Tumgik
#I drew the same thing on their actual 22nd birthday
cbmagus49 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Since the twins are turning 23 tomorrow I imagine Mabel would insist on doing basically the same thing I did on my last day of being 22 (blasting the Taylor Swift song to an obnoxious degree for as long as it’s technically accurate) only with the added bonuses of A) having a twin to rope into joining her (you know he can’t resist belting out corny girly songs) and B) being even slightly extroverted so they’re having a PARTY!! :D
740 notes · View notes
veliseraptor · 3 years
Text
closed fist, open hand
it’s still the 22nd where I am and happy birthday to my best boy xue yang, here is a fic from the if living can be this verse, songxue, for someone (forgetting who?? might’ve been @spockandawe​) featuring the ongoing journey of xue yang being very clueless about some things, sometimes.
it’s porn but it’s actually nice porn, so 👍
this will be on ao3 at some point in the relatively near future.
--
Song Lan was being very, very frustrating. Which, okay, not that surprising, but still annoying as fuck.
Xiao Xingchen and a-Qing were off doing something and going to be gone the whole fucking day, which meant Xue Yang was alone with Song Lan, and he was restless and itchy and it was a perfect opportunity to get Song Lan to rough him up. Really rough him up, in a fingers around his throat, bruises everywhere, feeling it tomorrow kind of way.
So he’d been doing his best all morning to get him nice and pissed off and all that he’d gotten was a long-suffering look and a sigh, or a dry is that necessary, or, once, eyes cast toward the ceiling like he was seeking help from the heavens.
It was starting to drive Xue Yang a little crazy.
Stewing, glaring at Song Lan where he was meditating in apparent peace, Xue Yang gave up. He tossed the pot he was washing as loudly as possible into the bucket of washwater and sauntered over, straddled him on his knees, put his hands on his shoulders, and said, dropping his voice a little and letting it slide, “fuck me up, gege.”
Song Lan took a quick, sharp breath and opened his eyes. Xue Yang grinned at him with all his teeth.
“Is that what you’ve been hinting at?” he asked after a pause. Xue Yang’s grin widened.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I just like annoying the shit out of you, Zichen. Maybe a little of both. Going to do something about it?”
Song Lan’s eyes narrowed. Xue Yang cocked his head to the side.
“Hm,” Song Lan said, and then, “I could. But not here.”
Xue Yang straightened up. “Yeah?” he said eagerly. “That a promise?”
“Try me,” Song Lan said, his voice steady and even and the expression on his face entirely unreadable. Xue Yang’s heartbeat kicked up a notch and he leaned forward.
“I thought I already was,” he said, plastering a grin on again. Song Lan didn’t so much as blink.
“Not here,” he said again. “I’d be uncomfortable.”
A thrill went up Xue Yang’s spine. His eyes widened in delight and he planted his hands on Song Lan’s chest to push himself back, dismounting and standing up. Song Lan did the same, in stages, and then just stood there looking at him. The annoyance crept back in.
“Well?” he said. “Are you coming or–”
The motherfucker could move fast when he wanted to. And he was stupidly strong, and Xue Yang hadn’t been watching for it, and now he was over Song Lan’s shoulder like a sack of rice. He thrashed, or tried, and then Song Lan said, “if you kick me I’ll drop you and we’re done,” so he did, reluctantly, stop. There was nothing in biting range, either. At least it wasn’t that far.
“Where’re you gonna do it, huh,” he said. “Gonna shove my face into the wall and fuck me from behind, do you want me on my knees so you can fuck my face, are you gonna make it hurt, make me suffer–”
Song Lan’s stride hitched slightly, but only for a moment, and Xue Yang laughed.
“Oh,” he said. “You like that, huh? Too bad you don’t have a whip or you could mark up my back so bad it’d hurt to lie down for a week. Bet you could come up with something though if you wanted. Or there’s always–”
The air went out of his lungs with an oof when Song Lan half-dropped, half-tossed him onto the bed. Xue Yang looked up at him, pushing himself up on his elbows and grinning, his heart thudding hard at the base of his throat.
“You talk too much,” Song Lan said. Xue Yang laughed.
“You like it,” he said. “You’ve always liked it. Okay, maybe not as much as Xingchen but still.” He pushed himself further up to sitting. “Come on, Zichen,” he said. “You’re not done already, are you? I thought you were going to put me in my place.”
Song Lan’s eyes narrowed again, darkened slightly, and Xue Yang grinned again, then licked his lips with exaggerated relish.
Song Lan removed his belt. Xue Yang’s eyes snapped to it, his body heating up with eager anticipation. “Give me your hands,” Song Lan said, and Xue Yang paused but only for a moment before he held them out, wiggling his fingers.
“This feels familiar,” Xue Yang said brightly when Song Lan started binding his wrists together. Song Lan’s movements stuttered again, slightly, and he gave Xue Yang a hard look that made him falter, just a little.
“I’m just making sure you keep your hands to yourself,” Song Lan said after a moment. “And I don’t trust your self restraint.”
“That hurts, gege,” Xue Yang said. It felt a little strange, having his hands restrained like this. Not something he usually liked. Hadn’t gone well last time he’d tried it. But the little frisson up his spine wasn’t completely bad and he was here to get fucked up anyway so it didn’t matter that much. The belt didn’t even chafe like ropes would, and it wasn’t so tight he couldn’t wriggle out if he really tried.
“I’m sure it does,” Song Lan said, then hooked his fingers into the bindings and pushed Xue Yang down to his back, hard enough to push the air out of his lungs in a quiet oof. He blinked up at Song Lan as he climbed onto the bed over him, then laughed, stretching his torso, pushing up against Song Lan’s weight holding him down so he could feel the resistance of him holding him down. It felt good, the little mingled thrill of unease and hunger. Song Lan gave him a slow, considering look like he was trying to decide where to start taking him apart.
“What’re you waiting for?” Xue Yang asked. “I’m gonna start getting bored here. Lost your nerve, Song-daozhang?”
“No,” Song Lan said. Then, “remember, hands to yourself or I’ll just leave you here like this.”
Xue Yang let out an exaggerated gasp. “Song-daozhang! You wouldn’t,” he said.
“You’d deserve it,” Song Lan said ruthlessly, but he let go and Xue Yang kept his hands where they were. He was rewarded with one of Song Lan’s hands around his neck, palm pressed lightly against the ridge of his throat. His eyes half closed with a pleased sound but instead of pushing down Song Lan just drew his thumb lightly down the side of Xue Yang’s neck. And then again, and again, and when he tried to push up to chase more pressure Song Lan pulled away altogether. Xue Yang frowned at him.
“Are you going easy on me?” he said incredulously. “Come on, Song-daozhang, you know I can take it.”
“I know,” Song Lan said, and pulled his hand away. Xue Yang started to jerk up only for Song Lan to plant a hand in the center of his chest and push him firmly back down.
“Oh,” he said. “Okay, so it’s just that you can’t do it, I get it. Poor Zichen’s lost his nerve–”
“Hm,” Song Lan said, and then gave Xue Yang a very slight smile that cut off Xue Yang’s voice and sent a delightfully ominous shiver down his spine. His fingers curled but he set his jaw and gave Song Lan a bright and vicious grin.
“Prove me wrong,” he said. “Do your worst.”
Song Lan pulled back only far enough to take off Xue Yang’s belt and pull his robes open so he was just wearing pants and shirt even if Song Lan still had all his clothes. “You leaving those on?” Xue Yang asked, jerking his chin in his direction. “Gonna get them dirty? If you make me bleed on your robes I’m not washing them.”
“You’re not going to bleed,” Song Lan said calmly. Xue Yang laughed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Okay.” And because Song Lan wasn’t moving fast enough, he said, “hey, Zichen, did you ever think about doing this shit to Xiao Xingchen? Did you ever want to hurt him, put those nice strong fingers of yours around his neck and squeeze until he choked–”
Song Lan’s expression tightened, a flash of anger and something else too lighting up his eyes and Xue Yang took a quick breath, bracing himself, but then it faded away and he just cupped Xue Yang’s jaw with a gentleness that sent a shiver down his spine, his thumb brushing across Xue Yang’s lower lip. He tried to snap at his fingers, but that just meant Song Lan pulled his hand away completely which wasn’t what he wanted.
“If you want something you can just ask,” Song Lan told him. Xue Yang bared his teeth.
“Really?” he said. “You need me to give you all your ideas? Weak. You did just fine when you were splitting me open on my own fucking sword–”
Song Lan’s eyes went dark, and Xue Yang grinned at him. Then Song Lan moved, manhandling Xue Yang more onto the bed. He fought it more reflexively than anything, but also so he could feel the satisfying weight of Song Lan’s holding him in place, pinning him down. His cock was getting interested again, and finally Song Lan was close enough that he could arch his hips and rub against him. Song Lan ran his fingers into his hair but didn’t pull. He rocked down against Xue Yang and Xue Yang made a loud, pleased noise.
“That’s more like it,” he said.
“Mmm,” Song Lan said, and then murmured, “you’re doing very well,” and a funny shock shot through Xue Yang, jarring him sideways. Sweet enough to hurt, almost, and it should’ve sounded condescending, like he was mocking Xue Yang only it didn’t, not really. He opened up the last layer of clothes across Xue Yang’s chest so when he put one hand over Xue Yang’s hammering heart it was pressed against skin.
Xue Yang faked a yawn. His skin was prickling some kind of a warning. “You’re being boring,” he said. “You ever wonder if you could make me scream?”
“You’re loud enough as it is,” Song Lan said. His palms felt warm; he touched the scar under his collarbone like he hadn’t noticed it before. Xue Yang shivered, his nerves brightening.
“You should’ve seen it when it was fresh,” Xue Yang said. “Missed out, Song-daozhang.” Song Lan’s touch paused and he gave Xue Yang a quick look, not quite a frown. “There’s one on the back, too,” Xue Yang said. “Matches.”
Song Lan’s fingers lingered on the scar a moment longer, and Xue Yang flashed his teeth in a smile that felt a little uneasy, squirming restlessly. “If you want to break it open again you’re going to need more than your bare hands,” he said. “Though I’d kind of like to see you try.”
Song Lan shot him another one of those strange not-quite frowns and then shook himself.
“Why would I want to do that?” he said, apparently in genuine question, and Xue Yang had a moment of confusion before Song Lan’s hips pressed down against his, his robes enough out of the way that Xue Yang could feel his cock against his leg. He bucked like he would somehow be able to feel more of it that way.
“Are you gonna fuck me with that thing?” he asked. “Get it wet in my mouth and–” He felt the eager twitch of Song Lan’s cock and crowed gleefully. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, sounds good, right, you like it when I’m choking on your cock wedged in my throat–”
Song Lan put a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet,” he said, and Xue Yang was surprised enough that his voice died, and Song Lan smiled slightly. “Good,” he said, and Xue Yang had that feeling again like a kick in the chest. Xiao Xingchen could do that to him, did do that to him, but not Song Lan. He pulled his hand off Xue Yang’s mouth and said, “don’t rush me. I’m taking my time.”
A warning prickled at the back of Xue Yang’s brain, but it was a little fuzzy and he’d rather think about the slow rub of Song Lan’s body against his. Slow and sweet and before long he was squirming and gasping. Which Song Lan seemed to think was enough, that and his hands just petting Xue Yang’s face, his chest, his side. And every time Xue Yang tried to open his mouth Song Lan just covered it.
His body was starting to feel overworked, a little overloaded, and thoroughly confused. The one thing he was absolutely sure of was that he wanted more. He twisted, trying to wriggle his hips into a better position and gasping when Song Lan pressed down, the pressure exquisite even if on its own it wasn’t enough.
He bit Song Lan’s shoulder, hard. He heard Song Lan’s sharp inhale, the tensing of his body, only then he just said, “let go.”
Xue Yang bit down harder for a moment longer and then released him, giving Song Lan a bright, sharp grin that faltered when he saw the expression on Song Lan’s face. He didn’t look angry. Determined, and maybe a little amused, gaze intent.
“That’s it,” Song Lan said soothingly, the hand that wasn’t braced on the bed fanning out over his ribs. “That’s good.” Xue Yang quivered, the last of his smile dropping. An almost violent spasm rippling through his whole body, a small sound slipping out of his mouth before he could catch it. His hips bucked upwards and Song Lan’s pushed him back down, gentle but inexorable.
His head was spinning a little. “What,” he said, and then gathered himself and said, “aw, Zichen, you’re so sweet,” and reared up to bite him again, harder. Song Lan grunted and his fingers pressed into flesh - yes, better, Xue Yang thought a little wildly - but a moment later his touch softened again, eased.
Xue Yang let go of Song Lan’s shoulder, breathing hard, and stared up at Song Lan feeling profoundly off balance.
Song Lan’s hand moved up to brush his thumb over one of Xue Yang’s cheekbones, the faint scar left from Jin Guangyao’s attempt to have him killed. He felt his eyes go wide, his head tipping toward that touch.
“There,” Song Lan said. He sounded pleased. Xue Yang had no idea why. His heart was thudding very hard.
He squirmed. “Come on,” he said. “What’re you waiting for–”
“Nothing,” Song Lan said, sounding far too calm. “I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing.”
Xue Yang stared at him, confused, only then Song Lan dropped his hand from his face and palmed his cock gently through his underclothes and he just exhaled in a shuddery sigh. Arching up toward that pressure only to drop back down, panting.
“Don’t - fuck around,” he said, his voice stupidly thin. “You think you’re gonna make me beg for it, Zichen? Sorry, it’s gonna take more than that, I can barely–”
“You don’t have to beg,” Song Lan said smoothly. “I’m going to give it to you anyway.” He moved his hand in a slow circle, massaging Xue Yang’s cock and he let out an embarrassing sort of hiccup, body jumping up toward his hand which didn’t gain him any more force.
“You,” he said, short on breath. “You, you’re–”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Song Lan said. He sounded so calm, so steady. Like he wasn’t driving Xue Yang insane.
Xue Yang heaved an inhale that rushed out of his lungs a moment later. His eyes, for some reason, prickled, his hands twisting, tugging against Song Lan’s belt wound around his wrists. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He desperately wanted more.
“Motherfucker,” he said. “Fucking - is this all, is this the best you can do, I thought you said you were going to fuck me, fuck me up not–”
“You seem pretty undone to me,” Song Lan said, his voice almost smug. Xue Yang squirmed harder.
“Fuck you,” he said urgently. “Do you need me to, to - unh,” he broke off, when Song Lan put just a little more pressure on his increasingly needy cock.
“I know,” he said, almost soothingly. “But I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Why not,” Xue Yang said, somewhere between plea and hiss. He wanted it to be the latter but it sort of came out the former anyway.
“Why should I?” Song Lan asked, like that wasn’t the stupidest question in the world, or at least that Xue Yang had heard today. He stopped moving and just stared blankly at Song Lan, who stared steadily back at him.He looked determined, unsmiling as usual, but something weird and - and soft in his eyes. Xue Yang’s heartbeat kicked up and he wanted to dig his teeth into that exposed underbelly and at the same time his instincts were screaming danger even though he didn’t have any clue why.
“Cause that’s just - how it goes.” His fingers curled into his palms. “You do want to, don’t be - Xiao Xingchen’s not here and I’m not gonna tell him or anything if you’re worried about him getting pissed at you or whatever–”
“I’m not worried about that,” Song Lan cut in. Xue Yang swallowed hard.
“Then the fuck game are you playing,” he said, his voice rough and strange, sort of uneven.
“For an unfortunately clever man you can be very stupid about some things,” Song Lan said, and slid one hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. Light and quick and not super interesting or anything but Song Lan hadn’t done that before. Oh, sure, Xue Yang had kissed him, usually to fuck with him a little but it didn’t go the other way around and not like that, for sure, not like he was - was fucking Xiao Xingchen or something–
His chest heaved with the loud, gasping breaths he could hear himself taking. His head was spinning and he felt a little like Song Lan had kicked his legs out from under him and he was having a hard time getting back up.
“What d’you want,” Xue Yang said desperately, words slurring together. Song Lan let out a little huff that wasn’t quite a laugh.
“Like I said,” he said. “You’re unfortunately clever. I expect you’ll figure it out. Eventually.”
Xue Yang started to snarl but it broke off into a moan when Song Lan shoved his thigh between Xue Yang’s legs. He ground desperately against it, unable to help himself. Arched his hips up chasing more only for Song Lan to pull away again.
“Fuck,” he said, almost despairing. “Fuck, are you gonna fuck me or not–”
“I know, I know,” Song Lan said, almost soothingly, and Xue Yang was going to kill him and at the same time sort of wanted to just let go and ride it, see where the fuck Song Lan was taking him. Finally, though, finally Song Lan moved to pull off Xue Yang’s pants. Xue Yang panted as fabric dragged over his sensitive cock, then inhaled sharply when Song Lan brushed his fingers against Xue Yang’s leg, making him jump. He wavered back and forth between a vague feeling of humiliation and exposure and sheer hunger.
