#this is based off a quilt which is based off the lyric that makes me Bonkers...if anyone also wants to experience every human emotion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smurphyse · 1 year

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Fuck You, Munson | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, depictions of gore, monster fights, descriptions of blood, overuse of 80s song lyrics

Summary: You grow anxious that Eddie won't wake up. When he finally does, he's in for the shock of his life when he meets the crazy girl who saved him

Two weeks have passed since I found Edward Munson in the Darkness being preyed upon by creatures of nightmares.

After stripping him from a distance with my powers, I learned that he is in fact a boy. One with more tattoos than I’d think one would have at a young age. They look handmade, etched stick-and-poke ones likely done in dim light with as much precision as he could muster.

I cleaned him, and day by day his wounds are healing. His body reacts normally, healing at a rate I know is good with my assistance. He’s even going to the bathroom regularly… something I never wanted to have to worry about or clean up. At least Screech and Clem shit outside.

But he still hasn’t woken.

His pupillary reactions are normal, his eyes flicking back and forth beneath his lids as he dreams. I can tell when he has nightmares from the whimpers and whines that come from the bedroom. I usually stop what I’m doing and go inside to check on him, and a soft hand on his arm or brushing fingertips along his forehead seem to make them ease.

It took a few days to put all of his broken bones back in place, and I gagged with every snap and squelch of them pulling back into his skin. I couldn’t even take his rings off until I fixed his busted hands.

Who the hell wears this many rings? I’d thought angrily as the knuckles went back into the sockets with soft pops. I made sure to clean the blood from them before stashing them away in a box on a bookshelf for safekeeping.

Deciding it was too difficult to wash his unruly hair via a bucket and cocking his head over the side of the bed, I tied it up in a bun. I thought about shearing it all off, but the memory of Papa doing that to me as a child made me settle for an updo. We could be bun-buddies, and even if he never woke up I’d delight in it a bit.

He slept now on my bed, covered halfway with some quilts I found at a flea market, breathing softly. The rattling in his lungs died down after a day or two of clearing the blood coming in, and now he snored quietly when he wasn’t having nightmares.

I did my best when it came to healing the large gashes on his abdomen, but there was only so much I could do. I’m not exactly a surgeon even with my military training, which was meant to keep fellow soldiers alive so they could make it back to base. Unfortunately I’d left Edward Munson with thick scars stretching up his belly, chest, and neck… but at least he was alive for now.

He’d become a part of my household. The first few days I tiptoed around to let him rest, worried he might startle again and hurt himself. Now, I putter around like I did before he came, listening to the radio or talking to myself or Clem and Screech. I ignored him for the most part until I had to bathe him with a sponge before bed each night.

A few times a day I change his bandages and clean his wounds, check him over for any new signs of bodily stress. He’s healing well… getting better every day, but it keeps bothering me that he won’t open his eyes on his own.

I want to see them again, want to talk to him to figure out how he got here. I haven’t ventured out into the Dark since I brought him here, scared he’ll die in my bed by himself, so I haven’t been able to find the gate he came through. I need to close it like I have the others that pop up every few months.

I rarely venture outside of the Haven for this exact reason… I want nothing to do with the Darkness or Henry or any of the shit outside of my property. Not anymore.

Tonight I glare at him as I sit on the edge of the bed, lip curled into a frown. As I have for the last two weeks, I take my flashlight and flick it on. I gently lay my hand on his cheek and pull on his eyelid just to see them open. Glassy brown stares back at me, but there’s no consciousness to be found.

I flick the light back and forth in irritation. “Wake up so I can send you back where you came from!”

To my surprised horror, his eyeball moves, his pupil dilating for just a moment. A sharp grunt bursts from his chest, and I yelp and release him. Protectively, I pull my arms to my chest as his head lolls back to one side.

I watch him curiously for a few moments, expecting him to finally rouse. His breathing goes back to normal and he relaxes into the mattress. Creeping closer, I reach out with a cautious hand and poke his cheek.

Nothing.

As extensive as my military training is from my time with Papa and the lab, I know nothing about comas. What the hell am I supposed to do if he doesn’t wake up? Just sit here every day and take care of him until he finally dies? Ugh, then I’ll have to bury him.

Stomping my foot like a child, which I immediately regret when Papa’s face pops up in my mind to give me a disapproving look, I grumble and head for the kitchen. I’ll cook myself some dinner instead of worrying about him. At least I know one of us will be alive for leftovers tomorrow. If he dies, I won’t have to keep mushing up food and feeding him through a tube. It’s gross anyway, and I’d rather bury him than keep doing that.

“Fine,” I mutter, turning on my heel and walking out the door. “Fuck you, Munson.”

Eddie’s head pounds like the bass at a Corroded Coffin show, only he’s not enjoying himself nearly as much as he does in a shitty bar outside of Hawkins as he shreds on stage. Struggling to open his eyes, his futile attempts to put a steadying hand beneath himself fail. His limbs refuse to cooperate, as does the rest of him. The slits of sunlight that come through each time he tries to peel his eyelids apart make them shut immediately, and soon enough he gives up.

The memory of the demabats swarming him as he played on his guitar keeps jolting him awake, but he can’t tell how much time passes between nightmares. He hears someone talking now and then, sometimes yelling, but mostly he hears music… shitty music. Everything from Bowie to Redbone to Cher plays in his head, and he quickly decides through his mind fog that they’re the cause of his migraine.

He manages to open his eyes after what feels like years of trying, blinking heavily through dim lighting. His head rocks to the side as another terrible song blasts through the speakers he can’t focus enough to find and turn off.

"Baby, baby, I don't know what I'm doing," the Kinks play, making Eddie wince. This shit’s so old… he bet Steve picked it, the dork. "Everything I do, it turns to ruin."

His eyes finally slide into clarity, surrounded by a dark shadow. He finds himself in a small cabin room. An array of houseplants litter the place, vines hang from the walls and trail up through the ceiling cracks, poking into the wooden beams and disappearing. A few sit on tables and shelves, one hangs above him above the window where he lay, succulents line up on the windowsill.

Eddie sits up slowly, gasping painfully as a shock rips up his belly and seems to burst through his chest. He rips the thin quilt from his lap only to discover himself buck naked… and his abdomen covered in long tendriling scars.

Tears spring from his eyes as he runs a shaky finger down one of them, wincing at the pain that emanates from the redlined puckered skin. He counts five in his limited eyeline, all thick branched and scabbed over.

How did I survive? he wonders in shock. The last memory that surfaces is Henderson clutching his leather and denim as Eddie bled out in the Upside Down, sobbing as he proudly proclaimed he was no longer a coward.

Eddie was sure he was going to die and he wasn’t scared.

Henderson. Harrington. Nancy and Robin, Lucas and Max.

They need to know he’s awake, that he’s okay. Soft singing floats in from another room, and Eddie figures it’s Nancy from the terrible taste. He looks around for his clothes, but the only thing he can see is the blanket he threw to the ground.

Eddie reaches for it, the bed creaking with his shifting weight. His stomach burns with a renewed round of pain as he grunts in annoyance. Finally he sits back and lets out an irritated sigh.

“Wheeler…” he tries, but his voice cracks dryly in his throat. Licking his lips he tries again, but even less comes out, “Harrin… oh fuck it.”

Swinging his feet onto the hardwood floor, face scrunching and heating up with the effort as he struggles to grab the blanket. He stretches until he can pull it close, kicking it up and pulling it back over his lap. The last thing he needs is Nancy or Robin seeing his dong when he’s vulnerable like this.

Wrapping the blanket around his waist, he tries to stand. The world shifts beneath him, his vision dragging and threatening to black out. His fingernails dig into the nightstand as he waits for the spots to blink away, eyeing the bookshelf lining the wall to gauge his path toward the music.

“Come on, baby, I don’t mind. Two lonely people, the helpless kind.” Eddie hears someone singing along, the floor creaks with her movements. “Come on, baby, love me ‘til the sun shines.”

Saliva floods his mouth as he smells food… it’s like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, and the gurgling of his stomach burns as badly as the scarring on his chest.

It takes him through the end of the song to tug himself up enough to stand. Sweat beads across his forehead as he struggles to keep the stupid blanket around his waist. Eddie usually wears a hair tie around his wrist but it was gone or he’d have used it.

“Clem! Screech!” a voice calls as he makes his way slowly toward the door. Inching along, Eddie peeks as much as he can, watching the shifting shadows through the light pouring in. “Dinner!”

He hears a barking noise, then the scarfing of food. Where the hell did they take him? None of them have pets beside Dustin.

As she comes back in, a screen door creaks shut. The music turns up a little as another old song plays, “Well, she was an American Girl. Raised on promises.”

Her voice is sweet, but Eddie doesn’t recognize it as he struggles his way toward the door. "After all it was a great big world. With lots of places to run to. Yeah, and if she had to die tryin', she had one little promise she was gonna keep."

Leaning heavily on the frame, Eddie finally catches a glimpse of the singing girl with the weird taste in music. She sways in time in front of a kitchen sink, surrounded by an army of dishes as she washes them in sudsy water. Her dark eyes watch the window, the vined plants above on a shelf drape between two nails to form a curtain. The cabin is small, one big room besides the bedroom he’d been sleeping in. Teensy string lights hang around the walls with the plants, and Eddie hears a storm brewing in the distance over the music.

But she is what makes his heart stop in his chest.

She’s not Robin or Nancy or Max, and Eddie doesn’t recognize her from school. She dances in place in nothing but a ratty old flannel, her chocolate curls flung up in a messy ponytail as she smiles out the window. Eddie makes a face as he realizes his own aren’t tickling his shoulders, and finally feels that it’s held up in a tight bun.

He tugs and releases his curls as he eyes her tanned legs, the soles of her feet dusted with a bit of dirt from not wearing shoes. A bruise blossoms on the back of her thigh and a scratch is healing to a pale jagged pink as she washes a coffee mug. He cranes his head to trail his gaze down the soft curve of her jaw, the supple swell of her cheekbone and full lips of her profile as she focuses on something outside. She’s beautiful, and Eddie swallows thickly as he struggles to speak.

“Hey…” he starts, but again it comes out weak and cracked. Eddie clears his throat and pushes off the door, stumbling on shaky legs as he pads into the kitchen.

Eddie reaches out to touch her shoulder, and suddenly her head turns to face him, dark eyes bright and fierce. Her hand shoots out and he’s flung back. His eyes clamp shut as he braces for the impact of hitting a wall, but a lightning fast screeching erupts behind him.

Instead of hardwood his ass hits something soft, and when he cautiously opens his eyes he finds himself plopped on an old flowery printed armchair. Eddie pants as he looks around in shock, but the girl lets out a happy yelp.

“Oh my god!” she yells excitedly, jumping in her spot. “You’re awake!”

She dries her hands off with a towel she snatches from the counter before tossing it aside. Hurrying over, she drops to her knees in front of him. Her hands go straight for his damaged stomach, warm fingertips grazing across his skin. Eddie winces and flinches away.

She pulls back with wide eyes, holding her hands protectively to her chest. She gives him a sheepish smile, “I really thought you were going to die, Edward.”

“Uhm, it’s Eddie…” is all he manages to croak out, and she nods to herself and taps her temple.

“Eddie, okay,” she grins, then sticks out her hand for him to shake. “Zero.”

Eddie makes a face, and she lets out an awkward sigh. She glances around for a moment before slapping her hands down on the tops of her exposed thighs, “You probably want some clothes, huh?”

Eddie looks down only to realize he was sitting on display for this strange woman to see. He tugs on the blanket to cover himself but she waves a hand nonchalantly, “I’ve seen it already. Don’t worry.” Eddie watches in horrified shock as she gets to her feet and walks back in the bedroom, speaking as though she knew him and this wasn’t some fucked up nightmare. He has no idea who she is and she’s seen him naked? “I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to wake up and I really thought you were gonna die in my bed…”

A drawer opens and closes, then she makes her way back in and hands him a pair of sweats and a flannel. Eddie takes the pile with a shaky hand as he continues her rambling.

“It was easier to keep you naked, and it was less laundry for me to do…” she trails off as he stares wide-eyed at her. She cocks her head, “Are you okay?”

Eddie licks his dry lips and shakes his head slowly, “Who are you?”

“I told you, I’m Zero,” she frowns, putting her hands on her hips.

“Okay… Zero,” he says slowly, leaning as far away from her as he could into the back of the chair. “Where are my friends?”

Zero frowns and looks again toward the window, “ You were the only one I found.”

Panic surges through him at the thought. Dustin, Max, and Lucas are just kids and the rest of them all have families who will look for him. He puts a shaky hand under himself to get up, but she flicks her wrist and he’s pushed back into the chair once more.

“I didn’t find any bodies, so I’m sure they’re fine.” She frowns again as he tries to get up again, but he can’t seem to move, “You shouldn't even be out of bed, okay? When I found you you looked like minced meat. I’m surprised I put you back together again, Humpty Dumpty.”

“You found me?” he asks incredulously. “What the hell were you doing in the Upside Down?”

Now it was her turn to make a face, “What the hell is the Upside Down?”

“Where you found me,” Eddie hisses. He points out the window toward the night even though they were far away from it all. Rage began to course through him at her indifference. “Purple clouds and lightning? Flying monsters and vines everywhere?”

Her dark eyes widen as her gaze follows his finger, her jaw dropping slightly. Zero nods slowly before turning back to him.

“I think you should get some sleep.”

Eddie watches angrily as she unfurls the sweatpants and grips the waistband. She watches him expectantly but he doesn’t budge.

“What were you doing there?”

She sighs and shakes them again, but when he sets his jaw and glares she tosses them on his lap. “I could tell something was going on out there so I went to investigate and found you, okay?”

“You found me?” Eddie asks as fresh hurt blossoms through his chest. "They left me there?"

Zero shrugged, "They probably thought you were dead. I did."

“Where am I?”

“In a cabin.”

“Where am I?” he asks again.

Zero groans dramatically and stalks off toward the front door. Her hand waves toward him and the armchair starts to shake. Eddie lets out an embarrassing yelp as it lurches forward by itself across the hardwood, following Zero out onto the porch.

The midnight blue sky hangs above them as the armchair scooches outside. Eddie grips the armrests tightly until it stops moving and has to peel his fingernails from the fabric. Stars pierce the sky, glittering like thin sparkling tulle in the warm night. A soft breeze glides through, but it doesn’t cut with its chill. Instead, it calms, and his hair dances over his shoulders in time.

Zero points out toward the distance where the blue meets angry pulsing purple and red. The storms Eddie heard over the radio rumble ten times louder now that he sees it, and his damaged heart drops low into his stomach.

“We’re in the Haven,” she says solemnly. Her eyes glisten with wetness as she watches the storm forming. She points again, “That’s the Darkness, or as you call it…”

“The Upside Down,” Eddie finishes for her in revulsed horror. “We’re still in the Upside Down.”

Zero nods, “You never left.”

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: Lmao you guys don't know what I went through making this gif small enough for Tumblr... anywho how do you think Eddie's going to deal with being in the Upside Down?? How do you think he and Zero will get along now that Eddie's awake?

ST Taglist: @tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23 @spacedoutdaydreamer @legendarytrashcopeclipse

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crjupdates · 2 years

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Carly Rae Jepsen Has a Cynical Side

But she's still optimistic about love.

The Cut • Danielle Cohen • October 19, 2022

Photography by Tina Tyrell

Carly Rae Jepsen has a lot of feelings. If you’ve heard her songs, you know this: Intense crushes, first loves, and devastating breakups make up the musical vocabulary of the bubblegum-pop princess (or queen, if you ask her fans) who pours her heart into critically acclaimed records. In conversation, she’ll casually drop deep thoughts about romance between updates on her meditation journey (she just started) and riffs on Billie Holiday. “When you feel euphorically in love,” she tells me conspiratorially, “it feels like a miracle that’s happened only to you.” But Jepsen also knows she’s not the only one who feels this way. “It’s an extreme emotion that we experience privately but is universally shared,” she says of her most frequent subject.

When I meet Jepsen on a fall afternoon in New York, the light is glinting off her star-and-moon nail decals while she gestures wildly into the aisle of the Central Park Boathouse. Dressed in a black crepe turtleneck and a quilted jacket-and-short set, she stands out amid the Canon-toting tourists and uptown retirees sitting on the Boathouse’s back porch, overlooking the park’s lake. She is, to put it mildly, happy to be here. Her eyes, accented at the corners with little clusters of face sequins, widen incredulously when our salads arrive. She speaks quickly and a little breathlessly, as if she has too many thoughts to squeeze into a single sentence. At one point, our waiter tells her she looks like an actor from House of the Dragon, which she takes as a compliment — despite having never heard of the show.

She launches into a story about planning the So Nice Tour, which began in September and will incorporate songs from her fifth album, The Loneliest Time. “I was getting so fixated on the video-wall content and the placement of our hands and where the clouds were and the moon being timed right that I was talking a million miles a minute and losing my voice,” she tells me. “I had to give myself a real talking to, like, None of this will matter if you can’t sing!” She pauses briefly to marvel at the olive focaccia another uniformed waiter forks onto our plates. Her meticulously planned celestial-themed manicure, she explains, will come off the second she wraps the tour in February. “I can’t text. Everything comes out like a haiku.” Being back in New York is a treat for the Canadian native, who decided at the last minute to stay at the Plaza in order to give herself a brief respite from her first week of tour-bus coffee and corporate hotels. “Look at this!” she sighs, beaming and stretching her arm toward the rowboat-dotted water. “Look where we are right now! I didn’t know this existed.” Her giddiness makes our surroundings feel like a cross between a ’90s romantic comedy and an advertising campaign for the city. “Days like this make me want to move to New York,” she admits.

While she may be “coquettishly” browsing apartments here, Jepsen’s home base is Los Angeles. Amid the explosion of “Call Me Maybe,” the inescapable hit that made her a household name and tween birthday party staple, the musician left Vancouver and settled in California, where she’s been living since 2012 — though between tours and festivals, she confesses, it quickly became more like where her clothes lived. In the past decade, Jepsen has evolved into a more mature musician and earned herself a spot in the pantheon of low-key pop girls with passionate, if small, fan bases and plenty of clout with music critics. Her songs still clearly come from the same artist who sang “Call Me Maybe,” and for every deeply confessional lyric, there’s an irresistible hook that loops joyously in your head for days. But the candid uncoolness of her writing, full of yearning and the outlandish fantasies that come with having a crush on someone you barely know, is offset by a surprisingly indie-leaning roster of collaborators. (Dev Hynes and Vampire Weekend’s Rostam Batmanglij have both made appearances in her liner notes alongside more predictable pop writers such as Jack Antonoff.) In the world of Jepsen’s music, the emotions are just as big as the saxophone riffs, and your most desperate, heartbreaking thoughts can become glittery pop anthems to belt out in the shower.

The concept behind her new album stems from a deep-rooted feeling of discomfort. “It’s been a lifelong inquiry that I’ve had with myself about my relationship to loneliness,” Jepsen explains. “The idea that you have to be happy by yourself — like, ‘Go be alone and be happy!’ — that’s bullshit to me. You become really happy on your own when you know you have connections out there.” She finds isolation and connection to be two sides of the same coin: Being lonely can bring people together, hopefully through music like her own. “Loneliness is a similar thing to love,” she says, digging into her “insane” peach-cake dessert. “It’s felt everywhere by everyone at different moments in their life.”

The Loneliest Time is an extension of Jepsen’s familiar, infectious sound — but tinged with cynicism. She wrote most of it during the pre-vaccine months of the pandemic, quarantined at home in L.A. Having spent most of her adult life working, traveling, and recording, she was suddenly, undeniably, “home alone with the cat.” The existential-crisis questions rushed in: Was she happy being on the road this often? Did she need more balance? Was she connected enough with her family and friends? She ventured onto a dating app for the first time, which did not help her find love but did provide the inspiration for The Loneliest Time’s summer single, “Beach House,” a send-up of Tinder clichés. (“Boy No. 2 had a beautiful face / Highly agreed to go back to his place / His wife really had some impeccable taste,” she sings in an early verse.)

But Jepsen is quick to point out that, on “Beach House,” her cynicism is “very pointedly at the sharks and not the lovers.” If she’s sneaking fewer starry-eyed ideas about love into her music, it’s because she knows she’s not the only one experiencing those feelings. “I thought music was for escapism,” she says, but a recent James Taylor concert where she found herself having a cathartic cry made her realize something else: “It’s permission to feel whatever it is that you need to feel.” While she left that concert in a puddle of tears, you’re more likely to leave one of hershows bopping your head to a flawless pop earworm. Whether you want to dance or cry to your feelings, the outcome is the same: You’re feeling them to the fullest extent.

Jepsen is a notoriously prolific songwriter — she’s said to have written over 200 tracks for each of her two most recent albums, which she hones down to an album length through a complex system of sticky notes, poster board, and listening parties. But The Loneliest Time was different. Instead of writing on the road, where she solicits constant feedback from her band, she was at home plowing through ideas by herself (and, occasionally, on Zoom with her collaborators). She couldn’t go into a studio to record as often as she wanted, which meant she didn’t have her usual bounty of tracks to whittle down. Theseclusion ended up working to her advantage. “I thought what I was making was a little bit too strange to get right away,” she says tentatively, “and I didn’t want someone to stop me by saying a negative thing I wasn’t ready to take in yet. So my artwork itself had a lonely time.”

Once she shared the album with her label, she was surprised and a little panicked to find they liked the most personal tracks — ones she initially wrote “just for me” and would now, it seemed, be sharing with the world. Ahead of Coachella, where she debuted The Loneliest Time’s folksy lead single, “Western Wind,” she gathered her bandmates and had them check off their favorite tracks on a chart she’d drawn up. The results had very little in common genre-wise, but, she says, “they all came from a place sparked by loneliness.”

Jepsen thinks of The Loneliest Time as her most experimental project yet. The album ricochets from pop to folk to smooth disco, fully shifting into new genres rather than merely taking inspiration from them. There are plenty of Jepsen-style classics, too. The opening track, “Surrender My Heart,” is a straight shot of epic-sounding pop in which she sings about struggling to be vulnerable with a new partner. “Bends” also lives in the scarier parts of a new relationship (and is true to Jepsen’s recent experience: She just started seeing someone whom she says she’s slowly opening up to). “Here’s a jar of tears I cried,” she sings, “’cause I can feel the darkness sometimes too.” There’s a slow, bitter folk ballad ingeniously titled “Go Find Yourself or Whatever,” which digs painfully into the gutting parts of a breakup instead of making them sound victorious. The title track, which comes at the end of the album, steers back into optimism and sounds as if it should be played at an ’80s roller disco.

I wonder, amid all this exploration, if anything was deemed too out there for the final cut. Jepsen’s previous two records, Dedicated and Emotion, got their own B-side releases. Will The Loneliest Time get a bolder, weirder part two? “We’ll see,” she answers thoughtfully. “I’m not sure if the world’s ready for more of that indulgence.”

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heytherejulietx · 4 years

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K. ~ Fred Weasley

Masterlists

Requests are CLOSED

Notes - Hi! So this is my own entry to my writing challenge. I found this song literally yesterday and after listening to the lyrics I had to use it. Originally I was going to use the song Dear True Love by Sleeping At Last but when I heard this I had to write it. So yeah, I hope you enjoy it as mich as I do! Please leave some nice feedback, I’m a slut for validation.

Warnings - A few hot moments, though no actual smut.

Word count - 4.2k.

Harry Potter tag list - @idont-knowrn @weasleysflowr @angelinathebook @msmimimerton @durmstrange @kashishwrites

Twins tag list - @whizbangs-78

If you’d like to be added to any tag list please just tell me!

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back

We were sitting down in a restaurant waiting for the check

Fred couldn't really distinguish the line that was drawn between when he was friends with Y/N and when he first started liking her. They had been best friends since their first year at Hogwarts; himself, George, and her. They were inseparable. The three did everything together, and the only time they really were apart was when they had to head off into their separate dormitories for the night. As they got older, Fred started to view her as more of a friend. Though if someone was to ask him when he started feeling that way, he couldn't give an answer. Fondness turned into adoration, friendliness turned into flirtatiousness, and friendship turned into a crush. Though Fred never did anything about it throughout his schooling years. He thought she didn't like him in that way, and whilst being bound in the agonising friend-zone hurt him, he respected her decision and just wanted to get happy.

Though, there was still never a day where he looked at her and didn't think she was beautiful. There was never a day when he didn't want to gather her in his arms and never let go of her. There was never a day where he didn't want to pull her closer by the belt-loops on her trousers and kiss her until they were breathless. Sometimes George teased him about how whipped he was, though instead of getting offended he just agreed. He most definitely was whipped, but he loved it.

