Midgard.

Not wanting to waste time, she wrote a note addressing where she would be for a couple days and to ask Heimdall to summon her if there is an emergency. The blue and green eyed goddess left the note on her bedside table where the servants would surely see it and deliver it to her friends and family. She teleported to the golden room of the Bifrost and Heimdall waited at his podium with Hofund in hand. "I see you are prepared for your travels to Midgard." Arselia softly smiles and nods her head. "Any location in particular? The realm is fairly large." "Brooklyn. Brooklyn, New York." "As you wish, princess."

Flashes of rainbow fill Arselia's vision as the Bifrost takes her to her desired location. Arselia lands right behind an abandoned building in the city and she makes her way to walk with the crowds. People make their ways past one another to get to work as some interact in conversation. The sounds of what Arselia read to be known as a car fill the streets as she walks along the sidewalks. Examining Midgard, it seems to be better developed then what it was ages ago. More buildings were built, better technology, though not as advanced as Asgard. On this trip to Midgard Arselia has decided to blend in with the crowd, rather than show off her powers and be praised just as the myths have said about her.

As she walks, she reads a big sign that says "Lee's Diner." The goddess read much about the strange Midgardian concoctions and being here, she decided she wanted to try them. She walked into the diner and politely waited to be seated. "Hello and welcome to Lee's diner! Would you like a booth, table, or stool?" The cheery woman asks. "A stool would be grand. Thank you." The woman raises an eyebrow after Arselia speaks. "You're not from around here, aren't you?" "You could say that." The goddess chuckles and is lead to her stool by a large counter top. Behind the counter stood an older man working. Arselia examines the menu excitedly. "Hello, what can I get you today?" The older man kindly asks behind the counter. His white hair shines from the lighting of the room and his glasses show Arselia a small reflection of herself. "I was wondering if I could order the delicacy of a cheeseburger and the drink of a soda." "Of course, coming right up!"

The mischievous goddess patiently waited for her food. As she waited she looked around the small diner in delight. The colorful posters and signs excited her as she read them. Men and women of all ages ate happily with one another as they converse about their day. From what Arselia has gathered it seems to be about midday in Brooklyn, hence the reasoning why it is busy in the diner. Continuing to gaze around, she senses someone sit next to her. "What's a beautiful doll like you sitting here alone?" When she goes to see who she is talking with, her eyes meet piercing blue ones. She studies the man's features that decided to talk to her. Short brown hair, a nice sharp jawline, a dazzling smile that can get any women to become weak in the knees. His eyes though, they not only held confidence, but happiness. In her lifetime Arselia has learned to read a lot of people, but a person's eyes is what truly shows who they are.

"Well I don't always need someone by my side." The man raises an eyebrow just as the waitress she met before did. "Feisty and an accent. What's your name?" The raven-haired goddess knew exactly what he was doing. Flirting with her. She had been flirted with many times, but this time he was different. He seemed to be the type of man that would back off instantly if you said you weren't interested. He would know how to respect a woman and treat her right if he was fully committed to a relationship. Arselia would continue his little game of flirting, but wouldn't let it go anywhere. She wasn't there to be in a relationship, she was there to explore the wonders of Midgard and enjoy her journey. "Arselia." "Gorgeous name, Arselia." The man says as he takes her hand and kiss her knuckles. "Handsome and a gentlemen. What's your name?" The man smirked as his blue eyes shimmered. "James, but most people call me Bucky." "Well then James, it is very lovely to meet you." The waiter brought Arselia her food and her eyes widened by it. James caught this and chuckled. "You're not from around, huh?" The goddess looked at the man again and shook her head. "No. No I am not." "Well then, how about I show you the ins and outs of Brooklyn and you agree to go dancing with me tonight." Arselia thought about the man's offer and didn't see a reason to not agree to it. "Alright then." James flashed his wonderful smile at her called the waiter over. "I'll have what she's having." He said as he handed over a five dollar bill to the waiter. "You needn't do that. I can pay for my own meal." The woman learned of the customs and how to pay on Midgard and found that she could easily summon money via her powers. "It's ok, doll. I wanted to show how much of a gentlemen I can be." The brown-haired man said with a wink. The warrior rolled her eyes and continued eating her tasty meal.

The two conversed for a little while as they ate. She learned that James was twenty-two years old and lived with his mother, father, sisters, and brothers. She even learned that he had a best friend named Steven, or as most people called him Steve. When asked about where she came from or her family, the goddess of lies simply made up lies with that silver tongue of hers. After about an hour in the diner, the pair left and walked across the street to Bucky's car. Being the gentleman that he was, he opened and held the door for her as she got inside. To say Arselia was fascinated in an understatement. She had never seen a vehicle like this before. Sure Asgard has ships to travel to space in and different animals to ride, but this was different. The leather interior of the car felt smooth against her skin.

James got into the drivers seat of the tan colored car, and started it up. The two drove through the city and James explained all the buildings that were there and their purposes. As they drove the radio was set to a low volume and different slow tunes played. The windows of the cars were down and the wind blew through the raven-haired goddess' hair. Arselia's face was one of delight as James gave her information on the lovely city. An assortment of yellows, oranges, and pinks danced in the sky as night approached. "I'll drop you off at your place so that you can freshen up, then I'll pick you back up and we'll head to the bar." Arselia nods her head, then realizes something. She hasn't thought of a place to stay. She quickly comes up with a lie before she can orchestrate a plan on where her and her belongings would stay. "You can drop me off at the diner, I left my car their." James simply nods his head and hums along to a song playing. "Why don't we meet at the diner and walk together to the bar?" "That would be lovely."