Song Lan paused, sat back, and looked at him. Xue Yang groaned. “Don’t just–”
“You are,” Song Lan said, tone sort of considering, “very handsome.”
Xue Yang blinked, startled momentarily out of his haze of lust. That was clever and handsome both in a very short time and he didn’t quite know what to make of it other than that it felt good in a way he very much associated with Xiao Xingchen, warm and sweet. “Huh,” he said. Song Lan’s expression twitched a little and he leaned forward, kissing him again, a little more this time. Still light and almost shy but it had Xue Yang reeling anyway, not that he hadn’t been already.
Any chance he might’ve had at collecting his thoughts vanished when Song Lan took his cock in hand. Loose, barely touching him at all but Xue Yang still groaned and thrust into his grip. “Tighter,” he said, but Song Lan didn’t seem to hear him, or just ignored him, the fingers of his left hand slotting into the spaces between Xue Yang’s ribs.
“Relax,” Song Lan said, and Xue Yang’s breathing hitched in a mixture of terror and incredulity. “Just let me…”
His thumb rubbed against the underside of the head of Xue Yang’s cock and he let out a thoroughly pathetic whine. It felt like he was slipping again and he didn’t know what he was going to hit when he fell.
“Fuck you,” he said, though it came out thin and small. Xue Yang tried to rally, pull himself back together. “Is this - come on, I could go to sleep right now, are you gonna do something interesting or what?” his voice was goading, mean, or at least it was trying to be, but Song Lan didn’t seem impressed.
“Hm,” he said, and let go of Xue Yang’s cock again, grabbing his wrists instead and pressing them down. “You don’t seem that bored,” he said. He sounded sort of amused again and Xue Yang’s mouth opened and closed without any words like a stupid dying fish. He felt dazed. Stunned. Like Song Lan had banged his head against the floor a few times, or something.
“Hit me,” Xue Yang said.
“No,” Song Lan said.
“Please,” Xue Yang said, his voice cracking, and for the first time Song Lan’s expression fractured a little, betraying uncertainty, and Xue Yang would’ve dug his fingernails into it if he could’ve but he was too - everything was too–
“You don’t ask Xingchen,” Song Lan said, which didn’t make any sense at all. Xue Yang just stared at him, wild-eyed, because what did Xiao Xingchen have to do with this anyway, Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t do it but Song Lan would because Song Lan wanted to hurt him, always had, that was just, that was how–
He heard the crack before he registered the sting of it, his head snapping to the side. Fireworks went off behind his eyes and his mind went blank. Empty and quiet.
Fingers touched his jaw and pulled his eyes back to Song Lan’s face, who was looking at him with a strange expression. “That’s better,” he said, and it was half reassurance and half question.
“Yeah,” Xue Yang said blurrily. His face was still hot. His cock throbbed. He flexed his fingers to feel the bindings dig into his wrists which felt like it was one of the only things keeping him from just drifting off.
“I’m not your enemy,” Song Lan said. It sounded like he thought it was important, so Xue Yang nodded even if he didn’t feel like he really got why.
“Okay,” he said. And then, “do it again,” because the sting was starting to fade and he wanted it back.
“No,” Song Lan said, after a brief hesitation, and Xue Yang felt a brief flare of disappointment before it died away. He sighed, though, a little sadly. It felt like he might’ve come if Song Lan’d done it. Just from that. Probably not but it sort of felt like maybe.
“Let me...let me take care of you,” Song Lan said, and the words felt a little like small pieces of glass, cutting little stinging wounds. His head was all messed up. Coming only sort of seemed to matter.
“Fuck me,” he said, voice wobbly. “Do it dry, I don’t care–”
“No,” Song Lan said again, but then he had Xue Yang’s cock in his hand and his palm felt slick and warm even when he was as hot as he was. His hips rabbited up, trying to fuck himself with Song Lan’s hand, but his muscles all felt half-liquid, scrambled like his head.
It was okay. Song Lan did the work for him, the way he liked it, and by the time he spilled in pulses over his stomach and Song Lan’s hand he could’ve howled if his throat hadn’t locked up.
He felt limp, wrung out. Xue Yang blinked slowly, hazily.
“Xue Yang,” said Song Lan’s voice, quietly.
“Uh huh,” he managed to say in acknowledgment, though his brain was still mostly off somewhere else.
“What am I to you?”
Xue Yang tried to think about that but it was really very hard to think and he didn’t know a good answer. It felt like there was an answer he was supposed to have but he didn’t.
“Tired,” he said instead.
Song Lan sighed. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose you are.” He sounded sort of disappointed, which made Xue Yang frown a little. He tried to focus.
“You’re...Song Lan,” he said.
“Yes, Xue Yang,” Song Lan said after a pause. “That’s true.”
“You’re Xingchen’s,” Xue Yang tried again.
“I’m not,” Song Lan started to say, and then paused and amended, “I suppose you could put it that way.”
“And mine, sort of,” Xue Yang ventured, because he was feeling loose and sort of daring and he wanted to see what would happen. “Even if we’re. You know. Not friends, or whatever.”
He didn’t know what to make of the long quiet that followed. So long that he pried his eyes open to see if Song Lan was even still there. He was. He didn’t say anything, though, just got up and started untying Xue Yang. There was a little bit of a bruise-ache in his wrists but it felt good, unlike the weird shivery prickling crawling over his skin as things started to come back together.
“Don’t leave,” he objected, just in case Song Lan was thinking about it.
“All right,” Song Lan said, after looking at him for a while. “I won’t.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and Xue Yang squirmed until he could drop his head in his lap.
“D’you wanna fuck my face,” he said.
“No,” Song Lan said, and then added, “thank you,” which made Xue Yang giggle a little. He was giving Xue Yang a weird look again, but he did that a lot. Xue Yang’d gotten used to it.
“Okay,” he said, and closed his eyes without thinking about how safe he was, or wasn’t. He was asleep within heartbeats.
**
Xue Yang was fast asleep and snoring a little when Xingchen and a-Qing returned. Song Lan hadn’t moved. It wasn’t like he had that much to do, and Xue Yang’s head on his leg wasn’t uncomfortable. Xue Yang, for his part, looked very comfortable.
“I’m here, Xingchen,” he said quietly. He heard a-Qing mutter something, but Xingchen came in, looking a little quizzical. Song Lan sighed and said, “Xue Yang is sleeping. On me.”
Xingchen smiled with radiant fondness that made Song Lan’s chest hurt.
“Sleeping on you,” he said. “Well.”
“He tells me,” Song Lan said, with a little bit of despair, “that we’re ‘not friends, or whatever.’” He’d also said Song Lan was his, which he didn’t know how to take.
Xingchen’s expression flickered and fell, though he recovered quickly.
“It’s not true,” he said. Song Lan let his silence speak for him, and Xingchen said, “he fell asleep on you. And still is, now. Whether he knows it or not, that is a certain amount of trust.”
Maybe, Song Lan thought, but I would like him to know it.
“He’ll get there, Zichen,” Xingchen said soothingly.
Maybe, Song Lan thought again. But he was also thinking about the flushed red of Xue Yang’s cheek after he’d hit him, and the exhilaration of doing it, the sharp stabbing hunger, and he had to wonder if, deep down, Xue Yang was right about him after all.
124 notes · View notes
thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years
Text
Let’s talk: the Vmin “no on screen interaction = no bond” Paradox
by Admin 1 & 2
One of the reasons that are usually stated for why people are so insistent on their claims that Jimin and Tae supposedly aren’t close anymore, that their friendship is nothing but PR for Friends, and that the whole “soulmate agenda” is fake as well, boils down to the statement of “we rarely or never see them interact on screen, no touching, no talking, nothing”. We find this both misleading, since it isn’t true, but also disrespectful, since it means that the only way in which some are able to accept closeness between the members as real and valid is if they see it, nothing else. So, just because you don’t see it through grand physical touches, hugs and whatnot, does that mean if they speak about each other, for example, that doesn’t count? 
You could argue that the power of pictures is greater than that of words, but to that I would like to ask: do they owe us visual proof of their closeness when we already have so much that shows how truly close Jimin and Tae are, how much they care about each other and how much work across years they’ve willingly and eagerly put into their bond for it to grow as deep and beautiful as it is?
As a way to showcase how misleading the screen time = friendship/closeness argument is, especially in connection to Jimin and Tae, I’d like for us to look at two different instances: Black Swan MV (the MV Sketch as well as the “opera” b*omb and the basket ball b*omb) and the Jingle Ball 2019 EPISODE.
Let’s start with the videos surrounding Black Swan below the cut:
Around that time I saw a lot, and I mean a lot, of chatter (mostly negative) about vmin since a very loud portion of the fandom were very up in arms after we got Friends. Not only did it solidify their preconceived notion that they are just friends, because the song is titled like that and none of them really cared enough to check the lyrics, but also because it opened up a whole new discussion about “but like, are they really friends?” To which, of course, their answer was mostly “no”. It’s just PR, they actually don’t really like each other, they barely interact, we see nothing of them, both interact way more with the other members, you know the drill. So when the MV Sketch for Black Swan came out it was, once again, like more “am/munition” for their arguments.
The thing we find laughable though is this expectation of “ship moments” in a video that’s literally about the filming of their music video, most of the scenes showing said filming happening though there’s also a few scenes of the members interacting. But, at the core, this isn’t like a bangtan b*mb of them hanging out backstage waiting for something or another where it makes sense that we’d see them interact a lot and be silly, instead it’s a video in which their focus (as well as ours should be) is on filming and giving the best performance they can so the MV turns out amazing, which it did. They are doing their work, not enjoying their free time. When you’re at work, do you really spend the majority of your time playing around with your friends? No, you do your job, the thing you get paid for doing.
The first few times I watched the video, I was so captivated by the theatre and their dancing, their mindset and performance, I didn’t even really notice any of their interactions or pay attention to who interacted with who or who did not. Guess my priorities and expectations are simply a bit different when watching a music video being filmed...
So what was the conclusion people drew? While Jimin and Tae are both close to JK and the other member, they are not close to each other, they don’t even particularly like each other. It was a narrative I saw repeated across various sns and, really, while it made me sad, I also wasn’t surprised. It’s nothing new that people treat vmin in such a manner.
Then, months later we got two Bangtan B*mbs from the same time and surprise, surprise Jimin and Tae did interact, a lot even, in ways that show how attuned with each other they are, how easy it is for them to fall into one of their role-plays or just be silly together, how gentle and thoughtful of the other they are, and how much they enjoy doing something together, regardless of what it is.
Tumblr media
The first, posted October 1st 2020, showed Tae playing basket ball while Jimin and JK sat off to the side and watched him. Like you can see in the above pictures, eventually Jimin joined Tae and they played together for most of the video. Since the sun was shining at them, Tae stood before Jimin and raised his hands so the shadow fell onto Jimin’s eyes and he could see better, later on doing the same for Tae. It’s a small thing and yet it shows they care about each other. At some point Jimin pretended that he’ll be leaving, twice, and yet he stayed and they played some more. Toward the end of the video Namjoon joins them and eventually vmin leave and Namjoon stays behind and plays with Seokjin before the video ends.
Based on all that you’d assume the people who, seven months earlier, claimed vmin are essentially estranged and barely even like each other would reconsider, but of course not. Despite the focus being largely on them across the entire video, many comments by non-vminies (and non-namjinists) I saw on sns were about Tae playing on his own, Jimin and JK sitting off to the side together, and Namjoon playing with Seokjin. 
Tumblr media
The second video was posted October 24th 2020 and began with Jimin pretending he’s an opera singer, which Tae noticed and immediately joined in, since we know this is the sort of thing Tae enjoys doing, even occasionally turning their own songs and lyrics into opera style to make the other members laugh. This sets off this entire sequence of Tae and Jimin singing different things, JK also joining in for a moment, and then vmin ending on that sweet moment of Jimin standing behind Tae with his hands covering Tae’s eyes before concluding that “it’s hard to play with him”. And yet, even if it’s hard, can we talk about these two screenshots of Jimin fondly watching Tae and looking like he can’t wait until his stylist is done so he can go join him? Adorable.
Tumblr media
But again, even here while the focus is on vmin for a large portion of the video, this fact was largely omitted and instead people zeroed in on moments in which Tae was alone, Tae or Jimin interacted with JK, and Tae singing with Namjoon and Seokjin. It seems to me like the council of “how valid is a friendship” decided on their opinion months prior and stuck with it even if it meant, as always, to just ignore vmin interactions in favor of other things while at the same time spreading the “vmin are not friends because they don’t interact” agenda to anyone who’ll listen.
Generally I don’t really care all that much for all the chatter happening among parts of ARMY, but seeing these comments belittling and erasing the bond Jimin and Tae have, regardless if you see it as platonic or potentially romantic, is just really hard to read sometimes. Not even because I’m a vminnie, but simply because they are erasing something that is so important to both Tae and Jimin, this bond they have with each other they themselves spoke so much about, showed so much of, and yet people refuse to accept it, like they have any right to make such judgements about their bond.
The second example I’d like to show is Jingle Ball 2019 in LA and how deceptive, paradoxical and misleading the no screen time = no bond agenda really is.
For context, the Jingle Ball happened some time in December 2019, the same month as when we got the vmin “let’s take a half bath together” while holding hands during Seokjin’s birthday vlive happened, meaning a time when Jimin and Tae were just as close as ever, even occasionally giving us glimpses into their bond, giggling together and being all smiles. Also the same month as the famous holding hands because we think no one sees us anymore moment at the airport.
On July 22nd 2020 we got the EPISODE showing the behind the scenes of the Jingle Ball performance. It’s 11 minutes long and includes the BWL performance with Halsey, but largely shows the members getting ready, practicing their English and being excited to perform. If we focus solely on vmin then sure, I’ll agree that there were no interactions between those two whatsoever, not a usual or out of the ordinary thing, and not something I see any kind of problem in. They don’t owe us interactions in every piece of content. And yet, as always, it just added fuel to everyones favorite agenda that vmin are not close, ignoring all the prior time frame context we established previously. But who cares, they didn’t interact in this 11 minute video therefore they definitely didn’t interact at all and now hate each other.
Jokes on those people because of course that isn’t true.
Tumblr media
Excuse the rather mediocre quality of those pictures, I tried my best with the screenshots taken from a video taken by a fan (one of many) who got to see BTS behind the scenes before going on stage from the stands further up. There’s this video on twt that shows just vmin and then I found a longer version in this person’s vlog (around the 7:25 min mark and onward). You can check both and confirm that it really is vmin in those screenshots. Also, as memory refresher, Jimin was the only one with a black collar and shirt along with blond hair. Namjoon stands further away and can be seen in the three lower pictures.
Tumblr media
So, what does this tell us? Easy--just because it wasn’t shown in a condensed and edited video it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Just because Jimin and Tae don’t show us things on screen, or the editors don’t use scenes where it can be seen, it doesn’t mean that it’s an accurate representation of their actual, real life bond. They weren’t in the EPISODE but hugged and walked together off camera.
Notice how this agenda merely applies to vmin, how their bond, their soulmate status and closeness is the only one that gets questioned at every possible moment. When Seokjin said that Yoongi feels like his soulmate nowadays in an episode of In The SOOP no one questioned his words and accepted them as true, because he said so himself and we should believe their sincerity when they say these things. And yet when it comes to vmin, the rules are entirely different.
This was a post brought to you by Admin 2 coming across yet another thread on twt filled with ARMY claiming outlandish things about vmin and their bond and getting annoyed.
62 notes · View notes
shatteredrabbit · 3 years
Text
Some backstory stuff for Rabbit from the @ fazbear-ent-official rp!
Side note: The whole first person thing is mainly for the FazEnt roleplayers-
TW: verbal abuse, yelling
"So...what's your story?"
“My story? Really?”
You nod, staring down at the parking lot below the two of you.
“Why is there even a ladder up to the roof back here?” You think to yourself shortly after taking a garbage bag out to the dumpster in the back. Just towards the nearby alley way is a rusted ladder leading to the pizzeria’s rooftop. Out of sheer curiosity, you climb up, the metal squeaking under your weight.
Then you see her, Rabbit. You’ve never truly gotten a good look at her, since she’s typically cooped up in the kitchen. Now that you do see her, or at least her back, it does occur to you how tiny she really is. You always knew she was short, but on top of that she seems so thin. She wears that baggy jacket all day, but now that it’s tied around her waist and you can actually see her slim-fit uniform. She’s like a twig.
“What are you doing up here?” She suddenly spoke. You didn’t think she was aware of your presence.
“I could ask you the same thing,” You answer plainly.
“I just like it up here. And it’s a great place to watch the sunset, ya know?” Rabbit looked over her shoulder at you, the bunny ears on her beanie flopping along with her movement.
“Come. Sit with me.” She pats the space next to her, inviting you to join her. You walk over, shoes clopping against the roof. In a matter of moments, you’re sitting next to her, feet dangling over the edge of the building.
“So...what’s your story?” You ask after a few minutes of silence.
“My story, huh? It’s a long one, that’s for sure.”
“I have time.”