When the twins had left Hogwarts to start up their shop, Y/N had remained at the school to finish off her year and complete her exams. And whilst the twins - but mostly Fred - missed her horribly for those months - on the day after the summer she'd finished school before, she turned up at the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, asking for a job. And since that point on, it was like they were at school again. They were inseparable. And Fred was more in love with her than ever before.

Though he had never felt more in love with her than he did one early Sunday morning. The shop was closed for some maintenance that was being done, so whilst George was snoozing in his apartment, Fred and Y/N had gone out for breakfast at a muggle café in London. They had already eaten all of their food and were waiting for the check so that they could leave. In that moment Y/N was laughing at something that Fred had said, and he just looked over at her with such adoration and love, only one thought going through his mind.

"I bloody love this woman."

We had made love earlier that day with no strings attached

But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then

Fred could remember the night before that morning so clearly. He couldn't get it out of his head, the way she looked in his bed, clothes discarded over the bedroom floor and her hair splayed out over his pillow, whispering his name breathily as she pulled him impossibly closer. He would die a happy man if that was his last thought. She was just so beautiful, simply the thought of it made butterflies swirl in his stomach and a fond smile to sweep across his lips.

The night before hadn't been planned. At first she had just been coming over Fred's place for dinner as George was busy on his own date with Angelina, though the atmosphere between them was so different that night. Y/N kept shifting in her seat the whole dinner, and whenever they made eye contact, it was intense. Intense in a way that it had never been before. He couldn't remember what he had said to her, but after the dinner was over she flung herself at him mid-conversation and kissed him with a passion that he didn't realise she had.

"Please." She had whined through the kiss, both of them stumbling through the hallway towards Fred's bedroom. "Just tonight, Freddie. No strings attached."

And whilst the promise of no strings attached stung a little, the attraction and lust that had filled him in that moment was undeniable.

"Freddie?"

Fred looked back up and across the table at Y/N, pulling himself out of the love-driven trance that he had found himself in. When he met her gaze he pulled a half-smile onto his lips when looking at the beautiful woman in front of him, and seeing the way she was looking at him.

Oh.

She was looking at him the same way he looked at her multiple times a day. With such a fondness that his heart started racing in his chest and his palms became sweaty.

She liked him back.

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

Fred groaned as he rolled over in the bed and stretched his arm out for his lover, though felt nothing but pillows and the quilt, and not the beautiful girl who belonged there. He pat around the space another few times, just to make sure her frame really wasn't there, before pouting as he flipped over to lay on his back.

"Darling!" He groaned, and didn't miss the distinct giggle across the room from his lover. "Come back, I miss you too much. I can hear my heart breaking more and more with every moment that you're away."

"Stop being so dramatic, I'm just lighting a candle." She scoffed fondly, followed by the click of a lighter being lit.

"You left me to light a bloody candle?" Fred sat up and had to squint his eyes to see her in the dimly lit room. When he spotted her, stood on the other side of the room by their dresser with a now-lit candle, he couldn't help but smile despite the false annoyance he was trying to portray. She was stood there in just her underwear, her hair messy and a bit knotted, but to him she looked perfect. She caught his gaze across the room and sent him a wink, before shrugging her shoulders at his previously spoken statement.

"Hey, they smell nice. This is the one that reminds me of your mum's house." She explained with a soft smile as she put the lighter away in the top drawer of their dresser.

"Why? Because it's in an orange jar?" Fred joked with a small entertained smirk when he watched her roll her eyes.

"No." She giggled. "It smells like cinnamon, like her cooking whenever we go to visit them."

Fred watched as she approached the bed with the candle in her hand, and waited until she had put it down on their bedside table before he smirked and moved his arms around her waist, tugging her into the bed.

"Fred!" She squealed, laughing once he had rolled them so he was leaning over her, his legs bracketing hers as his hands moved down to her waist to start tickling her. She only laughed harder, the noise making him smile fondly as he kept running his fingers across her ribs, pushing away her hands that made a futile attempt at getting him to stop. He kept at it until he could see that she was running out of breath, despite still laughing loudly. In one fluid movement he caught each of her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head against the pillow, his other hand resting on her hip, his thumb brushing along the waistband of her underwear.

"I hate you." She groaned, a slight giggle in her words at the ghosting of his tickles.

"No you dont." Fred smirked, looking down at her with a shit-eating grin. "You love me."

"Yeah, I guess I do." She sighed dramatically, just giggling when Fred had rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"You guess?" Fred raised an eyebrow at her before lowering his head to her neck, leaving light kisses along the already marked skin. He felt her hands wiggle in his grip, though he kept her wrists pressed into the pillows.

"Mhm." She hummed, another quiet giggle leaving her lips.

Fred just smirked against her neck before tilting his head a little, leaving open-mouthed kisses at the base of her throat instead. He felt an especially smug feeling wash over him when he heard her breath catch in her throat once he'd lightly sucked on the exposed skin there, her hands wriggling again.

"Still guess so?" He asked smugly against her neck, being answered with a quiet whine instead of a sarcastic remark.

"Freddie." She whined, pulling against his hand. "Stop being such a tease."

Fred only chuckled, pulling back from her neck to lift his head and meet her lips with his instead, breathing in her exhale once she had sighed into his mouth. "Sorry, love." He muttered, releasing her wrists to rest his hands on her hips, feeling her's immediately find a place in his fiery locks. "Can't help myself."

And on the Lower East Side you're dancing with me now

And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall

One of her favourite things to do was dance. She danced all the time; when she was working, when she was cooking, when she was getting changed. She was always in such a good mood, it was astonishing to him that one person could hold so much happiness in them. Which was why it was so obvious to Fred when she was in a bad mood. She became very quiet, and almost drained.

Fred noticed this when he came home from work on one of the days she had off, and noticed her sat on the sofa with their cat Percy (Fred thought that naming their cat after his older brother was an absolutely hilarious idea, especially since Percy hated cats) still in her pyjamas, which was odd because even if she wasn't going anywhere she would still get dressed for the day.

She greeted him when he had come home, looking over at him as he took his shoes off with a small smile, and Fred could definitely tell that something was wrong when the smile didn't quite meet her eyes as it usually did.

"Hey, love." Fred said softly as he walked into the room, moving to crouch in front of her and gently took her hands. "Are you alright?"

Y/N sighed, shrugging as she looked down at their hands. "I had an argument with my mum this morning when she called. And we just never really argue a lot, so it kind of upset me a bit."

Fred frowned and let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist, standing with her so they could hug properly. "I'm sorry, darling." He said softly, leaving a kiss against her hairline as he held her tighter when feeling her grip on him tighten.

They kept stood like that for a while in silence, with Fred leaving kisses against whatever part of her he could reach as he gently rubbed her back, trying to offer whatever sort of comfort he could give her that would make her feel even just a little bit better. He noticed that as the minutes passed her grip on him subtly got looser and looser, until she was simply holding him normally.

After a few minutes Fred pulled away from the hug with a soft smile, and leaned down to her height so he could press a soft kiss against her lips, and couldn't help but feel a bit better when he felt her smile against his lips. When he'd pulled away she smiled at him softly and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek, before returning to her spot on the sofa beside Percy, who was now asleep.

Though she still didn't look too happy, so after a moment of thought Fred smiled and moved across the room to their muggle CD player - an invention that she had introduced to him a few months back, and since then had loved it so much to be collecting muggle CDs of music that he liked. He found one of their favourite CDs to listen to together and put the disk in before he turned back towards Y/N as the music started floating across the room.

"Could you do me the honour of dancing with me, my love?" Fred bowed before her with one hand stretched out towards her, his words spoken in an over-the-top posh accent.

"Of course, my darling." She giggled, taking his hand and letting him pull her out of her seat to the middle of the room.

Fred's hands fell to rest on her waist as her arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, the two of them swaying to the music together as they kept each other held close. Her head leaned to rest against his chest and she sighed softly, before Fred felt her relax against him. They danced for a while, long enough and peacefully enough for the rest of the world to blur away, and to just be left with the two of them there, the music a beautiful ambience in the background as the two swayed together lovingly.

"I love you, Freddie." She whispered softly, tilting her head to look at him with an expression that made him melt.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He leaned down to capture her soft lips with his own, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach at the simplest touch from her.

Once he had pulled away, he removed one of his hands from her waist and reached to take one of her's instead, his smile growing as he gently spun her twice. Y/N giggled as she spun, falling back into Fred's chest with a light laugh as her hand gently squeezed his. Their dancing soon became almost silly, with her trying to spin Fred a few times - which was only successful when Fred helped her out by ducking since he was a considerable amount taller than her - and Fred dipping Y/N whenever a song ended. They ended up dancing for so long that before they knew it the album had ended. At the end of the song Fred dipped Y/N which caused her to giggle and smile at him - an expression that always made him fall in love with her all over again. Instead of letting her back up he leaned down with her to kiss her instead, smiling against her lips when she had wrapped both arms around his shoulders to pull herself closer and deepen the kiss.

By the evening, when the light outside was a beautiful orange glow that cast an amazing light through their windows, they were both in the bedroom, wrapped up in each other's embrace underneath the sheets.

"Freddie." Y/N whispered, only getting a hum from the man who had his face pressed against the soft skin of her neck, his arms wrapped around her gently. "I need to get up, I'm staying at my sister's to help with the baby."

Fred groaned, holding onto her tighter which made her giggle as she lightly slapped his shoulder. "Come on, please? I can't be late, you know what she's like."

Fred sighed heavily though despite his reluctance to let her go he unwound his arms from her waist and rolled over, pouting when she had turned to look at him, whereas she just giggled quietly at his expression before getting out of bed.

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, love. We've got that double date with George and Angelina, remember?"

Though Fred wasn't really listening to her, instead his attention was her moving around the room to get her underwear, his eyes never leaving her body as she put them on. He sat up when she'd walked past the wall parallel to the window which had flowers painted over it, holding a hand up, despite her still only in her underwear. "Hold still for a moment."

"Fred, I really need to-"

"No no no, it'll only take a moment." Fred searched the draw of his bedside table for a moment before he smiled as he pulled out what he had been looking for - a polaroid camera. It had been a gift from one of their muggle friends the previous christmas, and Fred had been obsessed with it since they had gotten it. He took every opportunity to take a photo of her, and that was a lot of the time.

"Fred, I look awful." She groaned.

"Awfully gorgeous, my love, now stand still for a moment, will you?" He asked, smiling when she had sighed though leaned against the wall and kept still. He raised the camera to his eye, a fond smile crossing his lips at the beauty he was met with - the orange glow of the evening light casting over her exposed skin, making her look like an angel. "Beautiful." He complimented once he had snapped the picture, watching as it was printed at the top of the camera.

"Thank you." She smiled almost bashfully. "Can I get dressed now, love?"

Think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe

Think I like you best when you're just with me

And no one else

Fred always thought she was beautiful. The word ugly or unattractive just wasn't in his vocabulary whenever she was around. Every outfit looked good on her, every colour looked good on her - though his favourite colour on her had to be black. To Fred, it was the colour that made her features stand out the most. It made her eyes seem brighter than ever before. It made her hair shine and almost glow whenever it was under any sort of light. It made every beauty mark and freckle stand out. It made him fall in love with her even more, if that were possible.

Though Y/N didn't always see that, and for the life of him Fred couldn't understand why. She was so beautiful and he thought that it was so obvious, but to her it wasn't.

"Freddie?" She had asked him once from their bedroom, whilst he had been in the kitchen cooking dinner. "Can you come in here for a moment? I need to ask you something."

Fred frowned, noticing almost a hint of nervousness in her voice, though he was almost stunned when he walked into the bedroom and saw what she was wearing. She was dressed in a vintage style button-down black dress, that had a neckline that dipped down low enough so that he could see her collarbones and the top part of her chest, and was short enough so that he could see above her knees to her mid-thigh.

"Do you think this looks alright?" She asked, looking at herself in their bedroom mirror, turning to different angles as she frowned at herself critically. "I got it for that party we're going on but I'm not too sure about it."

Fred shook his head, moving over to stand behind her and moved his arms around her waist, tucking her head underneath his chin as he met her gaze in the mirror. "You look beautiful, darling." He said softly, gently squeezing her in his hold. "You could never look anything less than gorgeous, okay?"

He watched as she smiled bashfully and nodded her head, looking at herself in the mirror again as she leaned against him. "Thank you, Freddie."

"It's no problem, love." He smiled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her neck as she closed her eyes and sighed in content.

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

Fred groaned as he collapsed back onto the bed, watching as Y/N moved across the room to light a few of the many candles she had collected over time. "You're not leaving me for those bloody candles again, are you?" He huffed, watching her, in nothing but her underwear, light the candles like he'd seen her do many times.

"Hey!" She whined, pouting as she turned to look down at him. "Candles are romantic. And they smell nice."

"I'm romantic and I smell nice, what's your point?" He asked with a small smirk, only getting a scoff in return. "Darling come back, I want you now." He groaned overdramatically, flopping back over the bed with a loud sigh.

"You have a left hand, don't you?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. "Use it if you're that impatient." She giggled when turning and seeing his bewildered expression, as he had definitely not expected that sentence to leave her mouth so casually.

"Okay, that's it." Fred moved to get up and crossed the bedroom to be standing behind her, before he wound his arms around her waist and picked her up.

"Fred!" She giggled the complaint as he carried her across the bedroom towards the bed. "No wait, I didn't finish lighting the candles!"

He simply ignored her and gently tossed her onto the bed, which caused her to laugh a lot harder as he got onto the bed and situated himself over her.

"Oh yeah, that's terribly romantic, Freddie." She teased with another giggle as she pushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me, will you?"

And I'm kissing you lying in my room

Holding you until you fall asleep

Fred adored every single aspect of being with Y/N. He could spend the whole day in one of her hugs, or dancing with her, or even just talking with her. And maybe he was a little biased considering he loved her to the moon and back anyways, but everything about her just pulled him in deeper and deeper, like a siren leading a sailor into the deep dark waters. Though one of his favourite moments with her was probably when they shared lazy kisses, whether that was first thing in the morning or the last thing at night. If it was the latter, then that usually entailed after-sex kisses, which Fred adored as much as the sex itself. There was nothing better than soft and light kisses after deep and passionate ones had been shared.

Y/N sighed into Fred's mouth as he rolled them over so she was underneath him, peppering her flushed and sweaty skin with light kisses once he had pulled away, nothing in contrast to what he had previously been leaving against her skin.

"I love you." Fred whispered against her pink cheek, before tilting his head to capture her lips in a soft and gentle kiss, despite it's lightness, still managed to take Fred's breath away.

"I love you too." She smiled softly, and when Fred pulled away enough to look at her he could see her eyes were half closed, and he could see how tired she was.

In one careful movement Fred rolled off of her and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her smaller frame into his larger one so her back would be flush against his chest. He felt her body relax against his as he pulled the covers over the both of them, and tightened his arm around her waist subtly.

"Night Freddie." She whispered, her eyes closing when Fred had left a gentle kiss against her exposed shoulder.

"Goodnight, darling." He whispered, leaving another kiss against her skin before relaxing against the pillows, holding her until she fell asleep.

And it's just as good as I knew it would be

Stay with me I don't want you to leave

Fred often found himself staying up longer than Y/N, though he loved those moments he got to admire her beauty in it's rawest form. He thought she was absolutely stunning, inside and out, and really couldn't have asked for a better person to spend the rest of his life with. Of course, back in Hogwarts when he was crushing on her like crazy, he often imagined what it would be like to be with her intimately. He imagined late night walks by the lake, candlelit dinners, late nights up talking. He had thought at that moment in time that nothing could possibly be better than that. Though he was so so wrong, because the real thing was so much better. She was so much better than whatever version of her he had imagined. Sure, she was probably the best friend he could have asked for in Hogwarts, though her friendship was absolutely nothing compared to her love.

That was one of many reasons why in the bottom of Fred's bedside table was a small red velvet box in, with a small silver diamond ring in. He wanted her to be his forever and he wanted to be her's. He never wanted her to leave.

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you to slip back in bed

When you light the candle

#Spotify #amber’s 300 followers writing challenge #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter one shot #Harry Potter oneshot #Harry Potter fic #Harry Potter fluff #Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley oneshot #Fred Weasley one shot #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley fluff #Fred Weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred and george weasley

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Waterfall Memories by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 3/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers

Chapter 3: The Opposite of Love’s Indifference

She heard pounding in her ears, surrounding her, the sound of water hitting metal above her. She tried to move when pain seared through her, unable to move her arms. She felt something heavy against her hip. She pried her eyes open, trying to focus on anything around her. She peered through heavy crust-filled lids, darkness surrounding her from all sides. She felt something move at her hand, and then something wet and warm slide up her arm. She tried to move her arm and winced in pain.

She groaned loudly and was met with a warm nose that nuzzled into her face. She squinted to see a dog’s face peering at her.

“Hey…” she said hoarsely, trying to remember the name of the dog. Did she have a dog?

Looking around the room, she could make out shapes, wooden siding. It was dark outside. She could see rain pounding against the pane of the window. She was covered by some sort of patch work quilt. Nothing seemed familiar to her. Looking down she was dressed in a flannel shirt, it was big on her, she could tell as she tried to move that it got caught against her body, the excess fabric tangled against her mid-section.

She tried to move her right hand, but the pain caused her to squeak. She was able to raise her left one to her face, she had scratches and bloody marks on her knuckles. It looked like she had been in a fight.

My God did she fight someone? This wasn’t her room. Or was it? She tried to think, remember her room. It was all black, swirling in her brain, almost like she could touch the memory but as soon as it started to come into view it would dissolve into a haze.

Think… She tried to talk to herself and was met with oblivion. What the hell was her name?

She heard a noise in the other room, just outside the door that was cracked open, letting in the moonlight just enough to see movement. The dog sat up on the bed and she squeezed her eyes shut, lying still.

The door slid open with a mournful creak, a noise that gave her goosebumps until she heard footsteps and her blood ran cold.

“Hey Jolly, everything ok in here?”

The voice spoke, an accent, she didn’t recognize the voice. She didn’t know anyone with an accent. Did she? Dammit why couldn’t she remember anything?

She felt something make contact with her arm and tried not to flinch. A hand, rough and calloused touched her forehead. “She’s feeling a bit too warm, boy. That’s not good. Dammit.” Hard footsteps pounded out of the room and her eyes popped open, looking around nervously. She needed to get out of bed before he came back.

She bit her lip as she pushed herself to a seated position with the hand that wasn’t causing her to cry out. The dog next to her jumped off the bed, running over to where she was trying to stand up. “Shh.” She whispered as he started to bark. “Quiet.” She held on to the bed and tentatively stepped down with her feet, wincing and dropping to her knees as the pain shot up her leg. She could hear noise in the other room. She crawled with a pained expression to the corner of the room, curling into a ball.

The dog ran to her, sniffing her face and licking her cheek. “Please…” She pleaded. She gripped the dresser next to her and dragged herself to her feet, grabbing a small pot sitting next to her and lifted it above her head with her arm. She was getting dizzy, her vision blurring. Not now!

Suddenly the door opened again and a man with dark hair stopped short, staring at the bed with wide eyes. Emma lunged toward him, falling over as the pot made contact with his shoulder and he grunted, before reaching out and wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet and hoisting her to his shoulder. She pounded her fist against his back. “Put me down.”

“Gladly.” He said angrily as he tossed her back on the bed. “Bloody hell, woman, what are you trying to do?”

“Get away from me.” She screamed, scrambling to the top of the bed, and curling herself around the dog that was sitting next to her.

“Would you relax.” He stood upright, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re tearing all the bandages I just changed for you.”

She looked down at her arm, the material hanging from the limb that was starting to go numb. “Who are you?”

He put his hands up in front of him. “Just calm down. My names Killian, I found you yesterday. I’m just trying to help.”

“Found me. More like kidnapped me.” She screamed.

“Kidnapped you?” He barked incredulously. “You think I kidnapped you? Look I have no idea what happened to you, love, but it wasn’t me that did it.” He sighed.

“I’m not your love, you sick psycho.”

“Oh, I’m not in the mood for this.” He turned his back to her, pacing the room beside the bed. “I knew I should have left you out there. Good deeds only get you grief.” He ran his hand through his hair and stopped pacing.

“Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Bloody hell woman, are you listening to me? I didn’t take you. I have no idea how you got here and trust me; I’d love to let you the hell out of here, but in case you didn’t notice…” He pointed angrily to the window. “We’re in the middle of a goddamned storm. The roads are already washed out. Even if I wanted to, and trust me woman, I want to, I couldn’t get you in to town.”

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t lie, love. It’s the truth. But feel free to start walking if you want to be that persistent. I’m hours from the closest town.”

“You’re going to murder me, aren’t you?”

“Oh for…” The man turned away and stormed toward the door. She peered from her spot on the bed into the other room until she saw him walking toward her. He had a shotgun. She held her hands over her face.

“Please don’t shoot me.”

He exhaled loudly. “I’m not going to shoot you.” He shoved the gun into her hands and stepped back with his hands in the air. “My name is Killian Jones. I am just as aggravated as you are by your presence. I live out in this god forsaken cabin, alone…” He said loudly. “I found you yesterday floating in the damn creek and brought you back here because you were injured.” He leaned against the wall. “If you want to shoot me, please go ahead…it’s not the worst you could do.”

Her hands shook as she tried to hold the shotgun in her hand, it was heavy, and she wasn’t able to lift it with only one working appendage. She dropped it onto the bed with a groan.

“Where are we?” She said quietly.

“Specifically? Off the grid, but we’re in Maine.”

“Maine?” She shook her head trying to remember why she was in Maine. Did she live in Maine? That didn’t feel right.

“Can you tell me your name, Lass?”

Her eyes looked around the room, she had a headache the longer she tried to access the part of her brain that told her the answer to his question. Dammit, it was a simple question. Why couldn’t she remember? “I…”

He started to move from the wall, and she flinched. He stood in place again and held a hand out in front of him. “Sorry, your name?”

“I don’t know.” She whispered. “I don’t remember.”

“Bloody hell.”

~*~

Killian stared at the woman, cowering on his bed with a shot gun sitting beside her and his bloody dog protecting her. The woman had no idea who she was. This was not what he needed right now!

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He growled, tugging on the tendrils of his hair in frustration.

“I just…I can’t remember my name.”

“How’d you get out here?”

“If I can’t remember my name, why do you think I would remember how I got here?” She said angrily, a tear falling onto her cheek that she quickly reached up to swipe away. She looked down at her clothes. “Was I wearing this?” Her face scrunched up in something resembling disgust or distaste which immediately offended him.

“Hey, it was better than what I found you in!”

She narrowed her eyes. “You undressed me?”

“Trust me woman, you weren’t exactly dressed.” He dug around in the drawer beside the bed, grabbing the black material he found her in and tossed it onto the bed beside her.

Her eyes widened. “I was wearing that?”

“Would you prefer to be wearing it now because I can take back my clothes if they don’t please you, princess.”

“I didn’t say I hated them, it’s just not something I would wear.”

“How would you know; you don’t even know who you are, much less what the bloody hell you would wear!” He yelled, stopping short, and staring at the woman. “You’re being ridiculous.” He spat.

“I’m being ridiculous?” She stuttered, her eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Aye.” He said simply, turning, and walking out of the room.

As soon as he got to the couch, he stood in the middle of the room trying to catch his breath. Why couldn’t she just go back to sleep, the woman was infuriating. What the hell was he supposed to do with a woman he pulled out of the bloody river, with no memory of who she was or where she came from, in the middle of a goddamned storm?

He heard the woman cry out from the other room. “Bloody hell.” He pushed the door open to his bedroom again and saw the woman sitting on the floor next to the bed, holding her leg.

“Jesus woman, you shouldn’t be walking on that leg.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Are you always this stubborn or is this something you’ve picked up recently?”

She frowned. “I…”

“Apologizes, Lass, I’m sure this is confusing for you.”

“I just want to go home.” She cried and Killian tried to push down the feeling of sorrow he felt for the woman.

“Well, until we figure out where that is, I’m sure you’re starving, you do eat right?” She shrugged. “Can I make you some food, maybe?”

“I don’t know.” She sobbed.

“Hey, look, I’m not good with crying women. Honestly haven’t a clue what I’m ‘spose to do at this point. How about you get back in the bed and I’ll make you something and we’ll go from there?” She sniffled beside him, he turned his head to glance at her, her hair still dirty from the creek bed. He coughed into his hand and then stood, reaching down tentatively to lift her back into the bed.

