#seriously who went and invented body hair and made it that fucking cool

[craycraybluejay]

Thick and surprisingly dense anime-boy white tummy hair

#i want to post pics so bad but that's a terrible idea #i'm fascinated with human hair and skin and stuff #sorry for being obsessed with myself it will happen again #hair is fluffy and somewhat sticky with protein fibre #what's my natural hair colour? I'll let you know when my body decides. #i swear im not snow white all over i do not have albinism im just like a mary sue anime character with color changing everything and magic #magic powers #autosexual #tbh i love tummy hair yall should show me tummy hair its so hot and cute and interesting #and in general im fascinated with body hair patterns #the way the colour is different in different places and the thickness and density and how it catches light and how its textured differently #body hair my beloved #seriously who went and invented body hair and made it that fucking cool #wanna bathe someone and observe their muscles and hair and skin + fat movement and #is my fixation sciency or horny? both? idk

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tomholland #Tom Holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x you #sam holland

[makeste]

What are your favorite hero names?

oh man there are so many. I had to limit myself to a top twenty, and even that was rough. anyway so first off, a few runner ups because I couldn’t go without mentioning these:

Vlad King - to be clear, this isn’t actually one of my top hero names. but I’m mentioning it here because back when I was first reading the series, one of the fan scanlations -- either Fallen Angels or Mangastream, I forget which -- had originally translated his hero name as Brad King. which, to be frank, would have been one of the greatest hero names of ALL TIME. you can’t imagine my disappointment when I finally learned the truth. it still haunts me to this day.

Jack Mantis - this is Kamakiri (a.k.a. the guy from class 1-B who can grow knives out of his body)’s hero name. my question is, why the Jack. the mantis part, I get! that’s fairly obvious! but the “Jack” is forever a mystery to me. it just adds this little layer of intrigue.

Mr. Brave - this guy is one of the few good things to come from the Basement arc. don’t get me wrong, he is completely useless. but his name? absolutely legendary. this guy, with his power of ripping his own hair out and turning it into a sword (yes that’s his quirk), an ability that could be easily duplicated or bested by literally any jackass who just went out and bought their own damn sword, really thought to himself, “I am going to be the BEST MCFUCKING HERO THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN. I AM GOING TO NAME MYSELF... MISTER BRAVE.” and they let him, you guys. they let him.

anyway so now for the top twenty!

20. Can’t Stop Twinkling - this isn’t a name so much as it is poetry in three words. I still cannot believe that Aoyama went up to Midnight with a hero name that sounds more like the world’s greatest Dear Abby letter, and she actually let him keep it. I’m not 100% clear on how this all works, but I like to think this means that Aoyama’s fellow heroes have an actual legal obligation to call him this in battle. I don’t think we as a fandom and as a people really take enough time out of our lives to stop and be grateful for Aoyama’s existence.

19. Uravity - it’s a pun!! it’s so cute and I love it!! and it’s such a perfect name in that it just instantly sums up and defines her whole brand, bringing to mind both Ochako the person and Zero Gravity the quirk. honestly she is one of only a few kids whose hero name I never space out on. with a lot of the others I usually have to pause for a sec and be like “wait, what was their name again?” but never Ochako.

18. Present Mic - this would make a really great band name honestly. I just like it. I’m pretty sure Horikoshi was going for “present” as in the verb meaning “to perform”, like in “presentation”, but to tell the truth I always pronounce it like “present” as in “gift” or “the present time”, which doesn’t make any sense at all, but IT’S JUST WHAT MY BRAIN DECIDED TO DO. anyway.

17. Tsukuyomi - I know this name has its origins in Japanese mythology, but to be completely honest I’ve always just associated it with Itachi’s infamous genjutsu attack from Naruto. I just think it’s the gothest thing ever and absolutely perfect for Tokoyami lol.

16. All Might - there’s just something about this name that kind of makes me just want to pump my fists and go “YEAH!!” I really like the use of “might” as a noun rather than “mighty” as an adjective like you see in so many classic superhero names. it’s just so much cooler somehow. this name really does conjure up the image of the strongest guy in the universe.

15. Midnight - honestly I’m almost mad that this wound up being a hero name, because it would have made a perfect villain name. it’s dark and mysterious and sexy. it’s no wonder why Midnight chose it lol. anyway so my girl is a bit kinky, nothing wrong with that, and it’s also a perfect name for someone whose quirk puts other people to sleep. it’s just such spot-on branding, I love it.

14. Ingenium - fun fact, I had no idea what this meant when I first came across it because I don’t speak Latin! apparently it means “genius” or “talent.” which is a very good meaning for a hero name! but honestly the real reason I love it so much is because it’s Iida’s tribute to his brother, and I am just such a sucker for that kind of shit. damn you Iida siblings. quit giving me all these feels.

13. Shouto – yes, seriously. I know a lot of people hate this name, and it’s always getting flak for being bland and uncreative. but I honestly think it’s a perfect name for Shouto. firstly because Shouto himself is very much the opposite of flashy in a lot of ways. he’s not particularly animated or attention-seeking; he is a very calm, sort of still-waters-run-deep person, and I think the lack of a snappy brand name fits that personality. I’m even more delighted that it hasn’t remotely curbed his popularity at all (at this point I think the only kid hero with more in-universe fans out there is Momo, and even then it’s probably a close thing), and I think a big part of that is that people are drawn to his unpretentious nature, especially in comparison to a lot of the other heroes out there. but most of all, I like the name because of the simple yet powerful way it serves as a declaration that he is his own person. he’s not his father, and he’s more than just a Todoroki. he is himself; he is Shouto. anyway so yeah, to me this is a fantastic name with so much depth and meaning.

12. Battle Fist - this is Kendou’s hero name AND IT’S PERFECT. like, holy shit. what should we call the girl who goes around punching bad guys around all day with her giant hands. how about BATTLE FIST. there really isn’t much more to say about this one, honestly. its greatness speaks for itself.

11. Vantablack - imagine being such an enormous douchebag that word of your douchey exploits made it all the way over to some guy in Japan who spends 95% of his waking hours writing a manga and has almost no free time. fun fact, although Anish Kapoor is the only one licensed to use the color Vantablack, the name Vantablack is still owned by Surrey NanoSystems (a.k.a. the guys who actually invented it), and so I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who decide whether or not someone else gets to use it. I wonder if Kapoor is pissed about his color being referenced in a popular shounen manga. anyways, all of that speculation aside, it really is the perfect name for someone with Kuroiro’s quirk.

10. Endeavor - look, say what you will about Endeavor the person (although I’m personally a big fan of the way his redemption arc is being done and think he’s a fascinating character, albeit a very flawed one), but there’s no denying that Endeavor is a badass name. but what’s really great about it is how it so perfectly captures the admirable part of Endeavor, the one thing about him that’s actually worth praising. he never gives up. he’s always pushing, striving, struggling forward no matter how hopeless it seems. and that’s a worthy trait, and it says something about him that this is what he chose for his hero name. a name that has nothing to do with fire, nothing to do with his quirk, nothing even to do with his goal of becoming #1. it’s simply a name that means to make an effort; to try and achieve something. and I like that.

9. Sugarman - this IMO is easily the most overlooked and severely underrated hero name in the series. it’s a hidden gem. everyone always forgets about Satou just because his power of being a Strong Punching Guy doesn’t particularly stand out in a manga chock full of strong punching guys. but he is a badass and a great character, and honestly “eating candy makes me super strong” is possibly the single greatest quirk in the history of time and I am jealous. anyway, so this is a really straightforward name, but it’s really smooth and catchy somehow and so it’s one of my favorites.

8. Gale Force - this is Inasa’s hero name! it’s another one which is criminally underrated, much like Inasa himself. airbender powers are just so badass you guys. wind is so badass. this name is all hurricaney and tempesty and super cool and powerful-sounding. this is one of those names that I’m honestly surprised wasn’t already a mainstream superhero name. Marvel was all “nah, we’ll just go with ‘Storm’”, like come on you guys where is the creativity.

7. Red Riot - this name is a fucking grand slam. it’s alliterative! it’s catchy! it’s got the word “riot” in it! it’s an absolutely perfect name for a passionate guy whose quirk lends itself towards good old fashioned brawlin’ and head bashing. the fact that it’s got additional meaning as a tribute towards Kiri’s own personal hero is just the icing on the cake. this is another name that Marvel probably legit wishes they had thought of first. it’s easily the best hero name out of everyone in class 1-A imo.

6. Sir Nighteye - hilariously for the longest time it was not confirmed whether or not Nighteye actually had a real name (he does! but I’ve forgotten it lol), and so there was this lingering question, absurd as it was, of whether or not Nighteye’s parents, whoever they are, were descendants of some proud Nighteye clan, and whether they had really, actually named their child “Sir.” anyways though, I love this name. it’s super cool and mysterious and perfect for someone with future-seeing powers, and the “Sir” just makes even awesomer because it implies that the Queen really liked him or something.

5. Mt. Lady - this name is a stroke of genius. supersize-me powers are a dime a dozen, but the characters always have names like Giant Man or Giganta or Goliath. as far as I know, no other superhero characters have ever thought to name themselves after mountains, let alone to name themselves as if they WERE a mountain. like, she isn’t “mountain lady”; she’s “MOUNT Lady”, as if she were an actual tectonic peak. it really bothers me that I can’t adequately describe in words why I love this so much. I just do!! I think she should get an award.

4. Suneater - Tamaki is out here proving to everyone that your hero name doesn’t need to have jack shit fuckall to do with your actual quirk in order to be completely badass and iconic. sometimes I wonder what Tamaki does when people ask him “out of curiosity, why did you pick that name?”, which someone surely must have done at some point. he probably turns beet red and tries to dissolve into the background. but anyway, the general public does not need to know the meaning of his hero name in order for it to have meaning; we know what the meaning is, and that it’s his way of saying “I believe in myself because my friend believes in me”, and honestly that’s all that matters. I am still of the opinion that certain other people whose childhood friends held a lot of unwavering belief in and admiration towards them could do worse than going down this same hero name route, but we will see! anyways Suneater deserves all your respect.

3. Best Jeanist - I had so much love for this name from the start, and then I found out it was a real, actual award. for people who make good jeans, or are good at wearing jeans, or something. it’s run by the Japan Jeans Council, which is also a real and actual thing. but anyway, despite it not being as wholly original of a name as I thought, it’s still iconic, and I love that he went with something that was recognizable while still fitting his quirk, and which has the added implication that he is the motherfucking best, because he is. also, given that he probably chose this name while he was still in school, and that only public figures generally seem to be eligible for the award, this implies that he chose the name Best Jeanist first, and then went on to win the actual award eight years running. presumably because the JJC got very flustered and were all, “IT’S LITERALLY HIS NAME... WE HAVE TO GIVE IT TO HIM... WE HAVE TO”, and so they did. anyway so that was a goddamn power move on his part.

2. Gang Orca - first of all, if you are an orca man, then naming yourself after orcas is a pretty apt thing to do and I have to respect that. but then along comes the “gang” part, out of absolutely NOWHERE, and it absolutely SMASHES. like, this name comes up to you and it slaps you in the face. GANG ORCA. HE’S A BIG AGGRESSIVE DOLPHIN MAN AND HE’S NOT HERE TO FUCK AROUND. IS HE ACTUALLY IN A GANG?? WE DON’T KNOW. BUT HERE HE IS, READY TO YEET YOUR DELINQUENTS AND HUNT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING SEALS. this name fucks so hard it came within inches of the number one spot. he is a ruffian and a champ.

1. Eraserhead - last but not least, the guy who DIDN’T EVEN PICK HIS OWN NAME. his best friend had to do it for him, and out of love, came up with the SINGLE BEST HERO ALIAS IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND. first of all, this name sounds like a very funky and electronicy Thom Yorke song. second, it conjures up the image of a man with a big no. 2 pencil head, which could not possibly be further from the truth. it’s just so whiplashy in the best way possible. third, the very existence of this name is seriously a goddamn miracle. he could have been “Power-Stopping Man.” or “Sleeping Bag Man.” or “Scruffy Hero: Tired Man.” or just “Shouta”, but unlike Shouto there wouldn’t have been any actual meaning to it; it would have simply been a case of him not giving the slightest of fucks about coming up with a real name. but rather than any of these, thanks to the power of friendship we were blessed with the greatest hero name in recorded memory. this is one of the few kindnesses fate has ever bestowed upon Aizawa Shouta in his tragic, exhausting life, and I for one am eternally grateful.

anyway so that’s my list! sorry if I left out anyone’s favorites! but I think all of these are deserving of love. also if you want to see the single best thing Japan has ever come up with, please go visit best-jeans.com. they even have an instagram lulz.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bnha top ten #bnha rankings #aizawa shouta #gang orca #best jeanist #amajiki tamaki #mt. lady #lots of other people #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #lol you guys I had two 'what are your favorite...' asks and wrote this one up first #and then went and posted it under THE WRONG ASK lmao #so I had to go and delete it #I'm so sorry to the person who asked me about favorite quirks #I did screencap the ask and I will do that one next

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 12

Chapter Summary: Jensen takes the reader out on an official date, and the two of them get to know each other a little better.

Word Count: 3700 (haha)

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: It’s fluffy, it’s funny, it’s real. Jensen out here ruining all other men in the span of just a few hours. Hope it lives up to your expectations. As always, I love hearing your reactions, so don’t hold back. xo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out more work by yours truly at Alexandra’s Library!

The sun had set a long time ago, before they were even off the set. The snow had begun not long after. It was piling up on the sidewalks and the roads. She had no idea the plans that Jensen had for her tonight. The two of them were cordial at work, but Jensen was obviously avoiding being alone with her. The only time he spoke to her away from other people was at lunch today, telling her to be ready by nine. She was rifling through her closet now, trying to find something to wear. It had to be cute but also practical for the Vancouver weather. 

Her hair was still wet from the shower she had taken, and she had only slipped on a bra and panties. She was standing in her closet, a robe over her shoulders when Jared knocked on her door. 

“Come in.” She called as she tied the robe around her waist. 

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know I’m heading out to Carl’s to play some poker.” Jared smiled warmly at her. 

“Oh, okay, have a good night.” She didn’t bother letting him know that she was heading out too. All day she had been trying to come up with an excuse as to where she was headed. Her only friends here were on the cast or crew and that could easily get her caught if she told him she was with them. This, on the other hand, was perfect. She could slip out after him and if she got home after him too, she would come up with some lie then. 

“Love ya, smalls.”

“Love you too, moose. Now go.” She shooed him out of her room, Jared laughed the whole way to the front door. She finally made a choice for her clothes and laid them out on her bed as she finished her hair and reapplied her makeup. It was nearing eight thirty when she texted Jensen asking him if he wanted her to meet him at his place. His response was cryptic, to say the least, only stating that he would get back to her. So, she simply finished getting ready. She was in the kitchen putting her belongings into her purse when there was a knock on the door. 

Tentatively, she went and pulled it open, revealing Jensen standing there. He looked disgustingly adorable. Seriously, she thought to herself, no grown man should be that cute. He had on a thick wool coat, one that looked as though it probably cost him a decent chunk of change. He was wearing gloves and a matching scarf. Honestly, he looked like he stepped out of a hallmark Christmas movie. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” It was all she could come up with to say. Well, besides ‘fuck me’, but that seemed a little less appropriate.

“What?” His eyebrows scrunched together, his smile faltering as he looked over her shoulder and into the apartment. “Jared’s not still here is he?” His voice dropped as he said Jared’s name. 

“No, he left for some poker game.” She explained. “Wait, how did you know he wasn’t going to be here?” She stepped back and let Jensen into the apartment. He turned back to her, a huge grin on his face. 

“I may have hinted to Carl that he should host a game this weekend. And I may have not felt well enough to go tonight.” His tongue rolled against his upper lip as he waited for her response. She eyed him skeptically, mulling over his inventiveness. 

“Nice tactic, Ackles.” She finally smiled at him. “Let me grab my coat.” She ran and slipped on the heavy material. She topped it off with a hat and gloves and the two of them were out the door. Jensen kept a small distance between them as he walked her to his waiting Mercedes. He pulled open the passenger door and let her in before running to the other side and hoping in.

“Okay, so are you going to finally tell me where we are going?” She asked him as he pulled onto the road. 

“Come on, just enjoy the ride. We will be there soon.” He turned the heat up in the car a little, a smile on his face. His teeth shone in the light from the street lamps as they passed under them. 

“Fine, keep your stupid secrets.” She mocked anger, crossing her arms over her chest and focusing her gaze out the windshield. Jensen couldn’t help but laugh at her. He also couldn’t help but think about how cute she looked with her bottom lip sticking out like that. That’s not to say he didn’t think she always looked cute. She did always look cute. 