“If you insist…” Rabbit sighs, gazing out across the city, “But it’s not really a story… More like, several little ones. Moments that had a lot of impact on me, even ones that seem so...mundane.”
[May 5th, 2010]
“Momma! Momma! Look what I drew for you!!” Four-year-old Kaya excitedly held up a messily drawn picture of the family.
“That’s nice, Kaya.” her mother answered apathetically, eyes fixed on the television.
“But you didn’t even look at it!”
“I’m busy right now.”
“It’ll only take a second!” Kaya held it higher, standing on her toes to do so.
“Pretty please!” Kaya whined after there was no answer.
“Momma, look at it!!” Kaya stood in front of the TV, insisting her mother pay attention.
In one swift motion, her mother grabbed the drawing and tore it apart. She tossed the crumbled and tattered remains on the floor before pushing Kaya aside.
“B-but-!” Kaya’s eyes began to water.
“I’m. Busy.” Her mother hissed.
Kaya got back on her feet. She stared at her mother in horror, then down to her ruined drawing. She picked up what was left of it and raced back to her room, choking on her own tears.
[June 23, 2014]
“Happy birthday to me… Happy birthday to me… Happy birthday dear Kaya… Happy birthday to me…” Kaya sang half-heartedly. She was nine now, but it wasn’t anything special. Birthdays never were special.
She blew out the flame of the match she held. It was no cake, or cupcake for that matter, but it was something. Something to just prove she’d lived another year. She took a permanent marker and wrote “9” on the small space that was the wooden section of the match. She stored the match in an empty altoids container right next to the match from last year.
Thump thump thump!
“Come in.” Kaya sighed, putting the container in the top drawer of her nightstand and closing it.
“Hey shortstack,” her dad opened the door and poked his head in, “have you seen my lighter? I need a smoke but I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Sorry, no.”
“Damn. I keep losing those things.” He huffed and left, closing the door behind him.
“No clue why…” Kaya murmured to herself as she turned her attention to a solid grey pencil box sitting on her dresser.
That’s where she hid the lighters.
[November 26, 2018]
She gripped the thread in her teeth and tugged on it to tighten the stitching. She grabbed the two big green buttons sitting on her desk and positioned them on the yellow fabric. It was almost complete.
A few more stitches and it was all done. She held up the beanie, the pale yellow rabbit ears limply dangling at its sides. The green button eyes stared at her, accented by the rosy pink cheeks. She tugged the beanie over her messy brown hair and turned her attention to the mirror.
This. This felt right. This felt like her.
Rabbit.
[March 22nd, 2021]
“When are you going to get a job, you lazy little leech?” Her mother growled just as Rabbit stepped foot outside her bedroom. Rabbit clenched her fists and tried to walk past.
“If you don’t get a job this week you’re out of here!” Her mother blocked her path to the front door.
“I already have an interview, so shut the fuck up!!” Rabbit snapped, shoving past her mother and managing to get out the front door. Her mother lurched forwards to grab her by the hood of her coat, but missed. Without a second thought, Rabbit hopped on her scooter and raced down the sidewalk.
“I’m not missing another interview because of that fat ugly bitch!!” Rabbit cussed as she sped up, tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes. Luckily the place she applied to wasn’t too far from home...but that was also problematic. What if her parents just showed up to work unannounced? What would her boss think of their behavior?? Could they get her fired???
It wasn’t until someone shouted in surprise that Rabbit was brought out of her thoughts and into reality. She swerved and skidded to a halt, just inches away from hitting someone.
“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!!” Rabbit apologized profusely, “I wasn’t looking cause I was so worried I’d be late to my interview and-”
“It’s quite alright Miss Mayanna, I actually came out here to keep an eye out for you. Let’s get that interview done, shall we?” A man with icy blue eyes smiled crookedly at her.
He pushed the front doors open, releasing a wave of cheap pizza smell, “Welcome to Freddy’s, Miss Mayanna.”
16 notes · View notes
Golden |Drew Soulmate AU| Two|
A/n lowkey ngl im like really proud of this chapter. i really hope y’all like it. also idk if i wanna write a smutty chapter for the next part. i’d love to hear your opinion on if i should or not because ive never written smut before so itd probably be trash so...... whatcha think?
Warning: Swearing, kinda fast paced (wish it was slow burn but i dont have the attention span for that), mentions of vomit (at the end)
Word Count: Approx 1.9 k
APRIL 22ND 2020 12:32PM
“I’m going to shit myself.” Y/n said, moving the same strand of hair out of her face.
“Well that’s a really cute dress, you better fucking not.” Naya tutted from her position leaning against her bedroom wall.
“Okay. I’ve got this, right?”
“Yes! Now go get yo man! He’s still outside waiting for you.”
Y/n smiled at her reflection and let Naya drag her out into the hall. Naya walked over to the door and looked out the peephole.
“You didn’t tell me that he was that hot.”
Y/n pushed her out of the way to look through the peephole. Drew was leaning against a street pole and damn did he look good.
“Go get him girly.”
Y/n opened the door, Drew standing up straight at the sound of the door being opened. Drew’s heart stopped. She looked gorgeous and damn red was definitely her colour.
“Wow, you look, wow, you’re gorgeous.” Drew smiled as Y/n did a little twirl in response.
Y/n giggled and linked her arm through his. They walked down the street together to a small coffee shop that Drew said sold “chocolate chip cookies so good you’ll never be able to eat another cookie again”.
“The outside of your apartment looks nice.” Drew teased as they rounded the corner together.
Y/n blushed, sputtering out an apology. Naya hated having guests in their apartment even if it was for a few minutes.
“You’re cute when you blush.” Drew smiled down at Y/n, his hair flopping down against his forehead.
“You’re cute.” Y/n stated, spinning around so she was facing him while she walked backwards in front of Drew.
Drew reached out and took Y/n’s hands in his to make sure she wouldn’t fall over. Y/n’s skin tingled as their fingers interlocked. Damn, she could get used to this.
“Am I now?” Drew chewed on his lower lip as a rosy blush grew across his cheekbones. Drew chewing on his bottom lip when he got complimented made Y/n wanna compliment him for the rest of eternity.
“I suppose.” Y/n shrugged.
Drew gently tugged Y/n’s hands in protest, laughing along with her.
"How long have you been living in LA?" Drew asked, still holding Y/n’s hand.
"About a year or so. Naya, my roommate, we went to high school together and we were best friends. She wants to sing and well her dream brought us here."
"What about you?" Drew asked, tilting his head to look at her.
"What about me?"
"You told me why Naya's here, why are you here?"
"I wanna write. Or paint. I don't really know. Naya knew what she wanted, I'm just along for the ride." She shook her head in embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"
Drew smiled. "I'm an actor. I moved here from North Carolina to find my big break." Drew chuckled.
“Have you found it yet?” Y/n looked up at him as Drew stopped outside the coffee shop. It was a small building on the corner of the street, with window boxes filled with artificial blue carnations.
“I don’t know.” Drew smiled a sad smile before reaching forward and opening the door to the coffee shop, the smell of freshly baked cookies hitting Y/n instantly. Although the place was small, the inside felt bigger than it actually was. There were an elderly couple sitting in the corner beside the door and a young woman sat in the far corner working on a laptop with a forgotten cup of coffee beside her.
“This place is beautiful.” Y/n sighed in pleasure, Drew grinning as he took her hand and pulled her over to a table in the left hand corner beside a small window. Drew pulled out Y/n’s chair for her, she laughed.
“And who said chivalry is dead?” Drew sat down across from her, trying to focus so much on how beautiful she looked when she laughed.
“It’s easy to be chivalrous when it comes to you.” Drew shrugged, looking down at the table trying to ignore the rising blush on his cheeks. He had never felt like this about anyone before, they barely knew each other but already he craved to be closer to her. He needed to know everything about her, he needed to touch every inch of her skin, he needed her like an alcoholic needed a shot of whiskey. And with every passing second it just got worse. He was addicted. And so was she.
APRIL 22ND 2020 2:56PM
They walked out of the café, giggling and talking about everything and nothing at all. All they knew was that this date couldn’t end, not yet anyway.
“Wanna go to the beach? My car is parked around the corner.” Drew asked standing in front of Y/n, basking in her presence, their fingers still interlocked.
Y/n couldn't agree fast enough. Drew’s car was parked just a few feet down the street from the coffee shop, “I might have gone in before our date to ask them to save that table for us.”
Y/n climbed into the passenger seat and Drew drove them to the beach. Y/n reached over intertwining her pinky finger in his as he drove.
She stared out the window, hypnotised by the passing trees. Drew sneaked glances at her, hypnotised by Y/n.
From the Dining Table softly played in the background of their moment. Y/n basking in the presence of her soulmate, Drew basking in the presence of a girl he wished to know. So far from each other despite their interlocked pinky fingers all because of a bond meant to bring them together.
APRIL 22ND 2020 5:57PM
“You’re so golden.” Y/n muttered at Drew as she ran her fingers through his hair. They lay beside each other on an old ratty blanket Drew found in the trunk of his car. Drew’s hands were placed firmly on her waist, rubbing small circles on her still slightly damp skin from when he chased her along the shore.
Drew stared longingly at her lips, trying to tear his gaze away. He was not one to kiss on the first date and the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.
“Am I now?” Drew teased, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth.
Without thinking Y/n reached out and removed his lip from between his teeth. Him chewing his bottom lip did unholy things to her.
Drew swallowed as Y/n kept her thumb on his lip, carefully rubbing it before moving her hand to rest on his jaw.
Drew’s voice was hoarse, sending shivers down her spine as he said, “I really fucking want to kiss you right now.”
Y/n licked her lips, as Drew’s hand made their way to rest on her hips. “Please,” she whispered, taking in shallow breaths, “kiss me.”
Drew pulled her into him as he pressed his lips to hers, her hands instantly found their place in his hair. The kiss was slow and soft, all movements gentle and cautious despite the hunger in both of their chests.
Drew slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against Y/n’s as the both tried to collect their breaths. It was pointless as the more they tried to catch their breath, all they could smell was each other and before they knew it their lips were crashing back together.
This was needier but slow and sensual. Drew lay on his back, pulling Y/n on top of him to straddle his waist.
One of her hands was under his chin, ensuring that his lips never left hers. Drew’s hands were on the small of her back until one slowly crept up to her hair and the other under her jacket, pressing her even closer to his chest.
Drew slowly pulled away, taking Y/n’s bottom lip in between his teeth, drawing a moan from her as she devoured his lips again.
The connection between them, their soulmate connection, tugged at Y/n until they separated, Drew held her close to his chest. As he told her a story about his time in college, Y/n couldn’t ignore the fear that he’d never realise they were soulmates. Remembering the address that Naya wrote in her phone, Y/n swallowed her fear and enjoyed this moment with Drew.
APRIL 25TH 2020 1:28PM
“Mrs Lopez, I’m Y/n L/n, I’m Naya’s best friend. I need your help.” Y/n stood on the steps outside of a two storey house with vines growing on the walls and an arch of flowers over the front gate.
An elderly woman of average height opened the door, she had dark skin which was wrinkled with age although she held a youthful aura about her.
“Of course, soulmate problems eh? Come on in Chiquita.”
Y/n walked into her house, silently wondering how she knew that she had soulmate problems. Mrs Lopez led her into a small room at the front of the house that smelt of incense. Mrs Lopez gestured to Y/n to sit down at a small table as she took a seat across from her.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“I, well I, I think I found my soulmate.” Y/n stuttered, she felt foolish but she was desperate.
“Bonita that’s wonderful. What’s worrying you?” Mrs Lopez reached over and took Y/n hands in hers.
“He doesn’t know. He has no clue we’re soulmates and it’s killing me.” Y/n groaned, the pain in her chest returning.
“Oh you poor thing. That is unusual.” Mrs Lopez clicked her tongue, she released Y/n’s hands and poured her cup of hot chamomile tea.
“Are you sure that he’s yours? Sometimes emotions can cloud our spiritual judgements.”
“Yes. I know. He’s just, I know Mrs Lopez.” Mrs Lopez smiled a sad smile when her nose scrunched up suddenly.
“What age is he? When’s his birthday?”
“Em, November fourth, I believe. He’ll be turning 27.”
“Oh Amor.” Mrs Lopez shook her head as she stood up and started rummaging in her drawers.
“What? What’s wrong?” Y/n sat up, watching as Mrs Lopez walked around the room with surprising grace for her age.
Mrs Lopez didn’t respond as she walked back over to Y/n, a small bottle in her hand.
“We have the same soulmate through every lifetime. We may have different bodies, but the soul remembers. Something must have happened to him in his past life that is blocking him from remembering you in this life. You need to get him to remember what happened.” Mrs Lopez handed Y/n the bottle, “A few drops of this in a drink or in food until the memory returns should do the trick. It should take about three months to work. It’s just a herbal remedy, so it’s perfectly safe.”
Y/n held the bottle in her hands, she could solve this.
“Sometimes, the universe is wrong. Make sure you actually want this, you have the choice to choose if you want him to remember you. Some people don’t get that luxury.” Mrs Lopez sounded like she spoke from experience.
“But what did you need to know his birthday for?” Y/n watched as Mrs Lopez’s face fell in melancholy.
“Have you ever heard of the 27 club?”
“You mean the conspiracy about a bunch of celebrities dying at 27?” Y/n chuckled in confusion.
“There’s a reason. Soulmates are precious and rare so you only have so long to form the bond with them.” Y/n felt sick, “You have until their 27th birthday. But sometimes we run out of time and sometimes people can’t handle it.”
“Why? What happens if I can’t get Drew to remember me before his 27th birthday?”
“Amor,”
“Please. Mrs Lopez tell me.”
“You’ll forget. Both of you will forget that you ever met each other and every memory you have together, will leave you. You’ll only be left with a feeling that something is missing.”
Now Y/n was going to be sick.
Taglist: @butterfliesinthenightsky @netflix-imagines @copper-boom @starrystarkey93 @drew-starkey @maybanksbaby @poguequeen @prejudic3 @nxsmss @ilovejjmaybank
AHH!! did you like it??? i really hope you enjoyed. thank you so much for reading and feedback is VERY appreciated!! thank you and stay safe!
83 notes · View notes
Text
S.T. REWRITE - S2:E8; Chapter Eight, The Mind Flayer - [Pt. 6 - FINAL PART]
A Will Byers x Reader Series
An unlikely hero steps forward when a deadly development puts the Hawkins Lab on lockdown, trapping Will and several others inside.
Tumblr media
A/n: we're so close to season 3 you have no idea how excited I am 😭 will and you are ADORABLE in s3. Enjoy a sprinkle of Byler in this ch. for now, sorry it couldn't be more 😂
Oo also, the pov flashbacks are kinda terrible but its kind of on purpose depending how old they're supposed to be. The younger they're supposed to be the more straightforward if that makes sense
Warnings: so much angst ahead, oof, my goodness. Buckle up kids :> this is a quite ambitious chapter but hopefully I handled it okay. Possibly the longest chapter in Cosmic history?? I think??
||Will's POV||
The vulgar smell of chemicals lingers in my nose and sticks to the back of my throat as my eyes adjust to the blinding light.
Immediately I feel his icy presence, and felt myself losing control and all sense of self in a matter of seconds.
But I was still moving, squirming, but I'm not the one commanding my body.
Shit, not again!
This has been happening on and off since he got me, he goes silent until he needs me. But lately, it's all the time. Usually I stand a fighging chance to break free but this time he's in full control. I want to scream and cry, tell my mom I'm here, I'm here! But he won't let me. I'm still trapped in this small corner of my mind, and the longer he stays the smaller the prison gets.
There are four(?) figures looking at me, but it's hard to make out their faces at first. Mom! Mom is here, she'll help me, I know it. And... Jonathan!
Help me! I'm so sorry! I couldn't control it, he made me! He made me!
They don't hear me, everytime I try to speak, yell, cry or do anything, he won't let me. It's been like that since I was admitted. Since the fire in the tunnels.
Just thinking about the pain makes him angry, I can sense it.
I recognize another face, the man they asked me to identify but couldn't. I know I know him. I know I can trust him. But the fog... Ever since the monster got me, a fog has been spreading in my brain, making me forget things. People.
The man, Hopper, I think his name is, steps towards me with a look of concern. He's cautious of me, I can tell. Not that I blame him, but again it makes me want to cry, even though I'm not in control. But I still feel the pain, like the sting in my wrists and ankles as he fights against the restraints.
It's then I fully process I'm actually tied up. I don't have time to react before I hear my own voice speaking without my permission.
"What? What?" I watch as passenger in my own body as he makes me look around the room and down at the restraints. "What is this?"
Nobody answers, and I'm beginning to grow fearful myself. I know they wouldn't hurt me, but they might have to. In order to get him out. And I'm worried about how they plan on doing that.
"What? What is this?" He repeats.
Again, nobody answers, and he fights harder against the restraints hurting me more.
"Why am I tied up?"
Mom steps out from the shadows and I calm a bit, the real me, anyway. She kneels down in front of me, looking up at me seriously.