James drops the goddess off and she makes her way to the abandoned building that the Bifrost dropped her off behind. Arselia figures that she can easily make a home out of it with some magic and her amazing interior design skills. She renovates the small building into a two story home that includes a kitchen, living room, dance room, dining room, master bedroom, guest bedroom, and a bathroom all with the furnishing inspired by the decade. As she uses magic to create her desired home, she gets ready for her dance date with James. The goddess decides to wear a floor length, elegant green dress. The sleeves are ruffled and towards the neckline of the dress is a little bow. She keeps her hairstyle and shoes the same, but applies a red lipstick. She looks in the mirror of her newly decorated room and adores the way she looks in her dress. Although she wears her classic green armor most days, she does like to wear a dress every once in a while.

Leaving the house she seals it with magic that doesn't allow anyone but her, or people she gives permission to, to enter. The night is young, yet as she walks towards the diner to meet James, their are already drunken men eyeing her in an alleyway. One whistles and decides to be the boldest one out of the group. "Where are you headed, dame?" "Somewhere you're not." The men chuckle and walk closer to her. "Why don't you let us take you out and buy you a drink." A tall man asks. His breath smelt heavily of alcohol and his words were slurred. Arselia simply smirks at the group of three men, then summons her daggers. "If you ever think about touching me I will be sure to cut off your hands as I electrocute you causing your brain to implode pain. I don't think we would want to make that much of a mess, now would we, boys?" The men's eyes are wide and step away from the mischievous goddess. "How- Who- What are you?" "A woman that wont hesitate to murder you slowly and painfully if I catch you attempting to do what you just did to other women as they make their ways." The now frightened men stumble out of the alley way and Arselia retracts her blades. The warrior takes a deep breath before going about back to the diner.

Whilst walking she sees the very man taking her out to dance. She also notices him engaging in conversation with a scrawny blonde-haired man. She can only assume it's the Steven fellow that James talked so much about. From the way the man talked about his best friend, it seems like he truly cares for him. "Hello boys." Arselia happily says as she walks towards them. James' breathe hitches when he sees the outfit Arselia chose. Steven's eyes widened when he saw her. He wasn't one to believe in love at first sight, but man was he attracted to her. Just by the way she was walking she held such power in her steps. But Steve would be a fool to think that he would ever have a chance with her. Most girls usually go for Bucky and leave him on the side lines wishing he was his best friend. She would never in a million years go for him. Right?

"Hello, I'm Arselia. You must be Steven, James has told me so much about you." The goddess says kindly. Steve's cheeks tint with pink and he holds out his hand for her to shake. "Y-yeah that's me." Arselia examines the man and his figure. She notices how small he is compared to the other men she has seen in the realm. But his eyes, they carry kindness with a hint of fear. She has yet to figure out what the fear is, but has a goal set on it. Whatever that fear may be, she wouldn't want the man in front of her to experience. He seemed so nice, so innocent. Something within her has such an urge to protect him from everything. Maybe she would.

"You look dashing, Lia." "Lia?" "Yes, that is my official nickname for you." James says with a smirk. The woman rolls her eyes as she thinks about how that is the same nickname Loki had given her. "Whatever you say, James." Steve looks to his friend in confusion. "Buck, I'm surprised you let her call you by your actual name, you usually hate that." "Key word, punk. Usually. But, I like when she says it." The brown-haired man winks then proceeds to take the goddess's hand and lead her to the bar. Steve resides to the warriors left as Bucky is to the right. The three of them get to know each other more as they walk, and enjoy the small breeze of the fresh night.

The trio make it to the bar where Bucky orders him and Arselia some alcohol she has never heard of before. Steve decides to go for a water and when Arselia asks why, he simply responds with the fact that he can't carry his alcohol. When Bucky finally dragged Arselia onto the dance floor, she wasn't used to this way of dancing, as it is fairly different from the way she would on Asgard. Fortunately, Bucky leads her and teaches her the proper steps and she manages to master it in no time. Throughout the night of dancing, she keeps her eyes on Steve and watches how no one has yet to offer him to dance. She feels bad for the scrawny man as she can see him sadly sit down with his water while her and his best friend have been happily dancing the night away. She looks Bucky in those piercing blue eyes as they sway to the music. "I feel bad for him." "Who?" "Steve." The man looks towards his friend and frowns. "No girl wants to ever dance with him. They say he's either too short or too skinny, they yet to realize he's a good person." "Can I?" "Can you what?" "Dance with him." The man in front of her raises his eyebrows in surprise, but lets go of the woman, allowing her to go over and talk to Steve.

The Goddess of Mischief makes her way to the table where Steve resides and offers him her hand. The man looks at her confused. "What?" "Would you like to dance?" "W-Why me? Aren't you here with Bucky?" "Yes, but I would like to dance with you, if you gave me the honor." Steve looked to the beautiful woman standing in front of him and hesitantly took her hand. "This was my first time dancing, you know." The goddess states as they walk to the dance floor. "Really, a beautiful dame, woman I should say, like you hasn't danced before?" "Well not like this." Steve eyes her curiously. "Well uh, this is my first time too." He says as he looks to the ground in shame. Arselia's eyes widen in disbelief. "You must have danced." "Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying. And the past few years just didn't seem to matter that much. Figured I'd wait." "For what?" "The right partner." Arselia tilts her head to the side. "Well, I hope I'm the right partner." Steve looks to the goddess with admiration in his eyes. "I'm sure you are."

In that moment of talking to Steve she felt a warm feeling in her stomach, almost as if butterflies were fluttering. Arselia had never once fallen in love, yeah she had one night stands that didn't have any attachments to them other than attraction, but this was different. This feeling inside her for a man who she had found out feared rejection the most, wanted to do anything but that to him. She wanted to embrace him.