“Jolly will keep you company until I return.” He patted the dog on the head and left the room. Standing at the kitchen counter he stared out at the darkened skies, full sheets of rain slamming against the tin roof above him. They were going to be in for a long couple of days.

“Shit.” He swore. What the hell was he going to do now? What if someone came looking for this woman who now had no idea who the hell she was? He couldn’t just drop her in town now, who would believe a thing he said.

Digging through his food, he grabbed bread and a few slices of cheese. Who didn’t like grilled cheese?

He went about making food for them both, his stomach was growling though he wasn’t sure if it was from pure adrenaline of the past few moments or because he realized he hadn’t eaten since he found the woman. Either way he was suddenly famished.

He sat the sandwich on a plate with a plank of wood and a glass of water and carried it back to the room. He sat it on her lap and gestured for her to eat before turning to leave the room.

“You’re just going to leave me here to eat alone.”

He paused at the door, his shoulders sagging before he walked out of the room, grabbed his plate and stood in the doorway. Begrudgingly, he took a bite of his sandwich and caught the woman’s eye as she tentatively touched her food with her fingers. He took another bite as she brought the food to her mouth and slipped the food between her lips.

She paused and then chewed her food as if she were thinking about it. Tasting it for the first time.

“That’s good.” She said between bites.

“Yeah well it’s the go-to food of a four-year-old.”

She glared at him for a moment before taking another bite. “Where’s your kid then?”

“Excuse me?” He tensed.

“I figured you had a four-year-old.” She held up the sandwich.

“Well, I don’t.” He said sourly and walked back out of the room. Tossing his plate in the sink as he shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

He sat down on the couch, staring at the fire stirring in the hearth in front of him, a sad frown encompassing his face.

“Excuse me.”

He groaned at the sound of her voice. God he just wanted to be alone. “What can I help you with, your highness.” He said sourly.

“My leg hurts.”

He groaned and pulled himself from his spot and stood in the doorway. “Yeah, I think it’s dislocated. I was waiting for you to wake up so I could pop it back in.”

“Will that make it stop hurting?”

“Might lessen the pain, yes. But…”

“But what?”

“But you aren’t going to like it, love.” He shrugged.

~*~

Emma stared at the man in the doorway, she didn’t care what it was going to take, she just wanted the pain in her leg to stop. “Just do it, I can’t handle this anymore.”

“As you wish.” He turned and walked away from her, back into the other part of the house.

“Hey, where are you going?” She yelled, trying to crane her neck to watch where he was going. He returned with a bottle and two glasses. He sat the glasses on the drawer and poured a hefty amount into both.

“What the hell is this?” She stared at him before gasping. “Is this where you get me drunk and rape me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Try something new love, it’s called trust.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“How do you know that? You have no idea who you are!” He bit his lip and handed her the glass. “Drink up, love.”

“Why am I drinking this?”

“Because normally a doctor would give you some hefty drugs for this procedure, and in case you didn’t notice, we’re in the middle of nowhere. So…” He put the glass into her hand and wrapped her fingers around it. “You’re gonna wanna numb the pain.”

She gulped and held the glass to her lips, smelling the strong scent that hit her nose. “What is this?”

“Rum, and a bloody waste of it, if you ask me.”

She took a sip and felt the burning liquid trail down her throat as she choked. “Oh God.”

“Good girl.” He smirked.

“If I’m drinking to numb the pain, what the hell are you drinking for?” She asked as he tipped the glass back and swallowed everything the glass held.

“Well, I’ve never done this before. Need to calm my nerves.” He tilted his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Keep drinking, Lass.”

She titled the glass back, draining it of its liquid and swallowing the burning drink until the glass was empty. He filled her glass again and she stared at him wide eyed as she tipped it back and continued to drink. When her head started to spin he took the glass from her hand, held it to his lips and finished what was left there.

“Alright, love, lie back.” Her head was heavy and her vision blurry as she lay back on the pillow. He walked over to the dresser, reached in the drawer, and pulled something from it. Turning around she saw he was holding a leather belt in his hands. “Ok put this in your mouth.”

“What?” She exclaimed. “Why?”

“To bite down on. This is going to hurt.”

She took it from him, staring at it in her hands wondering how any of this had happened. His hands were on her waist, pulling her pants from her body and she pushed away from him. “What the hell!”

“Look, I can’t do this with your pants on. I need to be able to see your leg.” He stared at her with a look of annoyance on her face. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, love.”

“Hey! That doesn’t mean I want you staring at me now.”

“I’m going to be staring at your leg. This isn’t on my top 10 list of things to do either.”

“Fine!” She relaxed onto the bed, letting him pull the pants from her legs, ignoring the cold breeze running across her lower half that made her realize that she was naked underneath the pants she was wearing. He paused, leaning over to grab a blanket from the corner of the room and draping it over her lower half, leaving only her leg exposed. “Thank you.”

“Ok, bite down.” He warned, running his hand up her leg.

“You said you’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I’ve seen it done, but…look just bite down, please.” He was agitated with her and she put the leather in her mouth and bit down. His hand ran up her leg, she didn’t feel the pain as badly as she had before the rum, but she knew the pain was about to come.

She wasn’t wrong. The moment she heard the click, she felt like electricity blinded her as it ran up her leg and the pain burned into her entire body. She tried to keep her eyes open, staring at the man who was now watching her with an intensity that unsettled her. Blue eyes swirling in her vision until they went to black.

#waterfall memories #stacy's fics #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction || Night Terrors [Request]

A/N: I hope this helps you feel a little better hunny and if you need somebody to talk to I’m always here for you!!!

The Tae one is based on a book I’ve been thinking of adapting into a fanfiction for him or bang chan but I’m not sure if people would like it?

Seokjin:

Jin was coming up to bed after coming in late from the studio when he heard you screaming, he dashed up the stairs and into the shared bedroom he had with you to find you scrambling toward the headboard and holding your head.

"Hey, hey, hey!" He called out dropping his bag on the floor and getting onto the bed beside you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders where he started rocking you back and forth in his arms.

"I'm right here baby, it's not real. It's okay." He whispered over and over again in your ear, kissing the top of your head as you began to cry about the night terror you had just been experiencing.

"J-Jin it felt so real." You managed to say between the broken sobs and he held you tighter to him, holding your hand over his heart so you could feel it beating.

"This right now is real, this here." He told you as he turned your head up to look at him,

"Look at me, I'm real. This is real." He assured you, you stared back into his eyes looking at him as he smiled down at you.

"You're here." You breathed laying your head back down on his chest and breathing in his familiar scent that had you relax instantly and your body eased into his and he laid you both down not caring that he was fully dressed as long as you were relaxing and laying beside him, he began drawing small patterns into your skin to help you relax that little bit more and he kissed your shoulder.

"Do you need anything?" He whispered noticing that you weren't falling back to sleep but he knew how hard it was for you to get back to sleep after experiencing a night terror.

"Can we get hot chocolate?" He nodded sitting you both up in the bed and going to get you one of his hoodies and a pair of your leggings,

"The fresh air will be nice." He told you one you were dressed and ready to leave, you did this whenever you had a night terror. He would take you out of the house for a little while, there was a small cafe right around the corner from your apartment which was open 24 hours a day so you could always count on them for a good hot chocolate. Jin linked his hands with yours as you walked down the stairs and out of your apartment door, he didn't question you on what happened because he knew you would talk about it whenever you felt ready and he didn't want to push you into anything that you didn't want to talk about yet.

Yoongi:

Yoongi was working in his home studio trying to get some last-minute work done when he heard your sobs,

"Y/n?!" His voice was full of panic and he jumped up from his desk not caring that he'd sent the chair flying into the bookshelf behind him. He rushed to the bedroom where he found you crying while curled up in a ball on the bed,

"Y/n?!" He asked coming into the room and sitting behind you, you said nothing but turned around so you could lay against his lap and he began softly playing with your hair to try and comfort you in any way that he could.

"What happened?" You shook your head not being able to find the words to explain what it was about and he wrapped his arms around you so you were now sitting in his lap,

"It's alright, none of it was real okay?" You knew it wasn't but it still didn't make it any easier.

"W-What were you doing?" You questioned trying to think of something to distract your mind and he told you he was working on a new song.

"Can I hear it?" You whispered to him looking up at him and he smiled down at you nodding and letting you get up off the bed and walk to his studio inside the house and he smiled as you got into his big leather desk chair and rolled yourself to his desk. He grabbed one of the other chairs that he kept in the room for the boys or you whenever you came to work with him and he clicked on the newest song hitting play, you slipped on the large headphones he always wore and Yoongi began watching your face for a reaction.

"Whoa." You whispered nodding your head back and forth to the beat as you listened to the music, then the lyrics started and he could tell by the look on your face that you liked it. Your eyes were glowing as you stared at the screen before turning to look at him with a shocked expression,

"Yoongi it's-" You couldn't even find the words to express what the song was like but it was perfect in every way shape and form.

"You like it?" You nodded putting down the earphones and asking him who it was about,

"It's about my love for someone close to me, and how much I love them." He wrapped leant closer to you before kissing you on the lips and chuckling as you began to hide your face from him feeling shy.

Hoseok:

Hoseok woke up to feel you shaking beside him, he assumed you were just cold so he wrapped the quilt around you but once his hand came into contact with your skin he ripped the covers away from you and went to get a cold flannel for you from the bathroom.

"Baby, baby come on wake up." He whispered shaking you softly and waiting for you to come out of it naturally and when you did he scooped you into his arms applying the cold flannel to your skin and letting you relax back against his arms. He'd done this a million times before with you so he knew how to get you to calm down, he kept the cold flannel on your skin to try and bring your temperature down while you held onto his arms tightly.

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." He repeated in your ear knowing that you needed to hear that from him and that it was true,

"You alright?" You shook your head and he kissed the top of your head ignoring your groaning and moaning about you being covered in sweat,

"I don't care that you're sweating, we'll have a shower. You alright?" You nodded and he pulled you closer keeping you close to him so he could comfort you while you told him what had happened in the night terror.

Namjoon:

That morning you'd gone with Namjoon to the studio since it was your week off from work and you wanted to spend time with him, you took your favourite book to keep you busy while he was working but you'd fallen asleep after an hour being there on the sofa. Namjoon smiled turning to see you asleep on his sofa clutching the book close to your chest as you mumbled in your sleep, he turned back to the computer for a second before the mumbles turned into whimpers and then the whimpers turned to screams and he rushed over to you abandoning the work he was doing and holding you in his arms, shifting your head so it was on his thigh.

"Namjoon?!" You cried out when you woke up to him kissing your forehead and whispering something you couldn't hear,

"Shh, it's okay." He moved you closer to him and he began rocking you in his arms whispering sweet nothings to you to help slow your heart rate down to its normal beating pattern and once you were calm and breathing normally he turned so you were laid between his thighs and he was sat against the arm of the sofa.

"Do you want to talk about you?" You shook your head and so he kissed the top of your head while you linked your hands together wanting to just have him hold you a little while longer.

"I'm not going anywhere." He whispered in your ear as he felt you tense up when he went to move,

"Sorry-"

"Don't say sorry, I love you." He whispered giving you another kiss on the cheek before laying his head in your neck and watching you playing with his fingers.

Jimin:

He knew he was late home and he was expecting you to be in bed waiting for him but what he hadn't expected was to come home and see you crying on the sofa with one of his hoodies wrapped around you as you cried into your hands.

"Y/n?!" He yelled rushing over to you and questioning what was wrong, you'd only just moved in together and it was your first night alone in the house which was scary enough but then you went and had a night terror along with it and woke up to see Jimin wasn't with you.

"Another one? I thought we were making progress on them?" You whimpered and he sat beside you on the sofa laying you both down so you were laying on his chest. He began rubbing circles in the small of your back while you explained what had happened, he was comforting you in any way that he could, kissing the top of your head whenever you found it difficult to talk about something.

"I'm so sorry baby," He whispered when you finally finished and broke down into another set of tears, you hid your head in his chest and he began to tell you all of the love he had for you. Telling you that he was always going to be there for you, reminding you that the terror hadn't been real but what was happening with him was.

"Do you want to get something to eat? Drink?" You shook your head yawning as you felt tired and he smiled softly standing you both up and going towards the stairs so you could both go to sleep together.

Taehyung:

Taehyung usually snuck in through your bedroom every night to help you fall asleep and sleep without the night terrors you experienced but you'd had a fight over him flirting with everyone that day and he hadn't shown up like he always did. He would normally climb through the bedroom window to come and spend the night beside you. He was your brothers best friend and you didn't get along at all outside of the bedroom, but it wasn't anything sexual. He would just fall asleep holding you and it had been that way since you were kids, it was how you slept without waking up sobbing, screaming and sweating.

"Shit," Taehyung whispered panicked as he heard your broken cries coming from your room, he was walking towards your brother's room when he heard you and he opened the door and spotted you clutching onto the pillow and whimpering in your sleep. He climbed into the bed behind you and as soon as his arms wrapped around your waist he noticed your body relax and you stopped whimpering.

"Tae?" You whispered rolling over to look up at him, he was in jeans and a t-shirt looking down at you,

"What's up?" You stared at him before leaning up and kissing him gently on the lips,

"Thank you for coming back." You whispered to him before tucking your head into his chest and listening to his heartbeat, he kissed the top of your head and you hummed not wanting him to ever leave you again.

"I heard you when I came to see Yoongi, you alright?" You shook your head and he only held you tighter and closer to him trying to and get you back to sleep, he knew how hard it was for you to sleep so he was going to do the best he could to have you well-rested.

"Don't leave me again." You begged and he linked your fingers together bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently,

"I promise I won't." He whispered back to you before closing his eyes and trying to sleep beside you praying your brother wouldn't walk through the door and see you both laying there.

Jungkook:

Jungkook was doing his best to stay quiet from beside you, he was gaming while you were curled up beside him on the sofa finally getting the first time in a week. You could never sleep without him being next to you and he'd been so busy all week that he hadn't been there and your night terrors got worse to the point where you dreaded going to sleep.

"Shit. No." Jungkook groaned moving to the end of the bed so he could see the screen and concentrate harder on the game he was playing.

He hadn't even noticed that you'd woken up until he turned around to see you staring at the bed blankly,

"Y/n?" He whispered dropping the controller and turning to come back to you, you blinked and he knew that you were in shock over what had happened during your night terror.

"Jungkook?" You asked turning to look at him with tears in your eyes and he took you into his arms shuffling back against the headboard and keeping you as close to him as he could get you to him.

"You- You left and then I erm-" He told you not to think about it and you closed your eyes trying to focus on anything but had happened,

"Listen to my voice okay, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." You nodded and he began to sing softly in your ear to try and calm you down from everything, hearing him and feeling him beside you made you feel a lot better and you closed your eyes tightly listening to his heartbeat and then focused on his singing letting it help you relax.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @chimchims-stories-and-tales @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @rjsmochii

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jamaisjoons · 6 years

Text

bloom | pjm

Summary: Jimin grows flowers in the garden of your chest wrought from the pain of your unrequited love. Hanahaki AU.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff... lot’s of angst oh boy

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Park Jimin in general, switch!reader, switch!Jimin, light fingering, thigh riding, non-protective sex, creampies, and yet sweet, soft sex?

A/N: I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t inspired by the lyrics ‘In this dream that won’t ever come true, I grew a flower that couldn’t be blossomed’ from Fake Love

Plant

def. put a seed in the ground so it can grow

It’s a cold winter day in Seoul, Korea. The streets are covered in a thick, soft blanket of snow that began settling as soon as the bustle of people that trudged through decreased. Now, there were barely any people outside, you were sure that if you looked out, you could count the number of people easily; which was completely different to what Seoul was usually like. Snowflakes still fall leisurely and the windows are frosted over, the icy glass showing warm scenes of children playing in the snow, or couples walking hand in hand through rows of plum blossom trees that have been stripped bare, instead covered in crystalline flowers made of ice.

You don’t really care to look out, instead you find yourself seated on a sofa, legs tucked under your butt, cup of hot chocolate in your hands, keeping you warm as you snuggle further into the warm quilt wrapped around you. You’re currently in the BTS household, enjoying a happy Christmas day as you sip your hot chocolate and leisurely read your book.

You had been introduced to BTS two and a half years ago, three years after their debut when you’d reconnected with your best friend, Hoseok. You say reconnected, when really you hadn’t lost touch. By reconnected, you just meant seeing each other and speaking a lot more regularly than the previous years. It had just been difficult keeping up regular correspondence with his busy schedule but the two of you had tried, speaking whenever he got some free time. Despite the change from hanging out with him almost twenty-four seven to only being able to speak to him for a few minutes a week, your friendship had somehow stayed strong. The two of you had grown up in Gwangju together and had always been as thick as thieves. Hoseok was like the brother you never had, the only real family you’d had left.

The first few years had been hard for them, you knew it. Hoseok would complain about the long nights and the less than pleasant sleeping arrangements. Sharing a single, cramped room with six other strangers was probably never going to be ‘pleasant’ but somehow it worked. You remembered nights when Hoseok would go on and on about each of the members, all their quirks and habits, things he loved about them and even things about them that annoyed him. Five years down the line however, those very same boys were practically family and you had never seen Hoseok smile as bright as he did when he was with them or even when he was performing.

A year ago, when you’d finally finished university and gained your doctorate, you’d moved to Seoul from Gwangju. Hoseok had been over the moon, bouncing around excitedly at how you’d finally be in the same city and be able to see each other more often. That is, as often as he could fit you in around his busy schedule. You had also finally met the boys, all of you laughing as if you’d known each other for years. Which, you supposed, you had. Hoseok had told you everything he could about them and vice versa. In turn, you had introduced Hoseok to your own best friends. The four girls who you had met during your time in university, who had become your sisters by choice.

So that brought you to today, two and a half years later, a Christmas day surrounded by the ones you loved the most. The smell of delicious food fills the air, Seokjin’s cooking making you salivate as he yells at his girlfriend, Sooji to stop touching things. You roll your eyes at that, wondering why she even bothers. She’s completely useless in the kitchen. You remember that one time she had tried cooking noodles at university but had somehow forgotten the actual noodles. You weren’t even sure how she’d managed that. You stifle a laugh when Seokjin finally kicks her out the kitchen, watching as she scowls before making her way to her other lover, sitting beside Yoongi as he plays the piano. Hae and Taehyung sit on the floor, the couple playing with Yeontan as the pup happily bounces about the two of them, enjoying the attention he’s receiving.

Hoseok’s raucous laughter joins the dulcet notes of the piano as he straddles his girlfriend, fingers wriggling across her sides and drawing out wild laughter from her. She hopelessly calls out to her other boyfriend, Namjoon, for help but her calls fall on the deaf years of the leader currently sitting opposite you; head so far buried into his book that he downs out the commotion around you. From the other side of you, Suri and Jungkook yell and swear, the two of them competing in what looks like a seriously intense match on Overwatch, Jungkook scowling at his girlfriend when she somehow beats him at his favourite game, accusing her of cheating with a pout.

“____?” Someone calls and you’re broken out of your thoughts as you turn around, smiling brightly at the newcomer. Park Jimin stands behind the sofa, peering at you with a large smile that has his eyes wrinkling.

“Jiminie! Hi, is there something you need? Where did you disappear off to?” You ask, shifting slightly when he sits right next to you.

“I actually went to go get my Christmas present for you” Jimin says and your eyes widen in surprise.

“You got me another present? You really didn’t have to” You said shyly, a small smile on your face. All of you had already exchanged gifts; and usually, all of you only exchange one gift between each other. You watched Jimin shrug as he handed you the beautifully wrapped present. the blue foil wrapping glistened in the warm light, gold glitter snowflakes imprinted on them twinkling as you took the present from him, eyeing the intricate bow on the top, wondering if he’d tied it himself. Jimin had always loved giving and wrapping presents.

“I just saw it, and it made me think of you” Jimin said with a shrug, urging you to open it. You carefully pulled the bow apart, peeling away the wrapping paper as you unwrapped the present. You felt your heart quicken slightly at the sight of the jewellery box, carefully opening it with shaky hands before letting out a soft gasp. There, nestled in the velvet box, was a delicate gold chain with a small flower pendant studded with incredibly small diamonds, that sparkled whenever it caught the light.

“Jimin, I-. This is too much” You choked out, trying to hand it back to him. Jimin simply shakes his head, refusing to take it back.

“____, it’s a gift! Like I said, I just saw it and it just made me think of you. Here, let me put it on” Jimin said, cautiously picking up the necklace, gesturing you to turn around. You slowly do so, pulling your hair into a high ponytail so it’s out of his way.

Jimin carefully places it around the column of your throat before lowering it slightly, so the pendant rests between your collarbones, at the base of your throat. You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush softly against the bare skin of your neck as he clasps the necklace. You release a breath you weren’t sure you were holding when he finally backs away, smiling brightly as he takes in the sight of the pendant against your skin. He lets out a small nod of approval, smile widening until his slightly crooked teeth are showing.

“I knew it’d look good on you! As if it was just made for you” Jimin chimes, but you barely hear it. Instead, your thoughts are occupied with nothing but him. You had always known he was gorgeous, a male Adonis walking the earth.

But for the first time in two and a half years, you reallylook at Jimin.

His hair is back to its natural dark colouring and despite the amount of times it’s been bleached, it still shines with a certain soft silken quality that you almost find yourself becoming jealous. It currently has a slight curl to it, falling in waves into his eyes and you can just imagine the cute little birthmark that it’s currently hiding. Your eyes dart over his face, taking in his beautiful warm olive skin; he’s currently barefaced, his cheeks tinged a slight pale rose colour, cheekbones almost glowing in the warmth of the light. His eyes are a sharp almond shape and heavily lidded, deep dark coffee irises peep at you through them, eyes twinkling with joy. You find yourself thinking you like them best when they turn into slits, eyes crinkling in his signature eye smile, because he looks best when he’s happy.

His slightly wide nose sits between his adorable cheeks. They’re currently raised high, like small little mochis under his eyes. You want to reach over and pinch them, because really, how could anyone resist wanting to squish Park Jimin’s cheeks? They’re the cutest thing known to man and even the hardest of criminals would coo at them. You’re sure of that. Your eyes trace down to his full, plush lips. His upper lip is a perfect cupid’s bow and somehow his bottom lip is even fuller than his top. They look incredibly soft and pillowy and you find yourself wanting to pull them between your teeth and nibble at them. But you can’t. So instead, you trail your gaze towards the angular and well-defined curve of his jawline.

When your perusal is done, you conclude that Park Jimin is the most beautiful human to ever walk the earth. Between his ethereal looks, handsome facial features and adorable expressions, he really is an angel.

And it’s like you’re seeing Park Jimin for the first time.

Your chest constricts with a slight discomfort, but you brush it off because you don’t realise the significance of the ache.

You don’t realise that the seeds of love have been planted deep within your ribcage.

Germinate

def. a seed beginning to grow

A week later is the next time you see Jimin. It’s at a New Year’s Party that the boys are throwing. There are a few idols around that you recognise, but many of them you don’t. Everyone is dressed to the nines and despite your own ensemble consisting of a beautifully crafted forest green floor length dress (a gift from Hoseok, because the man wouldn’t take no for an answer and lovedto spoil you) you can’t help but feel insecure.

Female idols are all around you, their slim and stunning bodies putting yours to shame. But it’s not only that. They look so put together, make up expertly done so you can’t even tell they’re wearing any, skin radiating with a youthful glow and hair falling in locks of silk down their backs. Somehow everything about them is flawless, from their nails, to their hair, to their laughs. Everything is somehow perfect, and they hold themselves with a certain grace you know you’d never have. Somehow, it feels as if you don’t belong here, as if you’re intruding in on a world that will never really accept you.

“____, are you okay? You zoned out a bit” Sooji calls, and you turn to one of your best friends. Her face is morphed into a look of concern but you simply brush her off.

“Oh sorry, I’m fine really. I just spaced out, where are Seokjin and Yoongi?” You ask but she shrugs, letting out a small huff.

“Seokjin is stuffing his face with whatever hors d’oeuvres he can find and you know Yoongi, these kinds of things aren’t exactly his cup of tea. There’s too many people and it’s too noisy” Sooji explains, face softening at the thought of her boyfriend locked away in his room and you nod, sympathising for Yoongi because really, he did try to mingle and interact with others. But sometimes, the crowds and loudness were too much and he needed quiet time to recuperate.