Jensen had kept his promise. It took them less than fifteen minutes to get to their destination. The parking lot was empty as far as she could tell when they pulled in, only heightening her curiosity. She could tell there was a wide open space on the other side of a small shack that sat on the far end. As they got closer, she noticed only one other car in the lot. 

Jensen hopped out of the car and came to open her door. “You aren’t going to kill me are you?” She mused as she got out of the car. 

“Yeah, you wish.” Jensen took her hand, entwining their fingers and guiding her towards the shack. 

“I do. You are too perfect, which means you are destined to have some sort of flaw.” She nudged him. 

“I’m sure you’ll find some eventually.” He promised as the lights outside the shack flickered on. The sign above the glass windows simply read Roy’s, with no other indication as to where they were. She noticed a guy standing on the other side of the glass, looking their way. 

“Ackles! Good to see you again buddy! This the lucky lady?” He turned his attention to her, causing her to blush. 

“Hey Roy, yes this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Roy.” Jensen introduced the two. Roy extended his hand to Y/n, who shook it graciously. 

“What size shoe you wear, sweetheart?” Roy asked her. She answered him, slightly confused until he came back with a pair of ice skates. She was beginning to understand now. Roy handed a pair to Jensen too and the two of them sat on the bench to their left to put them on. 

“Alright Roy, hit the lights!” Jensen called as he helped her to her feet. The sight before her nearly took her breath away. The rink was a decent size, but not massive. Poles on the perimeter of the rink had fairy lights wrapped around their height and strings of them connecting the tops of every pole. It cast a beautiful warm glow across the ice. As the lights warmed up, soft music began to drift from speakers somewhere in the distance. 

“Wow,” The word fell from her without thought as Jensen pulled her onto the ice. She was a little wobbly at first, since it had been years since she had been out on the ice, letting him guide her with both his hands. “I can’t believe you did this.” 

“You like it?” He was smiling, but she still noticed the slight panic in his voice. He wanted to make sure she was enjoying herself.

“I love it.” Her nose began to burn as tears welled in the corner of her eyes. “I haven’t been ice skating in years. We… we used to do it every year as a family.” The tears spilled gently down her cheek. At this point, she didn’t care either. She didn’t mind that Jensen would see her crying, because it was Jensen, the only person she realized she didn’t care if they saw her cry. Jensen was smiling softly now, giving her a knowing nod. “Ah, but you already knew that.” 

“I did, Jared used to tell me about it every year during filming of the earlier seasons. He misses you guys a lot when we are filming. He loves having you up here, you know that right? I think he is just bad at expressing that.” Jensen continued to pull her in circles around the rink. Her body quickly remembered how to work her way across the ice, and the two settled into a better rhythm. 

“You know you aren’t supposed to make a girl cry on the first date right?” She wiped away more tears from her cheek, careful not to smudge her makeup. 

“How was I supposed to know you would cry, you never cry?” Jensen spun in front of her, skating backwards as he eyed her. 

“Are you kidding me? I cry all the fucking time, it’s just never in front of other people.” She admitted. 

“Should I feel honored by that then?” Jensen asked, reaching out for her as she wobbled. She balanced herself against his forearms, allowing him to just pull her along again. When she didn’t answer, he smiled to himself. He knew she wouldn’t admit that she felt safe around him, at least not yet. Though, he couldn’t be sure if she realized it herself yet. 

Jensen continued to pull her along the rink, the soft music filling the comfortable silence. Jensen let go of her then, making a show of his skills. He was spinning in circles, and gliding effortlessly around her. He was bordering on figure skating at this point as he skating backwards, putting a good distance between the two as he sped up. The last song faded into a new one, and she recognized the melody easily. She was biting her tongue as she tried not to laugh. Jensen could see her shoulders shaking from where he was. 

“What the hell is so funny?” He asked, slowing his movement but not stopping completely.

“Um,” She chuckled. “It’s just, this song always makes me think of Blades of Glory and you were over there trying to be cool and showing off. It was just too much.” She nearly snorted as she fought not to fully laugh in his face. 

“That is a classic.” Jensen mused, coming back to her, taking her hand and pulling her into him. He spun her around, one hand is his own, the other on the small of her back. “I don’t want to close my eyes!” He screamed off note, eliciting more laughter from her. “I don’t wanna fall asleep cause I’d miss you babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing!” 

“You are incorrigible.” She shook her head, a huge smile on her face. Jensen dipped into her and brushed his nose against hers, kissing her softly.

“Yeah, but you love it.” Jensen continued to spin her around as the song faded out. He let go of her hand and brought his gloved fingers to brush along her cheekbone. “Wanna call it, it’s getting cold.” He noted, taking in the pink adorning the tip of her nose and apples of her cheeks. 

“Sounds good.” Jensen pulled himself from her and guided her back to the edge of the rink by the shack. Jensen helped her to the bench and took off her skates for her. As they finished putting their shoes back on, Roy appeared, two paper cups in hand. 

“For the lovely couple.” He handed them each a cup and retreated with a goodnight. Jensen thanked him again. Wrapping both hands around the cup, she let the heat radiate through to the bone. She breathed in the steam coming through the lid, the spices making her mouth water. 

“Apple cider? You really did your research.” She admired his ambition, taking a sip of the delicious warm beverage. 

“Nah, I just pay attention.” He held out his hand and the two went back to the car. He let her in the passenger side before getting behind the wheel. 

“Oh, so what else have you been paying attention to?” Genuine curiosity had gotten the better of her. She wasn’t sure if she should feel flattered or self conscious. 

“Well, you always have a coffee with you every morning. Milk and vanilla flavor or when you are in a particularly good mood, you try the seasonal flavors like pumpkin or peppermint. Or maybe it’s the switch up in the coffee that puts you in a good mood, I haven’t figured that out. I’ve also noticed that you don’t eat beef or pork, the reason for which I have yet to decipher. And you love to sing, whether its lip synching, singing under your breath, or belting it out when you think no one is listening.” His declaration was far from what she had expected. She had been paying attention to him too, but she never imagined he had noticed so much of her. 

“Oh, the good mood is definitely because of the coffee, you have yet to see me without coffee. And I don’t eat beef or pork because I’ve never really liked the taste. Also, it’s healthier and better for the environment.” She explained. “What self respecting Texan does not like some good barbecue?” He had a look of mock horror on his face as he watched out the windshield. 

“Shut up, you can barbecue chicken too idiot.” 

“Oh, that’s so not the same and you know it.” He argued.

Y/n shrugged at him. “I don’t know that, ‘cause I don’t eat it. Is that a deal breaker for you?”

“Let me think about it.” Her jaw dropped, even though she should have been expecting a smart ass comment like that one. 

“You are so lucky you are driving right now.” She growled, only eliciting a laugh from Jensen. 

Jensen pulled his car into the parking garage for his apartment building, and brought her up to his apartment. The scent hit her nose as soon as he pushed open the door. The garlic and rosemary encompassed the whole apartment and made her mouth water. 

“Let me take your coat.” Jensen helped her out of her coat and hung it up along with his own. She followed Jensen into his kitchen. There were candles lit on the set dining room table. There was some dish sitting there too, waiting to be served. “White wine or red?” Jensen asked her as he took two bottles from the cabinet. 

“Uh, guess.” She challenged him. “You’ve been paying such close attention, I wanna see if you can guess correctly?” She sat down at the table as he motioned for her to do so. He licked his lips as he eyed her, but she wouldn’t give an inch. 

“Okay, well, you like whiskey on the rocks when you are down, besides that you also almost always order some type of cocktail. Come to think of it, I’ve never actually seen you drink wine.” She shook her head as he walked through his thought process. “White, definitely white.” He stood firm in his decision. 

“Wow, you are good, how do you do that? Seriously it should be like... a super power, or at least you could go on America’s Got Talent.” She really was surprised how effortlessly he seemed to figure things out like he did. 

“You’re funny.” He came over with the glasses he had poured and sat down next to her. 

“I’m serious, it’s impressive.” She shoved his shoulder and took a drink of the wine. It wasn’t her favorite, wine never was, but it wasn’t disgusting, she could drink it. The only time she ever chose wine was if she was on a date. 

“Well, I hope my cooking skills are just as impressive.” He cut into the dish and plated some for her and himself. Then he handed her a piece of garlic bread to go with it. 

“Wait, you cooked this? How did you pull that off?” The food was still steaming, but they had been gone for at least two hours. Not to mention the lit candles when they came in. 

“I put it together before I left and had someone watch it while it cooked.” 

“Resourceful.” She muttered as she took her first bite. She fought back a groan, her eyes rolling in her skull. “Alright, that’s it, am I being punk’d? You are officially great at everything.” 

“It’s good?” His eyes lit up as he watched her reaction. 

“It’s sinful.” She affirmed. Jensen bit back his inappropriate comment, choosing to just accept her compliment. 

“I’m glad.” Jensen dug into his own plate. The two of them falling into a comfortable silence as they ate. Her plate was nearly empty when she spoke up. 

“Alright, so since you seem to know so much about me, I want to know about you.”

Jensen took a sip of wine, mulling over his answer. “Well, I have an older brother and younger sister. I’m from Dallas-“

“Come on, that’s all public knowledge. Tell me something I can’t look up on the internet.” She interrupted him. He was going to have to think hard too, because there was a lot out there for her to find. 

“Okay, so everybody knows about me doing West Side Story in high school. But what most don’t know is, I was actually on the cheer team.” His words were almost a whisper as he admitted to her, like he thought someone else may be listening in. 

“Uh, yeah. I already knew that.”

“What?”

“Jensen, your high jump at conventions is like near perfect form. Okay, you don’t learn that playing football. Hell, it’s better than mine.” She said matter of fact. 

“Wait, you were a cheerleader?” He sat back. 

“Is that so surprising?” 

“It is. I would have never pegged you as a cheerleader.” He shook his head, his playful grin returning to his face. 

“It was only senior year. And I only did it to piss off the popular girl that had tormented me since sixth grade.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We actually ended up becoming good friends. Who knew?” 

Jensen laughed out loud. Y/n was taken aback, not expecting his reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I could’ve guessed that. You make friends with everybody.”

“No, I perfectly curate my personality to individuals so that I can avoid confrontation at all costs. It’s different.” She was mostly joking, but her face conveyed a certain degree of seriousness. 

“Is that what you’re doing here?” Jensen leaned into the table and she mirrored his movements. His voice lowered as he questioned her. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She tsked. He nodded his head in agreement as he returned to finish the dinner on his plate. 

When both of their plates were clean, Jensen stood and cleared the table. She watched him move around his kitchen, enjoying him relaxed and in his element. He always seemed to move so effortlessly and with more grace than you would expect from a grown man. It was mesmerizing. 

“Tonight was amazing. You really know what you are doing, Ackles.” She stood and followed him into the kitchen, glass of wine in hand. She sauntered up next to him where he was rinsing off the plates in the sink, fitting her body close to his.

“I’m glad you had a good time.” He turned and glanced down at her, shutting off the water and drying his hand on a towel. “Does this mean I get to take you out a second time” He turned his body fully towards her, placing his hands on her waist. She put down her glass and gripped his biceps.

“I don’t know, haven’t decided yet.” She looked off in the distance, a mock look of thought on her features. 

“Maybe I can convince you. Or at the very least,” He leaned into her, pulling her body flush against his own. “Remind you.” Jensen bypassed her lips, going straight for that spot on her neck that he remembered drove her wild. She all but melted underneath his touch, the feel of his warm mouth against her pulse pooling in her belly. He set something off inside her that she didn’t quite understand, this feeling that no other man had been able to pull from her. It was need and longing and something else she couldn’t place. 

“Jay,” she mewled, bringing his mouth up to hers. She wanted to taste him, to feel his tongue in her mouth. Her body opened up to him, welcoming him to take over every sensation she had. As his hands came up to her face, she dropped hers to the waistband of his jeans, and began to tug his buttoned down free. 

“Hey, wait.” Jensen pulled away from her and gripped her wrists to halt her movements. She whimpered at the loss of his heat. 

“What’s wrong?” Her eyes flickered lazily back up to his. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want this to be just about sex.” She was confused by his declaration, not sure where else he had been heading a moment ago. 

“You’re joking?” She dropped her arms from his grasp.

“No, I’m not.” He leaned against the sink next to them, watching her closely. 

“Don’t you think that may be a little redundant here?” She really could not tell if he was serious. He was absolutely the first man she had ever met that turned down sex. To call him an enigma was slowly becoming an understatement. 

“I don’t. Y/n, I think considering the consequences, that we should take this a little slower. We hit it right out of the park on the first pitch, and I don’t want to fly to close to the sun here.” He admitted. 

She scanned his soft features as he smiled warmly at her. “That was single handedly the weirdest analogy I have ever heard. Who says shit like that in real life?” Jensen laughed with her, the apprehension he had been feeling dissipating. “But you’re not wrong. One step at a time?” Jensen nodded at her offering, leaning in to kiss her cheek softly. 

“You want help cleaning up?” She offered, it was the least she could do after the evening he had treated her to. 

“I would love that.”

Part 13

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @casualfestivaltrashpainter​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @frackinawesomeninja​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfic​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​

Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1​ @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x plus sized!reader #jensen ackles x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus sized!reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles smut #supernatural #supernatural rpf #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fic #spn rpf #rpf #reader insert #jensen ackles x sister!padalecki #jared padalecki x sister!reader #sister!reader #alex writes #mine #happiness begins

[jaehyunspeachparty]

The first kiss (a)

It was the last night you would be here. Here with the tour. Here with Jaehyun. You are still trying to avoid him, but he was looking for you. It was like a game between you two. On the one hand, you wanted to be with him, but on the other hand, you couldn't. You had spent a lot of time with Doyoung for the last days. You could talk about a lot, his intellect was great and there was hardly a topic you couldn't talk about.