The pair make it to the dance floor and Steve places his hands on her hip and in her other hands, after asking for permission. The two start dancing to a song that plays as they gaze into each other's eyes. Those ocean eyes that she adored. She could drown in those depths of blue everyday. And she did. But, nothing lasts forever. Bucky watched as the two danced together, he saw the way that they looked at each other intensely and with adoration, even if they had met not even three hours ago. Arselia was a beautiful woman, he couldn't deny that. But maybe, she would be Steve's beautiful woman. He promised to himself for Steve's sake to lay off of her and let him have this. There are other women out there, even if they weren't as extraordinary as she was.

TWO MONTHS LATER

DECEMBER 1939

Arselia sat in her apartment in front of the fire place with her record player going. She hummed to the tunes of the Midgardian song as she warmed up from being out all day. Lately she has been obsessed with going to the library and reading poetry. She especially loves the poet Edgar Allen Poe and his works of literature. "I see you have made yourself at home on Midgard." A voice says from behind Arselia's couch. Though, she could recognize that voice and sense that magic anywhere. "I have, my dear soul bond." She turns around to see an illusion of Loki adorned in his classic green armor. She watches as Loki looks around her cozy home. "It is very small for someone of your ranks." "That may be so, but it is perfect for me." The god looks at his soul bond and sees how happy she truly seems to be here. Not having any responsibilities except for exploring and meeting new people. "Would you stay here given the chance?" The raven-haired goddess considers her options. The people she's met here and the home she has created, she absolutely adores. Home. Asgard was her home, but this was different. Although she did miss her home realm, she enjoyed every moment of being here. She especially enjoyed being with Steve and James.

The goddess's lack of answering is an answer enough for Loki. He misses being able to be with his soul bond and talk to her on a daily basis. Projecting illusions across realms takes not only a lot of energy, but a lot of power. They talked about once each month she had been there. Though, this time around when the God of Mischief looks into his best friend's eyes he can see the happiness, the freedom, the love. "Who is he?" The woman's cheeks turn pink and she looks down. "Who is who?" Loki's mouth contorts into his infamous smirk and walks closer to his soul bond. "The man you have fallen for." Arselia looks up and rolls her eyes. "I have not fallen for anyone, you fool." "Though you may be the Goddess of Lies, I am the God of Lies. That right there, darling, was one of the biggest lies you have told." The goddess sighs and rests her head against the back of her couch. Loki simply sits next to her on the couch and summons a cup of his favorite tea for himself. "Well, go on."

"His name is Steven and he is one of the kindest and generous men I have ever met. He is not a warrior, nor does he have the physique of one, but he does his best when it comes to fighting. With the recent war that has begun over here, their army needs more soldiers and he has been trying his best to enlist even though they keep turning him down. He is a small man who is weaker than others, yet he holds his head high when there is a challenge. Many men would rather stay at home not participating in the war to fight for their country. But him, he's different. No matter his size, he still wants to fight because it's the right thing to do. His morals and what he truly believes in is nothing but good. He is a true gentlemen and is so very kind." The goddess finishes her statement by releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding in. The god raises his eyebrows in astonishment. "You're in love, Lia." The goddess looks to her friend in disbelief. "I am not in love, Lo. Love is for children." "You have let down the walls you created for yourself millennia's ago and allowed him in. If anything you embraced him being there and breaking through your rough exterior. The way you talk about him as if he is everything to you and the look in your eyes when describing him just proves that. Also, I can sense your emotions and can feel the happiness residing within you when talking of him."

The goddess momentarily thinks about what her best friend has said. Has she really let down her walls for Steve and even Bucky? Was she in love with Steve? She wasn't sure what being in love was, but maybe it is the warm feeling that she gets whenever she is with Steve. "I hate when you're right." The god rolls his eyes as his illusion starts fading. "I have to go dear sister, do what you feel is right in your heart. Know that I love you." Arselia looks to Loki and smiles. "I love you most."

Arselia sits in her home with her mind going wild. She gets up off her couch and goes to her coat closet. Within the closet she sees the secret compartment that she hid Steve and Bucky's Christmas gifts in. They were shocked when they found out she didn't know what Christmas was, but eventually explained everything to her. They even helped her decorate her home and put up a tree for the holiday. The warrior took a look at the gifts and sighed. She bought Steve a pack of drawing pencils, the same pack that she bought herself and would allow him to borrow whenever her asks. The two of them would spend hours drawing together with the record player going in the background. She absolutely adored his drawings and wanted to see him do it more often with better materials. As for James, she got him a copy of Alice in Wonderland. He talked about how he read the story when he was younger and absolutely loved it. His favorite character was the Mad Hatter, so naturally she got a book that had him on the cover. Yeah, Arselia had fallen in love with Steven, Loki got that right. Though, she has also developed feelings for James. His charming personality caught her attention and the way he would always stand up for Steve whenever he got into a fight. She loved how he would stand behind him to make Steve seem like the bigger person in the situation and how he encouraged Steve to continue drawing. Even if she admired these things about the brown-haired man. She didn't feel the burning desire that she did for Steve. So in that moment of looking at the gifts she bought, the Goddess of Mischief, Lies, and Thunder had realized that during her trip to Midgard she had fallen in love with Steve Rogers.

#marvel #marvelcast #marvelstudio #marvel cinematic universe #Steven Grant Rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #captain america x oc #captain america #thor #loki #bucky barnes #Natasaha Romanoff #avengers

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starseedwanderer · 7 years

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My Past. Drugs: Love, and Loneliness! But, no Regret!