“Oh, damn it, I can see Seokjin and he looks like he’s about to take a bite out of the cake before it’s served. I’ll see you around” Sooji called, waving at you before running off to stop her boyfriend. You rolled your eyes as you watch her scold Seokjin, the latter’s cheeks full of food, making him look oddly like a hamster.

You let out a little sigh before looking around, trying to figure out who to join. There aren’t many people you know here other than your best friends and the seven boys hosting. But as usual, they’ve split into couples. Suri, Hae, Jungkook and Taehyung are speaking to some idols, laughing up a storm and your heart grips with envy at the way the boys hold their respective girlfriends, their fingers rubbing their backs soothingly every so often. It’s a mindless touch, you’re sure they don’t even realise they’re doing it. But you suppose that when you’re in a comfortable relationship, sometimes touches lose their shallow meaning and you do so for no other reason than the deeper comfort it provides you.

Sooyun is dancing with Hoseok and Namjoon and none of them are taking it seriously, you can tell by Hoseok’s highly exaggerated movements and the way Namjoon’s expressions change. Sooyun laughs out loud when Namjoon pulls a particularly racy face as he thrusts his hips, her body falling into Namjoon’s, shaking with giggles. You notice Namjoon’s slightly pink tinged cheeks, but watch as he brushes off his own embarrassment in keeping his girlfriend entertained.

“They’re a cute couple, right?” A voice chimed and you jumped slightly, startled out of your thoughts for the second time that night. You turn to Jimin, brows furrowed slightly before smacking him.

“Jimin! You terrified me, don’t just pop out of nowhere like that” You scolded, Jimin only giggling at you.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, you were just staring really intensely at Sooyun-ah, Hobi-hyung and Namjoon-hyung” Jimin laughed and you shrugged.

“You’re not wrong, they do make a cute couple. But sometimes I really feel like I’m third wheeling this entire group… or well eleventh wheeling” You replied as you counted the couples, Jimin laughing loudly.

“Well then count me as the twelfth wheel. But I get your frustration, it’s annoying when everyone is paired up” Jimin grins and you feel your heart flutter slightly. He’s dressed in a dark blazer, embroidered with intricate patterns made of silver thread, the look finished with a simple but tight-fitting white shirt and black slacks. His hair is dyed white blonde, in preparation for their newest comeback, and his eyes sparkle, as if they hold a constellation of stars within them. He looks as amazing as he always does, kind of like a fairy-tale prince come to life.

“Yeah it does, especially when they all start trying to eat each other’s faces off” You joke and he grins at you brightly, covering his face with his small, slightly chubby hands before leaning into you slightly.

“____! Don’t let the hyungs or Taehyungie and Jungkookie hear you say that!” Jimin admonished and you feel your heart gripe slightly, the tinkling sound of his laugh filling your eardrums. You’re sure his laugh causes flowers to bloom and angels to sing. You don’t think you’ve ever heard something more beautiful.

“Damn, it’s getting loud! Let’s go outside” Jimin says and before you can protest, he grabs you by the hand and drags you towards the garden. You suppress a slight shiver, it’s still winter in Seoul and the night air is crisp, the hairs on your neck prickling as goosebumps crawl over your skin.

“Sorry for dragging you out here, it’s probably not the most ideal considering the weather but it means we can speak without having to yell. Here you go” Jimin says, shrugging off his blazer before wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Jimin wait, you’ll be cold” You began protesting, trying to hand it back to him, but Jimin just shrugs you off.

“It’s fine! You need it more than me and it’s the least I could do since I basically pulled you out here. That dress is really pretty by the way, I thought it’d look nice on you. The colour really flatters your skin tone” Jimin compliments; your body stiffens and you look at him with wide eyed curiosity.

“Seok bought me this dress, how would you have known it would look nice on me?” You inquire and even under the light dusting of his foundation, you can see his peeks tinge a beautiful pink, a shade of soft peony that has you wanting to reach out and squeeze them.

“Yeah, I was there when he bought it… he said he really needed help shopping for your Christmas present” Jimin confessed.

“I… thank you. It was a good pick” You thanked, your hair falling into your eyes slightly. But before you react, Jimin is already reaching over for you. His fingers brush your hair, tucking it behind your ears.

You suck in a sharp breath and this time, when you shiver, it’s not due to the cold. His fingers are warm against your skin and even that slight skimming of his skin against yours sends tingles down your nerves. Jimin has always been very touchy feely, skin ship is not something he avoids. In fact, you’ve lost count of the times he’s brushed your hair out of your eyes before, lost count of the amount of times you’ve cuddled up against each other or held hands. No, Jimin is very big on skin ship and it means nothing. Which is why you try not to over think the action.

But you can’t help yourself.

Once again, your chest aches, right where your heart should be. This time, it’s a sharp ache and you’re not sure what it means. It’s gone before you can think it over and you brush it off.

But once again, the significance of the ache is lost on you.

You don’t realise that the seed of love has begun to germinate.

Root

def. to grow roots

Over the next few months, it’s comeback season. The boys are everywhere promoting and yet despite how busy they are, you still see them more often than not. The girls are always dragging you to their promotions, standing in the back as you all watch them either perform on stage, or in a crowd during their tour. Each time, each performance, each interview, you find yourself drawn to Jimin. You hang off his every one of his words, almost squealing when he speaks English perfectly. He’s improved a lot, you note.

You find yourself enraptured by the way his body moves when he dances, each and every movement perfectly calculated. He’s incredibly graceful, moves with the fluidity of water and the sensuality of a seasoned salsa dancer. You’re completely mesmerised by him, your eyes always trained on him, no matter who is speaking. And after they’re done, you find even more of your time being taken up by him. The two of you tire of constantly eleventh and twelfth wheeling, so you find yourself spending more and more time together.

You have known Park Jimin for almost three years now. But it feels like you’re just getting to know him. He tells you about his love for dance, and how he used to excel in school, always the top of his class. You believe everything he tells you because you can see it. He’s always been a perfectionist, always wanting to better himself and somehow it just makes sense that he was a studious person. He tells you about his previous dream of being a police officer and changing the world for the better. You tell him he’s doing more to change the world as a member of BTS than he could have done as a police officer. He blushes, but you know it’s the truth. You wouldn’t lie. Not to him.

Another week later, and the comeback season is finally done, the boys getting to rest for a while before they have to do anything else. That is why you find yourself on the beach on Jeju Island. Everyone is here, Seokjin and Hoseok playing in the water with Suri and Sooji while Jungkook tries to drag Yoongi into the water; the Maknae very easily picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder until Yoongi has no option but to get wet, much to his chagrin. Taehyung and Hae have gone on a short walk down the coastline, Taehyung wanting to explore and find some scenery to practice his photography. A little further away from you are Sooyun and Namjoon, the two walking the rocky tidal zone looking for crabs.

Besides you sits Jimin. He’s the epitome of relaxed, dressed in some boardshorts and a loose short sleeved t-shirt, he lounges against the picnic blanket, body stretched out and legs crossed. He’s leaning on his elbow, wind rustling through his hair but he doesn’t care. His focus completely fixated on the book he’s reading, his eyes darting across the pages. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re once against studying him, your gaze intense as you take in every single detail of him.

“Is there something you need?” Jimin asks, his gaze flicking up to you and you let out a little gasp when you lock eyes. He’s smiling mischievously, the corners of his eyelids crinkling. But it’s the colour of his eyes that have you gasping, the usually earthy irises catch the sun at the perfect angle, causing them to lighten into a beautiful warm honey colour that draws you in. Vaguely, at the back of your mind, you think it feels like sunshine and home.

“I- what?” You ask, slightly dazed. His booming laugh is like being doused by cold water down your back and you shake your head slightly, snapping out of your reverie.

“You’ve been staring at me for the past fifteen minutes, is there something on my face?” Jimin asks curiously, but you recognise the teasing tone. Your skin flushes and you feel your ears burn from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I was just lost in my own thoughts” You murmured, looking away causing him to laugh at you again.

“That’s alright, you were probably blinded by my handsomeness. Wow, I sound like Jin-hyung” Jimin teased before catching himself, looking perturbed at the thought of becoming like Seokjin. You supress a small squeak, because even though he was joking, he had hit the nail on the head. You wereblinded by how handsome he was.

“Hey, you wanna go get some ice cream? It’s so hot, I feel like cooling down” Jimin asked all of a sudden as he spots the small café nearby and you nodded, accepting his invitation. Jimin quickly asks everyone if they’d want ice cream, but everyone refuses and so the two of you find yourself walking in a comfortable silence.

“Hey! Can I get a chocolate scoop for me and a cookie and cream, for ____? Oh, in a waffle cone! She loves waffle cones” Jimin requests kindly when you get to the little café. Your head snaps to him in amazement, his smile bright as he hands you the ice cream.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks, leading you to a table before helping you into the seat.

“You remembered my ice cream order and the fact that even though they’re really messy, I love waffle cones” You reply shyly, Jimin shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“I know more about you than you realise” Jimin says cheekily, a small knowing smile on his face. Your eyebrow quirks in response as you feed yourself some ice cream.

“Oh really? Like what?” You taunt, and Jimin chuckles.

“I know you hate Jin-hyung’s beef” Jimin deadpans and you choke on your ice cream, looking at him wide eyed.

“W-W-What makes you say that? I’ve never said anything bad about his beef” You cough and Jimin rolls his eyes, eyes dancing with mirth.

“You don’t have to. You find it dry and I can tell because you either always avoid his beef, saying you prefer pork when I know for a factyou hate pork, or you always seem to drink an entire litre of water when you eat his beef” Jimin explains knowingly and you try to supress a blush, but the sudden heat around your cheeks lets you know you fail.

“Please don’t tell him! I love Jin’s cooking, really. It’s just he tends to overcook the beef” You sigh, shoulders deflating and Jimin lets out a gentle laugh.

“Don’t worry your secret is safe with me” Jimin winks and you feel your heart flutter. You almost want to point out that he says he can’twink but you stop yourself.

“So, you know I don’t like Jin’s beef and somehow you know that I hate pork. What else does thePark Jimin know about me?” You ask curiously.

“Hmmm, good question. But that would reveal all my cards” Jimin says with a teasing smirk and you pout, letting out a soft whine.

“Aish, how can I refuse when you’re being so cute?” Jimin asks fondly and you immediately blush, looking down shyly at his compliment.

“Well, what else do I know about you? Well for starters I know you can’t sing” Jimin jokes and this time, you flush out of embarrassment, especially when he starts laughing.

“Hey! Not everyone has an angelic fucking voice” You grumble, crossing your arms and glaring at him. Really? How could he just mock you like that?

“Aish, don’t get so offended. It’s okay. Not everyone can but I know you took singing lessons because you love to sing. I also know you have ridiculous stage fright, but that doesn’t stop you singing. I like it when you sing” Jimin confesses and you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

“I can’t sing, as you so nicely pointed out” You pout and he nods before looking at you earnestly.

“Yes, but I still like it when you do. Because you only do it when you’re completely comfortable around the person you’re with, or when you think you’re alone. I like when you sing in the shower most. Don’t get me wrong, you’re tone deaf and really loud. Like reallyloud. Almost screaming. But it means you’re comfortable and relaxed, I like that. Sometimes you even sing around me without realising and it makes me happy” Jimin admits and you find yourself unable to control your blushing, mumbling out an apology. But he stops you, stating that he loves your voice, tone deaf and all. You pout slightly, sticking your tongue out at him and he laughs, his voice echoing across the almost deserted beach. Once he’s done laughing at your misfortune, he continues, revealing everything he knows about you. And it’s a lot.

He tells you about how he can tell when you dislike something just from the way your nose slightly scrunches. He tells you that he’s noticed the small dimples on your cheeks, ones that almost never show because they’re not as prominent as Namjoon or Hoseok’s. He tells you he loves your dimples, because not only do they match his, but because whenever he sees them, he knows that you’re happy as they only show when you’re smiling really hard. He admits that he knows white lilies are your favourite flower, and that he was the one who sent bouquets of them to your house every week for two months after they put your dog down. He admits that he himself cried when he found out, wishing he could have been there to comfort you but knowing you would have wanted your space.

He tells you that he knows you love to fish, and that it was one of your favourite childhood memories, summers filled with boat rides out on a lake with your grandfather. He also knows that while you love to fish, you can never bring yourself to kill them and therefore always set them free, your grandfather scolding you lovingly for being too soft. He also admits that he knows you cried once again for two straight months after said grandfather passed away and how he wished he could make it so you wouldn’t ever lose anyone you loved again.

He continues revealing little details he knows about you and the two of you talk until the sun begins setting. You sit, completely enraptured as you listen to him list of little quirks and characteristics. You had never had anyone pay so much attention to you; never had anyone who knew you almost better than you know yourself. When he’s finally down, you have no words. So instead, you just look at him, eyes filled with words you simply cannotexpress.

You take in the sight of him, almost radiant with the beautiful backdrop of the setting sun. He glows a beautiful shade of amber, the light forming almost a halo around him. He looks relaxed, smiling at you with a slight tilt to his head.

And suddenly your chest lurches.

You let out a small gasp, bending over, clutching a hand to your chest as you breathe deeply. Vaguely, you hear Jimin jump out of his seat, rushing to your side; trying to make sure you’re okay. But you can’t respond. Instead, you close your eyes, wincing at the tell-tale stinging feel of tears as a sharp pain flares between your ribs. You let out a choked sob when your chest tightens, the pressure becoming almost too much. It felt like something was squeezing your lungs and wrapping around your heart.

“____! ____! Are you okay? What’s wrong” Jimin asks, shaking you slightly and after a couple more moments the sensation begins ebbing from a searing pain to a dull ache. You take in a deep breath, finally able to breathe again. You open your eyes, blinking away the tears before swallowing thickly.

“I’m fine, it’s okay. I don’t know what happened” You reply, your throat raspy and Jimin’s face contorts into a look of worry.

“I think we should get you to the hospital” Jimin says but you quickly shake your head.

“No! I’m okay really, it’s probably nothing. Don’t worry” You reply, sending him a small smile and Jimin goes to argue, but quickly stops himself, nodding at you tersely.

For the third time, you completely ignore the obvious warning.

You fail to realise that the seeds of love have deeply rooted into your chest.

Bud

def. form a growth for development into a flower

It’s two weeks after your trip to Jeju with the boys when you get a text from Jimin. You’ve been speaking almost non-stop the past two weeks, flirty texts making up the majority of your interactions. But you don’t think much of it, especially as you know Jimin’s a big flirt. You ignore the slight clench of your heart when his name pops up on your phone screen, instead unlocking your phone and opening up his latest message.

Jiminie: hey, you busy?

You: not particularly, what’s up?

Jiminie: I found this cute little ramen place about a ten-minute walk from your home. How quickly can you get here?

You: lmao, king of last-minute plans Park Jimin strikes again, I can be with you in twenty-minutes, are you already there?

Jiminie: you know it princess ;) I’ll grab us a table! Hurry, can’t wait to see you xo

You bite your lip, trying and failing to suppress your oncoming grin. You quickly begin getting dressed before rushing out of your apartment. You check your phone, using maps to navigate to the location Jimin had messaged you. Eventually, you find the place. A cute little family run restaurant, covered in brown wood with comfy cream booths and warm, low lighting. You quickly enter, locating Jimin fairly easily.

He’s tucked away in the corner, dust mask and black beanie on his head, light blue hair poking out; most likely worn in order to prevent anyone recognising him. You take in a deep breathe, smoothing out your wind swept hair and the non-existent wrinkles from your dress before nervously approaching him.

You’ve hung out with Jimin a lot lately, but this is the first time it’s felt so intimate. The atmosphere of the restaurant and the low lighting does nothing to help your nerves. A voice at the back of your head wonders if this is a date, and for a split second you entertain the thought before quashing it down. There was no way Park Jimin, Prince of Busan, would everask you on a date. You were just friends.

“Jimin-ah, hey!” You say, smiling brightly before sliding in opposite him. Jimin immediately perks up, back straightening as he pulls down his dust mask until it rests under his chin. The action does nothing but bring attention to his particularly soft cheeks, making your heart soften slightly.

“____! Hey, wow you look pretty!” Jimin compliments enthusiastically and you feel your ears heat up, shaking your head before opening your mouth to protest.

“Hey, no look at me” Jimin says, cutting you off and you your head stills, eyes locking with his, “I mean it, you look pretty, you always do” Jimin says earnestly. You take in a short, silent breath at the deep honesty in his eyes and words before ducking your head slightly, thanking him quietly.

“So, what’s good here?” You ask, changing the conversation and looking at the menu.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I just saw the place while I was walking by and remembered how much you loved ramen, so I invited you out. I think you mentioned wanting to try this place out a while ago but I’m not sure” Jimin replies with a shrug. Once again, you find yourself astounded by how much he knows about you, because you hadwanted to try this place and hadmentioned it… over a year ago. In fact, even you’d forgotten about it. But he had remembered, and you couldn’t help but feel touched by how thoughtful Jimin really could be.

“Well, I’ve heard the spicy chicken ramen with bok choy is good, we can try that” You suggest and Jimin nods.

“Whatever you want, I’m fine with. Oh! These are for you. The last time I sent you flowers was when your grandad died and before that was when your dog died. I thought maybe I had to rectify that. Can’t have all the flowers I send you be due to grief” Jimin says with a wink, handing you a bouquet of red roses and white lilies. Once again, a voice nags at the back of your head, because friendsdon’t treat each other like this. Friends don’t remember the restaurant you wanted to try a year ago, friendsdon’t buy you bouquets of your favourite flowers for no reason, and friendsdon’t flirt like Park Jimin does with you. But that’s exactly what you are. Friends.

“Oh wow, they’re beautiful. Thank you” You say, floored by the emotion bubbling in your chest. You take the bouquet from him, inhaling deeply, basking in the sweet scent of the roses and musky, heady scent of the lilies.

“Just like you” Jimin says once again with a wink and you almost have the mind to call him out for his constant lies about not being able to wink. But you don’t. Because you don’t want to ruin the moment. So instead, you fall into an easy conversation, talking about your days, the different projects the boys are running and more.

At some point, you order ramen but by the time it arrives the two of you are so absorbed in your conversation, you completely forget that the main reason you had come to the restaurant was because you had wanted to try the ramen in the first place. The two of you are barely eating, slurps of ramen few and far between the easy banter between the two of you. You feel completely comfortable with him, to the point where you don’t mind when a bit of soup dribbles down his chin or when you snort out of laughter, choking on some noodles.

By the time you’re done, it’s late at night and the two of you have exhausted any available conversation. But the silence isn’t awkward; instead you sit completely comfortably, just basking in the presence of each other. When you’re ready to leave, Jimin pays the bill, refusing to let you pay with a slight glare.

The two of you leave the restaurant, walking into the crisp late spring night. He walks you home, shoulders slightly bumping into each other as you walk, hands brushing against each other’s. Before you know it, you’re back at your apartment building and you regret how close the restaurant is to your apartment. You turn to Jimin, smiling shyly up at him. For the first time, you notice his height. He’s not particularly tall compared to the other boys, but he’s a good few inches taller than you.

Jimin smiles brightly at you before pulling you into a hug. You’re slightly surprised, although you’re not sure why because Jimin has hugged you goodbye countless of times before. This time however, it feels different. Somehow, he feels warmer, his touch feels more intimate. You bury your head into his neck ever so slightly, breathing the deep musky scent of his cologne over the tell-tale natural smell of chocolate and coffee that belonged solely to Jimin. Your arms automatically wrap around his neck, while his wrap around your waist and you simply stand in that position. At some point, you think he takes in a deep breath, nose buried in your hair. But you think you’ve imagined it. You’re unsure for how long you stand there, the street illuminated by the moon and soft glow street lamps, but all too soon, he’s pulling away giving you a soft smile before beckoning you upstairs.

You blush slightly, glad for the cover of the night before waving and walking away. You’re slightly dazed, his intoxicating scent still clouding your mind and before long, you’re in your apartment. You can’t even recollect even climbing the stairs, no opening your door. Rather than pondering it however, you begin getting ready for bed, a soft smile playing on your lips as you remember the night’s events instead. When you replay the hug in your mind however, you feel slightly choked up.

You begin coughing suddenly, wondering why it feels like something bulbous is lodged in the back of your throat. All of a sudden, you begin coughing violently, your throat raw as you try to dislodge whatever is stuck in your throat. Your eyes burn with tears but no matter how hard you cough, it simply won’t budge. You panic slightly and rush to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water before chugging it down.

You feel it go down slightly and quickly pour yourself a second before gulping that down too. Relief washes over you when it finally dislodges and you breathe deeply, hand on your throat, trying to soothe the slightly raw flesh with soft rubs. You’re unsure as to what happened, but you chalk it up to a freak accident. And looking back, you wished you had realised sooner. You wish you had noticed the signs early on.

But you don’t.

Instead as usual you stay oblivious to the flowers of love budding deep within your chest.

Effloresce

def. reach an optimal stage of development; bloom/blossom

It’s another week later when you find yourself standing in the Bangtan household once again. You haven’t been here since New Year’s Eve but now summer is on the horizon, the spring blossoms giving way to the summer blooms. Once again, you find yourself alone with Jimin. Tonight, is one of the last nights that the boys have off before being thrust back into their hectic schedule. Your best friends take advantage and drag their respective boyfriends out on dates in order to spend quality time with them.

Which is why you find yourself sitting next to Jimin on the sofa, your back against his chest and head resting in the crook of his shoulder as you both sip your wine, watching whatever Korean Drama that was playing. If you were being honest, you stopped paying attention after your third glass of wine. Although, your lack of attention had more to do with Jimin’s hands moving from your waist to your hips, drawing lazy circles on the slight exposed skin rather than the alcohol.

You shift yourself slightly, trying to distract yourself from his seemingly innocent ministrations but all you achieve is brushing the soft of your ass against his hardened, thick thighs and crotch. Jimin lets out an involuntary moan and your breath hitches when his fingers grip your waist tightens, fingers pressing into the flesh of your hips. His head falls into the crook of your neck, soft lips brushing against the hot skin of your neck.

“Tell me to stop” Jimin breathes against your skin and you let out a shudder at the want in his voice. You’ve barely done anything and he’s just as breathless as you are.

“Tell me to stop or I won’t until this ends” Jimin whispers against and your throat goes dry at his words, his lips continue caressing your skin, pressing light kisses against the column of your throat.

If you’re being completely honest, it’s hard to think right now. But all you know is that you don’t wantto stop. You should.By god do you know that you should.This was certainly crossing boundaries and you were both walking into unchartered territory. It was wrong and you had no idea how this would affect your relationship. But you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him to pick you up and carry you to his room before leaving you nothing but a quivering mess. So instead you press your hips further into his, straining your neck and giving him better access.

“Please don’t” You almost beg and Jimin groans against your skin.

“What do you want Princess?” Jimin asks, tongue swiping against the shell of your ear before sucking purple flowers against the sensitive skin just under your earlobe.

“You” is your only answer and Jimin immediately flips you over so you’re under him, smashing his lips against yours. As soon as you feel his lush lips against yours, you feel time stop. All you comprehend is the deep scent of him that clouds your sense and the sensation of his lips against yours. His tongue presses against your lips, begging for entrance and you allow it, your lips parting before moaning as your tongues entangle.

One of his hands trails down your side to your thigh before hooking it around his hips, his other hand bracing himself above you. His hips between your parted legs start moving, slowly grinding against your heat. You let out a strangled cry against his lips at the stimulation; your hands moving to his ass, gripping them as you tried to pull him closer to alleviate the heat between your legs.

“Fuck you’re so hot Princess” Jimin whispers against your lips when you finally part, looking down at your through lidded eyes. His lips moved to press soft kisses against your throat before trailing down to the slight exposed skin between your collar, on the pendant of the necklace he’d gifted you for Christmas. Deft fingers begin unbuttoning your shirt, his lips brushing and nipping at the skin slowly being exposed until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He pulls you up so that you’re sitting up before pushing your shirt of you, his hands pressing against your back and pulling you flush against his chest as he kisses you senseless once again.

His hands quickly undo the clasp of your bra before removing it from your body, head dipping down to the valley of your breasts, lips sweeping against the soft globes before wrapping his lips around your nipple, laving until it hardens, suckling on the teat. Your hands move to his hair, tugging the locks as you push him further into your breast, whimpering above him. His hands move to your hips once again before he shifts so his back is against the sofa, your legs straddling him. Your hands move to the hem of his t-shirt, Jimin breaking away from your breast so you could divest him of his shirt before his lips attach to your other nipple.