In the evening there was a small celebration because the tour in America and Europe was over and the team split up. That's why the penthouse on the top floor of the hotel - where you were staying - was rented and there was a small party. You knew days ago that this event was taking place and you had already bought a dress in Paris. When you stood in front of the mirror and wear it for the first time, you weren't sure if it was too daring. You stroke your hips and check your body. The dress was black and tight. It had spaghetti straps and was therefore extremely thin. The neckline went in in a subtle V shape and the tight cut made your breasts stand out. A gold chain with a round pendant with your zodiac sign on it led into your neckline and you didn't know why you emphasize your breasts so much. Who did you want to impress with it? You slip in your high heels and pull your dress up. It was short, very short. You've worn clothes like this many times, but somehow you were still nervous. Are you exaggerating? Did it look too wanted? You wished you had a friend here now. You needed an honest opinion. But then it came to your mind, Doyoung could help you. You take your phone and dial his number. It wasn't long before you heard his voice. "Y/N." He sounded joyful. "Hey, Doyoung. Are you already at the party?" While you're on the phone, you keep looking in the mirror and see how far your dress went. "No, I would go now. Should I pick you up?" That was perfect, so you wouldn't have to go up alone. "Yes, please." You were glad that after the whole thing with Jaehyun, you still found a good friend. "I will soon be there." You hang up and pack your bag quickly, but it didn't take 10 minutes for Doyoung to stand in front of your hotel room. You open the door and when Doyoung saw you, he froze. "Is that too much?" You ask him and turn in a circle. Doyoung lost his voice and he couldn't make a sound. "I can go change it." You were really unsure and you didn't know if it was a good sign. But Doyoung started laughing uncertainly and shook his head. "No, no. Everything looks good." Doyoung looked at you and you pull your dress back in place again. "Hmm well, I have nothing else anyway. Let's go." You smile and the two of you leave the room. Suddenly there was a strange silence between you two. You didn't quite know how to react. Doyoung looked kind of nervous and you couldn't interpret why. You try to talk, but he didn't dare to look at you. The silence was so uncomfortable, and when the ringing of the elevator indicated that you were now in the penthouse, you were somehow relieved. You will immediately hear the sound of music and the normal conversation level. You look around you and try to discover familiar faces. Doyoung was already gone and you were somehow lost. That's exactly what you wanted to avoid. You decide to do what you do best; drink martinis. That's why you look at the bar and go straight to it. The bartender smiled when he saw you and you immediately order your favorite cocktail. When it was served to you, you were so happy and took a long sip. "Have you eaten enough?" You hear a familiar voice next to you. Jaehyun looked simple. His hair hung over his forehead, but was at the center parted, he was wearing a white shirt where the first two buttons were open and he was wearing black pants. Simple. It was good. He was incredibly good looking today. "Yes." You answered curtly and it was a lie. In order for you to look good in the dress, you had hardly eaten anything and fed yourself almost exclusively with coffee. "You look really incredible tonight." His voice suddenly became so quiet, but at the same time, it aroused you. You look at him and you soften again. "You also." Your eyes were big and your heart grew heavy. Jung Jaehyun, what was he doing to you? He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. And his smile infected you. "Y/N, I have to ..:" The words were difficult for him, but then he was interrupted. "No, we cannot ask her, we already know that she has a bad taste." Haechan rolled his eyes and came to you, followed by Taeil and Doyoung. "I mean she said Doyoung was the best looking and we all know I’m the most handsome one." Haechan clinked his eyelashes and stroked his face. "Please? What is it about?" You knew he was talking about you and you wanted to know the context. "Who has the better voice from us?" Taeil grinned and looked intently at you. You sigh and take a sip of your martini. "Guys, why do you always ask me questions like that?" You roll your eyes and put your glass down. "You all have unique voices, each in its own way." "Yes, but someone has to be better." Haechan grinned and it was like in America again. He's trying to lure something out of you, you couldn't see through him completely. He was clearly smarter than he acted. "Taeil has an incredible variety of voices, you think he can just sing everything. While Doyoung has his own voice color, but still hits every note. I think there is rarely anything like that." Doyoung smiled and finally looked back at you. But Haechan's eyes were on Jaehyun. But that was too much for you. You notice how Jaehyun's chest rose. Was he jealous again? You love his voice, it was always incredible to hear it. But it would hurt you to announce it. Having Jaehyun with you hurt you. "Excuse me." You turn to the side and turn away from the boys. At that moment it felt like you were having a stomach cramp. Why did it still hurt to see Jaehyun? Why did he drive you so crazy when he was just a crush? But suddenly you feel a hand on your upper arm. "Can we talk?" Jaehyun looked at you seriously and you didn't know how to react. One hand hung uncertain down and with the other, you clasped your elbow. "I don't know if that's a good idea." You sigh and don't know what to do with yourself. So far you have been able to avoid him, but you were overwhelmed by the fact that he asked you about the whole situation. "Please." His eyes were suddenly bigger than usual and he was tender ... softer at that moment. You put a strand of hair behind your ear and nod. Your heart started racing and you were the first to go ahead. Jaehyun was close behind you and he put his arm on your back. It felt good to feel his palm again. For some reason, you felt safe with him, even though you thought about him so bad. You just can't get out of your maze of feelings. You go to a part of the terrace that is a bit contorted. You look briefly over London, how everything shines. You enjoy the cool summer breeze and when you turn around you see him. He stood tall and soft before you as if he were the sweetest person in the world. "Can you explain to me what's going on?" He looks at you desperately and you didn't know what to say. It was all so unreal at that moment. "I only found out who you really are." You take a deep breath and try not to cry immediately. You didn't want him to see you weak. "Did I do anything to you? What do you mean?" He took a step towards you and you could see the sadness on his face. What was that? Are you maybe wrong about him? "You sleep around with idols. Cheat your girlfriend and live your fuckboy life." But there it was again, you were angry and hurt about it. You couldn't even look him in the eye when you told him this all. But then he suddenly grabbed your wrist and looked at you seriously. "And you believe that?" He didn't make a face and you were frozen. You didn't know what to say and you just feel his hand around your wrist. "I know what the others are saying about me. People like to gossip and some invent things about me. Yes, I made mistakes. But I don't walk around and fuck every idol. I know that people think this of me and some idols tell it to build up their reputation. But I'm actually pretty shy. I don't go out to people that easily. Especially I don't open up to people that easily. Y/N, please believe me." You look at him and you don't know what to say. He was still holding your wrist because he didn't want to let you go. “Jaehyun, I…” But before you could say more, Jaehyun pulls you to him and puts his hand gently on the back of your head. His face was suddenly so close and your heart was racing. And suddenly you feel his lips. They were delicate and soft and somehow a little bit sweet. In the beginning, you were so stiff and could hardly react, but then you give in. Your hands clung to his chest and you just feel his lips. While your tongue got involved in its own lovemaking, he pressed you closer to him. And at that moment you knew it, Jaehyun was not an simple and stupid crush. It was more, it meant all more to you. It felt like you had fasted for so long and now he was the first meal after a long trip. You love how his lips feel on yours, you love how he pulls you towards him, you love how much you want him. Your kiss lasted for an eternity and you wished that you could stay there forever. But when you detach from each other and you linger forehead to forehead, you remember what kind of situation you were in. "That's not fair." Your hands were clenched on his chest. Tears pooled in your eyes and you couldn't see him at the moment. "What is not fair?" He put his hands gently over your wrist and tried to make you feel good. "This here." You look up at him and detach your arms from his body. "I'm about to fall in love with you and you're just playing with me." You take a step back and couldn't believe you came into this situation. How could you get so far? "I'm not playing with you Y/N." Jaehyun tried to approach you again, but you blocked it. "Jaehyun, you have a girlfriend at home. And whether you love her or not. It's all just an illusion. I know people like you. I couldn't believe that I fell in love with a man who is in a relationship.” You could suppress it for a long time, but Jung Jaehyun had stolen your heart. "No, it's not like that. I ..." You didn't want to hear anymore. What were the perspectives of your relationship anyway? "Isn't it? Don't tell me that it can work between us. I live in New York, you in Seoul. We both have a lot to do. A relationship never makes sense." Jaehyun couldn’t deny that your words were true. He stared at you but he couldn't say anything. "I'm sorry. Goodbye Jung Jaehyun." You look him in the eyes again before you disappear and hope you never have to see him again…

About us masterlist

daddy jaehyun masterlist

#jaehyun #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #daddy jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenario #nct #nct 127 #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios

[gingerpeachtae]

Concentric [1]

masterlist

Words: 5.2k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: strangulation

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: OOF. I told ya’ll it would be up ASAP! Again, pls leave any love, advice, suggestions, etc! I hope you engoy :)

“Look, I’m just saying that there’s no way Frodo would have ever reached Mordor without Sam.” You waved your arms in frustration. “Hell, Shrek wouldn’t have gotten Fiona, both away from the castle and as a wife, if it weren’t for Donkey.”

You kicked at a stray pebble on the edge of the path. “Sidekicks are just so underappreciated.”

You were currently in a passionate rant, which often tended to be about some pretty random things Today’s lucky subject was the mistreatment of sidekicks, but it could have easily been the folklore of the Chupacabra or deciding which movie adaption was more cringeworthy: Percy Jackson or Twilight. Your best friend sighed as you both made your way through the campus arboretum.

“Only you would be so wound up about something like this Y/N.” He grinned.

It was a cool, crisp April morning. The sun was just beginning to emerge, creating an ethereal light across the horizon. Droplets of dew clung to the grass next to the worn-in sidewalk, and the trees were plump with their newly grown leaves that painted pockets of shade against the ground. You smiled to yourself as you admired the beauty. You hated waking up early but watching the world slowly come to life as you walked to class almost made it worth it. Key word: almost.

“Oh, but my dear Jimin.” You moved the smile to his direction, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Just wait until you’re the sidekick. Then you won’t be as eager to mock them.”

Your friend just shook his head at you and chuckled, the action rumbling throughout his compact, bulky frame. He grabbed your arm and tugged you onward toward the business building.

“Come on. We’re going to be late if you keep yapping about random shit all morning.”

Your heart began going crazy, beating at a rapid pace like it was a goddamn EDM song. You mentally scolded yourself and told it to sit down and shut up. Fuck. You hated yourself for it. Jimin’s been your best friend since you were 10 years old. Ever since punching his sweet face after he tried to scare you with a spider he found lurking around during recess. You knocked him on his ass, and when he didn’t run to the teacher to tattle, you helped him fabricate the poorly detailed story of how he slipped on the wet metal of the playground and banged his face. You and Jimin have been inseparable from that day forward. And you’ve been in love with him since you were 17. Unfortunately, you know the feeling isn’t mutual. This wasn’t some friends to lovers fanfic misunderstanding either. This was reality and sometimes reality just sucks like that. You’ve watched him flirt, kiss, and date his fair share of girls throughout your time together, and not one has he ever looked at you with any romantic inkling. Why would he? There he goes with his muscular and flexible as hell body. Seriously, the only thing this boy does more than eat and nap is put in time at the studio. Paired with dark hair that prefers to be dyed a vibrant orange, plump limps that beg to be kissed, a strong nose, a cutting jaw line, and oh my god his eyes. Dark brown with flecks of amber light. Like an animated tiger’s eye gemstone. Don’t even get yourself started on the way they squish close when he smiles or laughs hard. God, you swear nobody else has eyes even clo-

SMACK.

You ran straight into the glass door.

“Shit!” You rubbed your forehead painfully. “What the hell Jimin!? Why didn’t you hold the damn door open?”

All you got in response was a choking sound as the boy tried to reply but couldn’t because of the laughter shaking his body. It caused his eyes to do the damn squishy thing. You quickly looked away so that you wouldn’t stare in blatant awe.

“Damn and you call me clumsy. It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention,” he finally wheezed out as he doubled over from the laughter.

Asshole.

Geez that hurt. You thought while massaging your poor head.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m fine thanks for asking.” You rolled your eyes and started walking once more after safely passing through the doorway.

Four flights of stairs later and the two of you arrived outside of your 8 AM lecture. Ah yes, nothing quite like accounting at 8 in the freaking morning.

“Seriously, who invented 8 AM classes? Because I would really like to have a word with him for this terrible contribution to society,” you huff, “and I say him because there’s no way a woman would do this to society. Actually, I want to have a word with whoever talked me into taking a goddamn 8 AM!”

“Y/N…” Jimin hesitated. “That would be me.”

Of course.

“Also, why the actual fuck are we taking an accounting course?” you continued to whine. “We’re dance majors!”

After completing the awkward, squeezing, tip-toed walk through the classroom aisles to two seats next to each other, you collapsed into your respective chair.

“Because you and I are both minoring in entrepreneurship and it’s a required course.”

Raising an eyebrow at his smartass response you proceeded to poke his bicep.

“Well you and I are going to have a little chat later about your negative influences.”

“Oh, please Might Y/N, spare me from your wrath!”

You snorted in response, earning a stare from the chap sitting to your left. You retaliated with a glare, warning the bugger not to fuck with you this early.

“Whatever. But you definitely owe me some ice cream Slim Jim.”

Jimin winked before turning his attention back to the front of the class. Feeling your cheeks grow warm, you placed your face in your hands to hide the betraying blush. You inwardly groaned, reminding yourself that the semester was almost done. Just four more weeks and you can spend some time away from Jimin. Just four more weeks until he went on his annual trip to stay with some distant relative in the middle of nowhere with no reception. Maybe this year you could finally let go of your hopeless, unrequited love while he was gone.

Ugh. Ew. The thought made you roll your eyes at yourself. You were such a fucking sap.

“Ohhhhhhh my gosh.” You moaned as you licked the creamy deliciousness that trailed down the square indentations of the waffle cone.

After enduring the early class from hell, you and Jimin had separated ways for the rest of your classes for the day. Luckily, you didn’t have to withstand mindless lectures about debits and credits after 9:15.

“You are officially forgiven for making me take an 8 AM,” you informed Jimin. Although forgiven, you still side-eyed the cup which held his strawberry ice cream before continuing. “Except not getting a cone is a violation of ice cream law so…”

“Oh, come on! There is no such thing as ice cream law!” He threw his non-cup arm wide in defiance.

“There sure as fucking hell is! Thou shall never turn down ice cream and thou shall always choose a waffle cone. It’s first grade Slim Jim.”

“First I am disgusted you managed to throw in a SpongeBob reference. How do you always do that!? Second, I must simply agree to disagree. The cones get stale and leaky at the bottom. Plus, you get y/f/f ice cream, which is yucky, so I refuse to acknowledge your law.”

“Take that back! That’s like saying brownie edge pieces are better than the center pieces!”

“…But they are.”

All you could do was slowly turn and gape at your best friend in horror. It was quickly replaced with a scowl when he flicked your forehead.

Grumbling through your scowl, “Hey, so I need to hit the studio for a bit after this, but we’re still on for family dinner tonight right? I’m thinking of making that pulled pork mac and cheese you love.”

Jimin stiffened beside you and slowly let out a sigh, running a hand through his orange hair.

“Y/N, please don’t be mad, but I completely forgot about dinner and something else came up…” He awkwardly toyed with his ice cream.

“Seriously?” You weren’t mad. Just… disappointed. It was one of the last free nights you each had before finals and showcases started up. “You better not be cancelling on me for some girl you found at the bars last night.”

You murmured the last part in a low voice. Not like it wouldn’t have been the first time, though. He was constantly going out with girls he met, even if it sometimes meant leaving you behind. Not that you were salty about it. Or jealous. Nope. Not at all. But, you were his best friend, so it’s not like you could complain about it to him.

“No! No, it’s not a girl. I promise,” Jimin quickly retorted. “I just completely spaced on this project I have for K201. I have to meet up with my group to finish it, and tonight was the only night that worked with everyone.”

Well, at least it was a school excuse and not some bimbo. You thought as you popped the last bite of cone into your mouth.

Sweat dripped down your forehead and into your eyes. It left a pleasant satisfactory sting as your equally sweaty forearm rose to wipe it away. Dancing was hard, it was strenuous, but you relished in it. You loved feeling the music gliding across your body, inviting and encouraging your movement. The burn of your muscles. The stretch of your limbs. The bass in your chest. It was utterly euphoric. You had been in the studio for two hours already, but being the perfectionist you were, you kept telling yourself “one more time.” The first had been six times ago. After wiping away more sweat that fell down your face, you reached over to restart the song just. One. More. Time. Taking a deep breath, you walked back to your starting place as the ticks counted down to the start of the track.

Inhale. Exhale. Go.

After running through the routine three more times, you felt satisfied enough with the day’s progress. Breathing heavily and dripping sweat, you could not wait to take an unnecessarily long and hot shower. Yes, you were aware that cold water was much better for your body, especially after exercise, but cold water was evil. Even during the summer months, you couldn’t resist standing under scalding water for a good 30 minutes. At least you would rinse off with cold water for like 20 seconds at the end. That had to count for something, right?

But you didn’t feel like going home just yet. You didn’t want to open the fridge and see the ingredients you were originally going to cook up before Jimin threw a curve ball into the evening’s plans. As you thought of the places you could go instead of your single bedroom apartment, you realized that you hadn’t been to the state park just outside of the town in a few weeks. With Spring in full swing, it had to be breathtaking at the moment. Since you were already sweaty and gross, you figured being so for a little longer wouldn’t kill you as you grabbed your keys and turned off the studio light before walking out the door.

Twenty-seven minutes and a flash of your annual park pass later, you pulled into the first open spot you saw, which happened to be next to an ugly matte black Jeep Wrangler.

Geez, who paints their car matte and thinks it looks good? You ponder before whipping your eyes back to the vehicle.

Wait. Ugly matte black Jeep Wrangler?

You hope out of your car and slowly walk around to the Jeep. Positioning yourself beside the driver’s window, you peered through the tinted windows. There better not be a damn dreamcatcher…

...

“Slim Jim! I got you a present!” You excitedly hand over a small bag with unicorns adorning the side.

Jimin eagerly grabbed the gift, delighted with your choice of bag décor.

“I hope it’s a-”

“Dreamcatcher!” You interrupt singing as he removed the item from its magical paper prison.

“Um. Thanks Y/N, but you know I don’t really need this. I don’t get nightmares anymore,” he says as he lifts the delicate object higher to take a better look.

You punched him in the shoulder as he frowned at the white dreamcatcher in his hand.

“I wanted to get you something to hang from your rearview mirror that wasn’t so damn doom and gloom,” you explained as you gestured to his all black interior, “and it matches the one in my car! So, think of it as sort of a best friend necklace type thing.”

...

You hadn’t been sure if he would hang it up, but the next time you hoisted your y/h self into that black Jeep, it was proudly strung up above the dashboard. Where it still was as you currently looked through the window.

“Why the hell is Jimin here?”

You didn’t think he ever came here without you, because you basically had to drag him when you did. The guy loved the outdoors and every other park, but he had some weird aversion to this park in particular. Wouldn’t say why, though. You eventually just stopped asking when you were never given a straight answer. But, oh boy, were you going to be asking again today. With a groan of frustration and annoyance, you entered the hiking trail. Just wait until you find that boy, you were going to strangle him with your sweaty little hands.

You’d been walking for about thirty-five minutes before you found him. He wasn’t on the main trail, but on a side path that led to a small clearing. Not many people knew about it, but after you had stumbled upon it, you made sure to show it to Jimin the next you had dragged his ass out here.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“-Shit.” The man of the hour cut off in the middle of whatever he had been saying to himself when he heard you.

“What the hell Jimin!? You cancel on me, have the audacity to lie about why, and then I find you out here doing… doing what exactly?”

Marching across the clearing, you stopped a few yards away from him. You crossed your arms and cocked an eyebrow, just daring him to try and make up a crappy excuse. At least he had the decency to look scared shitless at your approach.

His eyes began darting all over the clearing. His hand nervously raked through his hair, but he stayed silent.

You’d had enough. “Are you really just going to stand there and not say anything?”