"Will, we just want to talk to you." She says.
I'm here! I want to talk too, Mom, please hear me.
"We're not gonna hurt you." She says gently.
I know Mom, please just tell me what's going on!
My head rips up, making me look at everyone in the room frantically. There's still one figure I can't quite make out, but he doesn't seem to care about them.
"Where am I?" He demands.
The man kneels down next to me, and I can feel the monster's anger and agitation. He's threatened.
The man holds up a piece of paper, a drawing. I recognize at once that this is something else the fog has touched. I know it, and it must be something I made. Fear takes over me; my own, real fear of the monster that was now apart of me, but I also feel his fear. All I know is the drawing upsets him, and he knows something I don't.
"Recognize this?" Hopper asks, and the shadow monster shakes my head. "Do you recognize this?"
My head shakes again, and I barely hear a soft 'no' come from my lips.
I'm now looking at Mom again, she's staring deep into my eyes. My body isn't mine anymore, but I swear when she looks at me, she's looking at me. Like she knows not only that I'm trapped and that this is not me talking, moving, answering, but she knows exactly where I am. She's looking at my real self that's trapped in this small corner in the back of my mind and I'm certain I'd be crying if I could.
"We wanna help you," She says to me. "But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it."
Oh no.
His anger explodes in an instant, so bright and so intense that even I find myself feeling annoyed. But I remind myself that it's not my anger. I want to help. I want to tell them, but I still can't. Instead, my voice comes out in a hostile shout that makes my mom jump.
"Why am I tied up?" They both try to calm me, calm him. But it doesn't work. "Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?"
Mom shakes her head, and it's clear to see how uncomfortable she is growing. I just wish she knew for sure this isn't me yelling at her.
He continues shouting the same thing, and I can feel my throat start to sting and ache from screaming.
"Why am I tied up?! Why am I tied up?!" Hopper pushes me back, and my wrists and ankles and even chest begin to sting as he fights against the wires again. "WHY AM I TIED UP?! WHY AM I TIED UP?!"
The lights begin to flicker and my body continues to kick and scream but not the words I wanted to scream. It's just the same question, and he won't stop growing louder. I see the figures, Jonathan and Mike...! But they're scared of me. They're backing away, and Mike briefly looks down at his hand and behind the post. The figure had grabbed his hand, but I still can't quite make them out.
I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!
"WHY AM I TIED UP?!" He screams, now fighting hard against Hopper's hands which are now trying to pin me back. And the more he screams, the deeper my voice goes and I swear it sounds less and less like my own voice. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"
Please... Please, somebody help me.
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"
Hopper now has his arms wrapped around me, and I know it's out of restraint but it's also gentle and sympathetic like a hug. He knows I wouldn't do this, I can tell because he holds me tight and I even hear him mumble encouraging things trying to calm me.
My mom does the same, but I can feel the furious look welded to my face as he screams at her, and yet she still tries to comfort me.
"-sweetie,"
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"
"-honey, it's okay."
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"
Let me go! Leave me and family alone! Go away!
I know it must hear me, but since I am no longer in control all I can do is try to fight it. It's hard, but I don't give up.
Stop it! Just stop it!
I focus as much as I can, as much as I can muster. All I can focus on is the hurt and fear in everyone's eyes. Mike's, Jonathan's, and my moms. Hers hurts the most.
Suddenly I feel my body start to weaken, and my voice starts to lower in volume. But I still feel helpless no matter how hard I fight.
He's angry with me now.
"Let me go! Let me go!"
The shift in Mom's eyes keeps me going. She can tell I'm fighting, but I don't think she knows I can't hold out much longer.
Mom, please...
"Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go..."
My breath is harder and harder to find, and my shoulders heave as my lungs fight for breath. But I can feel it; I slowed him down.
"Go..." he mumbles weakly.
The lights stop flickering and Hopper lets me go. Mom stands briefly to sit across from me on the chair. She watches me carefully, and I can feel the tiniest bit of relent from him.
"Do you know what March 22nd is?" She asks calmly.
He's trying to figure out what to do, he's calculating. And he must be pushing back because I realize that that day sounds familiar. But the way she talks it seems like I should know.
"It's your birthday,"
The fog is coming for me. I can't remember my own birthday, and I've already forgotten other things about myself. Maybe if I keep talking to him?
Please, just let me go!
He wants me gone completely, and already I feel myself slipping back out of whatever control I had. He's winning.
Go away! Please, just go away. Go away... Go away... Go away.
But that's when she sees me again, she looks directly at the real me thats trapped and fighting for my life.
"Your birthday."
All I can do is listen to her, cling to her voice as the fog closes in on me. But I feel it start to slow when she continues, her voice as soft as ever.
"When you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons. Do you remember that?"
Mom smiles a bit as she thinks about it, and I feel a single grain of strength returns to me. I can almost picture the lost memory, it comes back in small details, like a blurred home video with lots of static.
"It was 120 colors," she says, and I can see tears building up in her eyes. "And all your friends, they got you Star Wars toys, but all you wanted to do was draw with all your new colors."
Her smile grew a bit, not once looking away from me and I noticed an overwhelming gleam of pride. But still, I listen completely hooked on her every word. And I don't know if it is because of me, or what, but it almost feels like he's stopped too.
"And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn't from a movie." She shook her head, gleaming at me still even if her voice began to break. "I-I-It was your spaceship."
Rainbow ship...!
"A rainbow ship is what you called it," her bottom lip began to shake before she smiled brightly once more as she spoke. "A-and you must have used every color in the box. I took that with me to Melvald's and I put it up and I told everyone who came in, 'My son drew this,'"
'Mom! Come on, it's not funny! Just take it down!'
'Honey, how are people supposed to know how great this is if I don't show them?' She asks.
'Mo~m!'
"And you were so embarrassed," she chuckles.
I'm remembering... Mom, I remember! I'm remembering!
But she still can't hear me, I'm still not in control. But he's listening. He's quiet.
"But I was so proud," Mom leans forward looking deep into my eyes. "I was so, so proud."
Mom...
She's fighting back tears now and I hate now more than ever I can't speak my own thoughts.
Mom, please! Keep talking, it's working. Just please keep talking...
Another voice speaks instead.
"Do you remember the day Dad left?"
My head whips up to see Jonathan, and for a moment I don't even know who was in control. I can feel it working, clinging to the stories they are telling me. They feel like home even if I don't remember.
It hurts to see his eyes are watering, and he looks just as worried and sad as Mom.
Like the crayon story I try and search for the memory. I feel as if I'm reaching around in the darkness, trying to find any kind of detail that might help me remember. And he doesn't get mad at me when I don't respond.
He walked towards me instead, and kneels down beside me.
"We stayed up all night building Castle Byers..."
I can feel that my face has softened over time, but still all I can do is listen. He's watching Jonathan, and I can feel his silence. Not his absence, he's still there inside me but it's like he's trying to make sense of what these moments are and why they're affecting me. Regardless, moments of that night came flooding back to me.
'I'm trying, Jonathan!' I whine, stopping to hit the ground with the hammer out of frustration before dropping it all together. "It's this stupid thing, it's balance must be off or something.
'Don't blame the hammer, Will,' Jonathan jokes dryly, not even looking at me.
I drop the hammer in frustration, I practically threw it and I begin to sniffle.
'Well, I do! This stupid hammer isn't doing the one thing it's suppose to do. How are we supposed to make Castle Byers if he's not helping?'
I go quiet, realizing what I had just said. I look to Jonathan shyly, and he's already stopped his hammer to look at me.
'We tried, Jonathan,' I mumble, sniffling. 'but it's no use. Let's just go home.'
'Go home?' He asks. 'No way! We said we were going to build Castle Byers, we always said we would. And we are. With or without Dad. He'll just have to miss out,'
"just like you drew it." Jonathan tells me, his face scrunching up a bit as he chuckles. "And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering."
But you were still patient with me. You helped me get through it even though you were going through the same thing... And I never thanked you for that.
I feel my mouth begin to twitch as I try to say the words, but nothing comes out. It was working, it was almost working! But I don't think he can tell...
"And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway." Like Mom, his voice started to crack. "And we were both sick for like a week after that."
You let me stay in your room and we played cards and other games while we were stuck in bed.
"But we just had to finish it, didn't we?"
Suddenly, I felt my fingers tap the sides of the chair. But, it was me! I think it was me!
"We just had to." Jonathan repeated, his voice still breaking.
Jonathan, Mom, anyone! Is anyone seeing its working?
"Do you remember the first day that we met?"
It was Mike speaking now, and my head turned to meet him. Again! I can't quite be sure if it was really my doing but any question of it went out the window when I saw his expression. He had stepped forward, and I noticed he was crying.
"It was... It was the first day of kindergarten." He spoke with a big lump in his throat. "I knew nobody."
A swingset... I remember a swingset...
"I had no friends and..." he sniffled. "I just felt so alone and so scared, but..."
He looked up at me, and for a brief moment it was the same look from that day. The details were still fuzzy but, that look I recognized. Sad but hopeful.
"I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too." He fought a hiccup as he spoke, the kind from crying and another tear rolled down his cheek. "You were just swinging by yourself. And I just walked up to you and... I asked."
'Hi, um, my name's Mike...'
He was looking at me, and he kept shuffling on his feet. He looked a lot more nervous than mean. I look up at him, and decide giving my name wouldn't hurt.
"I'm Will," I whisper.
"I asked if you wanted to be my friend." He chokes. "And you said yes..."
"Do... Do you wanna be my friend?"
Everyone else was picking on me for not knowing anyone. But he wants to be my friend!
I smile, pointing to the open swing next to me. "Yeah! Wanna play?"
Mike smiled at me, and took the seat. He looked pretty happy. But I am too!
"You said yes," he croaks. "It was the best thing I've ever done."
I can feel my face start to break, every twitch is a sign I'm gaining control even though my fingers are still moving as well. With all the strength I can gather, I'm able to turn my head at Mom. Fighting against him feels like I'm swimming up stream.
Mom, please get me out. I think I'm losing...
For once I feel hopeful that she notices something when she starts searching my eyes, my expressions and I'm still fighting. I have to fight for every muscle, and doing that feels like every one of them is made of lead.
Mom must have caught something in my eyes cause of the look in hers. But it's too late. I can feel him pushing back again.
No! Leave. Me. Alone! Leave me alone. I want my mom! I just want my mom!
I feel an overwhelming chill and I feel my body temperature drop again, not even realizing it had started to creep up again. The fog was coming back, and quicker and stronger than ever until I could barely hold on.
Then I hear my voice again.
"Let me go."
No! No, stop! STOP!
But then Mom looks away and down at the floor, sighing, and I feel whatever crumb of hope I had dissapear.
What? No, Mom, look. Just please look! Talk to me, stay with me, just please don't leave!
She looks like she's contemplating something, and then she looks up at Mike asking a question with her eyes. I can't imagine what, but Mike seems to understand. Then, they both look past the post at the figure I had never made out.
"Sweetie, why don't you come say hi?" My mom croaks to the stranger.
My head moves to look all around the room and allowing me to look at the others expressions. They all watch expectantly, and when my eyes land on Mike's he nods at the figure.
My body tenses suddenly but I don't know why. He seems to though, and it feels like another wave of ice is pumped into my bloodstream.
For a moment, there's the sound of shuffling footsteps and I barely detect movement. Like they're inching away from the hiding spot.
Then she steps out from behind the thick sheet of white light wearing a timid, tearstreaked face.
Y/n! You're here!
The one blissful movement I have vanishes in an instant when he takes full control once more. My muscles tighten and I feel my jaw clench shut, and the pain of the wires against my skin comes back as he starts moving me again. My face curls and I hear my voice saying such bad things to her.
"Get out!" She winces, but this time she doesn't listen to him. "GO AWAY!"
"No," she states, but I can tell it's hard for her. "not until I talk to Will."
"GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"
"-Will" my mom tries.
My body starts to move again, fighting against the restraints and Hopper has to pin me back again.
I can feel his anger again. But there was something else too. The same thing I felt the first time he took total control.
Fear.
Y/n, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm trying. I'm fighting! I don't mean it, I don't mean it!
He still fights and kicks, but the longer I see her the less I care about the pain on my ankles and wrists. It's the look on her face, she's heartbroken. She looks destroyed. Just as upset as she was that night, and guilt pulls me back down. My strength for fighting him diminishes, but what stops it from dissapearing altogether is the fact she hasn't moved.
All she had done was take the seat across from me. And just... waited.
He kicked and screamed until I felt my limbs grow tired, but still she waited. Once again since I woke up, I'm happy that Hopper was here to hold me back so I didn't break free.
How are you not leaving? After all I did?
Finally, he starts to stop, and thats when I feel Hopper's hand slowly release me. And even though he stopped, the menacing glare he gave her never weakened.
"Will," she says finally. "I know... I know you're in there."
Like Mike, her voice is already strained as she speaks through her tears. Even her nose sounds a bit clogged and I feel my heart break and stomach sink all over again. How hard I was making her cry.
She sniffles, and she begins wringing her hands revealing her nerves. Then she raises them in defense, her arms still glued to her legs as she leans on them.
"I'm just here to talk, I promise."
I know, Y/n. I trust you. I really hope you know that.
He doesn't agree though, he's furious she's even here. Every nerve is standing on edge and I feel colder than ever.
Leave her alone!
I feel my nerves jump, he's still anxious to get away from her.
"What about the day I officially joined the party? Do you remember that?"
My heart is pounding violently against my ribcage almost to a point it hurts to breathe. She's looking into my eyes, likes she's trying to find me. I think she actually is. Just like what happened with the others, the picture is hard to find. It's all just too fuzzy. The small part of me that's left can tell Y/n knows my answer, and that she's dissapointed. But she still doesn't appear mad at me, even though she has every reason to be.
"It was around fifth grade," she began, "You guys had been friends with Dustin for almost a year, and even though everyone saw, and treated me as Dustin's sister... you didn't."
She paused for a moment, trying to keep her sobs in. I could tell by the way her jaw clenched and she bit the inside of her cheek. My own throat began to swell as I felt an enormous lump growing in the back. I hate seeing her so sad, and I hate even more that I'm the reason. She began shaking her head.
"Sometime during spring vacation, I remember Dustin coming up to me all cranky" she chuckled, and looked down at the floor lost in the memory. I waited for her to continue, wanting nothing more than to soak up the missing details when she smiled. "He had just come home from playing with you guys at Mikes, and he was holding a small yellow card with my name on it,"
Y/n grinned, looking at her hands wistfully as if she could still see the card in her hands.
And then she looks up at me, with a wide, trembling smile but there were still tears in her eyes.
"It was an invitation to your birthday party,"
The thick layer of static over the memory flickered, and for a brief second the image was clear and I could make out one thing. Just a small moment in time.
Y/n, she looked a lot younger. She was standing in my backyard. But she was off to the side, all alone. She was watching Lucas and Dustin bobbing for apples in a big pool.
"From you. You had insisted I come and you knew Dustin couldn't say no," she laughs.
"I was so excited, but," she sniffled, her smile falling. "even Lucas and Mike didn't bother to include me, they all forgot I was there and for a moment I thought nothing would change. But... then you came up to me, smiling all nervously, but without skipping a beat you asked me. You asked if I wanted to do something else."
"It was so casual, too. We weren't even proper friends yet, and it was your birthday party, but you knew something was wrong, and you asked me how I could feel more included."
Y/n shakes her head, seeming disbelieving.
"We talked for a bit, and then you offered to show me Castle Byers. 'It's just over the hill,' you told me. So we went - and figures, the guys never realized we were gone - but I thought it was, just, the best thing. We played in there for a few minutes, these toy cars were all you had in there at the time,"
She chuckled, and held up her hands to demonstrate something of size.
"I remember you had this Tonka Truck, it was just smaller than a toaster and you let me play with it. You said it always cheered you up, and maybe it would help me, too. You even let me keep it at the end of the day, cause you saw how happy I was, even though the truck wasn't what me so happy."
I could feel my face twitching again, my fingers drumming against the chair numbingly. And then I felt a single hot tear slide down my cheek, and his discomfort grew.
"But you told me something in Castle Byers that day, something I don't think I'll ever forget, even if I wanted to..." she was crying again. "You told me, that we could go talk to the others and convince them to let me join, that I could be your guys' friend... I asked you why you were being so nice to me, why you wanted me to apart of your group,"
A small sob came out in the form of a chuckle, and she wiped a tear off her cheek.
"And you told me it was because that was your birthday wish."
The room was dead silent again, and I could hear sniffles coming not only from Y/n, but Mom and Jonathan, too.
"Sure enough, we were all the best of friends just days later. We were building forts, playing cards, I think we even got our walkies a few months later and stayed up all night leraning morse code... You helped me make that happen, Will. And I'll always be greatful for that."
Another tear slips down my cheek, but I feel my face is as still as stone. The next thing I feel is his icy grip pulling me back down, and this time I know in my gut it's for good. In once desperate attempt, I scream for my muscles - my arms, legs, head, anything to see if I can move. And that's when I realize, my fingers are still wiggling. I don't think he can tell. I don't think he knows.