While he continues lavishing attention upon your breasts, your hands dance against his shoulders, bracing yourself as you begin grinding down on his member. Jimin hisses against your chest as you smirk. You continue your actions, heat pressed right against his hardened shaft as you move slowly, drawing soft whimpers from the male. You tug at his hair making him detach from your breast before you get up, shimmying out of your jeans and underwear until you’re completely naked. Jimin’s eyes darken until they’re almost black, his gaze slowly trailing down every curve of your body before resting between your thighs, arousal dripping down the soft flesh.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful, come here Princess” Jimin calls peering up at you as he pulls you closer by the hips, one hand moving between your thighs and cupping your sex. You buck against his hand, throwing your head back with a soft cry as one of his thick fingers slides through your slit, parting the lips before pressing into your honeyed hole. He moans at the tight heat encasing his digits as he pumps into you slowly, stretching your walls. He pulls his hand away, groaning as a string of your arousal attaches to his fingers. His digits are completely soaked and you watch through lust filled eyes, gazes locked on each other as he flicks his tongue out, licking at the coating of slick on his fingers.

“Is that all for me Angel?” Jimin asks, tongue swirling around his finger.

“All for you baby boy” You replied with a nod, a playful smirk on your lips as you crawl back into his lap. Except this time, your legs are on either side of his left thigh. You decide you’ve had enough of being passive and lower your heat onto his jeans, groaning at the rough material against your sensitive clit. Jimin’s hands move to your hip and you tut, removing them off you before pinning them against the couch.

“Uh-uh baby boy, did I say you could touch? No, I want you to watch as I get off using your thighs” You mumble into his ear, pulling his earlobe between your teeth as you nibble on the soft flesh. He whimpers under you but obliges, a complete flip from the dominating personality he was showcasing earlier. You begin grinding against his thigh, throwing your head back and moaning as you stimulate yourself. Jimin can feel your searing heat on his thigh, his jeans quickly darkening with your dripping arousal.

“Fuck, you look so good” Jimin compliments, eyes trained on where your sex meets his thighs, watching in rapt fascination as the darkened patch gets darker and darker. You quiver above him, sucking in sharp but shaky breaths as you grind against him hard. Your fingers move to the nape of his neck, entangling in the thick locks there as you continued moving above him. Suddenly he begins flexing his thigh and you let out a soft shriek, as you’re stimulated further by the hardness of his muscles.

“Are you gonna cum for me Princess? Are you gonna cum and make a mess of my jeans? Look at them, they’re completely soaked but you can do better can’t you?” Jimin asks from under you and you tug at his hair, hissing slightly at him. He’s trying to take back dominance with his dirty talk and you’re having none of it. So instead, you locate the imprint of his dick, hard and straining against his jeans before sitting down until your pussy is pressed against his tip. Jimin lets out a whine and you smirk above him, sliding your cunt up and down his thigh, clit brushing against the head of his dick ever so slightly. You know it’s torturous, you can tell by the way he begins bucking underneath you, mewling softly.

“Be a good boy and play with my clit baby” You whimper above him, and Jimin immediately obliges, hand pressed against your abdomen as his thumb prods into your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves in hard, tight circles. You cry above him, throwing your head back and arching your back as you begin shuddering. Heat swells in the pit of your stomach, your thighs shaking on either side of Jimin’s. The coil of pleasure snaps when Jimin pinches your clit, bending over and taking your nipple back into his mouth. All of a sudden, your nerves are electrified with pleasure, toes curling from strength of your orgasm, thighs shaking as you cry in euphoria. Your body goes slack and you fall, unable to hold yourself up.

“Shhh, it’s okay Princess, you’re okay” Jimin says into your chest, his head between your breast. He catches you quickly before you can fall, arms wrapping around your waist as he holds you to him. Jimin presses soothing kisses into your shoulder, holding your trembling body as he rubs your back, waiting for you to come down from your high.

“Fuck me” You beg through laboured breaths. Your cunt continues clenching around nothing, your pussy sopping and dripping with your cum as you drench his jeans. They’re probably beyond repair at this point, considering how wet they are.

“Are you sure Princess? Will you be able to handle it?” Jimin asks in concern, not wanting to overstimulate you, but you couldn’t care less. Your heat aches, needing to be filled and you’re sure if he doesn’t fuck you, you’re going to lose your mind.

“Please Jimin, fuck me” You plead once again and immediately Jimin growls, he flips you over so your back is pressed against the couch. You pull your legs up, bracing your feet against the edge of the sofa as you spread your legs wide. Jimin groans at the sight, quickly undoing his jeans before pushing both them and his boxers off of his figure. You bite your lip when his dick is finally revealed, his of average length but absolutely thickand wet; drippingwith precum. You watch through a lustful haze as he pumps his member, wetting his dick with his own precum.

He shifts forward rubbing the head of his cock between your lips and making you moan, bucking your heat against him. He manoeuvres his dick until the head is pressing into you. You let out a soft whine when he pushes into you, hands moving to his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh, face scrunching up at the stretch. He’s impossibly thick and it feels like he’s splitting you open, his hard shaft fucking your walls open, forcing them to stretch and accommodate him. You breathe deeply, biting your lip until you draw blood as you feel him finally bottom out.

“Fucking shit, you’re so tight. I should have stretched you, I’m sorry Princess” Jimin says, bending over and kissing your closed eyes as he stills, waiting for you to adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck, it’s so full. Move Jimin, fuck me hard” You plead and Jimin lets out a soft growl, his hands move to your hips, fingers digging into your hipbones before pushing them down into the couch, holding you still. He pulls out before thrusting back in, in one swift motion before he begins rutting into you. You gasp, hands moving from his shoulders to wrap around his neck, clutching on desperately as he wrecks you underneath him.

“Don’t worry Princess, I’ll fuck this pretty little pussy open until you can’t walk anymore” Jimin grits out, punctuating each of his words with a hard thrust. His hips move in tantalising ways, his dancer’s hips aiding his motions.

“Shit, look at you. Look at that pussy stretching around my thick cock. You take my dick so well baby” Jimin praises, his eyes trained on the sight of his cock moving in and out of your cunt. You clench at his words, feeling your orgasm building once again and Jimin whines as you tighten further.

“Fuck, are you cumming again already baby? Gonna soak my cock in your cum?” Jimin asks and you nod underneath him, hands on his neck as you pull him down for a sloppy kiss. Your lips move against each other as he continues fucking himself into you.

“Play with your clit for me Princess, let me see you get off” Jimin urges against your lips, his eyes watching as one of your hands moves to play with your clit. You rub your sensitive bundle of nerves, thighs shaking once again as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Shit… just like that baby, that’s so hot” Jimin groans as you begin shuddering under him, gasping for air as he fucking harder into you.

“I’m close… Jimin I’m so close please” You cry, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Cum. Cum for me Angel” Jimin orders and immediately your body seizes up, muscles locking as you cry out his name, thighs shaking and pussy quivering around him as your walls tighten. Jimin continues fucking into you, despite how tight you get, one of his hands joining yours as you both play with your clit.

“Jimin! FUCK” You scream and suddenly you cum, gushing around him and soaking his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks. He continues thrusting into you, loud squelching noises filling the air as your skin slaps against each other.

“Shit. Shit. Shit I’m cumming. Let me cum in you baby” Jimin pleads and you have no energy to respond, so you simply nod, silently pleading with him to finish and cease his assault of unadultered pleasure on your body.

“Fuck, ____” Jimin whines and then you feel his cum splash into you, coating your walls white with his thick semen. You groan, quivering underneath him as Jimin places soft kisses against your collarbone, slowly pumping his cum into you before stilling when the stimulation becomes painful. The two of you stay like that for a couple moments, coming down from your high before Jimin goes soft, pulling out of you. As soon as he pulls out, you feel him begin to drip out of you, groaning at the sensation.

“Damn, we made a mess. Hold on” Jimin says before standing up and walking into the kitchen. You stay where you are, unable to move, staring up at the ceiling. You had just fucked Park Jimin. Holy shit. What would happen now? Before you can overthink anything however, Jimin returns with a wet cloth as he slowly begins cleaning you up. When he’s done he returns to the kitchen to chuck the cloth into the washing machine before coming back to you. He peers at your completely fucked out form, breath still laboured and skin flushed.

“Can you walk?” Jimin asks and you don’t have it in you to answer, so you simply shake your head no. Jimin chuckles before approaching you and picking you up before carrying you to his room. He carefully places you on the bed before drawing the covers over you.

“I need to clean up the living room before everyone gets home. Get some rest” Jimin says softly and you nod before turning to your side, curling up as you drift off into sleep.

It’s a couple hours later when you wake up with a soft groan. The night’s events replay in your mind and you immediately sit up, wincing slightly when your sore body protests. You turn to your side, heart plummeting in your chest when you realise Jimin isn’t in his bed. You turn to the side, realising your clothes are neatly folded on the bed side table with your phone on the top. Your heart gripes at the sight. Did he want you to leave? You and Jimin had shared a bed before when you’d crashed after a long night with everyone. So why hadn’t he slept next to you after fucking you?

Did he want nothing to do with you anymore? Had you ruined your friendship? You had no idea. So instead, you quickly get out of bed, trying to ignore the ache in your muscles and between your legs as you quickly get dressed. You can feel tears pool in your eyes and you quickly rub them before slapping your cheeks, trying to get a hold of yourself. You grab your phone before you slowly begin sneaking out. When you’re leaving, you notice Jimin on the sofa, fast asleep and once again your heart breaks all over again. Had he really chosen the sofa over sharing a bed with you?

Fuck. You had to get out of here.

You tiptoe out of the Bangtan household, slowly shutting the door before quickly walking away. It’s almost 5am so you quickly call an Uber wanting nothing more than to be home and in bed. You embrace the chill of the summer night, the cool air distracting you from traitorous thoughts of Park Jimin.

You only wait a couple minutes before your Uber picks you up. You quickly slide into the car, arms wrapping around yourself as you will yourself not to cry. You’d had one night stands before so you have no idea why your heart feels like it’s breaking all over the place. Tears burn at your eyes and you choke out a sob, as you remember Jimin’s peaceful sleeping figure on the sofa. He’d obviously thought sleeping with you was a mistake, otherwise he’d have been in bed with you.

Suddenly, your sobs turn into choked cries as you begin coughing. You cough violently, your throat scratching as you feel something come up. The driver looks at you in question but you ignore him as you cough particularly hard. And then, it dislodges from your throat and falls into your hand.

But you wish it hadn’t.

You let out a small sniffle before breaking out into a full-blown sob, your sorrowful cries filling the car, your hand clutching desperately around the petal in your palm. The driver looks at you in alarm but you continue ignoring him.

You wish you had stayed oblivious.

Because then you wouldn’t know about your feelings for Park Jimin and you could brush it off as a one-night stand. But you can’t. Not now. All of a sudden, all the chest pains and coughing fits make sense. You think back to all the times your chest ached at the thought of Park Jimin, back to the first night on Christmas. You wish you had realised soon. But it’s too late now.

Because there in your hand, is a blood-stained white lily petal.

And now you know.

You know that the seeds of your unrequited love for Park Jimin have effloresced.

Wilt

def. become limp

It’s five months before you see Jimin again. After that night, you do your best to avoid him as best as you can. It’s not difficult as the boys are midst another comeback. You’re further aided by their world tour and hence, you are Jimin free for a few short blissful months. You try your best to forget him, but the constant ache in your chest lets you know that your feelings for him are undeniable. Each day the symptoms get worse and worse. As each day goes by, you’re coughing up more and more petals. A morbid side of you decides to clean the petals and dry them out, placing them in a jar. A handful of petals for each day you love him.

Today is the first time you’ll be seeing him in a while. The boys have finished their leg of the European part of the world tour and are due back in Seoul before starting the Asian part and you’re beyond nervous. But there’s no way you can avoid him tonight, because it’s Sooji’s birthday and you know for a fact that she’ll kill you before you even think of missing it. You’re beyond nervous, butterflies swimming in the pits of your belly and you feel like you may just throw up. Your phone rings and you pick up, taking a deep breath before answering.

“____! Are you ready? Sooyun, Suri and I are coming to pick you up” Hae asks and you groan slightly.

“Yeah, I’m ready” You whisper back, but it’s a lie and you know it is. Because you’re notready. You don’t think you’ll ever be ready to face Jimin after he so sneakily rejected you.

“Hey, you sound upset. What’s wrong?” Hae asks and you bite your lip, attempting to stifle the sob in your throat. You shake your head, trying to get a grip of your feelings.

“Nothing, I’m okay” You stutter back and Hae tuts disapprovingly and you know that she’s seen through the blatant lie despite being on the phone.

“You’re not. What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding all of us. You didn’t even come on tour with the boys, we were supposed to see Europe together, all five of us” Hae says quietly and you almost feel guilty. It hadbeen suspicious when you declined an all-expenses paid trip around America, Canada and Europe. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t stomach being around Jimin for months, surrounded by beautiful cities and pretend you felt nothing for him. So, you had graciously declined, making up an excuse about work.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been really busy” You lie through your teeth. Because there was no way you’d be able to confess that you’d slept with Jimin and were in love with him. You especially couldn’t bring yourself to tell her or any of them that the love was unrequited and as a result you had developed the Hanahaki disease, an illness that was slowly consuming your lifeforce and killing you in the most painful, heart-breaking way. You couldn’t tell them that he had bloomed beautiful florets of love in the midst of your lungs before leaving them to decay. Because if Hae knew, then Sooyun and the girls would know and then Hoseok and Namjoon would also know and they’d probably force Jimin into doing something he regretted. But you couldn’t have that. You didn’t want him to love you out of pity. You just wanted his happiness. Even if that happiness wasn’t with you.

“Listen ____, I can’t force you to tell me what’s wrong. If you don’t wanna speak about it, that’s okay. But don’t shut us out” Hae pleads and once again your heart grips with guilt.

“I know I’m sorry. I’ll try and be better. Thanks for understanding Hae” You whisper back.

“Anytime. Now, we should be with you soon, so let’s just have some fun tonight okay. It’s not every day that Sooji turns 24 so let’s forget about everything else yeah?” Hae says and despite yourself, you chuckle.

“Sure, let’s do it” You respond before hanging up. You take in a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes steeling with resolve. You won’t let tonight break you. You’re going out and you’re going to enjoy yourself and Park Jimin be damned because there was no way you’d be ruining your best friend’s 24thbirthday. You quickly fix your make up and once you’re done, the girls are at your door, grinning and thrusting a bottle of wine in your hand. You let out your own grin before taking a swig, Hae rolling her eyes before pouting.

“I hate that I can’t drink because I’m on call and because I’m your damn designated driver” Hae pouts and the three of you laugh. The four of you quickly get into the car and before you know it, you’re standing on a rooftop bar, overlooking the beautiful Seoul skyline. It’s mid November and the air is chilly but the party is in full swing and with the amount of people bustling about, the body heat swirling around the atmosphere keeps you warm enough.

“____! You’re here! God it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever” Sooji squeals before running up to you, hugging you tightly. Her words are true because you haven’t seen her in months considering she was touring the world with the boys and once again you feel guilt for neglecting your best friends.

“Sorry, I promise to be better. Happy birthday!” You wish cheerily and Sooji grins brightly, Yoongi and Seokjin smiling on either side of her. You greet the both of them before Suri drags you away to grab some more drinks. For the first time in months, you let out a real life, letting the girls drag you around. You meet each of the boys, striking up a small conversation with each of them. Jimin is far from your mind and your thankful for such amazing friends.

You think you may actually have a fun night.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Hae and Taehyung, speaking about how much Taehyung enjoyed Europe, especially the various art galleries and even going to his favourite artist’s art exhibit. You’re thoroughly enjoying yourself. Taehyung has always had the most beautiful mind and his love for art and culture is almost unparalleled. However, all thoughts are ruined when you hear Taehyung let out a small groan, eyes narrowing behind you as Hae herself tuts. You wonder what’s got them both so annoyed and turn around, your eyes widening when Jimin enters the rooftop bar.

But he’s not alone.

“Can you believe he brought her here?” Hae lets out a moan, glaring openly at the girl next to Jimin.

“I honestly didn’t think he would. I thought he knew better than that. If Sooyun-ah finds her, she’ll go mad” Taehyung responds but you can barely hear them through the cloudy haze of your mind. Jimin immediately spots you and the two of you lock eyes, his own widening slightly. Time slows down and it’s as if the both of you are the only ones present on the beautiful lit up bar, surrounded by Sooji’s favourite flowers. It’s kind of fitting.

However, the moment is broken up immediately when the girl starts clinging onto Jimin. His gaze snaps away from yours and towards the girl tucked into his side. He looks down at her and she looks up at him, her eyes sparkling as if he’s the only man in the world. You can almost hear the sound of your heart break when he beams that beautiful pearly white smile down at her, a smile that you wished was reserved for you and only you. Your eyes widen in fear slightly when they both start walking over to you. Your eyes dart around, trying to find a way to escape the inevitable, awkward conversation but before you can escape, Jimin and his new girl are already by your side.

“Hey, ____, I haven’t seen you in a while” Jimin says softly and you nod tersely, unsure what to say. But really, what could you? You had fucked five months ago and now here he was with another girl on his arms. Were you the only one affected by this? Clearly, considering he had so easily moved on to someone else. Then again, can you really move on from someone you only had sex with once, and had no feelings for?

“Hi Jimin, it has. I heard the tour went well, you guys did great” You comment easily, silently cheering at how steady your voice is. From the corner of your eyes you can see Hae narrow her own eyes, suspicious of the behaviour between the two of you. But you do your best to ignore her.

“Jimin-ah, who is this?” The girl asks and you cringe at the nasally, high pitch voiced. She was trying way too hard to be cute and you feel bad when you almost snicker as Taehyung fakes a gagging noise behind the girl’s back, Jimin glaring at his best friend.

“Ri-El, this is ____. ____ this is Ri-El, my date” Jimin responds thickly and you nod curtly, extending your hand to shake hers despite how much you want to run away from the situation. The five of you begin a conversation. Well, you say conversation when really, it’s just Ri-El talking at you, spewing nonsense and you’re not really sure what she’s talking about considering she’s changed topics at least five times within the same sentence. You hate that you find her annoying because she seems nice enough. But you can’t help but want to hate her, especially with how she clings to Jimin.

“Oh! Is that Taemin? The Taemin? I have to go say hi!” Ri-El finally finishes before running off like a star struck fan. The minute she’s gone, Sooyun stomps up to you guys, followed by her two boyfriends.

“Park Jimin! I cannotbelieve you brought her here” Sooyun hisses and Jimin immediately cringes. She’s younger than him, in fact, she’s the youngest out of all of you, Jungkook beating her by a couple of months. But that doesn’t mean that Jimin isn’t terrifiedof her, especially with the amount of times both she and Jungkook have pranked him for no reason other than the fact that he’s an easy target.

“Sooyun-ah please, she really wanted to come. I couldn’t say no” Jimin pleads and suddenly you wonder why the hell everyone seems to hate Ri-El so much.

“Jimin, you slept with her once! Once while on tour. Why are you suddenly so attached to her? Especially after she almost leaked your whereabouts to some ssaesangs” Sooyun hissed but you’d stopped listening by that point. He had slept with her. He had fucked her like he had fucked you and suddenly you felt like throwing up.

“She’s really nice once you get to know her, please Sooyun-ah” Jimin begs and you finally have had enough. He’s known her barely half a year and he’s already defending her after sleeping with her once, yet after knowing you for yearsand sleeping with you, he wants nothing to do with you? It’s more than your heart can take. Sooyun continues ripping into Jimin and you use the opportunity to make a quick escape.

“Hey guys, I’m going to grab another drink” You excuse yourself, your voice slightly quivering. It’s quiet and only Hae and Sooji notice, both of them looking at you in alarm, brows furrowing with concern. You shake your head at them before turning and walking away briskly. It takes every part of you to prevent yourself from running.

Once you’re far enough away from them you run out of the bar and into the bathroom, shutting yourself into a stall before dropping to the floor, head in your hands as you begin to cry into your knees. Your body wracks with sobs and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from being audible. You cry out when you feel a shift in your lungs, the roots in your chest tightening around your lungs before squeezing. You gasp out a breath, trying desperately to draw enough oxygen, but it’s counterproductive, causing the roots to grip tighter.

You wondered if love was always supposed to hurt like this. You hate him for planting his seeds into the garden of your chest before leaving them; letting them overgrow into a beautiful mess of nothing but weeds and thorns that encase your heart, which holds all the love you have for him. You try your hardest to weed them out, but the more you think about him, the stronger your chest aches, as if thoughts of him are the water your garden needs to continue growing.

For the second time in your life, you feel the familiar sensation of something bulbous stuck at the back of your throat. This time you don’t panic. Instead, you accept fate as you begin coughing, eyes tearing up as you continue gagging. You feel the bud slowly inch its way up your throat, slowly scratching its way up your oesophagus. When it finally dislodges you cough it out into the palm of your hand before breaking into another fit of sobs.

A wilted rose bud.

If petals were the first stage, you knew buds were the second stage.

There was no hope.

Your unrequited love for Park Jimin would be the death of you.

Wither

def. become dry or shrivelled

The next few times you see Jimin are probably the hardest. You can no longer avoid him without being suspicious, especially since you promised Hae you’d stop avoiding everyone. Hence, you see him more often than not and each time is worse than the other. He’s still dating Ri-El and every time you watch him interact with her, you can feel the thorned roots entangle further, gripping your lungs until you’re left breathless, lungs burning for air. It gets harder to breathe almost every day and you wonder how much longer you can survive this way.

There is a cure. You know there is. But you’re not sure if you can go through with it. Hanahaki is so rare that you’re not sure about the consequences. Some say you lose memories of the person you once loved, others say you just lose the love you had for them. Some even say that if you lose the flowers, you can never love the person again. Of course, there is the cure where the recipient of the feelings acknowledges and reciprocates, but you don’t have much hope for that. He seems happy with her and you can’t bear to come between that happiness. Even if it means death.

You’ve contemplated undergoing the surgery. But every time you think about it, you can’t seem to follow through. Despite every bit of hurt he’s caused you, you lovePark Jimin and you love your memories of him. You didn’t want to forget him, you didn’t want to not be able to love him ever again either. So, you reach an impasse, one that does worse for you than good considering you grow weaker every day. You look across your living room, to the shelf packed with glass jars filled to the brim with lily petals and rose buds.

Your love for Jimin had caused to you spew out flower petals and buds almost every day, slowly increasing in frequency as time passes. You wonder if maybe one day he’ll spot the jars and see the beautiful garden you had choked out, brought from both the pain and love he had caused you. You begin coughing again, the onslaught triggered by your thoughts of Jimin. You’re more than used to it now, it’s been more than half a year and you barely register the pain, wincing only slightly when the thorned rose stems scratch against the lining of your throat.

The last week, you had developed into the penultimate stage. Instead of simply choking out petals and buds, you were now throwing up entire flower stems. Your chances of survival were getting slimmer day by day and you knew that the final stage, throwing up entire bouquets, would mean your end. You scoff at yourself slightly, wondering when you’d become the type of person to die for love. But you would. You’d die if it meant preserving the happy memories of your love for Jimin.

You finally managed to choke out the flower, pulling out the withered rose before placing it in a vase along with the dozen other dead roses and lilies. As soon as you place it in the vase, there’s a knock at your door. Your brows furrow in question, wondering who that could be considering you weren’t expecting anyone. You answer your door, eyes widening when Hoseok, Namjoon and Sooyun smile brightly at you from the doorway.

“____! Hey, haven’t seen you in forever” Sooyun says as the three of them enter your apartment.

“We literally saw each other a couple days ago” You deadpan, wondering why the hell they were here.

“Woah, what’s with all the dead flowers?” Hoseok asks you, your childhood friend pointing at the dying bouquet on your countertop.

“Ah, I bought flowers a couple of weeks ago but I haven’t managed to throw them out. I completely forgot” You lie casually; he immediately raises an eyebrow at you and you know he’s caught your lie. But really, what else do you except from him? You’ve known each other since you were children, the two of you knew each other like the backs of your palms. There was nothing you could keep from each other.

“Uh huh, and what about those?” Hoseok asks, gesturing to the jars of petals and buds littering your shelves. You immediately stiffen, unsure of how to respond.

“____, what’s going on? We’re worried” Sooyun says softly and your mouth goes dry knowing you’ve been caught. You’re unsure of what to say, looking to Namjoon for help but he simply shakes his head, sending you his own worried glance.

“N-Nothing’s wrong” You try, stammering out your response and Sooyun sighs.