“Y/N. Please. Please just go home,” he begged, his eyes still darting. “It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe? I’m pretty sure tick season is over Jimin,” you scoffed. “Are you buying drugs or something? What’s going on with you?”

“I can’t explain. Just please go home,” Jimin continued to plead, “I don’t want you-”

His sentence was interrupted when a force suddenly seized your neck and thrust your body backwards, pinning it against a tree. The odd thing was that nothing had touched you.

“What the hell is this?” You managed to spit out to your friend, who was looking at you with wide, panicked eyes. Then the force around your neck

Began.

To.

Squeeze.

Out of the corner of your vision, you could see that Jimin was trying to reach you, but it seemed an unseen force held him at bay too. He kept shouting some gibberish that you couldn’t understand. Probably because you were currently getting, you know, choked to death.

Shit. Shit. Shit. It hit you that you were actually getting bloody choked, and not in the good way.

You tried gasping for breath, but the air was not reaching your lungs. Your head started spinning and darkness began to rim your vision, slowly invading more and more of your eyesight. Desperately, you attempted to rip away the force blocking your air. But when you brought your hands up to your throat, you registered a warm, solid substance. It felt like skin. Thoroughly freaked and near passing out, you continued trying to claw the force away, but it completely encompassed your throat and wasn’t budging. Oh my god. You were going to die because of a ghost. Hello? Welcome to death registration, what’s your cause of perishing? Casper the fucking Ghost.

Wait. Were those fingers? Your vision was almost entirely black by now. You could still faintly hear Jimin shouting over the thumping of your heart. If those were fingers, then there must be a hand, arm, and body, right? You released your grip on the supposed hand around your throat and instead reached out to find what it was attached to.

Fabric. More skin. Muscles. A man? You hope. Either way this should hurt like a bitch.

You were losing control over your body, but you weren’t done for yet. You were too much of a stubborn bitch for that. Kicking out with your leg, you located one of Casper’s appendages and sloppily found the other with another kick. Then, with what little energy you had left, you forced your right leg up as hard and high as you could manage. The sudden rush of air back into your lungs made you even more dizzy as whatever held you vanished. Collapsing to your knees, you coughed while trying to support yourself by gripping the tree trunk behind you. Suddenly, Jimin was kneeling beside you, repeatedly saying your name. You don’t know how he escaped his ghost, maybe a spiritual kick to the tender region too.

Caressing your hair, he murmured, “Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t feel okay,” was all you could mutter before your arms gave out and the world fell to black nothingness.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you cracked open your eyes and saw Jimin’s worried face looking down at you. Your body felt like it was lagging behind your head, like when you kept moving the joystick forward during a video game, but the character decided to go sideways instead.

“You’re okay Y/N,” he reassured you, “you just passed out briefly.

Oh.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, grunting as dirt and twigs scraped against them as you did so. It still seemed to be only the two of you within the clearing, but you knew something, someone was there. You could feel it. You know, beyond the whole thrown against a tree and strangled thing.

Gripping his arm, you looked your best friend dead in the eye. “Okay, you’re going to help me up, and then you’re going to explain to me what the hell just happened.”

After doing so, and hesitantly stepping away from you, he attempted to act nonchalant.

“You tripped on a tree root and hit your head.” He shrugged.

You stared at him because there was no way. That had to be bullshit. You decided to straight up say as much. A few seconds went by and neither of you said anything. Jimin suddenly cocked his head to the left and nodded. His hand reached out in the direction his apricot-colored head had tilted toward, and then something peculiar happened. A tiny, delicate flower petal appeared in his hand. It hadn’t floated in on the breeze or fallen from the trees above. The pink petal had just… appeared. Cupping the object in his hand, he walked directly in front of you and extended the hand that held the petal. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what revelation that petal was supposed to bring.

“Uhhh?”

Understanding your puzzlement, he explained that you apparently needed to place the petal on your tongue. You still had no reason as to why you needed to do that, but you still took the object gently out of his hand. Giving him a quizzical and skeptical glance, you proceeded to place the delicate pink petal inside your mouth. Expecting to have to gag on it as you swallowed, you were shocked when it simply dissolved on your tongue like powdered sugar. As soon as the last remnant disappeared you gasped as your vision went black. Stars erupted behind your eyes and the sounds of every living thing amplified to clarity. For a split-second, all you could see was that blinding galaxy. All you could hear was the stars twinkling and the rumbling of an endless, black expanse. You were fully alive, and you felt the world drifting by your fingertips. But the stars began to dim and dim and dim until your vision cleared. You blinked to regain yourself and stilled when you finally registered the clearing again. When you registered what was in the clearing.

You and Jimin were no longer alone.

Six strangers stood within the clearing.

Six of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen. Beautiful, regal, and intimidating as hell. They each wore a variation of what seemed to be a mix of armor and camouflage as they easily blended in with the spring colors. You sharply inhaled as you noticed that their ears extended into long, delicate points. They looked like some kind of modern Legolas. If Legolas decided to cut his hair, dye it random colors, and give you an immediate lady boner.

Damn. You seriously needed to get laid.

You stared at them before tightly closing your bugging eyes, counting to ten, and re-opening them. Nope, still there. They gazed back, waiting to see what you would do.

“You-I-I’m tripping. I’m high and I’m tripping. Whatever you gave me is some new drug, right? Which first off, screw you because that’s pretty fucked up,” you stammered out to Jimin, “Or you hired these cosplayers to appear right after I ate that thing. Mhmm. Yup. That’s it. Good prank.”

You looked at your friend, desperate for reassurance that this was just a hallucination, or some weird joke. He only shot you a sad expression before shaking his head. In a stressed gesture, he drew a hand down his face then through his orange locks.

Eyes bugging out yet again, you returned your gaze to the strangers. You noticed that one of them had moved to go lay down against the base of a tree, his arm tucked underneath his mint-colored hair. Was the situation too boring for the lad? You couldn’t exactly agree with him. About half of the others had small smiles tugging at the corner of their mouths, yet they were not all relaxed. Some were too still, too stiff to possibly be relaxed. A couple took a more forward approach and had their hands resting upon their weapons, ready to draw.

Hold the door. Weapons!?

Double taking, you saw that, yes, your eyes were correct. They were all armed. Swords, daggers, bows, one of them even had a mace. But no guns. At least that you could see. One of them had his hand tapping the ruby hilt of the dagger strapped against his side. You could see two more blades crossed behind his back. His face was more steeled than the others. He did not look in the least bit pleased.

Another with striking pale-yellow eyes said something to Jimin, in a language you couldn’t understand, gesturing to you as he spoke. Even though you had no idea what language it was, you put two and two together and realized it was the “gibberish” Jimin had been speaking earlier. The yellow-eyed man seemed to be the tallest out of the group, and although he did not appear to be pissed at the current situation, it was clear that he did not find it ideal. Whatever your friend replied with had the ruby-hilt man glaring even harder. Much to your surprise, however, was that a man to his left broke out into a huge, boxy grin.

Talk about having absolutely no clue on what was going on.

Finally getting over your initial, paralyzing shock, you found your attitude starting to make an appearance. Done with being out of the loop, you glared back at the one who seemed to have an issue with you. His hand stopped tapping the ruby gemstone and instead gripped the handle hard, his entire body locking up from the pressure. You swore he glared even heavier too, if it were possible. You internally rolled your eyes. What a chump.

Jimin took a deep breath and gently released it before turning to face you.

“Y/N/, I know how this is going to sound, but please just- Just listen.”

You looked your best friend in the eye and nodded.

“I’m not human, not entirely,” he explained, running a hand through his hair again. A habit he did constantly, but this time your eyes locked on his ears.

Jimin had never had what a person would consider a normal, rounded ear. His were slightly pointed. Not to the extent of the six strangers surrounding you, but a gentle tip that went beyond that of a typical ear. You’d never given it much thought but would occasionally tease that he was a magical creature. As you looked at them now, you could see that even though they were not as extreme, they carried the same shape and elegance as the ears of the others in the clearing.

Seeing the wheels turning behind your eyes, he motioned to the others. “I’m half Saeni. I spend my summers in their realm.”

“Uhhh-”

You were cut off by the man, no male you rethink since you were just told that they were not humans, that had spoken with Jimin earlier. He seemed to be getting impatient, his yellow eyes narrowing at you. Jimin rapidly fired back, gesturing to you over and over. God, you were getting tired of them talking about you like you weren’t there.

“Hey! Stop talking about me and not telling me what you’re saying. It’s super freaking annoying. And rude,” you declared as you crossed your arms with a huff.

Jimin whipped his head back to you in disbelief before he began chuckling. It was just such a you thing to do to already be over his big reveal and be demanding to be included in the conversation.

“Okay, okay.” He put his hands out in front of him as a peace offering. “So, they need my help, and um, need me to leave with them tomorrow.”

Um, excuse me. What?

He couldn’t just leave tomorrow. Damn looking forward to him going to his Aunt’s for the summer. He couldn’t just leave to go to this realm place out of nowhere.

“What about school? What about your Aunt’s for the summer… oh. Shit. There is no Aunt is there?”

Jimin only gave you a small, tight smile, his eyes filled with regret. Well, alrighty that answers that then. You took one deep breath, quickly deciding in your head before continuing. You still did not fully understand what was going on or what a Sinai? Saeni? Or whatever Jimin had said was, but you did know one thing for sure.

“I’m going with you,” you announced defiantly.

His eyes widened. “What!? No. No, you’re not. It’s not safe.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You could get killed,” he strained.

You simply shrugged. “To die will be an awfully great adventure. Plus, finals are going to kill me anyway so…” You mumbled the second sentence under your breath.

“Y/N/, this is serious. I mean it. You could really get hurt.”

A male appeared behind Jimin, the one with the boxy smile, and clapped him on the shoulder. You had been so caught up in the argument that you hadn’t even noticed him, and the others, moving. With him being up close, you could finally get a better look at his appearance. And damn, were you quite happy at that. He had grey, almost silver, hair that flopped against his forehead regardless of the thick headband that attempted to push it back. The band did lift the steel-colored locks enough to fully see his dark, prominent eyebrows and clear, sharp blue eyes. Hot damn. He was fucking beautiful. You also noted that he had a small mole on the tip of his nose, numerous silver hoop earrings, and a single, dangling feather earring that matched the arrows holstered on his back. While you were preoccupied admiring the specimen before you, the attractive male looked you up and down before smiling again and squeezing Jimin’s shoulder.

“For Exia’s sake, Chim. Just let her come. It’s not like you’re going to win an argument with a female like her.”

That snapped you out of your daze. A female like you? Slowly, you moved your gaze to Jimin then back to the male, ready to oh-so-kindly inquire as to what type of female you were. Just as you went to start yet another argument, you finally registered what he said. Or rather, you registered the fact that you had been able to understand him.

Your mouth dropped. “You know English?” You stupidly asked as if it hadn’t just been established that yes, he did know English.

“I do, but only sometimes.” He winked.

Ooo-kay. Like that answer made any sense.

He paused, tilting his head to the side before adding in a genuinely concerned tone, “Hey, you might want to close your mouth before you inhale bugs.”

You blinked your eyes twice in astonishment.

What the-,” you sputtered, “this is between Jimin and me, and…” you trailed off, again putting a hold on your outburst to look at your best friend.

“He called you Chim.”

He gave you another sad smile. “Park Jimin is my real name, don’t worry, but I had to go by another name over there for… reasons.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the glaring male turn his head to the side while snorting sarcastically. As you turned your head to him out of confusion for his reaction, you also saw Jimin give him a warning look before adding to his statement.

“Let’s just say that Chim is easier to go by.”

“Mmmm seems fake but okay,” you retorted, returning your attention back to your friend with a sigh.

With each minute that passed, it seemed like you knew your best friend less and less. How many secrets did he have? How could you even call yourselves “best friends” when he had seemingly lied to you since day one? You sighed once more, trying to wrap your head around it all. Although the entire situation was straight out of a goddamn fantasy book, you still trusted the person in front of you. Because this was Jimin. Your Jimin. Your Slim Jim. Even if he had avoided some things, he was still the boy that tried to scare you with a spider, he was still the person who has seen you at your worst, the person that was always there for you through breakups, injuries, and weak moments. He was still your best friend. And you wouldn’t abandon him.

You looked at him with determination. “I am going with you. Just tell me when you need me back here and what you need me to bring.”

previous [prologue] --- next [2]

#concentric #bts #bts series #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #fantasy!au #fantasy!bts #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #slow burn #enemies to lovers #e2l #chim #fluff #bts fluff #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts v #bts taehyung #bts jin #bts jhope

[gotmeringinghellsbells]

Your Going

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Characters: Eijiro Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: I love the two heroes movie and have been getting various ideas form it. This was one of them but was more or less a writing warm up. 

Description: Kirishima wants to go to the small lecture being held with in the I-Island convention. Free food, a lot of friends and same cool inventions! It sounded nice, especially after the long day he’d had with his best friend. The best friend who would rather not go at all. Well, the red head wasn’t going to have that.

__

“Aw come on man!” Red eyes rolled before closing. “Why the hell would I want to go to that boring ass event? It’s just a bunch of old geezers talking.” A pout was presented on the rock puppy’s face. “Yeah but we get free food out of it man. Free, gourmet food!”  

Bakugou wasn’t budging. Of course not. “I don’t have any formal wear dumb ass.” That should end the conversation. “I figured.” Wait. “That’s why I brought you stuff!” Damn it. Red eyes snapped open as the blonde sat up with a huff. “Are you shitting me shitty hair?!” The other smiled proudly as he held up the two suits. 

“Come on man, I’m hungry! We’ve hardly eaten all day!” Mainly because Bakugou got one glimpse of that purple bastard and took off in the other direction. One distraction lead to another and they only had breakfast today. They’d also been running around and enjoying various events together that required a lot of movement. 

“Then I’ll take you out for ramen or some shit. I’m not going.” He turned his head with a scowl, arms crossing. “Yes, we are.” The red head hooked the two suits on the shared dresser before turning to his friend. “Says who?” 

There was extra weight on the bed. “Says me.” Bakugou hadn’t bothered to move his legs when the rest of his body had resituated, which Kirishima made a note of. “I’m really hungry and this is my first formal event. Come on man, please?” His best friend looked cute with a small, soft smile and pleading eyes, but Bakugou was a strong man…. teen. 

“Then go by yourself. I’m sure the extras will be there.” The smile turned into a pout before Kirishima sat down beside the other. “So now our classmates are extras?” He just didn’t want to talk about this! He just wanted to stay in their room, maybe go into town and get something to eat, and come back and go to bed. A new day meant more villain things to destroy !

“Eijiro, it’s getting close to eight. Either go alone, or come get dinner with me at some diner.” The other pouted. “But…. your my best friend!” It was a sad attempt of persuasion but one nonetheless. “Do I look stupid and made of metal?” The boy narrowed his eyes. “He’s a great guy, alright?! He didn’t get invited, and you did.” He leaned in closer, thumb point towards himself. “And you chose me to be your plus one. So why would you not only invite someone who isn’t your best friend, share a bed and room with them, hang out with them all day, and oh yeah offer to buy them dinner if they weren;t your best friend.” The other smirked as the blonde looked away in defeat. 

“Whatever dumb ass, I’m still not going.” The smirk fell as the redhead pouted again. “Katsuki, come on. Don’t make me use force.” The other actually snorted with a large smirk on his face. “Are you threatening me? I’d like to see you try shitty hair. Besides, didn’t I beat your ass in the sports fest?” 

There was a crack of the knuckles before the other sat up more. “Maybe you need another ass whopping?” Kirishima smiled a bit. “Oh, I don’t think so. This time I’m taking you down.” His hands weren’t fists, they were clawed. Bakugou hesitated, shit. He wasn’t!

“Because I know your weakness Katsuki Bakugou.” Shit, shit, shit! The blonde grabbed the other’s hands, interlocking fingers as he pushed against him. “Weakness? I’m not the one that’s quirk cuts out because of even the slightest threat of being tickled. Not to menttion I don’t ask my superior friend for more and make him stop what he’s fucking doing,” he pulled the other up and onto the bed, back down first as he threw a leg over the red head. “No matter if it’s studying ot trying to train. Make me stop what I’m doing to cheer you up because your anxious, because you had a bad day, because you need the attention.” Kirishima’s face heated up before he used all his might to flip the tables. Strong hips. “How about less insulting and more laughing, huh jerk face?” Eijiro was getting hangry. 

He freed his hands, dodging attacking ones before digging into his best friend’s ribs. Bakugou’s hands pulled back to cover his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. Legs pushed the blankets around as heels dug into them. Damn this bastard! Bakugou had let him get too close, to friendly. He knew all his spots and how each would react. With that said, the blonde knew the same about Red Riot. 