He's too focused on her! I just need them to look. I can get a message out. My fingers tap just a little louder as I try to remember the right combination.
Right. Here.
Right. Here.
As I focus all my energy into the message, I hear her broken voice speak again.
Right. Here.
Right. Here.
Here.
"Will, if-if you're in there," she looks around at eveyone else in the room and back to me. "Please, just talk to us. Say anything, just please help us help you."
Right. Here.
Right. Here.
The fog grows, stretching farther over me and chilling my body.
Right. Here.
Come on, hurry up. Anyone!
Here.
Am I remembering it wrong?
Here.
Here.
Hopper jumps up abruptly, glancing quickly across the room, and back once more at me. Suddenly, his hand dives into his pocket to fish something out.
Here.
Here.
Here.
He pulls out a vial - or is a needle? - I can't quite make it out in the light but I see him uncap whatever it is, walking towards me.
Here.
Here.
Here.
It plunges into my arm and before I know it I feel myself growing sleepy. The last thing I feel is cold fear and the feel my fingers slowing growing sluggish against the cardboard until it stops altogether.
Here...
||3rd Person POV||
Will awakes once more, attempting to process the many things flooding his senses. The return of the chemicals in his nostrils and throat, the blinding white light blocking his vision, and the feeling of being watched. But this time, he does not wake to a dead silent room, but a string of all too familiar music floods his ears.
The first notes of Should I Stay or Should I Go explode through the quiet air, and strangely enough for Will, everyone inside with him has dawned an all new demeanor. They aren't weary anymore, rather they are determined. Jonthan is the first to take a seat across from his brother, an expecting look in his eyes.
"Do you remember the first time I played you this?"
Will's body sits completely still, a lost look in his eyes.
"Mom and Dad were both arguing in the next room," Jonathan continues. "So I played you the mix tape I made you. And it was the first time you got into music. Real music."
Steadily, his fingers begin to tap a new pattern all unbeknownst to the Mind Flayer who watches his captors studiously. Particularly the young Henderson girl lingering in the corner awaiting her turn.
All the while, Hopper stands behind the Byers boy, walkie behind his back as he echoes the boy's message to the other half of the team waiting inside to translate.
Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy surround the kitchen table. Each with a task of their own.
"Dash, dot, dash, dot," Dustin mumbles, feverishly scribbling them on a piece of paper.
Lucas and Max scan the coordinating letter provided on an old guide.
"Dash, dot, dash... Yeah, got it!" Lucas exclaims. "C!"
Nancy transcribes onto a fresh piece of paper and this process continues as the others take turns talking to Will. Mike is next.
"And then the party escaped into the sewers," he recalls excitedly. "and there were those big insect things, and you guys were still on level one. Then you cast Fog Cloud and you saved us. You saved the whole party!"
Another pattern by Will turned into another letter on paper as the kids listened intently to Hopper's incoming message.
"L!"
"Dash dash-"
"-O!"
"We were so happy to see snow," Y/n explains, arms waving as she reimagines the moment. "and we got so wrapped up in our snowball fight, we didn't see my mom open the garage and when you ducked, I knocked over the old floor lamp that had been sitting out there. We had to spend the rest of the day cleaning it up, but we couldn't stop laughing,"
"-S,"
"You saw how sad Y/n was," Joyce says, knowing she was just about to reveal a fact to the girl in the room, a fact she might have missed out. But this doesn't stop her from telling the story, or breaking away from her son's gaze. "and when you two came back from Castle Byers, I saw her thanking you for your Tonka Truck."
"-E."
"and I pulled you aside before she left, and I told you that we couldn't afford to buy another one,"
Y/n's eyes flicker from Joyce back to Will, swallowing the entirely new perspective her side of the story revealed.
"-G."
Joyce began to choke on her words at the pride of her son, as well as Y/n who stood off in the corner with a simultaneous swelling, and breaking of her heart. "You said she should have it because she was sad. She's sad, Mom, and I want to make that go away."
"-A."
"I love you so much," Joyce tearfully coos.
"-T."
"So, so much."
"-E!"
The play button ejects on the Byers boom box, the music coming to an end and the others gather around Nancy at the table. Will's message drips off their tongues simultaneously and a chill spreads through the air at what it reads.
"CLOSE GATE"
A loud, shrill ring pierces the chilled air and a total of six heads whip up at the startling noise of the Byers phone; All who are inside, and the sixth belonging to Will.
The rest in the shed follow suit, and they experience the plunging feeling of fear as they realize what is about to happen.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Dustin spews through his clenched jaw, the first of his group to reach the phone.
He rips it off the line and slams it back down.
The others look around at one another, silently wondering if they were in the clear. A second shrill ring answers their question, and Dustin scrambles to hang up the phone. Nancy beats him to it, and rips the phone - mount and all - and throws it to the ground with an angred grunt.
Everyone sighs, and Max is first to voice their shared concern.
"Do you think he heard that?"
"It's just a phone," Steve replies, his tone of voice betraying his intended confidence. "It could be anywhere... Right?"
Without his permission, Will's eyelids flutter closed and his head begins to twitch.
The Mind Flayer had begun his search.
"Hey," Joyce jumps up worriedly, placing her palm on her son's knee gently shaking it to get his attention. "Hey, can you hear me?"
His bretahing grows increasingly ragged, his eyes moving under his eyelids as the tunnels begin to spread under his command.
Hopper kneels down beside Will, his voice grave. "It knows. It knows where we are."
"Shit," Joyce hisses.
She jumps from her seat altogether and grabs the remaining dose of anesthesia and plunges into Will's other arm. His head drops in seconds and Hopper, Y/n and Jonathan flood outside onto the lawn. Their eyes scan the trees behind them, as well as the rest of the backyard but it is eerily silent.
Until the piercing cry of the Demodogs carries through the air, and across the night sky announcing their advances.
The others hear it even from inside the house, and they near the window. Moonlight spills onto their faces, illuminating their fear as they realize the dangers to come.
"That's not good," Dustin breaths, paralyzed.
The quartet return to the shed, pushing themselves past the makesshift curtains blanketing the door.
"They're coming!" Jonathan cried to his mother and Mike.
Everyone scrambles to untangle Will from his restraints, and scurry inside, Will over Jonathan's shoulder.
The only one to linger is Hopper, who hesitates outside the shed, and goes back for the rifle that sat amongst the pile of the sheds discarded things.
He's the last to enter the house, closing and locking the door behind him, and yet he does not know what good it will do them. He marches across the kitchen, grabbing the other rifle he had nabbed from the lab, and enters the living room. His eyes widen when he sees the children packed against the windows on the couch.
"Hey." He barks. "Hey, get away from the windows!"
They scramble off the couch and one by one everyone else files into the living room as they prepare. Hopper's scanning eyes land on Jonathan and he holds up one of the rifles.
"Do you know how to use this?"
"What?" Jonathan asks, still processing the sudden change of events.
"Can you use this?" Hopper seethes, turning red in the face as his impatience grows.
Another voice answers.
"I can,"
Dustin and Jonathan part as Nancy steps forward, and catches the rifle in her hands without a second thought. Her and Hopper cock their guns, and take their aim. In a matter of moments, everyone is packed in against one other in a protective huddle, their hearts beating as loud as drums. Some were lucky - and quick - enough to get their hands on anything they could use as a weapon. Apart from Y/n, who began wringing out her hands and attempting to shake out her nerves, and Steve who wielded his signature weapon; the spiked bat.
The tense silence grows thicker, hanging in the air far longer than any one of them would have preferred. The occasional chitter could be heard, and the rusting of branches followed all too soon.
"Where are they?" Max cries, her fear grows when she finds herself without a weapon.
Subconsciously, she moves herself tighter to be near Lucas who has drawn his wrist rocket.
Another silence, and the next noise to be heard beside their ragged breaths is the sudden groaning of the beast who growing closer by the second.
What sounded to a select few like a human cry was drowned out in the several thuds and more screeches from the Demodogs. The sound of branches breaking outside brought everyone's attention - and aim - to the dining room window visible from where they stood.
"What are they doing?" Nancy mumbled through her fearful panting.
Everyone could see the leaves shake violently against the window as if something had landed in the bushes.
The battle cries of the Demodogs flew from window to window at an alarming speed, as did the barrels of Hopper and Nancy's guns.
Everyone watches with great worry and confusion as the battle cries quickly turn to cries of pain. And for one small moment they think they hear the sounds of bones crushing as it screeches in pain.
Before their minds can conjure any possible explanation, the far left window pane shatters as the body of a Demodog comes crashing onto the living room floor. Violent cries of terror rip from everyone's throats as they jump out of the way, turning on the intruder.
Their guards lower on a single notch as they realize the thing lays completely lifeless. And yet, they creep forward to examine the body, Hopper the closest of all as he advances on what he hopes is its corpse.
"Holy shit," Dustin whispers.
"Is it dead?" Max gapes, wearily inching forward towards the monster.
Hopped takes a deep breath, gun still drawn and finger on the trigger and inches his boot closer to the Demodog. It's lifeless head falls to the side limply, and everyone breathes what they know to be a temporary sigh of relief.
The relief is snatched up in seconds, and everyone's guard returns when they hear a soft wooden creak coming from the front door. Everyone returns to their position, weapons drawn ready to fight.
An unusual sight turns their heads as they watch the deadbolt unlock by itself. It's sharp click booms in their ears like thunder. Everyone creeps forward by a mere few steps, and in their heightened adrenaline fueled state, they begin to questions the Demodogs capabilities if only for a fleeting moment before dismissing it altogether.
They watch in awe as the chain lock on the door, slides itself unlocked, and drops instantly, swing limply against the door. It creates a taunting scrape as it grazes the door.
Everyone wonders what they are about to face, everyone apart from a the dutiful chief, a missing experiment, and a certain boy who does not dare let himself entertain the idea in fear of another painful heartbreak.
With soft and muffled clicks from the tumblers, the wooden door creaks open painfully slow. A worn out pair of white sneakers fit around a dainty pair of feet cross the threshold and onto the wooden floors.
All weapons lower immediately in shock as they gape at the sight before them. Standing across the room in a brand-new wardrobe and slightly longer hair blending perfectly with her usual bleeding nose and fierce look in her eye was none other than El.
Her eyes scan the small crowd of familiar and unfamiliar shock-ridden faces until they land on the one she had never stopped dreaming about. Her heart skips a beat when she does not seem him at first before bursting altogether when he steps out from behind Hopper's towering frame.
His widened eyes are swimming in tears as he gazes at her as of she were mirage. Her hard and concentrated glare melts immediately into vulnerability as she meets his eyes, feeling eerily similar to him as if he would inevitably disappear as soon as she woke up.
And instantaneously, matching bright smiles break out on their faces when they know.
Neither of them were dreaming, and at long last, they had finally found one another again.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
PLEASE!!! Don't stop fighting for black lives. This has been said a thousand times and it shouldn't have ever needed be said in the first place but just because it isn't on the news as much anymore, that it's not "trending" anymore doesn't mean it's over. Please continue fighting back and doing what you can. Links below as usual.
Protect Protestors From Federal Officers
[my city of Portland is not the only one to face this, as there are plans of using this tactic on other cities trump views as a threat. Please help!]
[Link]
Black Trans Education Foundation GoFundMe
"We're raising money to provide $3,000 scholarships directly to 20 black trans students."
Donate if you can and please, please share!!
[Link]
rown & black businesses damaged by the protests
"In efforts to help Black & Brown businesses that were damaged during riots this weekend, @ buyblackatl and @ spoiledberry are raising money. Please share this, and if you or anyone you know owns a Black/Brown owned business that was impacted, please contact us. 🖤"
[Link]
+++
Tag List: @dickkwad​​ @aimee-lucass​​ @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa​​  @miscellaneoustoasts​ @happyandlonely-blog​ @missmulti​ @youpi-chan​ @peeperparkour​ @ba-responds​ @bibliophilesquared​ @blogforhoes​ @witch-of-all-things-soft​ @shawkneecaps​ @whothefuckstolemykeds​ @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​ @stranger-things4​ @heavenlycat567​ @nightbu-g​ @grapesauze​
DM me, or drop by my inbox if you want to be added!
64 notes · View notes
baenxietydad · 4 years
Text
all this bad blood here, won’t you let it dry? || the baes
@justkeepdancing-nemo​
Date: August 22nd, 2020
tl;dr: Nemo invited both his father and the Songs to his recital. It goes as you would expect.
MARLIN:
 Mu-yeol was not crying, nope. He was one-hundred percent not! Crying!
Right, okay, maybe a little. His son was talented, what can he say? He saw So-yeon’s joy in him when he danced, but most of all she saw his son’s hard work, and it was like he forgot how tired and stressed out he made himself to pay for dance. Seeing Nemo dance made every bit of it worth it.
“Nam-min!” He called to him after the recital, waving him over. 
He was at least thirty percent sure Nemo would turn around and walk away from him...but maybe he’d accept a hug just this once.
 NEMO:
Another recital swept Nemo up into its arms and he danced through it. Nemo had made a new record number for himself too when it came to the number of routines that he’d been cast in, from ballet, street,to contemporary. He found himself running off stage at the end of each number to go back to the dressing rooms, where he stripped off his costume so he could slip into his next one. The speed of it all kept Nemo from thinking too deeply about how this recital was different-- how it wasn’t just Appa in the audience, or Robbie, or Tae, Finn, Louie-- but the Songs. My grandparents, Nemo thought to himself as he wiped sweat from his forehead and then darted back to the stage. Eomma’s parents. Eomma’s sister.
He had to make them proud.
He danced with everything he had. The music resonated through him, turning him into an extension of its notes and its rhythms. When the recital was over and he was back on stage bowing, the applause thundered in his brain and he almost couldn’t believe it. It had gone so so fast. He lifted his face up and smiled out at the crowd, the lights bright in his eyes.
He didn’t even bother to change out of his last outfit. Instead, he headed straight out to the lobby and began to search…
He saw Appa first, and that felt right.
Nemo beamed and darted over to him. With his whole body still buzzing with adrenaline and endorphins, and Appa grinning back at him, the past few weeks were almost insignificant. He had never not hugged Appa after a dance recital. How could he not hug him now?
Nemo didn’t even really think about it, just pushed into Appa’s space and wrapped his arms around him. “Appa!” he exclaimed loudly over the crowd of people. 
 MARLIN:
 Nemo hugged him. Nemo hugged him, and it was only his desire to not embarrass his son that kept him from bursting into tears. He managed to hug Nemo back and not cling to him with too much desperation and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 
“Nam-min!” He reached up to mess with his hair. “You were wonderful, as always. Dance is really your calling, maybe you should look into studying it after you age out of this.”
Yes. He was suggesting university. Why not? His son was too talented to stop at eighteen. 
“I’d hate to see you stop dancing anytime soon.”
NEMO:
Dance is really your calling-- 
Maybe it was. 
The thought had started to sneak in more often since reading Eomma’s journals. As soon as it did though, Nemo shook it off--stamped it out-- blew it away like a leaf caught in a squall. Because ha, it couldn’t be. Nemo hadn’t trained enough. He wasn’t as tall as the best ballerinos nor as strong. He was lacking in many areas, which Appa would never see because he didn’t train and also had his Appa-glasses on at all times…
Plus he was a fairy and he’d never, never, get cast in a company. Why spend money at a uni when it’d never go anywhere…?
But the words still warmed Nemo’s chest and he scrunched his nose for a shy moment. “I won’t stop-- can always teach maybe anyway, though who knows, maybe I’ll be a performance-talent after all.”
 It wouldn’t be the same, of course--Nemo would never be the best at that. But...he was starting to enjoy those lessons as he found ways to work with his small wing to pull off the aerial stunts. 
 MARLIN:
 “And you would be the best in the Hollow.” Mu-yeol said, smiling down at his sweet boy’s face. “You are beautiful, Nam-min. I’m so happy to make dance class happen for you when I see you.”
He regretted not bringing flowers now; he just wasn’t sure if he...if he wanted them. Would accept them. 
Mu-yeol was about to shower his son in more praise, when coming up from behind Nemo was his worst nightmare. The nightmare who, last he saw her, threatened to take his fledgling and raise him without him, and who blamed him for So-yeon’s death as much as he did himself. 
Kang Kyung-ok, if the flesh, and in a dress fit for the London Ballet. 
“No. No…” he whispered as she approached. 
NEMO:
Appa’s smile dropped off his face. 
And okay-- Nemo really had meant to tell Appa before this. He kept trying to gather this courage. But every time he tried, anxiety surged through him and it was like every fight he ever had with Appa was on replay at the same time, a cacophony of arguments about how Nemo didn’t know better and he was just a fledgling and Appa was just trying to protect him-- punctuated at the end by the exact same expression that Appa wore now. 
If Nemo told Appa, he wouldn’t have come to the recital. But wasn’t the recital a good place for, if not a fresh start, just not a bad start? It was neutral ground, no place or time for fighting, not among the celebrations.