“Listen, I know we said we wouldn’t press if you didn’t want to talk about it. But this is getting ridiculous. Something is wrong, I know it, Seok knows it. Hell, even Joon noticed and you know he notices nothing. So, what’s going on?” Sooyun finally bursts out, looking at you for answers.

“What Sooyun is trying to say is that, we’re worried. You’ve lost so much weight, you look pale and you have these god-awful bags as if you haven’t slept in a month. Also, your voice is constantlyraspy, as if you’ve got the worst sore throat in the world and it’s been going on for too long. We just want to make sure you’re okay” Hoseok follows after his girlfriend, eyes brimming with concern.

“Is- is this about Jimin?” Sooyun questions ever so gently and your head snaps to her, eyes wide and from your reaction, you know she can tell that’s the exact issue.

“What happened? Don’t lie to me. Hae noticed something weird between the two of you at Sooji’s birthday and then recently you’ve been so awkward and stiff with each other. You used to spend so much time together before the last comeback and tour” Sooyun presses and you’re left stuttering. So they hadnoticed something, but just never said anything.

“I-I-” You stutter out, unsure of what to say. You can feel the flowers well up at the base of your throat and wonder if an attack is imminent. You take in a sharp breath when the roots move, constricting your airflow further.

“____? Are you okay? You don’t look so good” Namjoon says softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You let out a low whimper at the action and the soft touch is all it takes for the damn to burst. You begin sobbing, the weight of your emotions finally crashing as you sob your heart out. Namjoon jumps in alarm, Hoseok and Sooyun quickly rushing to you as the former pulls you in for a hug.

“I’m dying” You finally stutter out and everyone’s eyes widens at your confession.

“What? No. You’re not. Tell me you’re joking, please tell me you’re lying” Hoseok pleads, looking at you with tear filled eyes.

“You’re not dying. This is a prank, you’re pranking me to get back at Jeon and I because of all our pranks, right? This isn’t funny” Sooyun says, but her eyes are filled with fear and you know she’s two words from breaking apart.

“I am. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner” You sob out and Sooyun lets out a little sob before crying softly with you.

“What? How? Why?” She stuttered out and you let out a rueful smile.

“I’m in love with Park Jimin. But he doesn’t love me, so I developed the Hanahaki disease. I’ve been keeping it a secret from everyone” You confess and Sooyun goes stiff, eyes wide while Namjoon sucks in a deep breath.

“You mean… the disease with the flowers? Is that where all the flowers came from?” Hoseok asks and you nod simply.

“Can’t… won’t it help if you get over him?” Sooyun asks softly and you shake your head, chuckling mirthlessly.

“I’ve tried. Believe me I’ve tried but my love for him is so deep that he’s planted within the dark recesses of my chest, the roots encasing my lungs. He makes roses bloom in my lungs and lilies blossom in my chest and granted they are beautiful but I cannot fucking breathe” You respond. You can already feel the early effects of an attack, flower buds at the top of your chest, ready to spill out your oesophagus due to the thoughts of him plaguing your mind. Once again you feel the roots constrict around your chest and you take in a sharp breath, before you begin choking.

“____? ____!” Hoseok calls in alarm but you push him away, instead heaving over. You begin gagging and this time, it’s unlike the times before. The flowers don’t come up as easily as they had before and you’re dry heaving. Tears sting at your eyes and you feel your throat burn, completely raw.

“Namjoon! Call the ambulance, we have to get her to a hospital” Sooyun calls frantically but you ignore the commotion surrounding you. You vaguely feel Hoseok’s presence behind you, rubbing and patting your back but it does little to help. You cry at the burn of the pain, sobs wracking your body as you claw at your throat, wondering why they won’t come out. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe and you wonder if this is how it ends.

Then Hoseok pats your back particularly hard and you lurch forward, retching out whatever was blocking your airway. Your eyes widen when dozens of flowers spew out your throat, blood stained and covered in saliva. There are enough flowers to create an entire bouquet, reminiscent of the one Jimin had given you when he’d taken you to the ramen restaurant.

You close your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks as you realise that you’ve reached stage four, the final one.

Then it goes dark.

Abscission

def. the natural detachment of parts of a plant

The next time you wake, all you see is a moving white ceiling. You turn around and notice that you’re on a hospital gurney, being rolled somewhere you have no idea. Sooyun, Hoseok and Namjoon are running behind while the doctors and nurses call out various codes that you can’t comprehend. In fact, there’s not much you can comprehend. You hear words like ‘critical’ and ‘surgery’ and wonder what is happening. And then you remember.

You remember heaving out an entire bouquet worth of flowers before it went dark. Ah. So you were on your way to surgery. They were going to remove the flowers and save you. You want to protest, but you don’t have the energy to do so. Namjoon is passive. His jaw is grit and you can tell he’s trying to keep calm and rational, always playing the role of the leader. Hoseok and Sooyun however, aren’t as calm. They’re both sobbing as they follow you into what you assume is the ER. Maybe this is for the best you think. Maybe if they operate and remove the flowers, you can go back to your normal life. You can forget Park Jimin and the love you had for him.

Your resolve shakes however, when you spot Park Jimin running up to you. He’s caught you just in time. He’s crying freely and you wonder why. You open your mouth, willing your body to say something, anything. If this is the last time you remember him, if this is the last time you remember your feelings for him. You want him to know. You want to thank him for being a beautiful human being and a wonderful friend, even if you had wanted more in the end.

“Jimin” You rasp out and he lets out a little sob, nodding as he grabs your hand. The nurses tut slightly, but allow you to continue. They probably know he’s the one who’s caused your illness and they’re probably sympathetic but you don’t care. Right now, all that matters is you and Jimin and you’re feelings for him. Because just once, you want to confess just once and then you can happily move on.

“Jimin I love you. I’m sorry” You rasp out and using the last of your energy smile at him, before it starts going dark once again. Jimin lets out a small a small cry, clutching your hand desperately.

“No! No I’m sorry, I didn’t know! I love you. Please, I love you. Come back please, just let me love you” Jimin cries, weeping as he presses a kiss to your hand, but you don’t respond.

“Mr. Park, please let her go. We have to operate” The nurse chides and Jimin simply shakes his head, holding onto you tighter.

“No! She needs to know! Please. Please” Jimin begs before he feels strong hands wrap around him and he tries to fight it, but Namjoon simply holds him tighter, pulling him away.

“Jimin, let her go” Namjoon says softly and he does. He watches with despair as you disappear through the doors and wonder if it’s the last time he’ll be able to hold you like that again, wonders if you’ll even remember his name or your memories or if you’ll ever be able to love him again the way he loves you.

“Hyung, I love her” Jimin cries, turning into Namjoon’s arms before collapsing. He cries into Namjoon’s chest, shoulders shaking as he runs fingers through his hair, wondering where the two of you went wrong. If only he had known. If only he hadn’t run away from you and his feelings the night you had slept together. Maybe then you’d still be in his arms, beside him.

“I know Chim, I know” Namjoon says softly, holding the younger tightly as he tries to soothe Jimin’s cries. Sooyun drops to he knees, pushing Jimin’s hair out of his face before looking at him with sad eyes, a small smile on her face.

“She loved you too. Right until the end, she loved you and only you” Sooyun says and she means it out of comfort, but all it does is make Jimin cry harder.

And then he coughs out a lily petal.

A/N: The alternative ending is now up! It’s not compulsory to read, but if you wanted to!

sequel: bloom II

Masterlist

#btssmutclub #bts au #bts fic #bts imagine #jimin x reader #bts jimin x reader #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin angst #dom!jimin #sub!jimin #hanahaki au #bts!hanahaki

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bookenders · 5 years

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Happy Storyteller Saturday~! 💖 Let's see... I'd love to learn more about your Fish Food cast, how about: If each oc had to (and I mean HAD TO. No getting out of this >.>) participate in an art exhibition of some kind, what would they make? Is it actually good? Would they enjoy making it?

Storyteller Saturday!

Ah, @quilloftheclouds, continuing your tradition of asking me questions that make my brain run off into the sunset with an army of ideas, I see. 💜

I think I’ll take this one in a few different directions. I’ll do one for them as heroes/villains and one for them as off-duty civilians. The civilian ones will be listed first. And as for them being good, that’s up to you!

This got long, so my very fun answers are under the cut!

Iron Will: One of his powers is structure-strengthening, which is also his favorite (because it’s the most helpful without being too damaging, of course), so he’d make a big twisty metal sculpture that looks like a demolished building. But if you look at it from certain angles, it takes the form of twisted metal bird wings. At a glance, you wouldn’t be able to tell how in the hell this thing is staying together. The artist is just that good. (Nope, he’s cheating, but he doesn’t care. Might as well use what you’ve got, right?) And he does enjoy making it. It’s not often that he gets to use his powers the way he wants to.

His hero one would likely be co-opted by the Coalition and turned into a big PR stunt because the poor guy can’t catch a break. I see it involving making statues by touching a big marble/stone block and strengthening the shape of the statue within it before they smash it and the statue emerges. Every sculptor’s dream. It works to show off his powers, his skill with said powers, give the COH some positive community-based PR, and show everyone how powerful they are. Will thinks it’s dumb, difficult, boring, and needlessly complicated.

Overseer: His civilian exhibition would be something goofy like making gingerbread houses out of circuit boards.

His villain one would be a little more intense, since he has to impress the higher-ups. And he’s got one word for you: drones. Programmed aerial drone sculptures a la Superbowl Lady Gaga. Drones flying around like swarms of swallows and bats. Drones programmed to fly in the shapes of heroes who get defeated by the great villains of the council. He goes absolutely hog-wild with it.

Lithium: As a civilian, an open house of her bar with all of the hero memorabilia all over the walls specially lit for artistic viewing, accompanied by multi-media projections/holograms of life-sized heroes walking around among the patrons (she totally asks Overseer for help with this). As a hero, a black and white photo collage of her high-fiving people she’s saved interspersed with her high-fiving the villain’s she’s helped arrest. All on the scene and in costume, of course.

The first would be social commentary on how people tend to idolize heroes while they exist as “one of us,” walking among the masses just like anyone else. The second would be commentary on how villains and civilians are one and the same, just requiring different methods of intervention. Both would get her reprimanded by Coalition HR, of course. Making Statements isn’t something the Coalition likes their employees to do. (She super duper doesn’t care though. My goofy headcanon is that she laminates her favorite reprimand letters and puts them in a photo album that she proudly displays in her living room.)

She loves making both of these because 1) she gets to show off her pride and joy and 2) she gets to stick it to the Man.

[She’d try being a human trampoline first before giving up on it after she convinces Iron Will to jump on her stomach to test it out, quickly realizing that it is a terrible idea.]

Babylon: They see this as a waste of time, but hey, there’s no getting out of it, so might as well make the most of the situation. But they wouldn’t put very much effort into it unless it’s for work.

As a civilian, they’d probably just transcribe a bunch of popular songs into the International Phonetic Alphabet and watch, very amused, as people try to read the lyrics out loud.

As a hero, they’d make sure only agents of the Coalition were invited, because their piece is a two-parter: First, a wall on which a bunch of head molds of various people are hung. Nearby are boxes of props, prosthetics, hats, wigs, glasses, makeup, etc. It’s an interactive exhibit based on disguise. Second, on the opposite wall, a neat collage of full color photographs of what appear to be 20 different people, but are all Babylon in various disguises. Is it braggy? Definitely. Do they care? Definitely not.

Nightmare: This one’s tough. Let’s see…

As a civilian, she’d do something like paint a huge mural in one of the poorer neighborhoods mocking the propaganda posters the Coalition puts out every once in a while. She’s big into satire.

As a villain… she’s practically the head of the CIIP, so it’d have to be big. Part of me says that she’d paint all the streets to mimic a Monopoly game board to make fun of the city’s not great economy, but that’s too tame. Since her power is inducing panic responses, I think she might collect blackmail material on as much people as possible and post it anonymously all over the city. No names, no identifying information, just dark, embarrassing information spread in the dead of night. That’s sure to send everyone into a panic.

Sparkplug: Her civilian art piece would be forging very cool light metal prosthetics and gifting them to veterans. She shouldn’t be the only one with a very cool and comfortable free one. Spread the love, as she says.

Her hero (or, rather, mercenary) exhibition would be hacking into large screens all over the city and showing real footage from heroes’ body cameras during big battles. Nothing too graphic, though. Just the kind of footage that shows people what it’s really like being a hero for the Coalition.

Hydrophase: Well, since I haven’t fully revealed what happened to him yet, I’ll include him for funsies. His civilian exhibition… hmm. I think he’d do something with old t-shirts. Like start a community project to collect people’s old shirts and make quilts out of them or somethin’ and donate them after the exhibition. He’s a nostalgic guy.

As a hero, I think he’d make one of those splash pad things that kids play on at malls and water parks and stuff, since his power is water-based. It’d be on an elevated platform and he’d stand under it and control all the water spouts and things and invite neighborhood kids to come play because he’s a very good dude. He has just as much fun as the kids.

There’s also a secret character who appears halfway through the story. I don’t wanna reveal who they are just yet, but what I can say is that their exhibition would be sword sculptures.

#ender answers #storyteller saturday #quilloftheclouds #Fish Food #art exhibition #FF Iron Will #FF Overseer #FF Babylon #FF Lithium #FF Nightmare #FF Sparkplug #FF Hydrophase #my ocs

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sqsupernova · 5 years

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Author Interview - super_nerdy

We sat down with @super-nerdy-chick to talk about The Queen and Her Huntress, their process, and their Supernova adventure!

How do you form your stories? Do you outline beforehand or write by the seat of your pants? Do you write linearly or out of order?

It usually starts with one big idea- the main thing that's driving the story. It could be an idea about the climactic scene, or maybe the twist at the very end. Once I have that, I just write whatever comes to me first. Usually it's all out of order and then I have to go back and sew the pieces together like a quilt.

My ideas usually come to me while I'm sleeping, which can be really frustrating sometimes. I either have an idea come to me in the middle of a dream, or just as I'm about to drift of to sleep my brain goes "you know what's a great idea? ..." I learned a long time ago to keep a flashlight and a notebook by my bed, because I know that I will NOT remember any of it in the morning.

What in your fic are you most proud of?

I guess the characterization- I feel like I did a pretty good job at capturing the way I saw all of them in my head.

Is there anything you'd change now?

Yes! But that's because I really overthink my stories. I nitpick everything, which is probably one of the many causes of my writer's block.

How do you deal with writers' block?

Cry. Just kidding- it is such a hard thing to deal with. I have my own original novel I've been trying to write for over THREE YEARS now. Work, life- they have a big part to play in that. I have to say that having the deadline really helped me. It gave me a goal to work towards.

Another thing I've found that helps me is finding songs that fit that particular story and creating a playlist. (I have one for this story too, if anyone wants to hear it I can give a link). But I don't just choose songs based on the lyrics- it's also the feeling they invoke. The words themselves might not work with the story at all, but the music makes you feel the way I hope my writing does. The emotions are the same.

It also really helps to have someone you can bounce ideas off of. All of those things played a bit part in this story actually getting finished. Thank you to my best friend Amanda for listening to my crazy ramblings about my fics- she helped me SO much. And a tremendous thank you to my beta reader and cheerleader!

Was this Supernova experience different than your typical writing experience?

Yes, there were so many people in the fandom who were participating too that were so kind and willing to help me figure out any parts I was stuck on. Thank you dear SQ family!!

Any advice to other writers who might want to write a longfic, or participate in Supernova next year?

-When you come up with an idea, make sure it's one you would want to read, even if you think you're the only person in the world who'd want to read it. Don't try to write a story that you're not even a little bit passionate about. Otherwise it'll show in your writing. (And I guarantee that there's at least one other person out there who'll love it too).

-Beta readers/cheerleaders are there for a reason- use them! Reach out to them and get help if you're stuck or just want some words of encouragement.

-Try to find some inspiration in any way you can. Whether it be through movies, books, music. Figure out what genre your story would be (romance, horror, comedy) and find work that is similar. How do they build the tension and fear in horror? How do they set up the best punchlines in a comedy? Really examine them and even take notes of what sticks out. The emotions you feel at a certain point, what they did to illicit those feelings in you. How you would be able to do that with your own story.

-It can be really hard to stay motivated, even with the help of the cheerleaders. It's okay to feel that way. Try to set goals for yourself, and then reward yourself when you complete them. For example: If I finish this chapter tonight, I'll watch an extra episode of that show I like. Having goals to reach is really helpful, even if they're small.

-Do it!!! Even if you're nervous; it is so worth it. At first I was doubtful to participate, and now I'm so glad I did. This has been a really wonderful experience, and I encourage everyone to do it.

You can read The Queen and Her Huntress on AO3, along with super_nerdy’s other works! And don’t forget to feed the author!

#swan queen #sqsn spotlights: author interview #sqsn spotlights: the queen and her huntress

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viscommvisualdiary · 3 years

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Nature’s Design

By Michelle Hogan 3072370

I want to kick off this blog with an image I took recently in my hallway at home. I took a picture because the moment really stopped me in my tracks. It was one of those days where you get the four seasons in one and there had just been a heavy shower of rain when the sun decided to make a break through the clouds.

Rainbows occur when sunlight enters a water droplet, slowing down and bending as it goes from air to denser water, the light reflects off the inside of the droplet, separating into its component wavelengths or colors. When light exits the droplet, it makes a rainbow.

Rainbows are simple things we are all familiar with, we draw pictures of them as children and learn about colours from a young age by examining rainbows. Their elusive nature tends to give them a mysterious or magical aura in some ways.

I just loved this moment when this rectangular patch of ‘rainbow’ or refraction made its way onto the wall, like a missing square from a patchwork quilt.

I particularly loved the moment that it caught my eye I was lucky enough to meet it twice, once on the wall and once reflected in the mirror almost like it was showing off; so good you see it twice. But of course this was just being in the right place at the right time to see a fleeting glimpse of nature’s design inviting itself into my hallway. A reminder of the chaos that exists in nature, its beauty and how little control we have over it.

The reason I am bringing it up here to begin this blog (in quite a long winded way - apologies, all my posts won’t be this long I’m sure!) is because it perfectly sets out the foundation upon which this visual diary will be based.

I mean that in two ways - in one way related to colour and I just want to appreciate the existence of colour, where it comes from, how all the colours we know and love and take for granted on our screens all came from somewhere originally and I think the rainbow here serves to bring that thought back to basics perfectly. According to this reading by NS Sundaresan it takes the worlds of chemistry, physics and biology to understand colour. It is a universal phenomenon and I think it’s important to note that before moving forward.

The other point to start this blog on is the appreciation for the human ability to interpret things visually. This first blog post is an appreciation for the science and the philosophy of vision. What an amazing thing it is to be able to see. The journey that this light made from the sun to earth, through the glass door, bending through the water droplets, forging forth to shine through onto the wall, into the mirror, into my eye and my brain and for these thoughts to all emerge as a result and end up in this blog is a fascinating one even the most seasoned globetrotter couldn’t compete with. (Not to mention the light being captured in the camera on my phone and now uploaded here to share with you!)

Donovan’s Sunshine Superman springs to mind every time I see this image now. And I’ll leave you with the lyrics that are sure to get stuck in your head… “Sunshine came softly, through my, window today…”

Image Source: Taken by me on iPhone 7

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shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years

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Pixey has released her new EP Free To Love in Colour as well as the video for stand out track 'The Mersey Line'. Speaking about the EP, she says: “I wanted a collection of tracks which gave a quick snapshot into me and my brain – where I’m from, where I want to be and what I’m thinking about. I hope people can take something meaningful from it or simply have a dance.” Of the new video for ‘The Mersey Line’, she adds: “‘The Mersey Line’ video was shot in one day at all my favourite haunts around the city. The song itself is about the walkway line along the River Mersey, so we retraced the steps I used to take as a kid and also when I was starting out as a musician. I would write lyrics to my songs along the same path. I wanted something that sums me up wholly as a person, and I’d say the video does just that.” [via Dork]

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After turning a short TikTok video shot in her car into an empowering body acceptance anthem with over 70 million streams, Vancouver-based pop singer and songwriter JESSIA shares the music video for her breakthrough anthem 'I’m not Pretty' via Artist Driven Records/Republic Records. Watch the video directed by Benjamin Lussier. In the visual, JESSIA steps through the looking glass to confront her insecurities in a playful and tongue-in-cheek kind of way and falls down a rabbit hole into an imaginary yet cinematic eye-popping peach filled wonderland inspired by Roald Dahl’s ‘James and The Giant Peach’. The video illuminates the rising artist’s fun and quirky persona, which is as infectious as the song itself. On shooting the video for 'I’m not Pretty' JESSIA says, “Filming the music video was such a surreal experience. I kept looking around set and asking myself, ‘are all of these people here for me and my song? What? Am I really here right now? What a time. It was such a party on set! SUCH A BLAST!”

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Feminism often focuses on the pressures placed on women in society, but men face their own set of pressures as well, and these are very much connected to the oppression women face. Would we have such high rates of domestic abuse if men weren’t taught to express themselves through violence? Would the sexual assault epidemic be what it is if straight men were not taught to view women as conquests? And if men could be free from these constraints, how would the world look different? Stockholm-based pop artist Elin Blom, known by her stage name FELIN, explores questions like these in her latest single 'Dear Boys,' an open letter to men who commit violence and mistreat women. “Dear guys/did your parents treat you right?/or did they teach you not to cry?” she sings against deceptively upbeat drums and bass. The song is intentionally poppy with an edge and roughness to it. Written at an all female writing camp in Stockholm, it utilizes an all-female writing and production team. With the single, Blom wanted to send her listeners the message that “it isn’t manly to be an asshole and not care about how you treat your children or care about how you treat women,” she says. “It isn’t manly to crack sexist jokes; that’s just rude behavior. It’s way more manly and brave to wear a dress no matter what your friends think, or to speak up against abuse or abusive and sexist language.” In the video she looks at the more positive side of the equation, celebrating people who don’t confirm to their gender roles with shots of actors exhibiting a variety of gender expressions and styles. In the beginning, she speaks out loud: “My heroes are those who dare to express who they are, fully, with no holding back. This is about those heroes; this is their moment. It was important for us to find a mix of men in different ages, with different sexualities and backgrounds, to show that it’s okay to wear [whatever] and be whoever you want no matter what you do for work, where you come from, or where you live,” she tells Audiofemme. [via Audiofemme]

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For a record about the tedium of teenage life in the suburbs, 'Wasteland' is quite the grandiose introduction. The first single released ahead of Alex McArtor’s Welcome to the Wasteland EP introduces the project as both an opus of both catchy electropop and swelling orchestral compositions, all cowering behind the bold, slightly country-twanged voice of the young vocalist. The single arrives today alongside a darkly bizarre visual co-directed by (with Dwyer O’Brien and Ava McArtor) and co-starring (with O’Brien, Ava, and Campbell Barton) the vocalist, with McArtor name-dropping David Lynch as an influence. “‘Wasteland’ is the opening scene of this sonic film I had in my mind that turned into the Welcome to the Wasteland EP,” she shares. “It sets up the characters that are present throughout the rest of the EP and the environment in which they live, both spiritually and physically. ‘Wasteland’ represents a person, a place, or a feeling of recognizing a dead end. It’s like being stuck inside this geodesic dome and feeling controlled or watched by Big Brother and yet knowing that there is something else going on somewhere else.” [via FLOOD]

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Back in January, Quilt frontwoman Anna Fox Rochinski announced her solo debut Cherry. The latest cut from Cherry is called 'Everybody’s Down.' Here’s what Rochinski had to say about it: “'Everybody’s Down' is a song that’s meant to be a little abstract but is generally about feeling run down and bewildered by rampant complicity during catastrophic times. EVERYBODY’S down, including you and me. And yes, also, “down” like bummed, if that speaks to you. And yes, also “down” as in, just casually down to do something, like, down to go grab food with your homies or whatever. It’s a triple entendre. We all feel all of these things every day. It’s a lot. Literally all I can do anymore to stay sane is have a sense of humor and laugh at stuff. I am so much less randomly sentimental than I used to be, but I think it’s because I have learned what really deserves my love and attention. There was a primordial version of this song that I brought in to (album producers) Carlos and Julian, but in the studio, we would visit it at the end of the night after all our serious work was done and throw stuff at the wall to see what would stick. It was like a way to release tension, and we didn’t take it very seriously. We made this minimal, weird, scuzzy instrumental with bass, guitar, synth and programmed drums, and I then took this raw creation home and worked out the structure and the melody and lyrics. In the end, I fell in love with this song, much to my surprise." Musically, 'Everybody’s Down' continues Rochinski’s exploration into a plastic disco-funk like its predecessors. It’s accompanied by a video directed by OTIUM. [via Stereogum]