I’ve been thinking lately, and decided it would be good to get it all down somewhere. Thinking about my past; about decisions I made, choices made for me, mistakes that happened, and everything I learned. Also, as with most things I write, I figured if even one person smiles reading it, learns something from it, or can relate and not feel so alone, then it was worth my time writing it in the first place. Now even though this is about my past, just because I feel like sharing doesn’t mean others involved would feel the same. Hence, why I will change names where I have to. If I can’t avoid using a name.

Once I get going it should flow more easily, but deciding where to start, now that’s a challenge. Don’t want to go too far back, because then this will turn in to a bloody novel. Can’t start too late though, or there won’t be context for what you read. Figure, explaining my history with/feelings about drugs will be a good enough kicking off point.

Although I wouldn’t ever suggest anybody have the relationship with drugs I have had, I can’t say I regret it to be honest. I mean when I was on drugs, I was so much more than I am in my day to day. I was powerful. I was charming. I was the life and soul of the party, even when there wasn’t a party going on. I made friends with everyone, everywhere I went. I was confident. Hell, I was thinner too. That moment that came after. After the smoke filled your lungs, the tab dissolved on your tongue/in your drink, the powder burnt your nostrils with that chemical burn, or you could just feel the pills making their way clunkily down your throat. When you knew your mind was no longer just your own. When the world began to shift, and alter, around you. Becoming a Willy Wonkaesque, falling down the rabbit hole, looking through a kaleidoscope, dreamscape, of what it was just a moment before. I used to love that moment. I used to live for that moment. To me, that was the fire door escape, from the burning room that I saw the world as.

I would take almost anything back then, and by back then mind you I am talking about 12 years ago. We (myself and the others I chose to spend that moment in my life with) would mix drugs, we weren’t picky about what it particularly was either, and would disappear in to that chemical fog for days, Hell weeks, at a time. My, then, best friend and myself, even one time did something that by all intensive purposes should have killed us. In the space of 6-8 hours, we took 25 Ecstasy pills each, in handfulls of 5, at random times. On top of all the drinking we were doing, and had been doing for days, and the suitcase load of weed we were doing, and again had been doing for days. If I’m honest, my memory of that night, and the following 2 nights after it, is spotty at best. Then again, from the 6 year time period where I took drugs, I have a lot of permanently blank parts in my memories. That being said, I was never fully out of control back then, and I know this because I had one rule, and I never broke it. Whatever I did, I never touched drugs that involved me needing to inject them. That was my line that I wouldn’t cross, and I didn’t. I know I didn’t, because in the brief moments of clarity, after the times when I had lost time, I always checked all over my body for track marks. Never found any. The times when my memory was fine as well, I distinctly remember never braking that rule. That one rule. My one rule.

Now why I started taking drugs, that is a whole thing that to be honest I don’t have the spare 3-4 days to write in detail. I could, but I won’t. The bare bones reason though, in one word; Depression.

Just saying “Depression” and leaving it at that, feels a bit cheap though, so I will go in to a bit more detail. I first started feeling depressed when I was 14, but back then people used to just say I was “sad, a lot”. That feeling though; of being the only black and white person in a world of colour, the weight of loneliness crushing your body and soul, the ever present sucking void just constantly growing in your core. For anybody who has felt it, they know that Depression and sadness, they’re not even in the same God-damn league. Hell, they’re two completely different games. The feeling of being powerless, against this dark force attaching itself to your soul. By the time I was 18, I couldn’t handle it any more, and drugs let me escape that. Even if only momentarily. Escape not only the Depression, but everything that came with that. The anger issues: fueled by the fact that if you’re going to feel so weak emotionally and mentally, then by God you will show the world just how tough your are physically. In all it’s destructive, raging beauty. The over-thinking: every moment of your life just playing over and over in your mind, every way you could have done it better, every way it could have gone differently, just constantly playing over and over in your mind. Even the moments that were nothing, that were just blips on the radar, suddenly becoming these epic dilemmas that you had to retroactively do better than you did in. I could go on, listing all the things that come piggy-backing in to your life with Depression, but you get the idea. Drugs, they just seemed to be a life preserver floating my way, while I drowned in a vast ocean of these problems that I had nobody to talk to about. Or felt like I had nobody to talk to about, when in truth, I had an army of people I could have talked to. If only I had paid attention.

Those 6 years though, betwen 18 and 24, when my veins were filled more with chemicals than blood, when if I had bottled my sweat I could have made a fortune because of the amount of drugs I sweated out my system, and when I saw the world in any way except how it actually was. My God, were those 6 years equally both a massive mistake, and a path to a better life.

If I am being honest, I regret those 6 years because of how much I missed out on in life, and how far from actually being helpful they were. Even if at the time I thought they were the only thing that could help. On the same note, I also don’t regret them. They showed me a different version of myself, that I could find even without the drugs if I put the effort in. Now I’ve not found that version of me yet, but I am damn closer than I was 6 years ago when I quit drugs, and immensly closer than I was 12 years ago when I started taking drugs. The Depression is not gone, it’s still there, I just control it more now, and refuse to let it drown me again. I fight it, as it walks along beside me. I still have the same issues I had before the drugs. They didn’t cure, or bury, any of it. At most the drugs were just a reprieve from my troubles. Every day is a battle, but it’s a battle I am slowly and steadfastly winning. Plus, how can I regret something that brought certain people in to my life. People who to this day are still here (not all of them, but the ones that matter).