But like hell was Ground Zero about to uncover his mouth to fight back. Why the hell would he give this little shit the satisfaction of hearing him laugh, huh? “Something the matter Kats-ski, I know you wanna let it all out. All you have to do is move your hand away.” That tease! That’s it! “Huh? Pff-! Whahahait! Ahahaha, S-Suki!”

The red head fell back onto his butt on top of the other’s thighs, arms crossing to try and protect himself. “Come on man, I wanna eat!” He let out another soft giggle as a hand found his tummy. “You need to get a damn shirt for your costume dumb ass. And my name is Katsuki.” The redhead’s eyes widened as he felt the mattress come up beneath him again. 

Oh no. He looked up with fear to see the evilest smirk ever just peering into him. His hands were above his head as fingers moved dangerously close to his quiet zone. “Huh? Wait a second! I-I didn’t even touch your worst spot!” Of course the blonde would fight dirty, but this wasn't going to be a fin dirty. 

He was trying to hide in himself, whimpering and giggling with slight anticipation. “This is mean Katsuki!” Was it? Probably. “Then let’s forget this childish crap and get some food!” The other wasn’t going to give up like that. “There’s food here! Just put the freaking tux on and let’s go!” Such nerve for someone who was still exposed to the enemy. 

“It’s going to be fucking boring and past my,” ah shit. He paused. “Your bedtime, I know, I know! But you can sleep in! Please? I’ve really never been to anything like this and I was really excited. It’s not the same to go alone or with the others. I want to go with you, man. Your the one who brought me here.” 

Operation puppy dog eyes were a go! But ineffective. “Seriously Ei? It’s a dumb gathering of people who talk about things neither of us will understand. I’ll make you gourmet crap when we get home if you want. My grandmother has a few recipes.” Nope, the other wasn’t giving up. Bakugou could see this himself. 

“I don’t want to go.” 

“How often are we going to get to do this?

“When we’re famous, whenever.” 

They were like a married couple. Kirishima went to shift weight again but was held down firmer. “I will use force. I’m not going Kirishima.” Soft giggles escaped as mouth that attempted to hide itself as the hardener started to react to soft scratching under his arm. “Nhahahao!” The blonde thought it over. 

This meant a lot to the other and he really didn’t want to see his friend disappointed. It wasn’t like Kirishima bent over backwards for him, but he was…. Caring and considerate. He normally respected Bakugou’s wishes or gave up fighting them after a while. But not this. He really wanted to go to this and the blonde could see it. 

Frankly, Ground Zero didn’t have an excuse for not wanting to go. Not a good one anyway. “I don’t want to be bored,” he stated as he slowly stopped. The red head was panting softly before he looked up to his best friend “Huh?” 

The blonde wore a soft blush as he climbed off his friend. “I just don’t want to be bored. I don’t care baout this stupid place, you just seemed like you wanted to go. The only thing here I actually have liked are the training games. I didn’t come here to hear a bunch of nerds and geeks talk tech and future, I don’t care about what they have to say. “The food I could care less about. I’d rather have my evening free and pay for food then sit through a lecture until who knows when, eat, and wake up late for what could be training.” Oh. Red Riot hadn’t thought of it that way before. He frowned. Was he a bad friend?

“Those nerds and geeks are talking about stuff that even Hatsume would find amazing. Improve our quirks, improves society, new inventions, all these amazing things and you don’t want to hear about them? Midoriya was telling me about a helmet that let you see all around your body when you put it on. A deep sea diving suit that makes you look like something from another planet.

“All Might is here too, so he’ll probably be there too. Maybe they’ll get him to say a few things.” Pulling out the All Might card, was he? So be it. “I’m not stopping you from going.” Come on man! That was it. Before the blonde could process he was on his back, an insane ticklish sensation shooting up his leg. “PFFFF! HAHAHA!” He covered his mouth quickly as he tried to fight back with his free foot. 

That bastard! “Come on dude, just come with me!” Too ticklish, too ticklish! The other kicked harder, especially when his best friend went for the toes. Okay, too much! “FINE ALREADY YOU LOSER!” Finally! Kirishima stopped quickly before just dropping the foot and walking back to the dresser. 

The smile on his face irked the blonde. Both knew the younger would be getting it later. “Awesome! So… roses or bland?” This was going to be a long night.

#bnha #ejiro kirishima #katsuki bakugou #fanfiction #fanfic #tickle #tickling #ticklish #tickle fight #dork wads #bnha kirishima #bnha bakugou #mha

[failes-xtra-bits]

Prince's Gambit Review Ch 3

Chapter 3 opens with Damen trying to get some sleep. Laurent returns and Damen gets up unsure of Laurent needs him, but Laurent ignores him. Laurent writes a dispatch and seals it before snuffing out the candle with his finger tips (wouldn’t that hurt?????).

They wake up the dispatch has been sent off while everyone else is doing the prep. Everything seems fine and dandy. The suddenly Laurent appears (dramatic bitch) and Damen makes his way over because the atmosphere is getting tense. 

We hear Aimeric (almost auto corrected to America) apologising to Laurent who asks him what provoked him to which Aimeric doesn’t give a straightforward answer. 

Laurent then calls for Govart and sends Orlant to look for him. 

Orlant was so long in searching for Govart that Damen, recalling the stables, silently gave Orlant his sympathy, despite their differences.

Govart is a complete dickwad is all I have to say. Anyway they wait.

“Things began to go awry. A silent communal snigger sprang up among the onlooking men and began to spread across the camp. The Prince wished to have public words with the Captain. The Captain was forcing the Prince to wait on his pleasure. Whoever was about to be taken down a notch, it was going to be amusing. It was amusing already...The longer Laurent was forced to wait, the more his authority was publicly eroded.”

This reminds us of Lauren’t precarious position and perhaps even indicates at a lack of respect which is probably what the regent wants.

Govart arrives thinking he’s the shit (he is a shit but not the shit mind you) for having just had sex (rape? Was it consensual? who knows, I dont think I’m allowed to go all lawyery here.) 

“Am I keeping you from fucking?’ said Laurent.

  ‘No. I finished. What do you want?’ Govart said, with an insulting lack of concern.

  And it was suddenly clear that there was something more between Laurent and Govart than Damen knew, and that Govart was unfazed by the prospect of a public scene, secure in the Regent’s authority.”

Once again we are reminded of the politics at play here (really Pacat could give GRR Martin a run for his money). Then something interesting happens.

“Before Laurent could reply, Orlant arrived. He had, by the arm, a woman with long brown curled hair and heavy skirts. This, then, was what Govart had been doing. There was a ripple of reaction from the watching men.

  ‘You made me wait,’ said Laurent, ‘while you bred your get on one of the keep women?’

  ‘Men fuck,’ said Govart.

  It was wrong. It was all wrong. It was petty and personal, and a verbal dressing down wasn’t going to work on Govart. He simply didn’t care.

  ‘Men fuck,’ said Laurent.

  ‘I fucked her mouth, not her cunt. Your problem,’ said Govart, and it wasn’t until that moment that Damen saw how wrong it was going, how secure Govart was in his authority, and how deeply rooted was his antipathy for Laurent, ‘is that the only man you’ve ever been hot for was your broth—”

  And any hope Damen had that Laurent could control this scene ended as Laurent’s face shuttered, as his eyes went cold, and with the sharp sound of steel, his sword came out of its sheath.

  ‘Draw,’ said Laurent.”

This exchange is interesting for many reasons. We are reminded of Veretian culture regarding bastards. Further we get the beginning of the fight. But we also get the incest rumour here. We know that Laurent worshipped his brother and weirdly enough I was like “hey this might be true" when I first read, considering how fucked up Vere was and how much I hated Laurent. But as you read, this view also breaks down. I love the unravelling of Laurent. 

Anyway Govart and Laurent start fighting and we get a very worried Damen.

“Damen’s heart jammed itself into his throat—he hadn’t meant to set this in motion, for it to end this way, not like this—and then the two men came apart and Damen’s heartbeat was loud with the shock of his surprise: at the end of the first exchange, Laurent was still alive.”

I like to think this where Damen started to  care, just a little bit. Sure its mixed with his own goals, but yeah this is what I like to think.

“ he was, persistently and remarkably, still alive, and watching his opponent calmly, measuringly.

  This was intolerable for Govart: the longer Laurent went unscathed, the more the situation embarrassed him, for Govart was after all stronger and taller and older, and a soldier. This time Govart didn’t allow Laurent any respite when he attacked, but pressed forward in a savage onslaught of cut thrust attacks.

Which Laurent turned back, the jar of impact on fine wrists minimised by exquisite technique that worked with the impetus of his opponent rather than against it. Damen stopped wincing, and started watching.

  Laurent fought like he talked. The danger lay in the way he used his mind: there was not one thing he did that was not planned in advance. Yet he was not predictable, because in this, as with everything he did, there were layers of intent, moments when expected patterns would suddenly dissolve into something else. Damen recognised the signs of Laurent’s inventive deceptions. Govart didn’t. Govart, finding himself unable to close as easily as he had expected, did the one thing that Damen could have warned him not to do. He got angry. That was a mistake. If there was one thing that Laurent knew, it was how to prick someone into fury and then set about exploiting the emotion.

  Laurent turned back Govart’s second surge with an easy grace and a particularly Veretian series of parries that made Damen itch to pick up a sword.

By now, anger and disbelief were really affecting Govart’s swordsmanship. He was making elementary mistakes, wasting strength and attacking in the wrong lines. Laurent was physically not strong enough to weather one of Govart’s full-strength blows straight on his sword; he had to avoid them or counter them in sophisticated ways, with those angled parries and shifting momentum. They would have been lethal, if Govart had landed any of them.

  He couldn’t manage it. As Damen watched, Govart swung, furiously, wide. He was not going to win this fight with anger driving him to fool”ish mistakes. That was becoming obvious to every man watching.

  Something else was becoming painfully clear.

  Laurent, possessing the sort of proportions that handed him balance and coordination as gifts, had not, as his uncle claimed, wasted them. Of course, he would have had the finest masters and the best tutelage. But to have attained this level of skill he would also have had to have trained long and hard, and from a very young age.

  It was not an even match at all. It was a lesson in abject public humiliation. But the one teaching the lesson, the one effortlessly outclassing his opponent, was not Govart.

  ‘Pick it up,’ said Laurent, the first time Govart lost his weapon.

  A long line of red was visible along Govart’s sword arm. He’d given up six steps of ground, and his chest was rising and falling. He picked up his sword slowly, keeping his eyes on Laurent.

There were no more anger-driven blunders, no more wrong-footed attacks or wild swings. Necessity made Govart take stock of Laurent, and face him with his best swordwork. This time when they came together, Govart fought seriously. It made no difference. Laurent fought “with cool, relentless purpose, and there was an inevitability to what was happening, to the line of blood blossoming this time down Govart’s leg, to Govart’s sword lying once more in the grass.

‘Pick it up,’ said Laurent again.

Damen remembered Auguste, the strength that had held the front for hour after hour, and against which wave after wave had broken. And here fought the younger brother.

  ‘Thought he was a milksop,’ said one of the Regent’s men.

  ‘Think he’ll kill him?’ another speculated.

Damen knew the answer to that question. Laurent was not going to kill him. He was going to break him. Here, in front of everyone.

  Perhaps Govart sensed Laurent’s intention, because the third time he lost his sword, his mind snapped. Throwing aside the conventions of a duel was preferable to the humiliation of a drawn-out defeat; he abandoned his sword and simply charged. This way, it was simple: if he carried the fight to the ground, he’d win. There was no time for anyone to intervene. But for someone of Laurent’s reflexes, it was enough time to make a choice.

  Laurent lifted his blade and drove it through Govart’s body; not through his“stomach, or chest, but through his shoulder. A slice or a shallow cut was not going to be enough to stop Govart, and so Laurent braced the hilt of his sword against his own shoulder and used the whole weight of his body to drive it in harder and stop Govart’s motion. It was a trick used in boar hunting when the spear wounded but did not kill: brace the blunt end of the spear against the shoulder, and keep the impaled boar at bay.

Sometimes a boar broke free, or snapped the wood of the spear, but Govart was a man run through with a sword and he went to his knees. It took a visible effort of muscle and sinew for Laurent to pull the sword out.

  ‘Strip him,’ said Laurent. ‘Confiscate his horse and his belongings. Turn him out of the keep. There is a village two miles to the west. If he wants to badly enough, he’ll survive the journey.”

I know I know I know, long excerpt but I love this fight scene. There is a lot to unpack here, but I love the bit where Damen notes the difference between Laurent and Auguste.  I also love the men growing respect for Laurent and basically driving a knife through the Regent’s plans.

Anyway the regent’s men move to obey Laurent’s orders without hesitation (another bit that shows their fear if not respect)

“The response among the Regent’s men was more varied. There were signs of both satisfaction and amusement: they had perhaps enjoyed the spectacle, admired the show of skill. There was a hint of something else too, and Damen knew they were men who associated authority with strength. Perhaps they were thinking differently about their Prince and his pretty face now that he had displayed some of it.”

  Lazar breaks the tension by tossing Laurent a cloth to wipe his sword. Laurent addresses the men gathered there and takes advantage of their new found awe and gives the order that they will ride hard and fast. Laurent then appoints Jord as captain and Jord starts giving orders. 

“Lazar, who had thrown Laurent the cloth, didn’t look as though he was going to be mouthing off about Laurent again. In fact, the new way he was looking at Laurent reminded Damen unmistakably of Torveld. Damen frowned.

  His own reaction had him feeling oddly off balance. It was just that it was—unexpected. He had not known this about Laurent, that he was trained like this, capable like this. He wasn’t sure why he felt as though something, fundamentally, had changed.

  The brown-haired woman picked up her heavy skirts, walked over to Govart, and spat on the ground beside him. Damen’s frown deepened.

  The advice of his father came back to him: never to take your eyes off a wounded boar; that once you engaged an animal in the hunt, you must fight it to the finish, and that when a boar was wounded, that was when it was the most dangerous animal of all.

  That thought nagged at him.”

Our thoughts about Laurent as well as Damen’s are unravelling. We are also starting to grudgingly admire this kid who managed to get the whole army to respect him. (Side note I like how the woman spat at Govart, you go girl, which reminds me. I wish we had more female characters here). The bit at the end reminds us that all is not over though.

Laurent sends riders to Arles, in order to inform the regent of what had happened. 

The company start to ride towards Vere’s eastern border with Vask. We learn that the men are more willing to obey Laurent’s command. 

Damen reports to Jord and we get this exchange:

“I could tell from your face. You didn’t know he could fight.’

  ‘No,’ said Damen. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘It’s in his blood.’

  ‘The Regent’s men seemed just as surprised as I was.’

  ‘He’s private about it. You saw his personal training ring, inside the palace. He’ll go a few rounds with some of the Prince’s Guard occasionally, with Orlant, with me—laid me out a few times. He’s not as good as his brother was, but you only have to be half as good as Auguste to be ten times better than everyone else.

  In his blood: that wasn’t quite it. There were as many differences as similarities between the two brothers: Laurent’s build less powerful, his style built around grace and intelligence, quicksilver where Auguste had been gold.”

We gain an insight into Laurent’s abilities. It’s not because his family were warriors or something but there is something more calculated behind it (whispers: its revenge). We also get another comparison between Laurent and Auguste which I live for bc ngl love Auguste.

They arrive at Nesson and Damen notes the difference between it and Baillieux. Damen goes into the bedchamber and lights the candle. Here he contemplates public punishments (both Laurent’s ‘embrace the slave’ and Govart’s recent punishment).

Laurent arrives and we get this:

“He said, ‘Did you pay that woman to fuck Govart?’

Laurent paused in the act of stripping off his riding gloves and then, deliberately, he continued. He worked the leather from each finger individually. His voice was steady.

‘I paid her to approach him. I didn’t force his cock into her mouth,’ Laurent said.

Damen thought about being asked to interrupt Govart in the stables, and the fact that there were no camp followers at all riding with this troop.

Laurent said, ‘He had a choice.’

‘No,’ said Damen. ‘You only made him think he did.’

Laurent turned the same cool look on him that he had turned on Govart. 

‘Expostulation? You were right. It needed to happen now. I was waiting for a confrontation to arise naturally, but that was taking too long.’

Damen stared at him. Guessing at it was one thing, but hearing the words spoken aloud was something else. ‘“Right”? I didn’t mean—’ He cut himself off.

‘Say it,’ said Laurent.

‘You broke a man today. Doesn’t that affect you at all? These are lives, not pieces in a chess game with your uncle.’

‘You’re wrong. We are on my uncle’s board and these men are all his pieces.’

‘Then each time you move one of them, you can congratulate yourself on how much like him you are.’

“It just came out. He was in part still reverberating with the blow of having had his guess confirmed. He certainly didn’t expect the words to have the effect on Laurent that they did. They stopped Laurent in his tracks. Damen didn’t think he’d ever seen Laurent caught completely “without words before, and since he couldn’t imagine the circumstance was going to last long, he hurried to press his advantage.