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Molly Lewis is a world-renowned whistler from Australia. In recent years she has been based in Los Angeles, where her Café Molly events have supposedly attracted the likes of Karen O and Mac DeMarco. Now the esteemed indie label Jagjaguwar announced that it has signed Lewis. Her first single for Jagjaguwar, 'Oceanic Feeling,' is out now. It’s a peculiar song with an even more peculiar video. 'Oceanic Feeling' is a wordless ballad that, between its high lonesome gallop and Lewis’ whistled melody, seems like it could be shoehorned into an old Spaghetti Western. But there are also elements of lounge jazz and exotica in the mix, particularly when Leon Michels’ saxophone enters halfway through. In the video, Lewis dresses like a medieval maiden(?) and music-adjacent Hollywood star and Café Molly regular John C. Reilly mimes the sax part while wearing an outfit that recalls the Burger King. I am not sure if any of this could be described as “good,” exactly, but it’s definitely unique! [via Stereogum]

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Mannequin Pussy have announced a new EP, Perfect, their first new material since 2019’s excellent Patience. Last week, the Philadelphia-based band announced that founding guitarist Thanasi Paul had left the band, which means that Mannequin Pussy are forging ahead as a three-piece. Last year, they got together to record five new songs with producer Will Yip, who also produced Patience, that were influenced by our past year of collective isolation. 'Control' is the first song they’re sharing from the EP, and it starts off slow and methodic, as bandleader Marisa Dabice insists: “I’m in control/ That’s what I tell myself/ When all the walls around me close in.” Mannequin Pussy’s songs have often been about trying to enforce some control over uncontrollable emotions and exploding when that’s just not possible, and sure enough 'Control' bursts apart in its second half, a dizzying but still pretty escalation of guitars and noise. [via Stereogum]

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Bloxx have dropped a brand new single, ‘Everything I’ve Ever Learned’. The track is the first new material from the band since last year’s debut album Lie Out Loud, and is produced by Rich Turvey (Blossoms, Oscar Lang). Speaking about ‘Everything I’ve Ever Learned’, Fee Booth explains: “The last two years for me have been very difficult, with health scares and anxiety hitting the roof. This song was really important in my journey to stop trying to understand everything, and to just accept the cards you’re dealt and make it work for you. It taught me to keep holding on, even when your grip is loose. The depth of what it means to me as a person is so crazy for just a four minute piece of music. It faces the trials of life, and everything that you wish you’d have been taught before having to face it all brutally, in the real world. It’s basically a self help song, it’s for everyone that needs to hear it. “You should learn to hold on, it’s not the end of the world” [via Dork]

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Before the pandemic hit, beabadoobee was set to tour with Phoebe Bridgers and Dirty Hit labelmates The 1975. While that trek obviously never got on the road, the UK-based songwriter still managed to link up with 1975’s Matty Healy and George Daniel to collaborate on the follow-up to her excellent debut album, Fake It Flowers. beabadoobee is now previewing that effort, cleverly titled Our Extended Play EP, with the new single 'Last Day on Earth'. Fans have long known of the mutual appreciation between bea and Healy, and the pair have been teasing their collaboration for some time. The new single is rather clearly the result of beabadoobee’s sound meeting The 1975’s. That distinct ’90s indie melody that made Fake It Flowers one of 2020’s best albums carries through here, only now the vocal cadences recall some of Healy’s more measured moments. The result is a dreamier, more lighthearted beabadoobee, further closing the gap between the nostalgic styles that originally inspired her and modern indie music. Unsurprisingly, it remains as infectious as anything either artist involved in its creation has ever done. “With this EP, it’s kind of alluding to the fact that I kind of want to, you know, have a sound that sounds like beabadoobee rather than someone saying it reminds them of something else,” beabadoobee tells Consequence. “I don’t think it’s a whole new era just yet… I still have blonde hair, the same blonde I had for Fake It Flowers, and every EP I have is almost like who I am right now — right this second. That’s everything I write about in this EP. I haven’t really changed my look and I always base eras on my look, like, ‘Oh, what color am I going to dye my hair this time?’ But I’m pretty comfortable right now. I’m pretty chill.” 'Last Day on Earth' comes with a video directed by Arnaud Bresson of Division Paris. The clip finds beabadobee exploring all the things she would have done if she’d known normalcy would be stripped from us a week in advance. [via Consequence of Sound]

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Inspired by Nestlé TV adverts, K-Pop music videos and the Oscar-nominated 70s film Five Easy Pieces, Irish pop icon CMAT has shared a new video to accompany her fourth single ‘I Don’t Really Care For You’. Adorned in a fabulous snake-skin blazer and skirt combo, the pop starlet performs an impressive and joyful dance routine opposite a mute bearded beauty who’s Instagram followers are set to double in the next few hours. “The director Eilís approached me some time ago to make a music video, and I really wanted it to be for ‘I Don’t Really Care For You’ because I knew she would be able to capture the high energy mood of the song, and also we are into the same old, niche and ugly design stuff,” CMAT explains. “The dream sequence was inspired by a Nestle ad from the 1980s. The choreographer, Nick, made my dreams come true. I was like, ‘I want to dance like Blackpink, but I have absolutely no technical ability whatsoever.’ I think that much is evident in the video but we pulled it off!” Full of CMAT’s lush, yearning vocals, relatable lyrics and Americana-tinged guitars, ‘I Don’t Really Care For You’ is a song that sees her swallow her pride and admit to sometimes being “the bigger dickhead in a relationship.” The witty set of accompanying visuals show CMAT at her finest, exuding a charisma that lights up the screen as she leans into “the Marian Keyes of it all.” [via Get In Her Ears]

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Nordic pop sensation Anna Of The North has shared her new single 'Here's To Another'. The songwriter swoops back into action, crafting a follow up to her Internationally successful 2019 album Dream Girl. A new album will follow later this year, with 'Here's To Another' finding its way online. An all-out Scandi pop banger from one of the best in the game, the single is a finely sculpted slice of electronic melody. 'Here's To Another' twists and contorts, before its final head-long release results in a glorious chorus. [via Clash]

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American songwriter Natalie Bergman has shared new song 'Home At Last'. The new single dips into her country and Americana roots, while adding some soothing gospel elements. There's some sumptuous harmonies sitting around her voice, a soft pillow for Natalie Bergman to relax into. The beautiful video is online now, shot in an abandoned chapel, one that brings out new meaning to her lyrics: “Answer my prayer, when a great man falls and the skies collapse, where’s the joy in this world, is he home at last?” Natalie explains... “I have always written songs about ‘home.’ A place that is not on this earth. It brings me a great deal of comfort knowing that place is waiting for me - especially when life can be so alienating and lonely... In the video for ‘Home At Last’ I found a small chapel in Los Angeles and the moment I saw the stained-glass... I felt like it belonged to me. One of the best things about making music is sharing it with the people you love. Playing it with your friends and family. I invited my favorite artists to be a part of this performance and I asked them to think about what heaven might look like to them.” [via Clash]

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UK band Crawlers may only have three other singles but they’re definitely not your standard alternative indie underdog. The group of four secured air time on BBC radio and were featured in two Spotify editorial pages. Their new single 'Statues' came out on the nineteenth. It only proves this bands remarkable character. The vocals corrosively discharge acerbic phrases, “You make me so calm, let the statues fall”. Holly Minto invites you to participate in tormented ambiance. The guitar slays the entire track, no thanks to Amy Woodall, jolting the listener out of an ignorant slumber. The guitar makes for a perfect incumbent of the perforating bass put down by Liv Kettle. Now the drumline is a total antithesis, very classic rock/n/roll. Harry Breen takes on the persona of a grounding buddha by producing a converse rhythm. It’s like he is having this eloquent conversation with the rest of the instrumentals. [via Sounds Good]

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Nashville-based songwriter Madi Diaz releases her new single/video, 'New Person, Old Place.' Madi recently marked a full restart of her career with the evocative 'Man In Me,' a first offering showing how she’s capable of distilling profound feelings with ease. While 'Man In Me' took Madi through her first steps of a really hard time, 'New Person, Old Place' presents her further down the road, after processing the pain and loss of a breakup. She uses specific diction to describe feelings that are typically hard to verbalize: “I used to stay up on the off chance that you might call me back / I used to go shopping for pain go through pictures it’s all I had / I’d sift through our memories and live there even when I wasn’t sad / I used to, I used to, but now I don’t that.” Madi elaborates: “This was a moment I realized I wanted to start to learn how to do it not better, not worse, but just different… and then something shifted. Something in my heart finally knocked loose and I was breathing deeper. It’s hard as hell, breaking patterns and unlearning all the old shit, trying to shut all the doors that I used to open to let all the same hurt happen over and over. I’m at least learning to find new doors. ‘New Person Old Place’ is a mantra. A line that I’m casting into the future so that I have something to guide me forward. It’s something of a reminder that if my heart is the house that I carry with me wherever I go, I can take it somewhere new, or I can do the same old thing I always do but backwards or with a cartwheel, and I can repaint and I can rearrange the furniture. I can clean the mirrors so I see myself true and clear.” The 'New Person, Old Place' video was directed by $ECK and shot in Madi’s pickup truck throughout Nashville. The video follows Madi on a journey to the salvage yard, driving different versions of herself there to face her history.

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Following the release of her viral rock cover of Miley Cyrus's 'Midnight Sky', which garnered over 341.5K views, Izzy T is unveiling her explosive new single 'Nuclear.' Featuring UK rap artist Ben Hunter, the almighty alt-rock-pop fireball of energy combines electric, raucous sass in a mix of fearsome beats and muffled, gritty guitar. Screaming enough is enough, the mantra of this song sits on a tidal wave of frustration, narrating the darkside of a relationship and how people can become the furthest thing from who they really are. Izzy shares, “This song has really paved the way for my new sound as an artist. I love big crunchy guitars and stompy beats, and the freedom to go from low and creepy, to high as the clouds with my voice!” With an underlying theme of empowerment in dark times, Izzy provides a voice that we can cling on to, emphasizing that we can do whatever we put our minds to.

#videos of the week #pixey #jessia #felin #alex mcartor #anna fox rochinski #molly lewis #mannequin pussy #bloxx #beabadoobee #cmat #anna of the north #natlie bergman #crawlers #madi diaz #izzy t

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kateemmerson · 6 years

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Confessions of a location free maverick - it's over!

Confessions of a location free maverick – it’s over! How the Pretend Cat and the Pet Rock are changing the landscape of my life. I find it deeply ironic and bizarre how I can go from travelling the world with ridiculously minimal belongings (even minimal for miss LIVE LIGHT, LIVE LARGE over here) and living mostly out of a suitcase for the past 2.5 years … to buying Tupperware, water containers, dishcloths, coffee plunger, bins and gasp of all gasps, kitty food – because I suddenly find myself with a “pretend” cat and a huge pet rock! Neither of which will fit in my suitcase, which can mean only one thing – a little home again.

Chances are you might have some insight into my motto, my life work and how I have been gallivanting around the world to speak, run writing retreats, masterminds and work with the YPO? And laze on beaches of course! Yet with this lifestyle comes the highest of global highs and the lowest of lonely lows.

Every decision we make has consequences on all sides. There is really no such thing as a decision that doesn’t have pro’s and con’s. That’s delusional. It’s just about choosing the ones that you most prefer, that bring you more joy and meaning, isn’t it? It’s not that any decision is better than any other one. And decisions are never usually forever are they? We get to choose and re-decide further down the line, whether about how we think or what we own, to what we do in the world and where we live.

I have been living with the consequence of choosing to have no home for the recent past. It’s a feeling of deliriousness combined with displacement. Sometimes it is truly a joyful experience, easy to broadcast on Instagram pics, carefully curated into an authentic feed, or a hopefully motivational post and pics of exotic food whilst lounging by the sea. New spaces, places and delights at every corner. Yet it’s not ALL wild, laugh-inducing adventures and Pollyanna playtime.

It’s also the polar opposite – sometimes a scary, wide open world knowing no one, needing to constantly be wondering where the next pit stop is, can I convert enough ZAR into USD to survive a northern currency, where will my work call me to (from Lagos, to Dubai to San Francisco), other people’s reactions to being “homeless” when I say I am #locationfree. Yes, but where is your home, Kate?

I have personally found that whilst my senses are constantly being awoken and titivated, it’s simultaneously a tad grueling on my body and takes me longer to adjust to new surroundings to feel totally integrated. I have stayed in the best of 5* hotels, to revolting homes I housesat (that really should have been a three week, massively paid declutter job). I do find it easy to feel at home in someone else’s space, but have become way more susceptible to the energy of the house and how it impacts me. So it has been in short, the past 2.5 years have been a profoundly intriguing, enlightening time.

Being a #locationfree maverick naturally takes some toll on my committed relationship with ENP and yet also provides us both with space to really miss each other. Even when I do make Lesvos, the world renowned Lesbian pilgrimage island, (where the 10th muse and lyrical poetess Sappho was born), my destination of choice. He doesnt batt an eyelid- and that tells you everything about him! Friends delight in my pics, tales and gifts, but also beg to know when I’m coming “home” – I remind them I don’t call SA ‘HOME’ anymore. You know how when you speak to people in the UK (yes Mum, that’s you!) and they bleat on about the weather? Well, pretty much every time I speak to a dear friend they cannot help themselves but ask, “so when are you in SA again”? I have done my best to implore them to not say when are you coming “home”. Or even when are you BACK. Those words imply it will suck me back into its clutches, and SA honestly is no longer home. It’s a beautiful and complex place that for many decades was my home, where I still work and see ENP and my friends. I have awesome clients there and … it is simply no longer my home! I am being called north again, and have been for the past 4 years, ever since I first traveled to the USA. So, I typically say I am simply where I am right now and thank God for the likes of Skype, Whatsapp and Zoom.

At the start of this process of packing up my home in JHB, I always knew I would be location free for a year at least; then after a year had flown by I had no desire for it to be any different; my travel trajectory was as delicious and busy for the year ahead, so I just kept at it. Living with 90% of my belongings with me, three boxes in storage and traveling to places MOSTLY in summer or the shoulder spring and autumn to obliterate the need for huge bulky clothes.

But towards the end of last year, even though I am in a beautiful, committed relationship to a man who just adores and trusts me to live my life with no betrayal to us, and vice versa, I found myself feeling somewhat lonely (whilst meeting new people everyday), restless (whilst constantly moving), bored (even though I see and experience more in day that some do in a year) and just a tad unsettled (yet this was my very own choosing wasn’t it?)

The irony of this insight is never lost on me.

Enter a pretend cat and bit pet rock!

It is not about needing to be in ONE PLACE forever; I am not that type. I have gypsy energy in my very DNA, and love traveling just so much. But after not having anywhere other than my heart and body to call “home” for 2.5 years, I was starting to inch towards the idea of a little space I could “claim” as my own. ENP is unraveling his life in SA too, and these global swallows need a new nest/s.

I remember the day I was housesitting the most GLORIOUS home right on the San Francisco bay, in Pointe Richmond and having this feeling of being so blessed by the beautiful home I find myself in whilst I travel, but I suddenly had this overwhelming longing to have a space for me. A space where I might be able to leave a costume and a pen, maybe even my art. A space I could imprint myself on. It was a little bit of a surprise. It also took the natural transition of my 50th Birthday in April this year to shift me into this next phase. I needed to close out some big commitments before I had the space for this phase.

So the logical heartwarming place for my first little space in the northern hemisphere was Greece. I am even toying with the idea of buying a home, but am rather just putting my feelers out this year. Getting to understand the lay of the land. What is it like to have another little base and how does that impact my life and me again? And others around me? And so, in the gorgeous, remote and truly authentic Greek village called Skala Eressos that I have been visiting for the past 3 years (with writers on our retreats), a space where I have built a community and with one of the most beautiful beaches in all of Greece, I found myself negotiating a contract for a light airy apartment for a year. A year!

Confession #1: It IS totally glorious to say I have a place I can call home EVEN though I will also “rent” it out to visitors, friends and colleagues. I have the coolest pet rock (see below) – my nan used to paint rocks so this is highly divine for me – but yikes, it’s a biggun, and will never fit into a case, so I guess I am destined to stay a while. See pic of beautiful rock complete with my name! It all came about when I asked my landlady if she had any door stoppers, a huge grin erupted on her face and she said she had a rock half painted, and she would complete it for me. All my favourite colours, the coolest of flamingos and my names emblazoned across it, lest I forget where I am.

Confession #2: Having a kitty on my bed again makes me deeply joyful. When my beautiful landlady said yes I could claim her little apartment as mine, she said I was an angel for her, but the truth is she is an angel for me. Letting me love her kitty, bringing me oregano bouquets, painting me my very own pet rock as a doorstop so I don’t wake the whole village when I sneak out to write my morning pages on the verandah, lending me a bike, fixing stuff I ask to be fixed and just being delightful – along with FANTASTIC English.

Confession #3: I am startlingly amused by just how insanely fast I wanted to buy “STUFF” Not a lot of stuff, for sure, but it is still amusing. And I want my Nan’s hand-made patchwork quilt here on my bed – NEXT TRIP! Unless you are coming to visit and will bring it with? And how Mum gifted me the most exquisite handmade, olive wood TAVLI – Backgammon set! Oh, the joys of a little place for STUFF!

Confession #4: I am plotting my return here – my coming BACK HOME. I have already started inviting friends here, seeing as I never pulled it off for my 50th earlier this year– 51 seems just as fabulous a time to gather on an island! Perhaps I can also entice my Mum to visit a second time with the pretend promise to eat more meals at home to stretch the budget.

Confession #5: I fell off my bike and swore like a trooper – because my sundress was hitched around my thighs and I got stuck as I hurled myself towards the pavement. It was a “boy” bike with a big crossbar and so as my huge, white sun hat flew off my head when going down the hill, I panicked and tried to slam on breaks to run after my hat before it picked up pace across the fields, never to be seen again. I just couldn’t extrapolate my legs and dress in time and got caught up in a heap. Tears welled, words flowed and I cannot tell you the relief after I had embarrassing walked my bike home with a bleeding toe and bruised ego, grease filled legs and finally turned the corner and saw “My home”.

Confession #6: Kitty food is now on my shopping list again. And I have a pet brush. Everyone laughed at me when I said I wanted one, but I found it in the Euro shop, and this kitty just LOVES being fussed over! Every now and then it feels like a betrayal to my beloved Stripey, but Nikos is my “pretend cat”. He is not really mine; I know that – just that we get to love each other furiously when I am here. When I told Ms. S that I was letting Nikos, the #gingersnap cat sleep on my bed, she nearly fell off her own feet. You are crazy Kate Emmerson. And yes I am, but when I walked home last night after devouring the most delicious “orange pie” oozing with syrup and a creamy cappuccino to wash it down, my heart did a little skip when I saw Nikos waiting for me at the end of the road – a bit out of his usual comfort zone. My Greek is shocking, so I speak to him in English, (other than a strong reprimand of OCHE when he wants to get agro) and we ambled off down the road side-by–side, ready for a little cuddle.

Confession #7: Yes. I miss you, ENP. Every day! But you are in Russia at the world cup with all your Argentinian lads, doing what you love to do, and that makes me happy! Enough said we will entwine again in a few weeks when in the same country again.

Confession #8: I deeply love that my office of choice, Gialos on the platea, has exceptionally kind owners, friendly kitties and the most heavenly view on the planet! Along with great coffee, conversation and a way to observe this little village and all its folk – from Drug dealer, to prostitute to writers, foreigners who return year after year after and the locals getting ready for thier work day. A great place for writers to simply sit and observe…

With love from me, to you, from Skala Eressos and my new “home” – for now x

(And yes, I will be IN South Africa for August and September for work :) )

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Morning pages ….

Confessions of a location free maverick – it’s over! was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva

#changes #location free #new era #transformation

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redscullyrevival · 6 years

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Vid Notes

The process behind my Star Trek: Discovery vid “Flickering”.

Get a drink, this one is a dozy.

There is a lot (a lot, a lot, a lot) I love about Discovery’s first season as a trekkie and on many specific personal levels. But I’ll be honest, making this vid had me a little nervous because the fandom for this series and perceptions on this series’ connection to the wider franchise is a very intense place to be putting forth any fan works. Especially, I feel, a fan work such as the one I was deeply compelled to try and make; something free flowing that isn’t exactly directing any one solid opinion or thought on the series.

It feels to me that a very vocal part of this show’s audience wanted reassuring morals explained at face value more than they wanted to wade around in the presented media. Like, some of the Discovery crowd really wanted those captain log wrap ups y’all - at least that’s the take away I got through lurking the fandom tags in real time as the season progressed. Which isn’t necessarily a criticism, but personally I find the gimmie-info-and-answers-now approach towards art limiting and as a result was left feeling very out in the cold fandom-engagement wise with this series (which is something that’s really foreign to my experiences with Star Trek).

Which in turn has made for a new experience in me choosing to make this fan vid: As a form of self-assurance due to feeling dopey and jilted by strangers I wasn’t engaging with. Fuckin’ wild! I’m a mess.

“Flickering” is exactly the kind of vid I would not have shared last year, but I’m trying to push the boundaries of my comfort zone and continue on in the progress I’ve recently made. Years past I never would have wide shared “Dark Doo Wop” or “Take You There” either but here we are.

What I’ve tried to do with my edit is string the season’s contexts, primarily in the form of emotions and repeated imagery, together (in a previous post I explained it as “sewing seemingly unrelated contexts together like a big cozy feelings quilt”). I did not try to directly answer or comment on anything Discovery was saying except in the broadest sense of “lives are connected”.

I know though that the nature of vidding, of re-arranging given footage and stories, I can’t help but comment on them. It’s all a transformative act. The music and images I choose shape a new take on a shared audience experience. Cutting up Discovery changes the media to my will and thoughts even if I try to be impartial, but I wasn’t editing impartially anyway - that was never my goal!

My goal was to try and NOT shape a direct thesis. Which of course naturally shaped one, lol.

I have no desire to dictate my thought process for picking which scenes to use for which lyrics and why or any of that - I feel like the vid is pretty straight forward once you see it (as long as you have ~context~ of the show anyway). I will say though that this was one of the most extensive vids I’ve ever made planning wise.

Usually I make an outline of what I want to do in my vid and usually I’m vidding from media I know well so a simple outline with key words is enough to keep me on track as I fill in scenes towards my goal. This time around though, I basically edited the entire video on paper first with episode numbers, scene times, and lyrics; once at the computer I played seek-and-find and plugged in the numbers. The entire base edit was done in under three hours! But I had been compiling those chosen scenes on paper for almost two months. It was like a taste of the old VHS days.

As for the song, most of the time I hunt for songs for my vid projects; I tend to have an idea based on the media and then I find a song to best fit my preordained goal. That wasn’t the case this time around. I was kicking around two songs in my head when a few episodes into my rewatch I remembered a completely different song and suddenly an idea came with it, so that was kind of a new experience as well. Serpentwithfeet (Josiah Wise) is a phenomenal talent and the entire album Blisters is heavenly. If you hate my vid that’s fair but I don’t believe for a second anyone will fault the song.

Editing to a slow song is something I’ve rarely done and don’t have a lot of practice with. It was nice to be less held hostage by rhythmic editing but the freedom was at times a bit scary. I have to dictate my own cuts?! My god.

Using stock footage of “space” (ink on water) just felt right, to zoom out of the context for a moment. I found it helped with the pacing and gives things a more reflective bent. Maybe to some seeing the vast indifference of space makes them question, does anything matter? Personally I feel like zooming out into the cosmos doesn’t put the vid’s drama into perspective of “it’s all trivial” but rather “in all this, there are things that matter”.

Also, I just liked it. That’s the answer in tandem with the ‘artsy’ answer a lot of the time, okay?! I just liked it! Space is pretty!

I feel it’s obvious but there was no way to do this vid in narrative order. Most of my vids aren’t in strict chronological order of the media they use - but I absolutely rely on withholding narrative points until they are best exposed. Which is dumb editor talk for “I utilize narrative moments in my vids for impact.” I tried to not do that this time. Which was challenging as such a choice completely goes against my usual rhythm and tactics. I’m glad I tried it, it’s a form of experimentation I’ve thought about before but never got around to playing with until now (which factors into what makes me so nervous about sharing the final product - but I’m always nervous soooo).