I think my point in writing this though was just to tell you:

It’s okay. Your problems and issues are immense. They’re not going anywhere any time soon. If you’re willing to fight though, they’re not going to stop you, not by a long shot. You may find help early on, and be blessed with a support system of people that stand shoulder to shoulder with you to fight. Or, you may spend 6 years in a chemical fog like I did. Whatever path though that your life takes, it’s okay. You have enough going on. Don’t regret your past decisions, not completely. Even Hell has good people in it.

I went to Hell with a smile, and a glazed look in my eyes, and I’m still here, and only getting stronger.

It’s okay.

#loneliness #love #drugs #regret #noregret #past #learning #honest #lessons #decisions #choices #changes #mistakes #control #depression #angerissues

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carygarman980 · 5 years

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Why You Should Invest in Wood Stoves Rather Than Regular Heaters

With so many heaters to choose from in the market, finding the right one that fits your needs is becoming more and more confusing. Often times, people don’t sweat about researching the specifications of heaters and ultimately end up buying a product that doesn’t fully serve their requirements. Well, we are here to tell you why a little bit of R & D (research and development) is an absolute must before buying anything, especially for a heating device, that can potentially serve you consistent heat for a very long time.

To make this article a little more useful for you, let me suggest an unconventional and efficient type of heater that will serve all of your needs: Wood Burning Stoves. In this article, I’m going to compare wood stoves to all of the conventional heaters and list all of the possible factors that you should consider before buying the optimal heater. Spoiler alert: Wood Stoves rip each one of the conventional heaters on virtually all points.

So, without further ado, let’s put Wood stoves up against the most common heaters, starting with Radiative Halogen Heaters.

Wood Stove vs Radiative Halogen Heaters

I’m going to start off with the type of heating which these two types of heating devices use in order to generate heat. While wood stoves work in the good old-fashioned way of burning wood to produce heat, radiative heaters generate hot infrared rays that later spread in their periphery. Now, let’s compare these two, in terms of scope of heating and utility.

Scope of Heating

The difference in principle of heating between the two appliances results in a variation in their heating ranges. While modern wood stoves heat up the entire space, radiative heaters only provide warmth to the specific areas and objects which are exposed to their IR rays. The obvious advantage for high efficiency wood stoves here is that along all with objects, they also keep the air warmer and drier. Conversely, heating from radiative heaters is more like being in the full sun on a windy winter’s day.

Utility

With a limited scope of heating, radiative heaters are constrained in terms of providing a multi-purpose heater. On the other hand, wood stoves come with a variety of utilities. From room heating to cooking and grilling, wood burning cook stoves provide a complete solution to all the heating requirements for your place.

Wood Stove vs Fan Heaters

Fan heaters draw ambient air inside them and run by a heating coil to deliver hot air. Contrary to the radiative heaters, fan heaters specifically heat the surrounding air to provide heating. This is where they are better than radiative heaters, but then again, get outperformed in terms of utility against wood stoves. I’m going to compare these two in terms of portability and noise.

Portability

This really isn’t a standard black vs white comparison between wood stoves and fan heaters. Of course, mini versions of both types of heating appliances offer portability. On a comparative analysis, though, wood stoves outperform in terms of portability against fan heaters. The number one reason, once fan heaters’ batteries run out, fan heaters are completely useless without electricity, while wood stoves can run as long as there is wood available.

Wood stoves compared to pellet stoves for example, do not require electricity, making them a much better option for off grid applications where the space does not get electricity to power the pellet stove for it to function.

Noise

This is where fan heaters really bite the dust (pun-intended). As discussed, the fan in fan heaters is used to draw ambient air, and thus, is a vital heating component. With this fan comes an annoying sound that decreases the appeal of fan heaters. Wood Stoves, on the other hand, generate little to no noise at all when they are operating. The sound of burning wood can be very calming!

Wood Stove vs Oil-filled Heaters

Oil-filled heaters, though widely used, are quickly becoming less and less captivating due to a number of reasons. Here is a comparison between a wood stove and oil-filled heaters based on environmental-friendliness and safety.

Environmental Friendliness

In recent years, the major cause of the decline in oil-filled heaters is the restriction on various oils that have been deemed harmful to the environment. However, they are still prevalent in many parts of the world where they are filled with diesel to produce heat, but that doesn’t take away the fact that even diesel releases harmful pollutants during combustion. As a comparison, wood stoves use the combustion from wood as a source of heat. Also, most stoves these days, including stove made by Cubic Mini Wood Stoves, now have secondary combustion systems which consume the majority of the smoke, which the stove uses to produce more heat. Not only do they emit less smoke, but they are also very eco-friendly since the natural carbon burnt during the combustion of wood has a minimal environmental impact.

It also provides a better environment inside the space. Unlike other heat sources like propane which emit water vapor as a bi-product. Wood stoves pull the humidity out the air making it much more comfortable for all those inside.

Safety

It’s no secret that oil-filled heaters can be unsafe appliances as they carry highly flammable substances for combustion. They are always vulnerable to cause a blazing ignition in the case of a gas leak or a break in the lines! On top of that, having a tank of propane on a boat, totally isolated from civilization is not the safest either.

Conversely, compact wood burning stoves use wooden blocks that do not catch fire instantly, and hence, are much safer and easier to control than the oil-filled heaters. They also do not have gas lines nor require tanks to sore these fuels. If something ever did occur with a wood stove, shutting the stove off is as simple as closing the air intake. Any space with a wood stove should always have a CO2 alarm, and smoke detector to alert the occupants. But if the stove pipe is cleaned as it should be, leaks are rare, and or do not happen at all.

There you have it, a complete guide to buying the most efficient and effective heaters for your home, RV, boat or any space of your choice. And the best part is, wood stoves are now available anywhere, Canada, USA or even Europe. You can shop for wood stoves based on space and enjoy the most amazing solutions for your heating needs.