Guilt still flashed through him as he drew away from Appa’s arms. “Appa,” he started slowly. “It’s okay. I ah...reached out to them and they’ve been visiting for the past week. I know I should have told you but I knew you’d be upset--” Nemo’s eyes darted from the Songs to his abeoji again. “But there’s no reason to be, right?” He put on a smile. “We’re all here for the same reason! The past is in the past!” 
Soon-ja appeared by Halmoni’s side and she did a half bow toward Appa, then greeted him in Korean. “It’s good to see you, Mu-yeol-ssi,” she said, smiling politely. Then she looked back at Nemo and grinned. “Nam-minnie! You were even better than the videos!” 
Ah, thank the seasons for his aunt. Maybe between Nemo and Soon-ja they could keep this from turning into anything dramatic. 
 KYUNG-OK: 
 Kyung-ok had been worried that her youngest daughter, who has always liked her sister’s partner, would be too kind to him. But it seemed she wasn’t leaping at him shouting ‘oppa!’ which had to mean Soon-ja saw him for what he really was. 
A coward. A pitiful excuse for a fairy. A parasite that didn’t deserve their late daughter’s memory let alone deserved her in life. 
“Why ever would you be upset that Nam-min got to know his magic line?” Kyung-ok cooed, syrupy sweet, in Daegu-dialect Korean. 
“Yes, Bae-ssi,” Young-chul added, casually insulting Mu-yeol. Would Nam-min know that little quirks of Korean culture? “We only wanted to see our grandson dance.”
“Nam-minnie, flower—” Kyung-ok began, reaching for Nemo’s hand specifically to make Mu-yeol look crazy when he instinctively gripped his son’s shoulder. She had to bite back her devilish grin and force herself to frown. “See? I told you there was no way we can be a happy family.”
 MARLIN:
 Aiya, she was really doing this, wasn’t she?
“And whose fault was that really?” Mu-yeol said evenly, slipping into his satoori in kind. “Before my son was even born you took every opportunity to-”
No, not here. Not in front of Nemo and certainly not in front of all of his dance teachers. 
“There was a good reason she wanted to raise him in Seoul.” Away from you, he didn’t need to add. It was implied. 
And that was true. So-yeon did not want her parents to be just a quick bus ride across the city away. She wanted some distance between her and them, a buffer of kilometers between them and Nam-min and his small wing. No...not a total exclusion from his life, but enough space so that she had control over how much they saw him. 
If they can’t drop all this talk about his wing, then...then I don’t need them! She once shouted, trying her hardest to sound and look determined, and not terrified of the prospect of actually cutting out her parents entirely. 
But that’s exactly why So-yeon absolutely would have done it to protect her son if it came down to it. She always jumped headfirst into things that scared her. 
They’d already pushed her far enough away by insulting her choice in a partner. Her parents were always on thin ice with her.
“I’ll...walk to Sindri’s with you Nam-min. Let’s go.”
   NEMO
Appa gripped his shoulder. Halmoni reached for his hand. 
Nemo was literally caught in the middle between the Songs and the Baes and it hadn’t even been a proper flutter-length! 
He sucked in a breath as the Korean started to shoot rapid-fire, Appa speaking the way he spoke to his siblings on the phone--which was always hard for Nemo to grasp everything. If he said something truly rude then, Nemo didn’t know. Halmoni was acting like it was though. She frowned, and Nemo frowned-- and he wanted to grind his teeth and then stomp on all of their feet! 
Aiya, why say anything if they couldn’t say something nice? Just talk about him! He was right here! Compliment his dance or something!
His feet remained solidly stuck to the ground, even as Appa squeezed his shoulder tighter and urged him to leave. 
“No,” he said. He glanced from Appa to his grandparents and back. “We were going to go to dinner after my recital. This is the first one they’ve ever seen,” he spoke as firmly as his feet were planted. It was only fair his grandparents got to celebrate with him. They’d missed every recital before--every birthday, every Chuseok, everything. 
“You can come, Appa, but you all have to be nice to each other.” 
 KYUNG-OK:
She smiled at Mu-yeol, venom behind it as she held Nam-min’s hand. His eyes darted to Soon-ja like he was begging her to help him but Soon-ja was only looking at Nemo. 
How poetic that Mu-yeol’s only ally here was turning his back on him. 
Wise choice, child. She thought. He was a Song, not a Bae after all. 
“She’s incapable of that.” Mu-yeol muttered, letting go of Nam-min’s shoulder. “I respect my son too much to get into an argument here.”
He stepped back even as his eyes read pure terror. 
 NEMO
Appa stepped away.
Nemo tried not to be disappointed, but his heart dropped anyway. His hand in Halmoni’s loosened as he gazed after his abeoji, biting down on his lip. Actually, it was more than just disappointment--
Nemo’s chest got tight. That tiny guilty voice whispered, see? He does think you betrayed him.
“Appa,” he said softly again. He took a step away from Halmoni. He knew it was probably pointless-- it was always pointless with Appa, no matter how much Nemo tried to reason, no matter if he was kind and quiet or loud and aggressive. Whenever Appa made up his mind, he was rock-stubborn. Kinda like Nemo too--
 Still, it was a habit to try to reason with him and that habit kicked in now. “C’mon. I want you there too. I want all of you there, you’re all my family. Please, just...just try. For me.” 
 MARLIN:
“Nam-min…” Mu-yeol said, speaking English intentionally so only his son and Soon-ja could understand. He took another step back. “I’m respecting your boundaries, limits, and agency by letting you alone to stay with Sindri, and not playing tug of war with you right now. Respect mine. I will not— I can’t. You don’t understand what -”
He cleared his throat and glared at Kyung-ok. His son would learn soon enough what a monster she was. 
“I should have skipped this one, I knew I had a bad feeling for a reason.” He muttered under his breath, before nodding to Nemo. “Goodbye.”
He was even going to ask Nemo if he wanted to come to dinner tomorrow night...now? Who’s to say he wouldn’t bring the Songs?
He’d never felt so small before. 
 NEMO
I should have skipped this one, I knew I had a bad feeling for a reason.
More than anything, these words hurt-- a gut-punch that had Nemo’s breath caught in his throat. You mean...you weren’t going to come? Nemo thought, but couldn’t say out loud. He knew if he did, he’d instantly start crying.
Because it was his fault.
Of course Appa was thinking about not coming. Despite Nemo inviting him, he still hadn’t returned home. So much was still broken. Nemo thought the gap between him and Appa was healing, even if it healed slowly, but apparently the distance was too far. 
 He thinks you’ve abandoned him. Why would he come watch you dance?
You’re so selfish, Nemo. 
You’ve hurt him too much.
Nemo swallowed twice and he crossed his arms over his chest, glancing away from Appa. Well--he couldn’t force Appa to give his relatives a chance, nor could he blame him, considering...everything. Halmoni warned him. Nemo had asked for this. He should have just called Appa and told him about his grandparents earlier, when Soon-ja first called him! Then Appa would know why Nemo did this and…
Nevermind. 
“Okay,” Nemo said. He stepped back toward Halmoni. “Um...I guess…”
 I’ll call. I’ll text. I’ll see you.You’ll come with more gimbap, right? 
“Fly safe, Appa,” he said. 
1 note · View note
devinclaire · 4 years
Text
Daily Horoscopes For April 22nd (Taurus New Moon Edition)🌚
Luna looked out to the night sky from the doorstep of her shop. The saturated sunset slowly mixed into the inky night. Stars began to appear as if there was someone on the other side of the night sky poking holes to let bursts of light through.
She nodded in knowing, stepped out of store, and locked up. It was time for the New Moon ceremony.
Once outside, she clutched her bag tightly and moved to the back lot behind the shop. Luckily, there were no buildings behind her place, only desert sand and a few spiky plants that knew how to survive the hot days and the cold nights.
Out of her bag she took three large crystals. Pieces that she’d found on her strolls through the desert. She also retrieved a prayer candle, dressed for the occasion, and matches. She lit the candle and pushed it into the sand until it was steady.
The sunset colors had bleed away leaving only stars. Living in a dark sky community, there were no lights hindering the view. In Luna’s town it wasn’t just the main constellations you learn about as a kid in the sky. This was a true sea of stars, going as far back as the eye could see.
If you stared for too long, you began to feel small and meaningless. If you dared to keep staring, you suddenly felt connected to the majestic narrative that enveloped planet Earth and all its woes.
Luna closed her eyes, and let cognitive thought drop from her mind. She only picked up on the energies of five souls who were very important to her, and getting closer by the second.
She felt each one of her friends drop in like the shooting stars crackling across the sky. Their astral projections shot in, but stopped right before they hit the sand, simply hovering above the ground.
Luna opened her eyes as she felt their presence.
“Hello all,” she said to her friends.
There were giggles as everyone looked around at each other. Their plan had worked.
Luna grinned.
“I want to welcome you all here tonight to this meeting of the New Moon Society. We couldn’t meet in person as we sometimes do, so instead, I appreciate you all astral projecting so we can still have our ceremony,” she said.
More grins and giggles from the group.
She placed her hands on her knees.
“Let’s begin with a meditation. Celeste, will you lead us?” she said.
The Reiki master of the group, Celeste, led the group in an exercise where they imagined spheres of abundance expanding around each of them. Next, each envisioned a beam of pink light coming through their heads and down through their root chakras. The vibration was so high, each opened their eyes, amazed to see that they were surrounded by a sparkly haloed auras, and an actual beam of pink light.
Star, the group’s astrologer, explained where the New Moon was happening in everyone’s chart, and thus which area of their lives to help them focus their New Moon intentions for the ritual.
Luna then drew Tarot cards for everyone to give each member guidance on how the Universe was supporting them in receiving their intentions.
She pulled singing bowls from her bag, and played them between the crystals.
When it was over, she looked up at her friends.
“We leave each other tonight with full hearts. I miss you all so much, but I know we’ll be together in our bodies again,” she said.
The friends all nodded.
“Until then, we can continue to astral project!” said Opal, the herbalist. Everyone laughed, before waving good-bye as their souls disappeared into the night, back to their bodies to get cozy in bed.
***
Aries
This is a New Moon that’s about abundance. Feeling a little lacking in prosperity at this time? Consider saying, “Yes” the next time you’re offered the opportunity to do some exercises around abundance. Set an intention about what type of richness you’d like in your life. Health, wealth, time?
Taurus
Make a wish! This is your birthday New Moon. As you look around at your current reality think about what has been simplified for the better, and in contrast, what has lost its lushness for the worse. The energy is strong for setting an intention for what you want to see as your reality in your unfolding future.
Gemini
In many ways it’s alright if you can’t go outside, the energy of this New Moon is about your dream world and its development. If you can, take a moment from your day to close your eyes and let your imagination wander into a lush garden. There may be golden fruit and mythical creatures, it’s your call. Anything that lets your shoulders relax and your breath steady.
Cancer
Imagine your feet planted firmly on the ground, standing in a beautiful desert oasis at night. Look up and see a Moonless sky littered with stars. Make a wish. It may seem like a small act, but when you put your yearning behind it, it sets an intention that reverberates through the Universe.
Leo
This is a New Moon about destiny and career for you. As you’ve witnessed your job change in the last month(s), new ideas about how you’d like your career to proceed may be rising up.
Virgo
Under this New Moon you’re embarking on a quest toward beauty and justice. Don’t be surprised if this journey begins between the pages of a book you’ve been meaning to read.
Libra
With this New Moon energy, don’t be ashamed if you’re yearning to get closer to a certain someone behind closed doors, with some sexy music, chocolate covered strawberries, and champagne. Whether you’re doing this with your quarantine cutie, or your Zoom zaddy, what matters is that your souls connect.
Scorpio
Make the call to commit to yourself first and foremost with this New Moon energy. Ease into the lushness of the mood, even if it feels a little uncomfortable yet, cozy and familiar all at the same time. Love is also in the air.
Sagittarius
This New Moon energy allows you to take the reflections you’ve had about your post-COVID life and integrate them into your everyday existence. Even when things are incredibly difficult, Taurus energy wants to provide a lush moss pillow for you to place your head.
Capricorn
This New Moon, set an intention about where you’d like to be more joyful in your life. Specifically, state that you’d like to be directed to where you’ll feel the most abundant creatively, or into the (virtual, or astral projected) arms of a passionate new love affair.
Aquarius
It’s important to grow here you’re planted, but are you pleased with the dirt where you’re growing? Use this energy to add some fertilizer, or get completely uprooted to be replanted somewhere that feels like home.
Pisces
Under this New Moon it’s time to say what’s really on your mind. It has staying power that will make lasting change. This is also a time to put out your writing for positive results.
3 notes · View notes
jawnjendes · 5 years
Text
shawn meets... | bella
SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm. (AU, shawn x every one of my oc’s)
AN: hiiii this is somewhat of a continuation of my last series, goth gf. you dont HAVE to read it to know what's happening here, but there will be references to it every so often. if you've been here since the goth gf days then, hi. i appreciate you. enjoy this shit. let me know ur thots.
****let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
bella's origin story | bella's playlist | masterlist
It felt awfully strange to be in Annalise's hometown, knowing she wouldn't be going home right away. The residential part of North Hollywood where her parents lived still felt like it was a million miles away. The glamorous Lyft Lux was going through the equally glamorous parts of the city, and it was almost mundane despite the fact that she had been away for over a year.
Shawn and his younger sister, Aaliyah, were frequently pointing out the exciting things they had only seen in photos and movies: the Chinese Theater, the Walk of Fame, the Hollywood sign. They were bundles of energy and excitement. Annalise was only jittery because she never fully processed that she lives in the same city as her favorite YouTuber, Bella Santiago.
Over a month ago, Bella discovered the Shawn Mendes profile on Spotify, causing her to give him a shoutout on Twitter. Then, just after the release of his newest EP, In My Blood, Bella messaged Shawn, offering to fly him out to LA, put him in a hotel and make a video with her. Shawn immediately jumped at the chance, but he couldn't go without bringing two of the biggest Bella stans he knew, Annalise and Aaliyah. The only reason why it took until the New Year for this to happen was simple: exams and Christmas.
When the semester ended, Annalise spent the holidays and her 22nd birthday with Shawn's family in Pickering, much to her own family's disdain. It was different, celebrating Christmas on the morning of the 25th, rather than the 24th. It was also different not eating tamales or pozole like she did with her family. It totally wasn't annoying when Shawn blasted that god awful Taylor Swift song on the morning of Annalise's birthday. She totally didn't miss her family either.
She had to promise her parents that she would stay in LA for the duration of the holiday break in return for missing all the important holidays. It wasn't a hard decision to make, but it was going to be hard letting Shawn go. Annalise only hoped that there would be time for him to meet her extended family during this trip. From what she understood, as soon as Bella was done with him, Shawn and Aaliyah were getting on a plane straight back to Toronto.
As it turns out, Bella Santiago is insanely generous. She reserved the three of them a deluxe suite at the Marriott. They had a view of the city, a massive king size bed, and a pull out sofa bed. Everything was spotless, and luxurious.
"She didn't have to go this hard," Aaliyah pointed out as she tossed her suitcase to the side.
"What, would you rather sleep on the floor?" Shawn teased. "And pick that up and move it so it's out of the way!"
She rolled her eyes as she did what he said.
Annalise made herself comfortable on top of the white sheets. While all of this was exciting, she was fucking exhausted. It felt like it was much later in the day, having gotten up at seven. The time change made it feel like it was well in the afternoon, but it was barely eleven.
"How's your tummy?" Shawn asked from the window. He had his phone out and was taking photos of the view.
"Much better," she replied.
Against her better judgment, Annalise had a coffee during the five hour flight, and it did not agree with her. She made good friends with a barf bag… or three. All the caffeine must have left her system if she was feeling better now.
"What time do we meet Bella?" asked Aaliyah, padding over to stand by her brother.
"Three o'clock," Shawn replied. "In the ballroom downstairs."
That prompted all three of them to take a death nap for the time being. It only lasted about three hours, and when their alarms went off, none of them felt any more rested.
Annalise was the first one to actually get up and get ready. For once, she was intimidated by who she was going to be standing in front of today. She had to look her best, even if it was in all black.
It didn't take long for Aaliyah to follow suit. Soon enough, both girls were sitting in front of the window, using the California sun for their light as they did their makeup.
The funny thing is, as much as they cared about looking their best, neither of them were going to be in Bella's video. She only wanted Shawn, who was still lying in bed half an hour before the scheduled meet up.
"What are you gonna wear?" Annalise asked her boyfriend.
"I don't know," he replied, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Will she even care about what I'm wearing?"
"You're gonna be on her channel," Aaliyah said, looking up from her handheld mirror, "which has millions of viewers, including some of my friends who will never let me hear the end of it if they see my brother looking like a clown in front of the queen!"
Shawn grinned and got up. "I'll go like this, what do you think?" He held his arms out, showcasing his plaid pajama bottoms and a Nike hoodie. He also only had one sock on.
"You'll be dead before you step out of the room like that," Ann darkly added.