While I was actively trying to not edit towards a build up (boy did it help that there is no chorus) I did go along with the turn of tone in the song and used it to direct the vid into a more positive outlook, although absolutely keeping everything still tied up with the negative. I wanted to try and parallel character’s successes with their failures, I wanted to show that how we respond to our failures can inspire successes. These characters, and of course we the audience, all have our own personal contexts of emotion and response but we’re also all linked and connected to other’s emotions and responses for good and for bad. No man is an island and all that.

Anyways, blahblahblah, literally none of that matters.

What I want is for people to feel a whimper of hope and the effort of improvement radiating off my vid, and if that happens even once then I’m happy. Other than that, I hope everyone brings whatever else they want to it.

#vid #vidding #editing #star trek #discovery #fandom talks #vid notes

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standbyphoenix · 7 years

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How River Phoenix’s Coming of Age Anticipated My Own by Rebecca Bengal [Vogue, August 23, 2015]

He was born, hard to believe, 45 years ago today, in Madras, Oregon, which later became a setting for the dreamy, disoriented roadside flashbacks in My Own Private Idaho. He was given the name River Jude; River for Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha, Jude for “Hey Jude.” His last name then was Bottom. So, yes . . . River Bottom.

His siblings were Rain, Liberty, Summer, and Joaquin. His parents, fruit pickers and missionaries, took the family to Venezuela where they sang on the street for money; only after splitting from the Children of God movement and stowing away on a cargo ship to Florida did they change their surname to Phoenix, after the Ancient Egyptian symbol of rebirth. Later, in Los Angeles, in a somewhat more settled-down life but still singing on street corners, young River was discovered, cast in commercials and films, eventually Stand By Me, where his performance as Chris Chambers first marked him as one of the most talented and promising actors in Hollywood—a prophecy he would live long enough to only partially fulfill.

Most of the early parts of this biography were chronicled in the terrible magazines I obsessively collected about River Phoenix, along with the standard height and weight and astrological and favorite color info. I didn’t care about that stuff. I was going to cut out all that and pin up his pictures all over my wall. I knew it was beneath River anyway: He said elsewhere that he lied to reporters half the time, and that made me like him even more. The favorite idiotic headline back then was usually some variation on “River Is Deep,” which seemed to me to hit even below the dubious abilities of whoever was running the show at Teen Beat. But River was deep. It was because of him, for instance, that I became a strict vegetarian in my small North Carolina town where no one had heard of tofu; for nearly a decade after he died I still didn’t eat meat. River was older; River was wiser. River was hot.

He was for me, simultaneously idol and crush, cast in the dual role of being both who I wanted to be like and who I wanted to make out with. I didn’t relate to the vapid girlfriend characters that proliferated on screen—the release of The Diary of a Teenage Girl this summer makes all the more apparent the lack of any girl characters at the time who were not only cool and worth aspiring to emulate, but remotely relevant to anything resembling real life. Meanwhile the boys were permitted to be dirty and funny and free.

River had some years on me, sure, but he was just the right age to look up to: older brother, older crush, the first person I saw every morning on the wall of my bedroom. His movies were about my own struggles—growing up, first loves and sex and first heartbreak, rebelling against your family, against the world; being drawn to darkness and escapism, but still, deep down, trying to be a good person. His coming of age anticipated mine.

“Kids lose everything unless there's someone there to look out for them. And if your parents are too fucked up to do it, then maybe I should,” said River - as Chris Chambers, tough and baby-Brando cool with his pack of smokes rolled up in his T-shirt, telling off his hoodlum brother Eyeball, his teachers, his parents, running away into the woods and perilously over a train trestle with his three best friends to find “the body of a dead kid.” I spent my own summers building forts in the woods, sneaking through bridge tunnels, desperate for that kind of adventure, as morbid as their mission was. He was sensitive and sage but he also had a pretty stupid, sarcastic, perverse sense of humor that struck a nerve with me, as vital a part of growing up as losing your virginity, gaining a sense of your own mortality, figuring out who your true friends were, and learning how to tell your authorities, now and then, to fuck off. Put me in front of a screening of Stand By Me and I can still recite every line.

In the canon of River Phoenix, the best of which also includes My Own Private Idaho, The Mosquito Coast, Running on Empty, and the underrated Dogfight and The Thing Called Love, there is a lot of learning to tell authorities, parents and otherwise, to fuck off, but that’s mediated within a larger, moral context: How do you simultaneously rebel against your parents while still loving them? How do you stand up to the rest of the world and its deep flaws, while also finding your own way in it?

Here’s River as Charlie Fox, son of eccentric inventor Allie (Harrison Ford), who uproots his family to a Central American jungle in The Mosquito Coast, Peter Weir’s film based on the Paul Theroux novel: “Once I had believed in Father and the world had seemed small and old. Now he was gone and I wasn't afraid to love him anymore. And the world seemed limitless.”

Running on Empty, directed by Sidney Lumet, for which Phoenix was nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, is loosely inspired by the Weather Underground—his character’s parents, played by Christine Lahti and Judd Hirsch,jumpsuit-clad seventies radicals, are in constant hiding from the government for an activist bombing they took part in years prior, and as a result the entire family abides by a code of constant name changes, hair dyes, an implicit agreement to never become close enough to anyone to reveal their true selves and thus incriminate the family. Their tiny homespun parties, dancing around the house to “Fire and Rain” are anonymous, bittersweet ones—“On our birthday, we’re all called Sam,” Danny tells his girlfriend Lorna, played by River’s real-life girlfriend Martha Plimpton. It’s the ultimate overprotectiveness, loving but suffocating. Wanting to go to college is as shattering a rebellion as falling in love, and in the film River does both.

Even My Own Private Idaho, Gus Van Sant’s brilliant 1991 film costarring Keanu Reeves, is essentially a film about family, as much as it is a gay film, as much as it is a drug film, as much as it is a road movie—“a crazy quilt of family romances” as critic Amy Taubin describes it. River’s narcoleptic street hustler character searches for reconciliation and connection, with such beautifully wrought, homesick desperation that he rebels even against himself. "He's put his lips as close to any street-gutter ooze as you can," Phoenix told The New York Times. "His cut-open flesh is as close to a stone brick wall as anything. He's part of the street. He's like a rat." It’s the darkest turn in Phoenix’s career; looking back now, it’s hard not to see it foreshadowing the end of his own life, two years later, and fates that very nearly befell certain people in mine. But by then, he’d gone somewhere beyond me.

“Everyone should survive their first rebellions. Dying defeats the whole point,” wrote Miranda July of River earlier this year in Vogue. If I’d relied upon River during my own coming of age, the sense of loss I felt at outliving his was a distant survivor's guilt, coupled with a loss that a larger world has publicly acknowledged, in angry and heartfelt and honorific ways, in song lyrics and apologies and speculation.

I don’t want to dwell on the details of River Phoenix’s death—today would have been his birthday after all, and it’s pointless, I think, to endlessly pontificate on what his life would have been had he lived beyond his earliest years to see it.

If he were here, I could only thank him for helping me make it through mine.

#river phoenix #river #phoenix #vogue #rio

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jerepars · 7 years

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Lionheart Extended Story Notes

Hyperlinks appear in blue (underlined on mobile). The story is posted here.

This chapter was a mission and a trip to write. As such, I think these notes are a doozy. I also think that this is utterly and completely self-serving, just more I can look back on in five years to recall what the hell I was thinking.

Like I said in the notes for the second chapter, I think that this whole story might just be character study and development. 14400+ words of character study. 5500+ words of a final chapter that thoroughly describes an alternative subculture that pretty much anyone reading won't relate to or won't care about. Wow. I think I might have outdone myself this time. I have truly gone off the deep end.

Jughead found American Graffiti on their hotel room TV. He paid mild attention to it while sitting at the small table where Betty had arranged the leftover snacks when they’d arrived before noon. The pitter-patter of his typing barely registered as his fingers flew over the surface of his laptop keyboard, a burst of inspiration from the city’s vibrancy hitting him.

Last time I referenced The Gaslight Anthem and how they often reference Bruce Springsteen. "High Lonesome" is one of those songs and it directly references "I'm on Fire" (actually there are multiple references to a bunch of different bands/artists in this song), the Springsteen song that I took inspiration from for the mood of the previous chapter. The rhythm of this song is always something I come back to when I think about lyrical prose, like the paragraph above. There are lines in the song that go and the pounding in the street was your heart in four-four time and the patter on the bar was just this one night and only to get by. I'm pretty sure I've described a heart beating in four-four time in a story before. So I went with 'pitter-patter' talking about typing, which isn't at all sophisticated, but it's there because of what it makes me think of.

But Betty wasn’t trying to be anyone else other than Betty. Her lips were painted in a mauve tone, the perfect mix of a shy violet and pink, with a brown undertone. That mauve was her color of the night, a study in contrasts. Innocent but sexual. Warm but cool. Ethereal but dangerous. A guiding light tinged with darkness. Beautiful imperfection.

So this is probably a good time to explain the chapter titles for the story. Every chapter title is actually a color in the Kat Von D line of makeup. I originally wanted to name every chapter after one of the liquid lipsticks. But there's no white liquid lipstick, so I had to get a little more creative and name the previous chapter after an eyeliner. One of the first things that came to mind when I decided I was going with the color theme in every chapter was that I wanted Betty to be wearing this mauve tone. Essentially, I wanted her to be wearing Lolita.

The reason I went with the color names from the Kat Von D collection is because of how they're named - they're references, too! The blue-toned red, Nosferatu (Chapter 1), is a horror movie. The rose color, Melancholia (Chapter 2), is not in reference to the 2011 film (I don't think), but the temperament of melancholia. The bold white, Neruda (Chapter 3), is in reference to the poet, Pablo Neruda. And this mauve with brown undertone, Lolita, is in reference to the book by Vladimir Nabokov.

It's weird (I'm weird, I'm a weirdo, have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on - that's weird, etc.) that I chose chapter titles based on makeup, of all things. But it seemed fitting.

They showed their IDs at the will call table set up by the basement entrance (it was an all-ages show so Jughead didn’t have to use his Delaware one) to collect their tickets and checked the set times posted on the door. There were people outside smoking, chatting, and laughing. Betty and Jughead listened to the first band from outside, enjoying the spring air, since the time spent finding parking meant that the show had already started briefly before they arrived. They talked about Hot Dog and Archie’s newest conquest and Jughead’s last collect call conversation with FP from prison.

Their topics of discussion presented them with some irony. They both wanted so badly to get out of Riverdale. They’d even scrambled to make their weekend plan work. So they could leave. But the town never left them.

Honestly, I still feel like this. And maybe a big part of who you are, who you grow up to be, is knowing where you came from and what you've left behind. No matter how far away I get from where I'm from, in distance and in mindset, part of it is always there. I wanted to include this part because I think that for people who don't forget where they come from--which I think is most people--it holds true.

They made it inside the venue during set change, just before the second band took the stage. The album of a not-hardcore band that Betty had on her New Jersey playlist played through the PA system while the stage was set up with a drum kit and amps. It was different than outside. The ceiling was low and the walls were wood-paneled. There was a colorful carpet that resembled a children’s patchwork quilt set down on the stage. The air was warm. But it wasn’t just the room full of body heat and chatter that made it feel that way. It was the same way that Betty’s choice of lip color made Jughead feel. It was an attitude.

Initially when I wrote this, I thought about the details of the all-ages venue that is local to me. But then I got sucked into the rabbit hole of my own love for research again. Over the years, while looking at tour dates and photos and videos for bands in indie/metal/punk/hardcore scenes, the venue that I've seen most for shows in Philadelphia has actually stuck with me. So the above description is based on the basement at the First Unitarian Church of Philadelphia. I always wondered why a church would be hosting bands that play grindcore or have upside down crosses and demons on their merchandise. Even simpler than that: why would a church be hosting bands that have explicit lyrics in their songs?

Eventually I found out that it's actually a really important venue to Philly's independent music scene. Kids involved in the local scene actually refer to the venue colloquially as 'The Church'. Typing in "First Unitarian Church Philadelphia" on YouTube yields years worth of video footage of bands, including the kind that Bughead would be there to see, playing the basement.

So. From Yelp, here's what it looks like empty, with the wood-paneled walls and low ceilings. Here's a picture where you can clearly see the carpet on the stage. And the not-hardcore band on Betty's New Jersey playlist on the PA system during set change? That's all because I watched a video of Lifetime playing at The Church from 1997.

The kids around all kind of looked like him, dark clothing and too many layers for the temperature of the room. Except instead of the scowl he usually carried on his face, everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there. He noticed the smiles that reached laugh lines. Handshakes and hugs as eyes met across the room; friends catching up and friends making new friends. It was just an all-ages show on a Saturday night. But it seemed to be so much more. Something therapeutic. Something sacred. Something special. In that room, with those kids, everything was unbreakable. The world couldn’t get to them and break their hearts.

I suppose this is the part of these notes where I reveal that a lot of what I was inspired by when thinking about this story, writing this story, writing this chapter, is probably regarded as cheesy hardcore? And that's okay. I know I'm cheesy.

Bane's "My Therapy" and Have Heart's "The Unbreakable" (there's even a Neil Young reference in the lyrics of this one) played a role in that paragraph getting written.

The room was filled closer to capacity when the second band started. They were a pretty big youth crew band from California that had toured for a few years. On another night they probably could have been the headlining band, but it was one of Philadelphia’s very own who’d close out the night later on.

It was a conscious decision to not ever name any bands that Betty listens to, including the ones that play the show. I knew that I wanted to include a youth crew band in the lineup because it's my story, I can do whatever I want, right? The one I have in mind is Fury from Orange County. It's really easy to get jaded on modern hardcore. But Fury gives me hope.

But actually being there to experience it was still different than any video on YouTube. The energy created by the intermix of the band and the crowd was on a different plane of intensity than could be delivered in the high quality of 1080p or even 4K. To be there in person, to feel the beat of the drums in their chests, to stand on the outer edge of the circle pit, and to hear the passion with which lyrics were yelled out with closed (but not clenched) fists and fingers points, it was a warm blood rush. It put the fire in Betty’s eyes again.

I think that video work at shows is getting better. There are videos out there of live sets where I do get chills. But it still isn't the same as being there, in person. The energy can't be matched. I chose to reference Defeater here because "Warm Blood Rush" feels intense from beginning to end.

When the band finished and the house lights came back on, Betty told Jughead that she’d spotted someone eating deep fried zucchini and wanted to investigate. Since the venue was a church basement, there was a kitchen for light concessions. He leaned against the wall and pulled his phone from his pocket as she walked away. There were several people leaning against the wood-paneled walls. He opened the Yelp app and was met with hundreds of results of his earlier query: cheesesteaks. Only he would look up food just as his girlfriend had gone off in pursuit.

One of the articles I read about The Church mentions the serving of vegan chili and one of those probably-inappropriate-to-be-wearing-at-a-church band church that the narrative alludes to. I've never been to this venue or even Philadelphia. But if chili's been served there, I feel like there would be a kitchen somewhere, right, because it's a church basement? And I felt like by the time Bughead makes it to this show, set in the future, there would definitely be deep fried zucchini instead of chili.

“Hey man,” a voice to Jughead’s left interrupted his review reading. “You should check out Jim’s.”

When Jughead glanced up, there was a kid beside him, on his own phone, casually checking NHL box scores. Jughead’s natural reaction was to wonder why the guy was being nosy, glancing at someone else’s business, making comment about it. He was used to the prying eyes in Riverdale; the ones always telling him he didn’t blend in, the ones who dismissed him, the ones that had made him seek solace on the south side. But he remembered where he was, he remembered that this was supposed to be a scene set apart because of open minds and hearts, so he responded, “Is it near here?”

The guy nodded and quickly explained it was just a few miles away on South Street and it would be open late after the show. The kid—Scott—introduced himself and they talked briefly about the band on Scott’s shirt. When Jughead brought out his sarcasm as the conversation continued into a new topic, Scott didn’t seem to mind, and threw it right back at him with his own. It wasn’t with malice or ill intent that either of them did it. Actually, Jughead noted, it was kind of friendly. It reminded him how far from Riverdale he was.

The words open minds and open hearts, the things that set us apart from "Can We Start Again" meant so, so much to me as a teenager. They still do. I think they always will.

So...here's how deep my crazy goes. I looked at a bunch of lists that rank the best cheesesteak places in Philly. And then I checked what time they were all open until on Saturdays. And then I checked how far they all were from the venue. I settled on Jim's, which according to Google Maps is two miles from where they would be. It's open until 3 AM and is on South Street.

I also wanted to include this interaction between Jughead and this stranger to show how different it is from home for him. In Riverdale he's this outcast sarcastic kid who has two friends. But maybe out in the real world it's not like Riverdale. Maybe a taste of the real world would do Jughead some good.

No sooner than the word ‘fun’ was uttered did the drummer begin to build a tempo with his sticks, all kick drum and snare. The low, heavy bass tones were next, producing a hollow rhythm that matched the drumming. The guitarist intentionally made a feedback loop between his guitar and amp as he strummed dissonant chords, creating a sound that was tense, cutting through the air of the room. As the band played together, Jughead recognized when the drawn out instrumental part flowed into the intro to one of their songs.

Like I said earlier, not including any band names was a conscious decision that I made. The same goes for not including any lyrics within the story. That could have been a good way to show what the content of the music is, the meaning behind it, what makes it so special, etc. But that's not how I wanted to do it. So here's the thing. When I was younger, the stories I wrote included lyrics very often. It always felt like I needed them to be there, because they encaptured the feeling of what I was writing. And it was always something I wanted to get away from. I wanted to get to a point where the content was all my own. I wanted to get away from using lyrics as a crutch that was so fully integrated into the stories.

A few years ago when I got back to writing stories, I was finally able to do it. I wrote a story where the main character is in a band (not a hardcore band, haha, an indie rock band), in the studio recording an album. Of course I made references to music within the narrative and dialogue, but there was never a point where I went to typing out lines of entire songs within the story to help build the story. I relied on descriptions and feelings evoked by the character and by the song(s) rather than just plainly using the songs. That wasn't an easy place to get to for me. It felt like something I had to earn, to get my writing to that place.

This absolutely is not a knock on anyone who uses chunks of lyrics in their stories. I still read those stories. And I'll still love them. Just, for me, I don't want to do that anymore. I guess what I'm saying is that I don't want to go back to before. A big part of what I even like about writing is the challenge. So I want to keep challenging myself to be better than I was years ago.

That being said, it took me a while to figure out who this band they were seeing is, and what the intro song is. When I was writing I always imagined "Some Came Running" because it's one of my favorite songs to see live and I know that I have been to shows where it has been the opening song, and to stick with the theme of me listening to so much Bane while I was writing. But then they couldn't be going to see Bane because they're not a band anymore. So then I thought "The Red, White, & Blues" because I still love it (also there's a lot of plaid flannel and shaggy hair going on in this video, which makes me think of Jughead, which I think means that the hardcore scene circa 2010 was Jughead-esque, haha) but realistically I don't think that's been an opening song for a while now. Then it dawned on me that what I needed to think about was what Philly band could play the show and what song could they play first?

The intro that's described in the paragraph is "We Will Not" by Paint it Black. And that would be the band that they go to see. It made a lot of sense. They're from Philly. They might even be the biggest hardcore band out of Philly in the last decade. Their sound is on the melodic side of hardcore. Their singer/vocalist does address the crowd and say meaningful things in between songs. And oh look, they used The Church's carpet for a show flier a few months ago. If the premise of this story was true, if hardcore was the thing that Betty needed, I have no doubt that for her first show she would choose something like this, that's melodic, that's full of venom but also thought provoking and socially conscious.

Once I had this sorted out I started to think about when the last time I saw Paint it Back was. And it was so long ago that I'm pretty sure it was when they played with the band Ceremony around the time they released Rohnert Park, when they were still kind of a hardcore band. As such, I ended up listening to "Sick" over and over again (I think I could listen to that drum beat for hours) and I think that may have leaked into the paragraph, too. I could imagine the "Sick" intro leading into "We Will Not" if it was the same band.

Also, last thing, the vocalist/singer for Paint it Black, Dan Yemin, was the guitarist in Lifetime, who I referenced as one of those post-hardcore bands on Betty's New Jersey playlist. Without even realizing what I was doing...everything is connected. It all comes back around full circle. It's also interesting (maybe just to me) to note that Yemin is actually a practicing clinical psychologist who works primarily with teenagers and young adults. Given what we know about Betty's mental health issues, I think it just makes PIB all the more the right choice.

He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the sounds that filled the room and ricocheted in his chest. He wondered if the way it made him feel was something he’d never be able to put into words and describe perfectly. When he’d listened to it before, with headphones or through speakers hooked up to his old record player, he’d noted the intensity and urgency of it all. That was tenfold when it was living and breathing, in the flesh, staring him in the face. It gave him chills and hair-raising goosebumps.

This is really just a shout out to Modern Life is War's "Hair Raising Accounts of Restless Ghosts", which is urgent, desperate, melodic, mid-tempo hardcore at its finest. It's a reminder that the intensity isn't just about how loud and fast a band can play. When that shines through and can bring those hynotizing chills even in places that have stupid barricades, it's a beautiful thing.

He was a witness to community that night, more than he’d seen anywhere else. That was a bit baffling considering he was from a small town and had a foot in with a biker gang, two things which were meant to have inherent community qualities. It was different the way these kids treated each other, with a natural respect and even love. To someone who didn’t know, it probably looked violent and turbulent, the same that he’d thought at first listen. But it was actually vehement passion with a purpose. The actions of the room flirted on the edge of violence and danger but always remained at controlled chaos. It was about coming together and letting what darkness they held in their hearts ring out in that safe space rather than becoming destructive in their day-to-day lives.

To Jughead, it was like Betty, like her color for the night. It was a representation of her, part of who she was and wanted to be. It was her big dreams. It was how she saw the world, still with optimism, how she was determined to make a difference with her lionheart.

Speaking of my cheesiness and liking cheesy hardcore, I named the story after the song "Lionheart" by Have Heart. If it's cheesy and it's wrong to love it, I don't ever want to be right. When I was writing and looking for videos of live sets that could give me chills and goosebumps through YouTube quality video, this consistently came up. I watched several different videos of it live and each time it would move me. I even found a version from a show that I was at several years ago and it made me feel lucky all over again that I got to have that experience.

Beyond that, I wanted to choose a song that represents Betty, or at least the Betty that I introduced in the first chapter. I think Betty does have a heart of a lion. And I think she does have a fire in her heart. At Have Heart's last show, Pat, the singer starts off the song by dedicating it "to the prettiest girl in the room" before he goes on to explain what words by singers like Aaron Bedard (the vocalist for Bane, a band that I have severely over-referenced in these notes) mean to him - which totally resonates with me. And I thought, hey, Betty Cooper is probably the prettiest girl in a lot of rooms, right? The song closes with the words I'm doing my best and I'm doing my part, don't criticize me, man, when there's no fire in your heart. It's very Betty. So I had to name the story after this song.

Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail. It was set in the same position as one of her signature ponytails and just as tight, but nowhere near as neat as a signature. It looked like she’d used her fingers to comb her hair into place and tied it back hastily when the heat inside the venue had risen. Stray baby hairs framed her face like a halo. She was a little disheveled—imperfect hair, sweaty temple, flaked mascara fallen to the high points of her cheeks. But her cat eyeliner could still cut a bitch. The pout of her lips was still adorned perfectly in that temptress shade of danger and innocence.

She was good girl Betty and pure Betty and real-life Betty Cooper all at once. Jughead was sure that he loved every version of her. Every marvel. Every color.

I thought it was fitting that through the course of the show, when it came time for Betty to put her hair up, it wouldn't be a messy bun or a quick low ponytail. I thought it should be a classic Betty ponytail as best as she could manage. It seemed to be symbolic for her bringing different parts of herself together in that space, in that moment.

Her indignant outburst earned her a chuckle from Jughead. He’d been too busy letting her take charge, immersing herself in the moment while she’d been discussing ‘zines and an upcoming hardcore music festival, to think about sharing the food that she’d bought. He’d even downed all of the water without a second thought. He looked her in the eye as they continued their walk. “I swear I’m not mad, Betty. Not even a little bit. I’m just thinking. Trying to commit everything to memory. You were amazing.”

The mention of the hardcore music festival is actually referring to This is Hardcore, an annual festival that takes place in Philly every summer. I wanted to work it in to the chapter somehow since it hits two checkmarks of what this chapter is with the city and the music.

And finally, so that I end this on a much poppier note, Jughead's last bit of dialogue is a reference I made to Motion City Soundtrack's Commit This to Memory, an album I listened to a lot in the twilight of finishing this, because in my heart of hearts I'm always just a 15-year-old pop punk kid.

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