We get an insight into exactly how intelligent and meticulous Laurent can be. We realise that he orchestrated this. In Littlefinger’s words, he fights every battle, everywhere in his mind. Also rereading that little jab made by Damen must have hurt considering what know about what the regent did (kill him with fire).

“If you bind your men to you with deception, how can you ever trust them? You have qualities they will come to admire. Why not let them grow to trust you naturally, and in that way—’

  ‘There isn’t time,’ said Laurent.”

I like this bit because we get a contrast between Laurent and Damen. But we also understand that they fundamentally share very similar cores (those of goodness). We know Damen is honest but its weird that this quote insinuates that perhaps if Laurent wasn’t in desperate and  had the time and resources he perhaps would not result to deception but rather be like Damen and do things with honesty. Once again unravelling our perception of him.

“There isn’t time,’ Laurent said again. ‘I have two weeks until we reach the border. Don’t pretend that I can woo these men with hard work and a winning smile in that time. I am not the green colt my uncle pretends. I fought at Marlas and I fought at Sanpelier. I am not here for niceties. I don’t intend to see the men I lead cut down because they will not obey orders, or because they cannot hold a line. I intend to survive, I intend to beat my uncle, and I will fight with every weapon that I have.’

  ‘You mean that.’

  ‘I mean to win. Did you think I was here altruistically to throw myself on the sword?’

  Damen made himself face the problem, stripping away the impossible, looking only at what, realistically, could be done.

‘Two weeks isn’t long enough,’ said Damen. ‘You will need closer to a month to get anywhere at all with men like these, and even then, the worst of them will need to be weeded out.’

  ‘All right,’ said Laurent. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Damen.

  ‘Then speak your mind,’ said Laurent. ‘Not that you have ever done anything else.’

  Damen said ‘I will help you in whatever way I can, but there will be no time for anything but hard work, and you will have to do everything right.’

  Laurent lifted his chin and replied with every bit of cool, galling arrogance he had ever shown.

  ‘Watch me,’ he said.”

The chapter ends there and we are shown how dire the straits really are. This scene also solidifies the dangerousness of Laurent and his and Damen’s relationship changing.

(SIDE NOTE: I love that Laurent is arrogant in this, wot a king).

[yikes-strikes-again]

i've come to make an announcement:

Neil Gaiman is a BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKER -

but seriously i want to go off on a very specific ineffable husbands thing in episode 3 for a hot minute so let's blow this popsicle stand

 ~~~🐍♡🕊~~~

now, at the risk of sounding like one of those shippers who overanalyzes every single infinitesimal detail of their ship's interactions, i would like to momentarily draw your attention to a beautiful little moment in episode 3, Hard Times, the first half of which is, as we all know, entirely comprised of beautiful little moments.

so, about a minute into the episode, we get to see the world as it was in 3004 B.C. during the tale of noah’s arc. aziraphale is standing in a crowd, observing the commotion, when crowley (i guess it’s technically “crawley” at the moment but idc) appears.

now, i could go on about this interaction for days if you wanted me to. the fact that crowley greets him by his NAME after 1000 years of not seeing each other, which is an impressive feat of memory even if you don’t consider the fact that aziraphale NEVER TOLD CROWLEY HIS NAME IN THE FIRST PLACE (and yes, i did check). how did he know it? did he ask somebody because he was so curious (awww), or did he remember him from before he Fell??? makes you think 🤔 i mean it’s POSSIBLE that azzy just told him his name after it cuts away but i’m not making this fucking analysis based off of the HYPOTHETICAL god damn it  the cute little way crowley pops up over azzy’s left shoulder (symbolism much?) while azzy glances to the right (which was probably intentional on crowley’s part; it’s an appropriately mischievous thing to do (perhaps even a bit... flirtatious? hee hee hee)), the genuine, pure DELIGHT in crowley’s voice when greeting him, which, contrasted with aziraphale’s nervous reply, is even more conspicuous. like. crowley. dude. you’re not even trying to hide your massive crush at this point.

but this isn’t even what i made this post to discuss!!! 

this is gonna get real long tho so i made a read-more link

i haven’t heard ANYONE mention the significance of crowley’s very next line in this scene:

the smirk. the head tilt that he uses as an excuse to sidle just a little closer to such an interesting angel. the wiggle. head tilt #2 accompanied by inch rested eyebrow raise. the wiggle. the fact that his eyes are glued to aziraphale the entire time. and when he stops talking? oh, i know that look my dude. i see that little smile. that’s the look of Yearning. you’ve got a case of Gay Yearning and it only gets worse. you’ve fallen twice and you can’t get up. not to mention the delivery that i can’t show you through a gif but trust me DT wasn’t just playing up the flirtation factor through his body language, he was using his voice too. he doesn’t sound like he’s talking about inventing war and defying God, he sounds like he’s talking about a spicy little rumor that’s been spreading around the science building that directly concerns the very cute person he’s talking to. like, i can almost see the lockers and messenger bags. 

but more to my point. so, again, it’s been 1000 years since they last spoke, and what’s the first thing crowley mentions? that’s right, aziraphale’s rebellious act of kindness that initially surprised + impressed him! come on, we all love this moment:

*freddie mercury voice*  I've Fallen In Love, I've Fallen In Love For The First Time

what i’m getting at is that aziraphale made such an impression here, on crowley, that it was on his mind for basically the entire 1000 years since eden. enough to go out of his way to learn his name. enough to bring it up first thing next time they met. it’s the moment he remembers azzy for, the thing that sets him apart from the rest. aziraphale directly disobeyed God in an effort to protect adam and eve, which caused crowley to have the first crush in all of history. this we all know. but more than that, it was the first crush to survive a millennia-long gulf of exactly zero interaction god he just fell so in love in 3 words klajfldajsfkldsjf i’m soft

now, a counterpoint. it is absolutely true that their meeting on the walls of eden was hopelessly brief, and very little of their exchange was shown beyond this moment. therefore, there wouldn’t be a whole lot to make conversation about. BUT TO THAT I RAISE YOU the fact that azzy was standing alone when crowley specifically approached him at the front of the crowd. sure, it was probably a happy little accident that they managed to end up in the same place. but i assure you that this was no chance meeting, my friends. crowley meant to meet aziraphale here, and he meant to learn more about this angel who was Different and Not Like The Others and also to ask So What Happened Next? not to mention the fact that he popped up so unexpectedly behind azzy that i wouldn’t be surprised if he just miracled himself there. everything about their noah meeting just screams Deliberation. 

so, here’s my hypothesis for what exactly went down circa 4000-3004 B.C. 

1. eden meeting. crowley catches the gays for the angel of the eastern gate. both of them fuck off to do their jobs on earth and don’t see each other for a long long time. 

2. some years pass. in between temptations and pretending to cause horrible events, crowley’s thoughts routinely turn to the angel he’d met earlier, wondering what had happened to him. what was he doing now? probably some other genuine acts of kindness that came from a place of compassion, unlike the angels he’d known before his Fall. or, what if he got in trouble because of the sword thing? what if Heaven conditioned him not to do things like that again. that would be a shame, crowley thinks. a real shame. 

3. some more years go by, perhaps a century or two. you know what, crowley decides, it would probably be a good idea to figure out that angel’s name (he doesn’t remember him from Before). not out of any personal interest, of course, no way. just as, like, a polite thing. for in case they ever met again. god does he want to meet him again  so he asks around hell, real casual, y’know, like hey, just out of curiosity, does anyone remember the angel of the eastern gate? before they Fell? and some of them are just like Who? and others give him dirty looks. 

4. so he gives up on that for a while once his coworkers really start to get sick of it. maybe does his job, maybe fucks around for some years. but he won’t be stopped forever! he still wants to know that angel’s name. so crowley resorts to some more underhanded tactics. he corners some low-ranking angel who was just on earth for a courier assignment, and they only give him aziraphale’s name out of slight fear. success!!!

5. aziraphale. aziraphaaale. he tries it on his tongue. wonder what he’s been up to. is he even still on earth? hopefully. someone’s got to go out of their way for these guys. wonder if he likes the humans as much as crowley does. probably maybe? i mean if that sword thing was any indication. does aziraphale like demons with long hair, or short? wait. he’s angel, he doesn’t like demons at all. fuck. crowley doesn’t have a crush! he doesn’t!

6. he should probably get back to work. enough of this aziraphale business. psshh. he doesn’t know why he cared so much in the first place.  

7. 1000 years since the creation of the world already? wow. time flies when you’re immortal. although, the weather’s been really overcast lately. is there something fishy going on?

8. wow look at this huge crowd. that sure is a lot of animals. and is that... a boat? what’s that for? we’re nowhere near the ocean. better check it out.  should try to find a spot at the front so i can see - wait is that. is that...? noooo. no way!!!

9. aziraphale holy shit!!! fucking finally!!! wait no i’ve gotta play it cool. can’t act too friendly. he doesn’t know me. probably doesn’t even remember me. off on his own doing really nice things for people. doing really nice things even to his own detriment. i’m not even on the radar. but what if he does remember me? okay. focus. gotta be chill about this. i’m gonna ask him about that fucking sword.

okay hhhhh this was way too long for something so minor but god crowley continues to be relatable as fuck thank you gaiman + pratchett + tennant + sheen + fucking everyone who worked on this

#good omens #ineffable husbands #otp: ineffable #crowley #aziraphale #david tennant #michael sheen #i'm fucking gay #yikes original tag #yikes textpost tag #yikes fandom tag #yikes gomens tag

[notjanine]

2018 pop culture ranked

(highly subjective!)

MOVIES:

10. hotel artemis- everyone who didn’t like this movie is wrong. i know they advertised it as a john wick, but it’s not and that’s okay! accept it as-is, and it’s Good.

9. sorry to bother you- do i really need to explain

8. hereditary- i’m STILL mad at those last ten minutes for scaring me! toni collette is god

7. overlord- exactly what i wanted it to be. gross and fun! uglass wyatt russell COULD

6. the favourite- pls never let yorgos lanthimos write a movie ever again just stick to directing good scripts buddy!! bc i loved this!

5. spider-man: into the spider-verse- lissen. i know this should be higher. it’s near perfect. but

4. mission: impossible- fallout- i’m glad tom cruise has some weird danger fetish so he keeps making these. and that bathroom fight?? i’m still [redacted]

3. widows- name one flaw in this movie, i’ll wait.

okay okay okay. we all know what belongs at the top of this list. we all know what the best movie of the year was. but. it’s so close for me i’m gonna call it a tie

1. black panther- obviously

1. U P G R A D E - the first fight scene alone is better than every other movie on this list? give lmg an oscar for this; he’s got a Face and he USES it. and the cinnamontography?? what even is everyone else doing with cameras?? fling them shits around to make it look cool ppl. NOTE: i went into this movie knowing only -not tom hardy is in it -something about cyborgs. that’s it. don’t watch the trailer. go in knowing as little about it as possible. as a matter of fact, forget everything i’ve said about it up til this point. blacklist it on here bc i’m gonna post about it more. just watch it.

honorable mentions: the night comes for us (hot), game night (fun, and better than it needs to be!), ant-man and the wasp (hella bad science, but i enjoyed it a lot anyway???), death of stalin (iannucci), pacific rim: uprising (boyega is a star. eastwood is a good token white guy. A+ villainy tbh)

ALBUMS:

(not including scores/soundtracks!)

10. starcrawler - starcrawler - cut the sleeves off your t shirts, let your black nail polish chip, don’t clean your apartment for a couple days, put this on and channel your inner amanda brotzman

9. nobody’s watching - steady holiday - i know we’re all sick of whisper-singing breathy ingenues, but she’s my fave okay. 

8. prisma tropical -  balún - don’t you wanna feel like you’re in like a digital caribbean dreamscape??

7. dirty computer - janelle  monáe - again, i know this should be higher, but. it just doesn’t have the hit rate i want it to. does have some instant classics tho. miss monáe invented pussy with pynk and we have to respect that

6. isolation - kali uchis - She!!! this album is a PARTY

5. 7 - beach house - when black car comes on my consciousness instantly leaves my body to undulate in some dark starlit ether until lose your smile gradually brings me back to earth but i’m only approximately 60% corporeal until last ride finishes and i go to bed (yeah this is a nighttime album only)

4. soil - serpentwithfeet - bruh i was like six months late to this but holy shit. like multiple times during my initial listen i had to be like HE REALLY. when he said “i’m annoyed with clothes today / i’d rather swaddle myself in sorrow today” i FELT that

3. smote reverser - oh sees - jams all the way down

2. tu - alien weaponry - BANGERS ALL THE WAY DOWN

1. hive mind - the internet - morgan rhodes said this whole album makes you wanna rollerskate and that’s it. that’s the feeling. so good. smooth. fun. perfect.

honorable mentions (be the cowboy (i know, i know), acrylic, saturn, the hex, el mal querer, mozaik, the calling, double negative)

BONUS- EPs: (all of these would’ve made in into the top ten if they counted as full albums)

- the beauty of everything pt. 1 - alex isley - what a follow up to luxury!! i put this on in the morning a lot, set a good vibe for the day.

- conexão - amber mark - so good so good. this is a self-care soundtrack. put it on. light some candles. do a face mask. take a bath. braid your hair.

- crush - ravyn lenae - bops on bops. listening to this makes me feel like a girl in a way that is inexplicable??? like night song comes on and i’m. oh yeah! being a girl IS good and fun!

BOOKS:

(these are NOT all from this year, but i didn’t actually read many from this year, so this is just ~1/3 of what i did read, my faves, and the order’s only kind of correct, i didn’t put a ton of thought into ranking them but)

10. the shadowed sun by n.k. jemisin - loved it, but has one trope i HATE.

9. the hundred thousand kingdoms by n.k. jemisin - loved it. and the whole naha thing... made me feel some type of way (that #5 reinforced)

8. consider the fork by bee wilson - look. it’s a book about kitchen utensils. not for everyone. but i thoroughly enjoyed it.

7. the haunting of hill house by shirley jackson - oh man!!! spooky (idk why but my brain automatically fancast eleanor - nikki amuka bird, theo - tessa thompson, luke - billy magnussen)

6. don’t panic by neil gaiman - i read it THROUGH getting a tattoo. like lying in an uncomfortable position, exposed in a public space, with lots of people chatting and loud music. it’s that interesting and amusing (esp considering it was written before the trilogy was finished). but i’m a douglas adams nerd.

5. all but the bloody mouth by becca de la rosa - i read this all in one sitting on a rainy day when i should have been doing other things but i could not put it down. and i cried and i don’t even know why?? p sure i just got possessed by a swamp demon or something. would recommend

4. kindred by octavia butler - auntie octavia was that bitch

3. of things gone astray by janina matthewson - i would literally die for this woman. between this book and wtw she’s gotten more individual shoutouts in my gratitude journal than any other person (i think she’s second only to gus for 2018) (seriously though listen to within the wires s1 might be my single favorite piece of fiction in the universe)

2. the killing moon by n.k. jemisin - this is everything i want a fiction book to be i think. i forced myself to slow down on this just to enjoy it for longer.

1. the cooking gene by michael twitty - i would make this book into a horcrux. 

honorable mentions: alice isn’t dead (great monsters!), gulp (gross but cool), the patternmaster series (wild seed is my FAVE, but i read that one last year), sing unburied sing (ghosts), children of blood and bone (fantasy!), the shadow cabinet (the shades of london is my ya guilty pleasure i just fucking love ghosts okay and the first one is legitimately Scary)

#i'm putting a read more break at the top but for some reason they don't always seem to work esp on mobile #so if this all shows up on your dash i'm sorry #but i had fun doing this!! #i don't even know how i managed to keep up with so much media this year with school and all but wow

[flutteringphalanges]

A Heart of Razor Wire

Summary:  An alternate universe in which the X-Men infiltrate the mutant research center, Transigen, and rescue the children within. It is there that Logan is introduced to an infant identified only as X-23. This story follows the plot idea of how life would unfold if Logan raised Laura from infancy and the events that would follow suit. FFN and Ao3

                                               Chapter Two

Logan's mutation allows him many beneficial advantages that most mutants lack. Among, of course, his Adamantium claws, his ability to heal has proved itself to be of great worth. Gun shots. Diseases. Hell, he not only survived the detonation itself, but the extreme radiation of the atomic bomb dropped on Nagasaki, Japan. His body's recovery rate has always been up to par.

Yet, with all of that success in mind, his powers were now suddenly faced with a new enemy. Something that they really hadn't dealt with all that much before. A beast that had Logan stumbling around the hallways of the mansion with bloodshot eyes and a weary expression. Had him mumbling unintelligible words of what one might assume is an attempt at soothing at the small, but very vocal, and very unhappy baby in his arms. A monster with a definite, distasteful name. Sleep deprivation.

"C'mon, kid, for the love of Christ go to sleep," Logan almost begs, shifting the wailing infant in his arms. "It's fucking three in the morning. How the hell haven't you tired yourself out?! If you have another mutation that keeps you from sleeping…"

He's too exhausted to even finish his train of thought, resorting instead to rocking his daughter despite how sore his arms feel from this repeated action. The baby had only been at the mansion for a day or so now. And, because he was just that lucky, had been able to get four, maybe five hours of restless sleep at most. But the infant mutant's relentlessness was wearing him down and making him remember why exactly he had never wanted kids in the first place. But here he was, more lifeless than a zombie, trying to hush a child he had only just learned was his.

"Still no success?"

Logan nearly jumps at the unexpected question, miraculously not drawing his claws, for the baby's sake, as he whips around to face none other than Jean Grey herself. She stands before him, sporting a blue robe that falls just passed her knees and a pair of fuzzy, white slippers. Her deep, red hair draping too perfectly over her shoulders for someone who has been sleeping in bed. Not that it mattered. Hell, she could've been swimming in sewage and he'd still find her absolutely breathtaking.

"Logan?"

He immediately snaps back into reality, hoping that the heat that traveled up to his face did not create an evident blush for her to see. Jean merely continues to smile at him, arms crossed over her chest as her gaze flickers down to the baby. While her crying had finally ceased, the infant's small noises maintained the uncertainty of whether or not the wails would restart. Letting out a long, overdue exhale, Logan's gaze meets the telepathic woman giving her a small, tired smirk.

"Shouldn't you be cuddled in bed with Scott, or have you finally had enough of his big boy goggles poking you while you try to sleep?"

Jean's smile doesn't falter as she rolls her eyes. "Clearly you need sleep, usually your jabs are more creative than that." She shakes her head as Logan snorts. "You know, you still haven't picked out a name for her. It's been a few days and she can't be referred to as baby or infant forever. And certainly not X-23."

"Can't decide between Banshee or Tornado Siren," he snorts when Jean gives him a look. "What? I'm not good at these things. I wasn't expecting to be thrown into the role of Mr. Mom. And besides," he looks down at the baby. "Knowing me, I'd probably pick out something stupid and she'll be teased for the rest of her life. Or hate me and kill me. Maybe both."

"Well, I am sure something will come," the telepath says with some assurance. "I know it's so sudden and it's not like knowing you are going to become a parent several months before it happens, but you adjust well to anything better than anyone else I know." She pauses, seemingly thinking for a moment. "...Depending on what said thing is. Okay, you eventually manage to make things work."

He huffs, shrugging his shoulders that feel much heavier than they should. The threat of unconsciousness looms over his head, sleepiness clouding over his thought process. Hell, even the floor was starting to look like an incredibly comfortable place to nap. Jean, now appearing to notice the other mutant's fatigue, gives him a sympathetic look. She holds out her hands and it takes Logan a minute to realize she wants the baby.

"Give me the baby and go get some sleep," she says, continuing before Logan has a chance to rebut. "I'm not asking, I'm telling. And if you try to give me an argument, I'll be forced to use my powers to make you think otherwise."

A moment of silence falls between the two, Jean's stare not leaving Logan's as she waits for a reply. Finally, sighing deeply in defeat, he carefully hands his daughter over to the woman. The telepath smiles, shushing the infant when she starts to fuss. Logan blinks tiredly, seeming to struggle to figure out what to do next.

"Go," Jean says gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Before you collapse."

"Wake me up if you need me to take her," he mumbles, words slurring. "Or if you just wanna come hang out in my room. I won't tell Scott if you don't."

Jean gives a snort, shaking her head before nudging him. "Go," she repeats. "I'll take good care of her."

Logan mumbles something, but it's too quiet and slurred for Jean to comprehend. She watches as he shuffles down the hallway, slightly concerned that at any moment he might collapse and remain unconscious there in the hallway. Something that she knew would be absolutely terrifying for the students of the school to discover when they left their rooms in the morning for breakfast. When Jean feels confident enough that the man made it successfully back to bed, she lets out a small sigh, peering down at the baby cradled in her arms.

"You're in for a wild ride here," she whispers, staring down at the baby. "There is never a dull moment when you're at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. But that's what makes us unique and fun. And in the case of your father...well...that will definitely be something." Jean's mouth curves into a gentle smile as she notices the infant looking up at her, almost as if she could understand her words. "Welcome to your new home, little one."

"I'm sure as hell not wearing that!"

The expression of pure disgust on Logan's face as he glares at the bright pink, floral patterned baby carrier Storm holds up is almost too comical for both her and Jean to bear. Somehow both women had managed to convince their male counterpart to go baby shopping with them. Perhaps it worked because he was too exhausted to argue. Or maybe he was actually beginning to take this seriously. Whatever the case, they were now standing together in one of the many stores they would explore that day inside of the large mall.

"Why not?" Jean presses, clearly enjoying his overreaction to something so trivial. "I think it compliments you nicely. It gives you more of an...approachable look."

"I'd rather have Magneto yank my Adamantium claws out of my ass than go around looking like some pansy," he growls, folding his arms over his chest. "There's a reason car seats and strollers were invented." Logan's eyes flicker over to the infant who stares in return from her new seat. "Sorry, kid, but I'm not wearing a baby backpack."

"Well, it's going into the cart nonetheless," the telepath replies, tossing it into the basket. "Who knows, it might be of use at some point."

Ignoring Logan's frown, Jean began to push the cart, Storm keeping up with her pace as Logan trails behind. He didn't know why the two women couldn't have done this by themselves. It's not like he knows anything about shopping, much less when it comes to kids. But he had let them drag him out under the belief it wouldn't take long. Which, he now realizes, is far from that case.

"It never hit me how many cute outfits were out there for babies," Storm says with a smile, holding up a collection of onesies. "I'm starting to feel baby crazy and I'm not even her mother." She plops them into the cart, her attention drawing to another section. "Look at their nursery section! The bedding options, wall art, decorations…"

"I'm not turning my room into a nursery," Logan interjected. "She can deal with just a crib, it's not like she has an opinion either way."

But some of the items found their way to the shopping cart anyway and Logan, too fed up at this point to argue, just allows it to happen. It's their money that's being wasted. And they couldn't blame him when he went about throwing them away later. He had given them multiple warnings after all. So he lets them do what they want, hoping that perhaps it would make this whole trip end faster.

When Storm and Jean go off to look at something that Logan is sure he mostly likely will not give a damn about, he decides to stay back with the cart, remaining with the baby. He exhales, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. The phrase, "sleeping like a baby" was full of absolute shit. There had been so far no sleep on either his or X-23's part. And yet, while the thought of curling up in one of the nearby cribs somehow sounded appealing, the one who should be wanting the bed for sleeping is watching him intently instead.

"You know, there's this great thing called sleep," he says, eyeing his daughter. "And if you try it for more than several minutes, it's actually really cool." The infant merely blinks and Logan lets out a long sigh. "Christ, I'm talking to a baby, this insomnia thing is messing with my head."

"What a cutie," comes a feminine voice from behind. "Is she yours?"

Turning, Logan sees a woman standing before him. His eyes scan over her, making a mental note of the weird sling she sports that is somehow supporting an infant much larger than his inside. She gives him a friendly smile, taking a step forward to seemingly admire his daughter. A strange feeling of discomfort comes over the mutant as he watches the woman ogling his child. It's a ridiculous feeling he knows, and yet he almost wants to reach forward and yank the cart away from her prying eyes.

"Yeah," the words sounding much harsher than he intended. "She is."

The woman, not appearing to have picked up his tone, continues to smile as she glances down at her own baby before returning her gaze to Logan.

"How many months is she," she asks, her tone sickeningly friendly to the mutant whose lack of sleep left him with an immense feeling of irritation.

"Don't know," he says truthfully.

"Oh," her smile falls slightly, a look of uncertainty crossing her features. "Well," she exclaims, almost seeming to struggle with keeping a pleasant voice. "What's her name? It must be beautiful seeing as she is such a doll!"

"Doesn't have one yet," he answers dryly. "Any other questions?"

The woman places a hand on her infant as if attempting to protect him from Logan. Pressing her lips together, she nods at him without another word, pulling her cart behind her at a rather quick pace. At that moment, Jean and Storm finally return, both carrying god knows what in their arms. Catching a glance at the retreating woman, Storm gives Logan a look of curiosity?

"What was that about?" She asks, Jean also taking notice of the woman before she disappeared. "...Did something happen?"

"Just someone who needed to mind her own damn business," he shrugs, taking note of everything in both of the women's arms. "Are we done or do we have to call Charles and ask to loan money in order to buy this whole place?"

The baby's sleeping, much to her father's relief, when they finally arrive back at the mansion. After Jean turns off the engine, Logan is the first to get out. Quietly, he opens the car door and, surprising for a man of his size and strength, manages to remove the infant seat without any sound whatsoever. He glances down at his daughter, secretly finding the pouty face she's making in her sleep pretty damn adorable.

"Take her inside," Storm whispers, pulling Logan from his train of thought. "Jean and I can start bringing stuff in. We can get Scott or some of the other adults and older students to help if need be."

"You sure?" He asks, looking at both of the women before turning his attention to the many bags that sat in the back. "I can get her inside and then come out to help."

Jean merely shook her head, "We can handle it," she assures him. "Go get her situated before she wakes up."

Logan nods, mumbling a word of thanks as he carefully walks, keeping in mind not to jostle her, up the steps and into the school. He flinches when the sounds of overly excited students meets his ears. It's then he remembers that it's Saturday, Charles always having classes dismissed over the weekend before resuming once more on Mondays.

Cursing to himself, he tries to hurry as best he can to his room before one of the students manages to rouse the baby. Luck thankfully on his side, he makes it into the bedroom and closes the door with a soft click.

Sighing, Logan moves over to his bed and, once more with the utmost care, sets the car seat down on the mattress. Briefly the infant begins to stir causing the older mutant to fall completely still. Once he's sure she isn't going to wake up, he slowly lowers himself beside her, take a much needed sitting break. Momentarily, he closes his eyes, the feeling of complete exhaustion rushing over him relentlessly. To him, taking a nap sounds spectacular. Hell, if he could, he'd even consider going into hibernation like actual wolverines in a heartbeat. Well, perhaps not that far, but his body was craving sleep far more than any other needs.