“Thanks Satan.” He chuckled.
Shawn was only pretending to be calm. Inside, he was shaking and his insides were heavy. He didn't even think about Bella's subscriber count until Aaliyah pointed it out. He really wanted Bella to like him too. She seemed like such a sweetheart from her videos, Shawn hoped that wasn't just a persona.
He had spent most of the flight watching her videos (when Ann wasn’t puking up her caffeine, of course.) He made it through a few tutorials, learning a lot about not only makeup, but Bella herself. She suffers from several anxiety disorders and constantly works to better herself. She left her parents when she came out to them as bisexual, and she hasn't spoke to them or her extended family in years. She recently got out of a relationship with another YouTuber named Ethan Nestor, which was part of the reason why she spent half of 2019 in her hometown of Palm Springs. This woman has some thick skin, there was no denying that.
One of the best things that Shawn learned about Bella was that she had a butterfly tattoo on her left arm. In another video, she talked about how her viewers drew butterflies on their arms in support of her when she was down. She got it tattooed for them, and the colors of the wings were the same as the bisexual pride flag. Shawn looked at his own butterfly tattoo differently now.
The other best thing he learned was how talented of a singer Bella was. She had covers on her channel, and Shawn watched every single one. Bella had such a rich, beautiful voice, and it looked so easy for her to hit any high note. She sang Love on the Brain without any strain on her face. She sang a gayer version of You Belong with Me, and played guitar with it. She sang with Markiplier as the opening act when they were on a comedy show tour in 2018.
Shawn couldn't wait to sing with her, though he was intimidated. He thought he was a good singer, but put him next to someone with Ariana Grande levels of talent? The nerves were never ending.
It was ten til three when everyone was ready. Their only predicament was to go down to the ballroom early or not.
“Did she text you?” Aaliyah asked, clearly antsy. “Is she on her way or anything?”
Shawn shook his head. He had changed into a white tee, black jeans and a denim jacket, which the two girls approved of. “Should I message her? Or… her manager? She’s the one who made all these arrangements.”
“Hey, she might not even be here on time,” Ann said. “YouTubers are like celebrities. They run on their own schedules just because they can.”
“Bella wouldn’t do that, would she?” Aaliyah said in disbelief.
“Only one way to find out.”
And to the ballroom they went. The space was huge, clearly meant for a party. There were sheer white curtains hanging from the huge windows, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the far corner of the room, tables and chairs were folded and leaning against the wall. Shawn, Aaliyah, and Ann looked around the room, all silently nervous and excited. Only a few minutes into it, they heard female voices just outside the room.
“But we’re always early! I knew I should have driven myself!”
“It’s two fifty-nine! Relax, they’re probably not even here yet!”
“Huh, I’ll be damned,” Ann mumbled, looking at her phone to verify the time.
The owners of the other two voices entered the room, carrying expensive-looking camera equipment and studio lights. They were followed by a bellhop, who was carrying a keyboard in a case. One woman was short and curvy, brown and freckled. Her short black hair was curly and glossed down, and she was wearing a bright red pantsuit.
The other woman was long and lean, decked out in a white long sleeve crop top, a black skirt, and knee high boots. Her iconic bright pink hair made a comeback, that wasn’t in her latest video. Her kind face looked airbrushed and flawless, although her brown eyes looked alarmed, like she was caught in headlights.
The first person to break the silence was the woman in red, already establishing her power. “Hello!” She held her hand out to Shawn. “I’m Sonji, I’m Bella’s manager. I believe we spoke on the phone. And on Twitter.”
“Yeah, yeah we did,” he said as they shook hands. “Uh, this Aaliyah and Ann, my sister and my girlfriend.”
“Hi, ladies!” Sonji greeted, shaking their hands as well. “So lovely to meet you! God, you’re all so pretty!”
Both girls mumbled shy thank you’s.
“Okay, so my handsome friend here and myself are going to set things up for the video,” Sonji explained. “In the meantime-” She looked at her silent client. “-Baller, come talk to your little protégé.”
Then, Sonji led the bellhop further into the room, over by the windows.
Bella still had a bag slung over her shoulder and a massive studio light stand in her hands. She was clutching it to her chest, a very performative and awkward smile etched on her bright pink lips.
“Hi!” she said after one very long second. “Uh - lemme -” She set down the giant lights and removed the bag from her shoulder. Then she stood up straight and smoothed out her hair. “Hi! Uh, I said that already!”
“I’ll say it again! Hi!” Shawn greeted, smiling politely.
Bella looked at him and opened her arms for a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you!”
It might be weird to put it this way, but she smelled pretty. Whatever perfume she was wearing was probably more expensive than the flight over here. Shawn hugged her around her shoulders, inadvertently touching her surprisingly soft hair. You could just tell that she didn’t spare a single penny when it came to caring for herself.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to be so tall!” she said, looking up at Shawn. “For once, I’m not the tallest person in the room!”
She couldn’t have been taller than Ann, who was five foot five inches and felt very short most of the time.
“And this is the sister and the girlfriend?” Bella said, turning to the other two girls. She went to hug Aaliyah, who was more than delighted by the gesture.
Bella leaned back and took her hand. “I love your nails! Love the shape and color!” She ran her thumb over the white acrylics. “So cute!”
“Aw, thank you!” Aaliyah was beaming.
Then, Bella turned to hug Ann. It’s important to point out that in most situations, Annalise Flores is stone faced, calm, and collected. Today, however, Ann had wide eyes, like she was face the good Lord herself… like she was going to drop down on one knee and propose to Bella.
Shawn wouldn’t blame her.
“Me encanta su delineador!” Bella told her, gently cupping her face.
“En serio?” Ann softly asked.
“Yes, que linda! Those inner wings are to die for! What do you use?”
“Um.. uh, I think it’s NYX? I don’t know the exact one, but it’s definitely NYX!” Ann chuckled nervously.
“Well, it looks amazing!”
Ann looked like she was going to faint with that euphoric dazed look on her face. Thankfully, she stayed on both feet because Sonji grabbed their attention. She managed to sneak by Bella, take the lights and bag, and set them all up by the window. She also set up the keyboard, camera and two chairs. There were three other chairs behind the camera as well. Sonji was incredibly fast.
“We are all ready to go!” she said to the others.
“Shall we?” Bella gestured for the other three to go first.
Shawn, Ann, and Aaliyah went over to the set up, excitement only increasing from here.
"Were you two going to be in the video too?" Sonji asked the two girls.
They both shook their heads.
"Nervous? Don't blame you, the Internet is brutal."
That didn't help Shawn's bundle of nerves. He took a silent deep breath as he went for his guitar case while Bella sat in front of her keyboard. The Internet is brutal, and Shawn's own minuscule corner of it was safe solely because of the size. The fans he tweeted every so often were seemingly normal, and no one was overly critical about him or his music. More exposure means more space for criticism and plain old hate.
Bella had over five million subscribers, and at least forty thousand of them took an interest in Shawn over the last month and a half. It was a lot of new people to make a good impression to. He took another deep breath and removed the guitar from its case. There's no going back now.
"So, I don't want this to be a structured, planned out video," Bella explained when Shawn took the empty chair next to her. "I just want us to talk so my viewers can get to know you, and we'll sing whatever comes to mind."
"Sounds good," Shawn said, not really hearing himself.
"Now everybody - and I mean everybody - take in a deep breath."
The room was silent except for the sounds of everyone inhaling through their noses. Aaliyah and Ann still looked excited as they followed Bella's instruction. Sonji followed as well, like she had done this a thousand times.
"And exhale," Bella breathed out, and the others repeated. "Good. Get those nerves out, breathe away the anxiety. This is fun, we're having fun."
Shawn felt a little better, knowing she was just as nervous, if not more. Throughout all of Bella's mental health videos that he watched on the plane, none of them seemed to touch on how severe her own case was.
Finally, Bella addressed the camera, her soft voice suddenly projected. "Hey, it's Bella! Welcome back to my channel! Today, I'm here with a very special guest! Some of you saw me tweet a while ago…"
Oh god, what the fuck was Shawn going to say? He looked over at Ann, who smiled reassuringly and silently did the motions for deep breathing. Stay calm. You're a strong guy.
"So how long have you been making music?" Bella asked him as she mindlessly pressed keys on her keyboard.
Shawn recalled as best he could. "Uh, I sang covers when I was fifteen. Didn't make my own music until a few years later."
"Nice! Are you in school, or work or something?"
"Yeah, I'm in college. I'm majoring in music and botany."
"Oh, you like plants?"
Shawn was mildly impressed. Most people had to ask what botany is, and he would have to explain for the thousandth time. Then, he would be told to drop the music major because it's easier to find a job in plant science.
"Flowers," he clarified. "I work in a flower shop."
"That's so cool!"
The conversation got easier as time went on. Sometimes Aaliyah or Ann would chime in if they felt that Shawn was getting too confident. Bella giggled every so often, which made everyone in the room adore her even more.
Shawn was about ready to propose when Bella started playing Mercy on her keyboard and humming the beginning. He stared at her in shock for a few seconds before he played along on guitar. Hopefully that didn't look too embarrassing on camera. He listened to her voice for a moment before singing with her in the chorus.
He had plenty of questions for Bella after they went through that song. "Where did you get a voice like that?"
"I could carry a tune as a kid," she explained, "so I was put into singing classes to hone it. Then I did church choir, school choir… I just never really stopped singing." She paused and then chuckled nervously. "This is gonna sound pretentious, but I think I got this voice for a reason. Meaning, I have this platform and all these followers. I think I'm meant to use my voice for good. Help people in whatever way I can."
Shawn smiled. "That's beautiful. I see that in your videos. I kinda went on a binge on the plane."
Bella grinned.
"One thing that stood out to me…" Shawn hesitated, minding the camera and the future viewers of this video. "You are so unapologetically bisexual. You always make the point to the person you needed as a kid, because there is still so little bi representation in the media. And you decided, if no one's going to do it, then you'll do it yourself, and I think that's incredible."
"Yeah, I didn't have anyone telling me it's okay to feel what I feel, and I don't want anyone to go through what I went through as a teen."
Shawn nodded, glancing over at Ann once. He had talked about touching on this particular topic with her, and he was starting to have his own shred of doubt.
But, he learned from his girlfriend. Fuck it.
"I wish I had someone like you as a teenager," he said to Bella, strumming his guitar. "I mean, when I came out to my family, I was lucky. They were loving and accepting, but I still couldn't find anyone out there who was like me, in real life or in the media. I really wish I had found your videos sooner."
Bella was beaming. "I knew I liked you."
The two of them went back and forth between talking and singing. They compared butterfly tattoos, and then Bella was asking him about his other tats. Shawn learned a couple of Little Mix songs too, which led him to discover where his girlfriend got that fixation from. He was mostly amazed at how Bella was able to belt out song after song like it was nothing. Like she was meant for this. Why did she choose to be a makeup artist?
"Have you ever been offered a record deal?" Shawn asked. "Or thought about making your own music?"
"Mm, yes and yes," she said. "But singing is more of a hobby. I can't see myself delving into the music industry at all. Makeup is where it's at for me. Makeup got me through some of the hardest times in my life."
Shawn wouldn't say no to a record deal. He'd move to Los Angeles tomorrow if he could. He would do just about anything to play music full time. He glanced over at Ann again, who winked with a smile.
next chapter
_______
taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @justordinaryjen @chillingbythesea @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsunflower @someoneunimportantxx
35 notes · View notes
chimmy-joos · 6 years
Text
Do It For You |M|
Tumblr media
Description: Jimin has a special birthday party planned all for you, but he finds you having more fun than he’s allowed.
Word Count: 5.2K
Tags: smut, degradation, spanking, exhibitionism, dirty-talking, Dom!Jimin, Daddy!Jimin, organs denial, praise kink, impregnation kink, and of course some fluff
A/N: This was requested by the lovely @mydarlingmochi Together everyone, Happy Birthday Ari! I hope you enjoy this piece I wrote in thoughts of you and I hope you have an amazing 22nd birthday! Sending love! The song btw is Serendipity of course
-
You swipe of blood red lipstick over your bottom lip and nudging into the corners of your cupids bow and rub your lips together to spread the color all over. You tilt you head sideways, examining your curled eyelashes darkened with black mascara, accentuating your eye color. There is the slight shimmer of glitter eyeshadow over your lid that catches the light from every angle. You bat your lashes at yourself a few more times in complete disbelief as to how you achieved this look in such little time.
You stood, pushing back your cushioned stool from your white wooden vanity with rounded mirrors that captured your look from three different sides. You twist your body and watch as your curled hair falls against your exposed back; the cream-colored sequin dress you sported hugged your body. It was a perfect fit and you showed just enough cleavage and legs so you could accessorize with matching a dazzling diamond necklace and tall, silver pumps.
Your eyes dart to a small, packaged present sitting on your vanity, a gift your boyfriend Jimin left for you before heading to work this morning. He promised he wouldn’t stay long and that he’d make to dinner tonight, but with his status and how rarely he was home, you doubt he’d make it, even if tonight was your birthday. Well, at least he remembered to give you a present. You pulled the shiny red ribbon, unwrapping the box. You set the ribbon on your vanity and opened the box; the sparkle of the present almost blinded you.
Inside the box was a silver watch, nothing too grand, but from the diamond embellishments in place of the hours and the ice blue dial the price was self-evident. You slip the watch through your hand and snap the bracelet in place, twirling your wrist in place as you stare in awe at the expensive watch.
Then, your phone chimed and you pick it up, beaming at the sight of Jimin’s name that appeared on the screen.
[10:16 PM] Babe: come outside baby
You almost squeal in excitement and quickly shut down your makeup station, grabbing your purse and running downstairs, your heels clacking on the wooden stairs and echoed throughout the empty house. It was only you and Jimin living in this lavish house, besides your cleaning lady, Letty that stopped by every so often to do her job. Other than Letty giving you her company and Jimin gone at work for hours on end, you were alone. Well, not tonight. Tonight, was for you and you weren’t going to let Jimin out of your sight.
You rush outside to the wide, concrete driveway to see Jimin leaning against his sleek, black car. Once he heard your heels on the pavement, he picked his eyes up from his phone only to have you run into his chest and twirl around. Your bubbly laughter rang in his ear and he held your waist securely with his hands.
“Jimin!” You exclaimed and he set your feet on the ground. It feels like you haven’t seen his angelic smile in forever. Jimin’s sandy hair was styled in a messy way, though you didn’t remember him leaving the house like that this morning. You stroke his tailored black suit and gaze up at him with glittering eyes. “How was work?”
“Work is always the same. How is my princess feeling?” He pulls your face in for a kiss and pulls away to find his lips tinted red. You giggled.
“I’m on top of the world.” You said and link around his arm. “So where are you taking me tonight?” You ask and Jimin averts his eyes with a smirk.
“You’ll just have to see when we get there.” He leans down and gives you another kiss, licking off the tint on his lips and grasps your hand gently, leading you around the car and escorting you into the passenger seat of the leather-furnished interior. He closes the door and you’re surrounded by darkness, save the glow of the audio system that illuminated the inside of the car like the large screen of a movie. Jimin entered through the driver’s side and strapped himself in, giving you a side glance as he rest his hand on the gear shift.
“Are you ready?”
“I can’t wait.”
You should’ve known better than expecting to figure out where Jimin was taking you by looking out the window, but the tinted glass obscured your view. Damn luxury cars. Though, you did have a wide windshield to see from, but Jimin had driven to a part of the city that you weren’t familiar with. Eventually, the car stopped in front of a tall building surrounded in glass armor. You wait for Jimin to step out of the car and escort you out of the car so you could get a better look at where he had taken you.
Jimin gives the keys to his car to a valet parking attendant and turned back to you, holding you by the hand as he led you inside the building. You didn’t see much of the interior as Jimin briskly led you to the nearest elevator, taking you to the fifth floor. In the elevator, you finally had the chance to ask him.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a hotel, one of the ones I frequent. The owner and I are good friends, actually.” He asked, giving your hand a squeeze. This place was entirely new to you and although it was fancy, the curiosity was biting at you. “Just trust me, princess. Tonight is going to be the night of your life.” He said just as the elevator doors opened up, leading down a long hallway lit up by small lights hidden in the ceiling, giving it a quite ominous glow. You hesitate to step out of the elevator and walk towards the shadowy end of the hall, but the warmth of Jimin’s hand and how he rubbed his thumb in the juncture of your thumb gave you courage to move forward.
As you neared the end of the hallway, you could feel the bass of loud music through your feet and vibrated throughout your body as soon as you stood in front of the large door. Jimin pushed it open and you winced at the sound being unleashed. Behind the doors was a nightclub that spanned across the the entire floor. You stood on a balcony that looked over the bustling dance floor that the strobe lights flashed like purple and white ambulance lights.
“Come, follow me.” Jimin whispered close to you so he could speak above the loud music. He led you right of the balcony and up an enclosed staircase that brought you to an elevated room that overlooked the entire floor. How big was this place?