This article brought to us by Cubic Mini Wood Stoves

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itslyf-blog1 · 6 years

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8 Longest Aircraft In The World

By the invention of airplanes, they have revolutionized the transportation of the whole world. These big machines are used in military operations, cargo and as well as public transportation. They are pretty similar to the big whales that know how to fly...!!! It is the most effective, comfortable and fastest mode of transportation.

8 Longest Aircraft in the World starting from the back are as follows:

8. Tupolev TU-160 :

This airplane is also known as 'White Swan' for its color and smoothness. This 54 meters long aircraft is the longest, heaviest airplane of its kind and this is the reason why it owns a record of 'World's Fastest Strategic Bomber' with the longest range of bombs. This supper plane does not have any kind of defensive weapon that is why when it flew, some long-range fighter planes give it a cover. It has its own GPS jamming system and anti-satellite weapons. This is the last strategic bomber of Soviet design that started flying in 1987. It even operates for Russian Airforce till now. Its maximum speed is 2220 kmph. 7. Airbus Beluga XL:

It is considered to be as World's Biggest Cargo Plane in the world. It looks like a Dolphin. Beluga XL is 6 meters long and 1 meter wider than the previous model because of which the load capacity of cargo increases. The cabin and cargo warehouse's internal structure has been redesigned in order to increase the storage capacity of the plane. Before going to fly, it still has to pass a few tests. In this aircraft, Rolls Royce Trent 700 engine which gives appropriate power to this 63-meter long airplane. The company is trying to make this plane fly by the end of the year 2019. 6. Antonov AN-124 :

There is no doubt that Antonov AN-124 is a huge airplane and it also looks like a monster flying in the sky. It is one of the biggest aircraft in the world. It was first flawed in 1982. These planes are used to carry trains and other huge engineering pieces from one place to another. Its storage capacity is equal to 150 tons. This aircraft is capable of transporting 88 passengers and its total length is 69 meters with the highest speed of 865 kmph. But after the breakdown of Soviet Union, the production of this plane was stopped and the under-construction models were completed between 2001 to 2004.

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1. Ready to Rev with the Honda Civic Type R 2018 2. Must Checkout Honda Amaze Pricing, Interiors and Exteriors 3. The All New Swift 2018 Model 4. Yamaha YZF R15 V3 5. Top 10 Fighter Jets That Changed The World 6. 8 Longest Aircraft In The World 5. Stratolaunch Systems:

After years of development, a company by Paul Allen, who is also a founder of Microsoft has introduced this rocket launcher aircraft. This insane 73-meter long plane has 2 cabins with a 177-meter wide wingspan. It has a total load capacity of 22.6 tons. Without cargo, its weight is 227 tons and it can fly with a carrying load of 600 tons also. This plane can fly up to an altitude of 10 km when it reaches the maximum altitude, it launches the cargo in the orbit and then comes back. Its first flight was planned in 2016 but unfortunately, it cannot be done at that time. People belonging to the company stated that it will start flying in 2019 and the first commercial flight is now planned in 2020. 4. Airbus A350-1000: This plane, that is a bit more than 73 meters is the most extended version of the Airbus family. It can transport 440 passengers at a time which are 50 more in numbers as compared to the previous model of Airbus. It has a maximum fuel capacity of 1 lakh 56 thousand liters. Airbus has stated that the fuel consumption of this aircraft is 25% lesser than the rival companies. It can fly about 14,800 km in one go. It consists of some luxury facilities like switch seats which can be converted into double beds whenever needed along with some modern interiors which provide full comfort to the passengers to travel long distances. A total expenditure of 11 billion Euro has taken place in this project. 3. Lockheed C-5 Galaxy :

Galaxy C-5 is the biggest transport aircraft used for the American airforce. It is designed by the Lockheed company and its operations were started in 1968. Its total length is 75 meters which provides a good cargo capacity to transport some fully equipped military systems including Combat Tanks. This plane is used for US military operations and is to help the armed forces during any kind of war attacks. 2. Boeing 747-8:

The total length of this aircraft is a bit more than 76 meters from its nose to tail which makes it 'The World's Largest Passenger Plane'. The new model of Boeing is developed from the old model 747. It is designed with present technologies and streamlining. Its technology is a bit different having a different engine and raised wings which helps to reduce noise pollution as well as harmful emissions while flying. It performs better and is also light in weight, it also easy to maintain. The model used for passengers can transport 467-581 passengers at a time which depends on some specific characteristics. It can fly about 15,000 km without any refueling. 1. AirLander-10 :

If we see it technically, it is not the airplane but is a proper invention to be on this list as it is World's Longest Aircraft. This is a hybrid of helicopter and machine plane. It is the first generation of silent aircraft which is energy efficient as well as environment-friendly. This airship is filled with Helium having 4 diesel engines which provide a total power of 355 horsepower. The cargo capacity of this aircraft is 10,000 kg and can fly at 500 meters height. The maximum speed of this 92 meters long aircraft is 150 kmph. It is profitable for patrolling purposes and for scientific research also. This was the list of World's Longest Aircrafts which is very interesting if one has gone through it thoroughly. It includes Airbuses, military carriage Airplanes, Airbuses and hence almost every kind of Aircraft are present in it. It is normal if one feels to try at least one of them after reading the whole list.....!!!! Written By– Vaibhav Chauhan (Team- ItsLyf) Check out the: Blogs on Automobiles >> 8 Longest Aircraft In The World Read the full article

#8BiggestAircraftintheWorld #8LongestAircraftintheWorld #AirbusA350-1000 #AirbusBelugaXL #AirLander-10 #AntonovAN-124 #BiggestAircraftsintheworld #Boeing747-8 #LockheedC-5Galaxy #LongestAircraft #StratolaunchSystems #TupolevTU-160

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truereviewpage · 6 years

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Making A Concrete Coffee Table Top

Hey, good news! I finally have a place to put my feet up in the beach house living room. Or, as Sherry would state this good news: we finally have a coffee table!

light fixture / ceiling medallion / similar rug / similar sofa / similar curtains / curtain rods

And it was a DIY that was SO MUCH CHEAPER than the high end alternative, so three cheers for that. Oh and people who follow our InstaStories know we’ve switched out the rug in here for this rug since taking these pics, so there will be a post all about that (and the other dining room tweak we’ve made) coming up in a week or two. But back to the coffee table.