"You're seriously wearing me out, kid," he murmurs, eyeing the baby as her chest rises and falls with each breath. "Not about to let me catch a break, are you?"

He snorts to himself shaking his head. He was doing it again, talking to the infant as if she could actually understand each word. It's a silly concept, he realizes that, and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he actually enjoys speaking to her. She couldn't, and certainly wouldn't be able to comprehend his words for quite awhile, but it's still nice thought. Then there's the added bonus that she can't talk back. But, he wouldn't mind the least bit when she's finally able to.

"To be honest with you, it's been years since I've felt this drained," he continues, looking to his child. "Now that I really think about it, maybe it's been as far back as when I was a kid." He pauses, trying to recall the old memories from centuries before. "Back in Canada where I grew up, my brother-your uncle I guess, Victor, and I would go to our grandparents during the summer. They lived on a cattle ranch and every morning, my grandfather, his name was Joseph, would wake us up bright and early to help out with the livestock and herding the cows from pasture to pasture."

Logan pauses, watching the infant carefully before he's completely sure she's still fast asleep and not rudely awakened by his recollections.

"It was tiresome, especially when Victor didn't do his part. But I couldn't really complain about it, my grandfather would whip us both regardless of who was to blame about the chores not being finished," he exhales, lips forming into a small smile. "But no matter what, even when we were in trouble with our grandfather, my grandmother, Laura, always gave us complete affection. I can't even remember if she even got the slightest displeased with us."

Like a light bulb clicking the instant someone pulls its chain, a thought sparks in Logan's mind. He looks at his daughter, seemingly studying her over like an art student would do when being faced with a historical masterpiece. He smirks, a rather pleased expression coming across his features.

"Laura," he says, playing with the name as if to see if it felt right. "Laura Howlett." He nods to himself, his smile widening as his attention returns to his daughter. "What do you think? Does Laura sound good?"

As if in response, Laura's lips part in such a way that it looks like she's smiling.

"So it's settled," he grins. "Laura Howlett it is."

And just like that, the label of X-23 was completely stripped away, and in its place a strong, well deserved name forever locked into place.

Laura.

Wow...I seriously wasn't expecting this to be so long. But it needed to be of a good length to really get the story started. And for those who are wondering, not for quite awhile, but events from the Logan movie will eventually take place-changed of course seeing as this story changes the course of what have you. It would mean so much if you could take a moment to leave a review/comment, a kudos, heck following, favorite-ing, and bookmarks are very much loved. It seriously gives me the motivation to continue knowing that people are actually, in fact, reading this. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Until next time! -Jen

#Logan #Wolverine #X-Men #Laura Kinney #X-23 #A Heart of Razor Wire

[stars-forever-dwell-blog1]

Blinded by the Light: Part Six

Things in the Peace Camp were starting to pick up; more people were coming to lend their support. Some of the locals on Salt Spring were also coming out almost daily, planning demonstrations, roadblocks, lockdowns and rallies in Vancouver and Victoria. It was an exciting time. I had this passion building up in my chest, galloping like a herd of horses, seeking an outlet. I was ready to put it all on the line for our cause. I was seething.

It was still early spring, and even though it doesn’t snow on the island, it was freaking cold. Day and night I was wearing at least three layers of clothes, t-shirt, long sleeved shirt, hoodie, jacket, underwear, long johns, jeans or army pants, waterproof rain pants. It was too cold to swim, so basically, we just never showered. Yes, it was gross.

I remember this one day I became so disgusted with myself that I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to be clean. Since I had no money to go anywhere for a shower, and I didn’t know anyone who I could ask, I hiked up the road a little to where I knew there was a small pond. I don’t think it was natural, and I don’t know how clean it was, but the water was clear and I was desperate.

I stripped down, seriously hoping there were no loggers around, and jumped in. It was that kind of cold that constricts your lungs so you can barely breathe. It was kind of stupid of me to jump in at all, but more so doing it by myself. But like I said, I felt disgusting, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Putting on my dirty clothes again after my “bath” kind of sucked, but it was better than how I had felt before. I just remember thinking it was all worth it, for the trees.

All the protests we did on Salt Spring took place in this one particular spot,, the Burgoyne Bay Triangle, where the logging trucks would come onto the local-traffic road, full of stripped and dead trees – trees that had been standing for hundreds of years, pillars of the ecosystem. We would all be standing there with signs and what-have-you, and at the right moment would stand in the truck’s way, blocking them from moving. It was intense; some of the loggers got mad and jumped out of their trucks with fists swinging, which we got on tape. Some would just sit in the cab and lean on their horn for fifteen, twenty minutes. Once, during a lockdown, when a guy named Fuzz was chained to the bottom of the truck, the logger calmly walked around, brushing all the dirt and dust from the truck onto Fuzz’s face, into his mouth and nose and eyes.

It was technically illegal to impede the work and progress of the loggers, so anyone who chose to chain themselves to a truck was going to get arrested; it was a conscious choice, a sacrifice that was meant to raise awareness to the public about the seriousness of was going on.

The process was always the same. We would gather at the appointed time and place, stand in front of the truck, and distract the driver long enough for the sacrificial lamb to get chained to the truck. Then we would wait. The cops would be called, and they would have to figure out how to get the latest, most advanced, thick / strong / metallic lockdown device off of the willing victim who was chained up. It was kind of a game in that regard. Once the person was freed, they would be taken to the police station and kept for however long, never more than a night, and given a date to appear in court. Then the driver could get back to driving his load of dead trees to the small harbour, where they got transferred to another island. It got so that all the people who did lockdowns, around ten of them, were given the same day in court, which all of us protestors went to, on the mainland. I never did a lockdown, though I sorely wanted to, because of my stupid shoplifting drama, which I still hadn’t cleared up at the time.

My personal favourite out of all the protests we did was when Bea, a local 98 year old woman from the island, stood in front of a logging truck and refused to move until the cops physically (but gently) walked her out of there.

So our lockdowns, barricades, rallies, website, and all the talking we were doing were definitely raising awareness and funds for our cause, but the Peace Camp was slowly but surely falling apart. I could see it coming a long time before it finally self-destructed. There were several serious problems, not the least of which being that word had reached a lot of the street kids on Vancouver Island about the camp, and they came in droves, feigning interest in our cause but really just wanting a free place to crash and free food to eat. It pissed me off to no end, but no one seemed prepared to do anything about it. I guess that’s the trouble with deciding on everything with consensus, not to mention the fact that almost everyone there was too blinded by the light to ever actually stand up and saying something wasn’t just fine, all good, blah, blah, blah.

So I was frustrated because of the influx of users for the sake of our fight for the forests, but also because the Peace Camp was home to me; I didn’t have anywhere else to go if it fell apart, if it became unsafe. I was tired of always being on the move, living out of my backpack. I had put down roots there, rightly or wrongly. I knew it was unhealthy, because one shouldn’t call a place home unless it’s safe to do so, but I wasn’t in a position to be picky.

I remember there being no respect at a certain point. I left for a few days, maybe to go visit my sister, I can’t remember. I closed up my tent, leaving behind a lot of my stuff, books and things. Among them was a beautiful Cowichan sweater my sister had given me, and a joint as well, that I was saving to smoke at a good time. And when I came back my tent had been slept in, (not by Goldilocks) and the sweater and the joint were both gone. I was not a happy bear. It was really a disgusting feeling, knowing that some most likely dirty person had slept in my space, taken my sweater and joint, not caring in the slightest what they were doing. In that moment, any confusion I had about free love, sharing everything and not being attached to material possessions fled. This was bullshit. My home and my things had been violated.

That guy Raf, the rapist, also came to the camp, much to my displeasure. Once again, I went out of my way to make him as uncomfortable as possible. He still leered and was disgusting, even though one day he apologized to me for what had happened in Victoria. I kind of nodded and said thanks, but made it clear that all was not forgiven. Not just from what he did to me, but also to the French girl he took advantage of when she was drunk. And who knows what else.

It was also around this time that a hippie girl named Paula came to the island, purportedly to assist with the protesting, and parked her big white van inside the camp, as it was her home.

One day, out of the blue, Melissa and George from Smaug’s belly arrived in the camp, and were staying in Paula’s van with a ton of other people. (Hippies call that “cuddle puddles;” that’s your nauseating fact for the day.) I kept my distance from all the people who were associated with the van, because I was so frustrated at how they were turning things into a party, but I did hear about the time when George and Melissa were arguing in the middle of the logging road, and George, who was over 6 feet tall and well over 250 pounds, reached back and punched her in the jaw. She fell to the ground, and a few people came over to see what was going on. And about fifteen minutes later, the happy couple were cuddling, arms wrapped around each other.

I guess the Orc in George finally overcame all the goodness left in him. I never spoke to him again.

Around the same time as she arrived, a whole bunch of kids who were still in high school arrived from Duncan, a town on Vancouver Island. There seemed to be an endless amount of them, and they were Waldorf kids.

The Waldorf approach to education was invented by this guy named Rudolph Steiner. The first Waldorf School opening in 1919 and it is, in my opinion, somewhat cultish. There are some cool things about the philosophy, but I think my opinion of it is largely soured by how completely fucked up all those kids were. Just. . .lost. And angry. And dangerously confident in themselves, all things considered.

Not all of them were Waldorf kids; some were just friends of the Waldorf ones, but they all kind of shared the same philosophy.

There was one guy who was sixteen and claimed to have lived on the streets of Vancouver, British Columbia and been addicted to heroin, so much so that he was shooting up between his toes.

There was a girl who, the moment she met the above mentioned guy, claimed she had a vision of his death, which would occur when he was 23, caused by a drug overdose.

There were these two kids from Saskatchewan who had both fled abusive homes. One was fifteen, the other sixteen. They had been adopted by the Waldorf crowd after living on the streets for a while.

Then there were the guys who had djembes, wore their hair in dreads, and claimed that they loved reggae and held Rastafarian beliefs, even though the only reggae artist they could ever name was Bob Marley. One of them refused to wash his hair even though he had lice, because Bob Marley never washed his.

Anyway, at this point the camp became divided into the universe in Paula’s van, and everywhere else; at least that’s how it seemed to me. Everything had changed, and the camp felt more like an ongoing party than an actual place with a mission and a vision. No one felt united anymore. And I, in my quiet way, had committed myself, body, soul, heart and mind, to saving the trees; all of my energy was wrapped up in this battle, and because everything was slowly dying, I felt like I was, too.

There was a woman named Marcia who lived on the island, an older lady, who had been connected with the camp ever since its beginnings. She was quite wealthy, and a few times bought hundreds of dollars of groceries for the protestors. She had always made it clear that any of us were welcome at her place to shower and do laundry, and a few of the people who lived in the Peace Camp went there and never came back. She kind of unofficially had started letting people pitch their tents on her property, and a few who got sick of the politics and nonsense in the camp made the move.

I had considered doing it myself for quite a while, but was unwilling to abandon hope in the camp. But after my stuff got stolen from my tent, I was done, even though it broke my heart. I remembered when the camp was beautiful, peaceful, quiet and focused. Now it was dark, chaotic, and unsafe. So I tearfully left one dark night, as the sounds of shrieking laughter and dissonant drumming rang in my ears.

Marcia lived on a really cool property on the north end of the island, just down the road from Aylwin. The landscaping was really unique, and there was a huge pond in front of the house that was empty. Behind the house was this cool wooden three-sided shelter, strung with twinkly white lights, and there was a bed inside. There aren’t really any mosquitoes on that island (just giant creepy-ass spiders), so sleeping out there on a summer night would be magical. She told me I could claim it as my space if I wanted to, but I opted for my tent, nestled in the bushes under the trees instead.

There were some seriously awesome things about living there. For one thing, there was no drama – at least not at first. For another thing, I could shower on a regular basis! And do laundry! Luxury! And I could read. Marcia had volumes and volumes of books, and her house was beautiful.

There were a half dozen other people from the camp living there, and at first we all got along pretty well, despite some personality clashes.

For me, moving there made me feel restless and out-of-touch with the protesting. Everyone who had moved there was kind of recuperating from all the drama and negativity, so there wasn’t much talk or focus on the protesting. I figured that this was a temporary thing, and once we were all feeling more refreshed and like ourselves, we would refocus our energies on the reason we were all there.

It soon became apparent, however, that this wasn’t happening, and I began to sense that Marcia wanted it that way. I could see that she was subtly trying to shift everyone’s focus onto a plan of her own, which she called Home Zone. I don’t know if anyone ever really got a clear idea of what exactly it was supposed to be, but she gave the impression that if we started working on this project with her, we would be saving more than just the trees on a tiny island. So I was all for it, not being a very discerning or critical-thinking person at the time.

I was still making an effort to be a part of the local protesting, but it seemed that there was an unspoken judgement being made: you were either on the side of the protestors, or you were one of Marcia’s “kids.” I found this baffling, because all moving had meant for me was that I now slept somewhere else. I was still completely committed to the protesting, but I felt like I was being blackballed, all in a very covert way, so I couldn’t really address it. And anyway, who would I address in a community with (supposedly) no central authority?

So the weeks turned into months and nothing concrete was happening with Home Zone, and I was feeling more and more disconnected from the local protesting, I kind of started wondering what exactly I was doing there. And it brought about a whole new wave of confusion; I had committed myself so deeply to the protesting that I felt completely adrift without it. I guess in the all-encompassing passion and single-mindedness of youth, I had never stopped to think about my life after the protesting was done, as all things end at some point or another. I had refused to believe that anything would ever change from those beautiful, early days in the camp. I thought I had attained peace, contentment, bliss. But there I was, on the other side of it, asking myself, what now? Kind of a mindfuck.

Shortly into my stay at Marcia’s, one of the Waldorf kids came to live there. His name was Arael, and there was an instant chemistry between us. A sexual intensity, and what felt like a real, unspoken connection. (This was the guy who had lice and never washed his hair. And yes, he gave me lice too. Yes, yes, I know. I’m embarrassed.)

I don’t really remember how we started “dating,” but I found myself falling hard for him. Of course, with him being a “no attachment” Waldorf kid, plus the fact that we were hippies, and him being seventeen and me being nineteen, we never actually talked about “what we were.” I thought we were a couple, sort-of kind-of. I don’t know what he thought, but I know there were no thoughts of “serious committed relationship” in his mind.

One night in my tent, I told him I thought I was falling in love with him. There was tortuously long silence, and then he said, “You should trust your feelings,” or some other flaky hippie crap that was not what I wanted to hear in that moment. I remember feeling this overwhelming hugeness in my chest, this aching desire for him, all of him. I thought he was the most beautiful thing in the world. But I was scared to really speak up and tell him how I felt, afraid he wouldn’t feel the same.

Another song from Solace makes me remember that time. . .

I remember the nights I watched as you lay sleeping

Your body gripped by some faraway dream

But I was so scared and so in love then

And so lost in all of you that I had seen

But no one ever talked in the darkness

No voice ever added fuel to the fire

No light ever shone in the doorway

Deep in the hollow of earthly desires

But if in some dream there was brightness

If in some memory some sort of sign

And flesh be revived in the shadows

Blessed our bodies would lay so entwined.

After a few minutes of awkward silence he got up and crept from my tent, saying, “I’m going to go be with the dawn.”

I was starting to wonder if Sarah McLachlan was writing her songs about my life. . .

I remember when you left in the morning at daybreak

So silent you stole from my bed

To go back to the one who possesses your soul

And I back to the life that I dread. . .

I remember listening to that song and thinking, yes, the dawn does possess his soul. His was a soul of dawn, cloudy sailboats, and blessed rain.

Summer had come again, and all of us hippies crossed the ocean to the mainland, and began the long hitch hike into the Kootenays for a Rainbow Gathering. Arael and I hitched together, and it was horrible. It was ridiculously hot, and we weren’t getting rides, for whatever reason. That’s how hitching can be sometimes. Yes, there were two of us with our huge backpacks, and that can be a deterrent for drivers.

The thing with hitching is that most people will pick you up because they’re alone and they want someone to talk to. So smiling and being personable is kind of a necessity. But after six hours in the blistering heat with no shade, no water and no food, one can get a bit cranky. So once we were thoroughly disgusted with the whole situation, we devised a brilliant strategy.

He would stand about twenty feet in front of me with his thumb out. And to every car that passed him by without stopping, I would then give the finger. If I hadn’t been so pissed off, it would have been hilarious.

After about an hour of this, a car going the opposite direction screeched to a halt right across from us and honked their horn. We looked over, wondering who it was.

I recognized a guy who had passed us earlier in our giving-the-finger phase. He rolled his window down, grinned at us, gave us the finger, and peeled off.

We both started cracking up, which improved our moods considerably.

So we finally got to the Gathering, and all of our friends had arrived ages before us. This was the Gathering I mentioned in Part One – the Bad Moon Rising Gathering. The first thing we encountered upon our arrival was all of our friends from the Peace Camp, almost twenty of them, sitting in a circle around our friend Christian, who was crying like his heart was broken. In front of him was a dead puppy, soaking wet. Apparently he had gotten this puppy at the gathering, and it had somehow drowned. We were all speechless, sitting there with him, trying to be supportive but not knowing what to say.

Looking back, it seemed like an omen of things to come.

The second day of the Gathering dawned sunny and dark. I could just feel something bad in the air.

My heart was in a tumult over Arael. I felt like I was in love – my first love – but instead of the joyful bounding exuberance I was supposed to be experiencing, all I felt was conflict, doubt, fear, pain. He obviously didn’t love me, but then what were we? All that stuff.

Sapphire was at the Gathering with her sort-of boyfriend Fuzz. They were in an “open relationship,” which roughly translated meant that they could fool around and sleep with other people, then get really jealous, have a big fight, and end up more in love than they were before, but still not be willing to commit to being monogamous.

So Fuzz and Sapphire, Arael and I and a couple other people went for a walk, looking for a waterfall we heard was nearby.

Sapphire and Fuzz were arguing, and she got annoyed and headed back to the Gathering site, and everyone else went with her. Fuzz had been upset and had walked down a steep hill towards a crescent-shaped beach alone. I told them I was going to check to see if he was okay, and down I went, into the Waldorf silence.

We sat on the beach and talked, and that same strange feeling pervaded over everything.

At one point I waded into the water. I was up to my waist, and Fuzz came walking in after me. We hugged, and then he kissed me. He had told me once, a couple months before, that he had had a crush on me, but then had met Sapphire and had fallen in love.

We stayed down there for a couple hours, kissing and talking. Slowly it started to sink in what I had done. Had I cheated on Arael, even though we had never officially declared that we were “together”? Had I betrayed Sapphire, even though she and Fuzz were in an open relationship? I somehow sensed that disaster had struck, and it was going to change everything.

We slunk back to the Gathering, a mutual walk of shame.

Sapphire, not being a stupid person, knew what had happened before we said anything. She asked Fuzz outright if we had done anything, and he told her. She was super pissed off at me, but she forgave me the next day. But on that day, her fiery French temper scared the shit out of me.

Arael heard “the news” through the grapevine, and he was obviously hurt and felt betrayed. I said, “Well, we never did say we were dating exclusively,” and he basically said it didn’t matter, and he broke up with me.

My first real heartbreak. I cried and cried.

In the morning, I wasn’t really in the mood for any more Rainbowing, so I packed up my tent and caught a ride back to Salt Spring with one of the protestors. I was too shattered to speak for most of the ten hour drive. I had fallen in love and lost it through some incredibly stupid actions that weren’t me at all. I had seriously thought about giving him my virginity, and I knew he was a virgin too. I wanted us to share that together, but I had ruined everything.

I went back to Marcia’s, sat in this fancy chair facing the front window, and wept eloquently for about two weeks, listening endlessly to Tracy Chapman’s album New Beginning, which I do not recommend doing if you’re going through a painful breakup. Seriously. Torturing myself with thoughts of what he could be doing. Was he dating someone else? Had he lost his virginity to another girl? Was he thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him? Had he forgotten me already? All that fun stuff.

One day I walked alone down to the ocean, needing my heart to heal, seeking comfort. I somehow felt I would find it there. I cried some more and did some yelling, and didn’t really feel much better. Looking back, I understand now that it wasn’t that nature was uncaring; I just didn’t understand her language back then.

Once again, Sarah McLachlan must have been stalking me, and was totally using all this heartache as song-writing material. . .

So I ran like the wind to the water

Please don’t leave me again, I cried

And I threw bitter tears at the ocean

But all that came back was the tide. . .

So the couple weeks went by, and then he came back. This was at the end of August, right around my birthday. I was going to see my sister to clear my head and such, and Sapphire and Fuzz and Arael were coming along to pick organic potatoes to make some money for the summer. Probably a bad idea, and not exactly conducive to head-clearing, but I was a hippie, so I was supposed to love everyone, never say no, have no boundaries, and basically just be a doormat. And I wanted to get back together with Arael.

He and I arrived before Sapphire and Fuzz did, and we sat outside my sister’s cabin talking by candlelight. I could already tell that he wanted to get back together with me as well, and I was full of fluttery excitement. But I also sensed that he had something to tell me that was going to hurt, and I was right.

Apparently, once I had left that ill-fated Rainbow Gathering, a girl named Caitlin, who had been on Salt Spring for a while, had arrived. She was from Alberta, and was, she said, just traveling around for the summer. (I later found out she had left home because her parents were separated, and she was really bad at dealing with painful situations, but that comes later.) She and Arael had started hanging out, and a spark had developed. Shortly afterward, that woman who called herself a shaman pronounced them soul mates, and they left the gathering and traveled around together for a while. And in the course of their travels, they had lost their virginities to each other.

Knife in the heart.

But, here he was, all these torturous weeks later, telling me this, and that it meant nothing and that he wanted to be with me.  So of course I told him I wanted to be with him too (though I didn’t say I loved him again), and by the time Sapphire and Fuzz arrived, I was glowing and flushed, and they knew right away what was happening, and they were happy for us.

That was the night of my birthday; pretty sweet.

Three days later, Sapphire and Fuzz went back to Fuzz’s parents’ place on the big island, and my sister had gone to stay at the crazy rich guy’s place to house- and dog-sit, and Arael and I had the cabin to ourselves.

It’s funny; I had been thinking about sex for so long, wondering about it, wanting it, being curious about it, but always saying no to the people who offered it to me up until then, that I sort of sensed it coming before it actually did. I had always said no because it just hadn’t felt right. I had felt afraid, or like the person wasn’t right somehow. But that night in the cabin, with the sound of the glacier-fed creek running nearby, the bright stars overhead, the awakening trees of the forest all around, and the castles of Faerie lit up and merry, when he suggested it, all I felt was perfect peace. A sense of rightness. And yes, a little bit of fear too.

And I said, “I’m afraid.”

He asked, “Of what?”

The true answer would have been, “Of it hurting,” but instead I said, “Of losing my innocence,” because I wanted to see what he would say to that. And I think I was scared to give him the true answer – because I knew it would hurt no matter what.

His reply was, “You can’t lose your innocence. You won’t.”

I liked that answer; I thought it meant that he cared about me, so I said yes.

And it hurt. It sucked. He had no idea what he was doing, and looking back, he was purely selfish in his desire. I can laugh about it now, because retelling how it went is so horrible, it’s funny.

He lasted about two minutes, never once looking me in the eye, came, rolled off me, said, “Thank you,” and went to sleep.

Ummmmm. . .yeah.

Yay sex?