We’ve actually had the table base for a while, but it’s been completely topless for months. We scored this wooden octagonal table base from a neighbor who had planned on adding a top to it at some point, but after months of doing nothing with it she put it on our neighborhood buy/sell board for a whopping $7. After paying 700 pretty pennies for it, it remained topless in our garage for several months before moving to the beach house last fall (see below)… where it remained – still topless – until last month.

Our grand scheme was to get a stone top custom cut for it. Marble would look great, but we also considered more durable options like quartz. But quotes from two different stone yards – even for remnant pieces – came back between $700 – $900. I KNOW. They were MUCH higher than we expected, partially because of the size (it’s 38″ at its widest, which makes it deeper than a standard countertop by a fair amount) and the octagonal shape.

So we quickly shifted from “buying a stone top for it” to “DIYing a stone-like top for it” – and after weighing all sorts of solutions (faux stone laminate, a wood top we painted white or even tried to “marble”, etc) we landed a white concrete top that would give us a nice chunky stone look, but at a much cheaper cost. Unfortunately, the project kept getting nudged behind bigger tasks like installing the kitchen and building bunk beds. Hence why I was forced to uncomfortably prop my feet up on this edge of this puppy each time we visited. Feel bad for me, please.

We feared that a solid poured concrete slab would (a) be very heavy and (2) be very prone to cracking or breaking – especially without adding lots of extra support under the table top. Plus little kid heads + a solid hunk of concrete sounded worrisome. So instead we decided to create a wood top and then cover the wood with Ardex Feather Finish, which is a thin concrete material that we used years ago to give our laminate kitchen counters the appearance of solid concrete.

Making The Wood Coffee Table Top

We picked up a 4 x 4′ sheet of 3/4″ plywood because we wanted something sturdy enough to span the tabletop without sagging. To mark my cuts, I simply flipped the table over on top of the plywood and traced the edges with a pen. Don’t worry, I’ll show you how I made it overhang the table’s edge in a moment.

Using my circular saw outside, I trimmed off the edges to get an octagon that perfectly fit the top of our table base. No overhang. Yet.

Next I cut 8 pieces of 1 x 2″ whitewood to create a border around my cut plywood. After summoning some of my 8th-grade geometry, I determined that I needed to cut each one at a 22.5-degree angle to fit them around the octagon. But surprise-surprise, my miter saw was one step ahead of me and already had that as a preset angle.

Then, with the plywood laid on top of the base with the edges flush, I started nailing each of my 1 x 2″ pieces around the edges (into the plywood, not the table base). I put wood glue on it before I nailed, which help things hold for the long haul. Adding this border did a few helpful things:

It made the wood top slightly larger than the base, giving it a nice overhang

It made the wood top look twice as thick as it really is, without adding much more weight to it

It helped keep the top in place by making it almost like a snug shoebox top. I still screwed it to the base from underneath just to be safe.

Once it was all nailed in, I used wood putty to fill in all of my gaps and nail holes. This probably wasn’t a super critical step (I was going to coat this with a skim coat of concrete, after all) but I discovered the table isn’t a perfect octagon, so some of my corners weren’t as tight as I’d hoped. This shot is from before I sanded the excess wood filler off:

Applying The Concrete Finish

We haven’t used Ardex Feather Finish since our first project with it: our old kitchen’s laminate counters (here’s the tutorial for applying it and then sealing them to be food safe). While we decided the application was awesome for a quick makeover, they did get a little oil-stained around the stove since we used food-safe sealer as opposed to some of the more heavier duty sealers. No worries, we just added a cutting board to cover the small splatters – and we loved the imperfections and movement that was created in the application process. Definitely a whole lot better than the old plastic-y counters the house came with. Overall: we’d definitely recommend this method for a kitchen counter update – especially if you use a stronger sealer.

For the coffee table we decided to use the white Ardex instead of the standard gray color, so we tracked down a 10 pound bag online for $40. The dry Ardex mix just combines with water, so to apply it all you really need are some mixing/measuring buckets and various sized trowels to apply and smooth it. Oh, and sandpaper and a power sander (this is the one we have).

The bag suggested a 2 to 1 mix of Ardex powder to water, but I read our old post and reminded myself that I had liked a bit more water than that – it helped keep the mix looser and easier to spread. So I started by measuring one small batch at a time (I think I needed about twice this much to complete one coat).

I mixed them together using a small trowel, making sure to getting any remaining powder mixed in. I aimed for a thick pancake batter consistency – like it would sorta hold to my trowel for a moment before dripping off on its own.

Then I just scooped everything onto my table and started spreading it smooth, using larger trowels on the top and smaller ones on the edges. Note: whatever surface you’re doing this on should be sanded enough to be rough. Our plywood was already slightly textured, so I could skip this step, but if you’re doing it on the top of a piece of furniture, be sure to take a pass with low-grit sandpaper first (like 60-80 grit).

Ardex takes more than one coat (we did two this time) so my first pass was really about coverage, not smoothness. I was worried about sanding too much off during the next step, especially on the edges and corners, so I threw caution to the wind and really laid it on thick around the edge.

I gave it several hours to dry and then came back to start smoothing. The first thing I did (and my favorite part) was to use a putty knife to scrape all of the stalactites that dripped down the bottom edge. It was so satisfying and it gave us a really clean edge on the bottom.

Then I took some low-grit sandpaper (80) and went to town on the rest of the top with my palm sander. Since I knew another coat was coming after this one, I wasn’t concerned about getting it flawlessly smooth. I mostly wanted to eliminate any hard ridges that would catch clumps of Ardex during my next application.

This is what the top looked like after I sanded the first coat. Obviously, you can see lots of my trowel marks as well as little pockets where the Ardex didn’t spread completely smoothly. It’s a bit rougher than we wanted for the final product, but it was fine for a first coat.

The second coat went on in pretty much the exact same method – except I did mix the Ardex a bit thinner and I took a bit more care getting a smoother application since this would be the top one that’s seen by everyone. Plus, when I sanded it, I moved from my initial low-grit (80) sandpaper down to 120 then 220, so that the finished table was super smooth. I didn’t remember to snap any photos of the coffee table after we sanded the second coat, but took lots of them once it was sealed and finished, so if we skip ahead for a second, here’s the finished result:

Sealing The Concrete

There are lots of products out there for sealing concrete. As I mentioned, we used food safe eco-sealer on our kitchen counters, which we think might be the reason tiny little grease spatters sunk in next to the stove – but since we’re not planning to prepare food on this table, we went with something heavier duty for a nice super-durable finish this time. Our final choice? This “Wet-Look” Sealer by Behr. Sherry suggested something high-gloss, which would really mimic that glossy stone look, and we were both really happy with how it turned out. Almost a mirror-like shine – which you can sort of see in the photo above.

I just used a small foam roller to apply a thin coat along the top and all of the sides. Once it had dried for a few hours, we did a second coat (and later a third coat, just to be safe). I barely made a dent in the 1 gallon container (it was the smallest one they sold) but at least I have some on hand to do a touch-up sealing coat every year or two, just to be safe.

Once it was all fully dry, we brought it in and let it cure for a week before putting any objects on it (not that it needs that long – we just weren’t at the beach house for a week). And BOY DOES IT FEEL GOOD TO HAVE A COFFEE TABLE!

light / ceiling medallion / similar rug / similar curtains / curtain rods / TV stand / similar chair

The white top breaks up the darker rug and couch nicely, and also helps tie together some of the other bright white accents like the bookshelf and the curtains.

It’s hard to tell from these photos, but although the concrete is super glossy and chunky, it still has imperfections, which is definitely part of the charm. Instead of looking like a big block of shiny plastic, it gives off that raw concrete vibe – even in the glossy white color. This next picture probably best shows a few light trowel marks. It all feels smooth to the touch, but when you look closely they’re definitely there. Again, this is some of the “interest” that we expected from the Ardex process (or at least my version of it – ha!) and for us it takes the place of the movement we would’ve gotten from a stone like marble.

Sherry and I have also discussed everything from staining the wood base a little bit darker (especially to disguise the light edges) to painting the while base a glossy white to emphasize the interesting shape of the legs. But for now I’ve argued that we should just kick up our feet and enjoy having a place to actually kick up our feet. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

bookcase / similar pink pillow / similar blue pillow / white faux wood window blinds

And don’t even get me started on the other furniture adjustments we’re thinking about in this room. Actually since we took these photos we’ve painted and recovered two armchairs for that wall on the right, so there’s a lot more comfy seating in here now (although we’re thinking about a few other adjustments before calling it done). But that’s a topic for another day!

Also! If you have any where-did-you-get-that questions about the beach house (or paint color questions, which we also get a lot) this page has all the answers for you.

P.S. Do you get our free weekly emails? We love sending bonus details, design tips, random style thoughts, and other house-related stuff. Click here to get them delivered right to your inbox. And thanks to everyone who is on the list already – Sherry loves putting them together for you each week.

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post Making A Concrete Coffee Table Top appeared first on Young House Love.

Making A Concrete Coffee Table Top published first on https://aireloomreview.tumblr.com/

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statusreview · 6 years

Text

Making A Concrete Coffee Table Top

Hey, good news! I finally have a place to put my feet up in the beach house living room. Or, as Sherry would state this good news: we finally have a coffee table!

light fixture / ceiling medallion / similar rug / similar sofa / similar curtains / curtain rods

Making The Wood Coffee Table Top

Using my circular saw outside, I trimmed off the edges to get an octagon that perfectly fit the top of our table base. No overhang. Yet.

It made the wood top slightly larger than the base, giving it a nice overhang

It made the wood top look twice as thick as it really is, without adding much more weight to it

It helped keep the top in place by making it almost like a snug shoebox top. I still screwed it to the base from underneath just to be safe.

Applying The Concrete Finish

Sealing The Concrete

light / ceiling medallion / similar rug / similar curtains / curtain rods / TV stand / similar chair

The white top breaks up the darker rug and couch nicely, and also helps tie together some of the other bright white accents like the bookshelf and the curtains.

bookcase / similar pink pillow / similar blue pillow / white faux wood window blinds

Also! If you have any where-did-you-get-that questions about the beach house (or paint color questions, which we also get a lot) this page has all the answers for you.

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post Making A Concrete Coffee Table Top appeared first on Young House Love.

Making A Concrete Coffee Table Top published first on https://ssmattress.tumblr.com/

0 notes