Jimin paused in front of the door labeled with a V.I.P. gold plaque and rest his hand against the tinted glass. He gave you a soft glance and kissed your cheek. “Happy birthday, babygirl.” He said and pushed it open widely. You were bombarded with a a loud POP! and a chorus of “happy birthday!” as confetti fell from the sky in stringy ribbons caught in your hair and dress, everywhere, in fact. You grinned widely as you recognized the faces of all of your close friends whom were dressed in their best attire.
“Guys! Oh my god, what are you—“ you began before whipping to Jimin who stood at the door with a smirk. “You… You did this?”
“Of course I did.” He replied.
“But when? When did you have time to do this with work and you’re never home…” You started rambling until you felt Jimin’s touch against your cheek, raising your head to face him. He held your face tenderly and gazed into your eyes with a familiar softness and kindness. It was the same look he had when he first told you he loved you.
“Baby, I will always make time for you. There isn’t a single thing in the world that I wouldn’t do for you.” He pulled your face upward and leaving a prolonged kiss. He hovered over your lips when he drew back. “Now go have fun, baby.”
And have fun you did. You popped a bottle of champagne and drank with your friends, each of which begged you to do drinking shots with them. The room was livened up by everyone taking turns drunkenly singing songs. It was chaos fighting for the microphone, but hilarious to watch and listen to your friends singing. You were worried about whether or not Jimin was enjoying himself, but he sat at the other side of the room speaking to his own friends that he invited. You were relieved and thought to yourself, what would you do without Jimin? He did everything for you and you couldn’t thank him enough.
Jimin must’ve felt your stare and his eyes darted to you. He smirked and his devilish smile made you blush. You hid your reddened cheeks behind your glass of champagne and reverted your attention back to your friend who had been going off about how attractive all of Jimin’s friends were. It seemed if you had a lot of money, you’d appear hotter. Suddenly, you heard the clink of glass. Everyone turned to the source of the sound and you found Jimin standing with a glass in his hand. When the room settled to a hush, he lowered his glass.
“I’d like to the this moment to make a toast, dedicated to my wonderful girlfriend, Y/N.” He looks over at you when he says your name and his mouth spread into a loving smile. You can’t help your cheeks protrude at the sound of your name and Jimin continued. “Firstly, I’d like to thank everyone for taking time out of their busy schedule to make it, it means a lot. Secondly, I just want to say how grateful I am for having such an amazing woman in my life. It’s almost like the universe has brought us together and I can’t think of anyone else that could make me happier. She’s my angel, my world. Which is why I have a song prepared for this special occasion,” Jimin said and turned to the karaoke machine and one of his friends tossed him the microphone. He turned it on and cleared his throat, flashing one last look at you. “Happy birthday, my love.”
A soft and sweet melody began to play and Jimin took over with his melodic and entrancing voice that dripped like honey. The entire room had fallen in love with his voice immediately and you were just as hypnotized by the way Jimin sang while staring directly at you while, dedicating every word in honor of you. Everything seemed like a dream; this small party, Jimin serenading you with his own song, everything was perfect.
The song came to an end too quickly and the room erupted in a roar of applause and cheers. Jimin calmly handed back the microphone and made his way to you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. He returned to his seat across the room and sat back in his seat as his friends spoke to him privately, most likely complimenting him for his performance. Of course they were, it was like listening to a hymn from the heavens. You wondered why he wouldn’t sit with you, but you understood that he must want this night to be spent with your friends.
“Y/N!” Your friend squealed drunkenly, pushing her entire body weight on you. “Let’s go dance!”
“Here?” You glance around the small room.
“No, silly! Out there.” She pointed out the window overlooking the night club. You could see the lights in the ceiling still flashing over the dance floor and the thought of being immersed in the heavy music allowing it to pump throughout your body tempted you. You gave Jimin a side glance to see him fully engrossed in a conversation with a man furnished in a expensive-looking suit, a friend, perhaps.
“Alright, let’s go.” You said enthusiastically and your friend took your hand and she along with a handful of your other friends fled the room, chatting excitedly. Jimin noticed the large group leaving the room and caught you in the midst of the group. He wasn’t able to stop you before the door closed shut as soon as the last person left. Your friend led you down to the heated nightclub where the music rumbled in your ears, sending the hype beat throughout your entire body. You were taken to the center of the dance floor and allowed your body to be controlled by the will of the music.
While in the midst of enjoying the music and the company of your friends that danced around you, you found yourself dancing outside of your friend circle. You didn’t mind, the only thing you cared about was making this night the best night of your life. Jimin had done so much for you and you weren’t going to let it go to waste.
You backed into someone and stumbled forward, but didn’t pay much attention to it. Besides, everyones’ bodies were grazing against each other in the heat of the dance floor. That is, until you felt a pair of strong arms pull you back, locking his grip around your waist. The man whom had grabbed you molded his body against yours and rubbed his crotch against the curve of your ass.
“Hey angel face.” He said into your ear. Your face twisted in disgust. “What, you’re gonna bump into me and not even say hello?”
“Get away of me.” You slap away his hand that was creeping up your leg.
“That’s cute. Keep talking, it’s hot as fuck.” He snickered and you had the urge to throw up everything you had consumed tonight at the sound of his vile words. He pulled your body closer to him and you never the thought the feeling of someone else’s body warmth could make you so uncomfortable. You curled your fingers into a ball and it trembled from your anger. In a swift moment, you strike your heel into his toes and launch your elbow into the man’s gut with enough force for the man to release his hands and double over in pain. You whipped around and glared down at the man, your hand still closed tightly just in case he dared try anything else.
“Don’t you know when to quit? I said to get away from me.” You snapped and stomp off the dance floor and back up the stairs to the room. As you approached the room, you saw Jimin leaning over the railing overlooking the view down below.
“Baby?” You called out to Jimin. He shifts his gaze over to you and you swore you caught a glimpse of darkness behind his eyes. “What are you doing out here?”
He didn’t answer right away and you watched him twirl the ring around his finger broodingly. “You handled that quite well.” He said as you edged into the spot next to him, placing your forearms on the railing. You gave him a puzzled look until the realization dawned on you.
“Oh no, that was—“
“I know, I saw.” Jimin cut you off and your jaw tightened at his sharp tone. Was he mad? What had you done wrong? You gave him a side glance and could see the shadow cast over his eyes that watched the people beneath him. You wanted to explain, but he had witnessed everything so what else was there to say?
“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered softly. Jimin craned his neck at you.
“For?”
“I-I don’t know… I must’ve done something wrong.” You lowered you head and somehow managed to get the words past the growing lump in your throat.
“Oh babygirl, it wasn’t you. In fact, I should shut down this unruly circus of a club because someone heathen laid his hands on you.” Jimin pulled you into his chest and you felt his hand rest on the small of your back. They traveled lower to your hips, raking over the sequins of your dress. “However,” he shifted into a warning tone. “I never gave you permission to go down there, did I now? I never said it was okay to shake your ass around with your little friends, did I?” Jimin moved his lips to your ear as he spoke in a firm voice. Your mouth gaped open as you scrambled for the words fit enough for an apology.
At your silence, Jimin struck your ass with the palm of his hand and you yelped; the pain forcing you to stand on the tip of your toes.
“Did I?”
“N-No, daddy! I’m sorry I acted wrongly. I-It won’t happen again.” You spat out quickly; your ass stung with biting pain. Jimin grabbed your ass and squeezed the area he had just struck, only making the pain worse. You whined into his chest and Jimin pressed his mouth against your ear.
“Such a good girl.” He cooed. “Now walk with me.”
You nodded and turned to walk. Jimin kept his hand on your back and led you around the corner down to a quieter hall. You walked past the room Jimin reserved and you glanced sideways at the door. Jimin pressed on your back to push you onward. Both of you were silent and the sound of your heels clacking on the floor echoed in the vacant hallway.
“Turn here.” Jimin said and you pivoted, suddenly turning into shorter hall that led to the public bathrooms. You pulled to a halt and stood still in the middle of the hallway. Jimin stood behind you, so close that you could feel his body heat against your back.
“Now listen closely. You’re going to get on your knees and suck daddy off and afterwards, I’m going to show you what happens when you act without my permission. Any questions?” Jimin asked in a cold, stern voice.
“No, sir.” You replied in a meek voice. Jimin leaned against the wall while you slowly got on your knees. Your hand traveled up Jimin’s leg, smoothing over his muscular thigh until you felt the cold metal of his belt. You glanced upward, catching Jimin’s stone eyes that watched your hand work. They were impatient, but he never spoke a word to hurry you. You unbuckled his belt; the clicking of the gold buckle and the shuffling of fabric filled the silent hallway. As you unzipped Jimin’s pants, you noticed he wasn’t hard. His semi-hard length fell sadly in your hand and your chest tightened. Was your outfit nor your makeup not good enough? Was he not enjoying himself?
“Work for it, babygirl.” Jimin spoke up, perhaps noticing how your face fell. You obeyed and started stroking his length from the base and dragging your fingers towards the tip.It took a few seconds for Jimin’s dick to get harder as blood pumped through the veins, but soon it felt heavier in your hand and when the first glisten of precum appeared at his urethra, you laid the head on your tongue and swallowed him until his cock tapped the back of your throat. Jimin let out a low grunt of pleasure.
“That’s it. Take it deeper, all the way down your throat.” He coaxed as you curled your tongue around his cock, lathering his length in your saliva. “Fuck, your mouth is always so amazing. You love sucking daddy off, don’t you, pet?” He smirked, a single eyebrow raised at his own snarky comment. You hummed and dipped your head to take him deeper down your throat. You loved the feeling of your mind fleeting as your airways were constricted, sometimes either by Jimin’s hands as he squeezed the edges of your neck or when he shoves his thick cock down your pipe.
You bobbed your head in a faster motion while keeping your lips suctioned to Jimin’s cock, keeping the warmth and moisture in your mouth. And Jimin wasn’t shy with his moans of pleasure; his breathing became rough and erratic—an attempt to hold onto his mental reins and not lose his composure.
“Look at that pretty face, sucking off daddy so nicely. Do you like being on your knees? Spreading your legs like an obedient pet, go ahead, play with yourself.” He praised, his eyes following your hands as they lifted your dress and snuck in between your legs. Your fingers grazed over the mesh of your panties; your sex was so heated and had it not been for the thin piece of fabric lining your slit you would’ve been dripping all over the floor. You put pressure on your clit and shuddered, a jolt of pleasure was sent through you. You dug your knees into the floor as you focused the weight of your body on your fingers.
“Make sure daddy feels good too.” Jimin chuckled and put a hand on the back of your head to make his cock go deeper down your throat. He thrusted right past your uvula and your throat tightened and emitted a strange squelching noise. Your body tensed and you shut your legs from the force. Jimin grunted loudly and threw his head back.
“Fuck! That’s a good girl. You wanna make daddy cum with your slutty mouth, don’t you?” You continued to rub circles over your clit while you sucked Jimin off. Saliva collected around the corners of your mouth, but you only took him deeper. Jimin’s cock slid in and out of your throat like a toy being used for pure pleasure. He didn’t give a second thought before abusing your throat.
Jimin yanked your head away and you gasped from the sudden intake of air that rushed into your lungs. You clung to Jimin’s leg with one hand while the other cupped your sex through your wet panties while you slowly regained your breath. Jimin swiped his thumb over your saliva-drenched chin and spread it over your lips. Your smeared lipstick must’ve made you look like a messy clown, but you licked your spit off Jimin’s finger obediently. His cock stood straight and hard, still twitching madly from the head you just gave him.
“You did so well, pet. Almost made daddy cum.” He smiled down at you. You lit up with your tongue still hugging Jimin’s thumb in its’ warmth. You drew outward when you were done cleaning it and kissed the soft tip while batting your eyes at Jimin. He smirked and his cock twitched. “Stand up.”
“Yes, sir.” You said and stood on your feet, smoothing down your dress around you legs when you found balance on your heels. You stood straight as Jimin left traces of his touch on your thigh and hips with his hand as he circled around you. You felt his hand hike up your dress and graze your bare ass. You pressed your lips together to hold back any moans of pleasure.
“So wet,” he spoke as he pressed a finger against your dampened panties. You arched your back at the sensation of his touch. “So ready to be fucked. Tell me baby, do you like being touched like this? To be teased to the point where you’ll cum from having your clit played with?” He asked and suddenly focused his touch on your swollen clit. A low moan rumbled in your throat.
“Yes daddy, it feels so good.” You moaned into the wall. Jimin played with your clit, swirling it around in small circles. He watched with hungry eyes as you stuck your ass out for him, so wide and shaped like a perfect peach tied up in expensive lace. Jimin smacked one of your ass cheeks and sneered when a gasp interrupted your symphony of moans. He felt you clench above his fingers.
You were so needy; disobedient, dirty and a bad, bad girl, but always willing to give yourself up to pleasure Jimin no matter how badly he roughened you up.
“Do you want daddy’s cock? Hm?” Jimin palmed the other cheek and it rang loudly. You knees buckled and you scratched the wall with your fingernails. Jimin, without the slightest hesitation, tore your lace panties apart and let the fabric pool at your feet leaving you bare and vulnerable to the cold air that whooshed underneath you.
“I want you to apologize,” he said while sliding the head in between your wet folds, gathering your slimy juices. “Then I want you to beg for it. Now.”
“I-I’m sorry I did something without your permission. I regret go-going down and dancing with people I don’t know. I will do better, daddy...” you said as Jimin continued to slide his thick shaft between your folds, teasing you in such torturous way and you knew he wouldn’t send you into the blissful state of pleasure until you did what he ordered. “So I beg you, daddy, please punish me for being a bad girl. I promise it won’t happen again if you fuck me with your thick cock. Please?” You threw a look behind your shoulder, eyes glittering with the innocence of the so-called “good girl” you were supposed to be.
“Hmm...” Jimin pondered. He lined up his cock at your hole and prodded at the entrance. You chewed on your lower lip hungrily. “Good enough. You can have your reward, babygirl.” He said and began unbuttoning his dress shirt, loosening his collar as you slid onto his cock, nice and slowly. You let him stretch you out and allowed your hot, sticky walls to hug his cock. You sucked him all the way to the base and swirled your ass around, the head of his cock tickling your cervix. You purred and grinded your ass into him.
“Oh, yes! I love your cock daddy!” You cried out in pleasure. Jimin’s eyes were fixated on your pussy that swallowed his cock that glistened with your juices.
“That’s it, babygirl. Ride daddy’s cock like a good girl.” He hissed and traced his palm over his chest. He stood with his legs apart and balanced himself well while you slammed your ass against his pelvis. You clawed at the wall, pleasure spreading throughout your body like a wildfire; as if with every thrust your lower region were lit aflame like steel wool. Your moans spilled out shamelessly and you couldn’t care less if someone walked in on you wildly fucking. The desire to cum was strong and you didn’t want to stop.
Jimin grabbed a chunk of your hair and yanked it back, digging deep into you. You gasped and tightened around his cock instinctively.
“You’re getting a little too loud, pet. If you’re going to squeal like a slut, why don’t I send your ass back onto the dance floor?” Jimin snarled, pulling your hair back and forcing you to arch your back until his words tickled your ear. He swirled his hips and a moan quivered out of your mouth.
“I’m sorry—aah!” Jimin thrusted into you, his tight balls slapping against your clit. He yanked your hair back, gripping it messily in his hands. You craned you neck backwards and whimpered desperately as Jimin fucked you with a selfish need to cum, in you or on you, it didn’t matter to him.
“God damn, your pussy is so warm and tight—nice little cunt.” Jimin growled behind you. He fucked you madly, scraping your deepest parts that felt electrifying with every rapid thrust. Your mind went blank from pleasure and you were on the verge of climaxing.
Jimin yanked your hair back and exhaled a loud grunt. “Fffuck, I’m gonna get you fuckin’ pregnant. You want daddy’s kids? Hm?” He swirled his hips and your breath hitched; nails chipping at the wall as you clawed it.
“Yes! Fuck yes, cum in me! Please daddy!” You squealed—at this point bystanders weren’t existent—it was just you and him.
Jimin slammed his hips into you and forced you to arch your back by opposing the pull of our hair and the force of his hips. You felt his warm seed fill you up, a tight, warm sensation swirled in your stomach. You cried out in pleasure, clenching around Jimin to squeeze every last bit of cum out of his throbbing cock.
Though the pleasure didn’t last for long. Jimin pulled out of you and let his cum drop out of you. He suddenly slapped your ass and you clenched in surprise.
“Don’t spill my cum. I thought you wanted to have my babies.” Jimin sneered with a devilish smirk. You nodded obediently and kept your sex tightened so Jimin’s cum didn’t leak out. You didn’t even have panties as extra protection as it laid on the floor in a sad pool of black lace.
You heard the clink of metal and your eyes darted to Jimin to see him with his pants already on and fastening his belt around them. You gawked.
“Ji—daddy? Don’t I get to cum?” You asked in a meek voice. Jimin shot you a hard, dirty look.
“Do you think you deserve to cum?”
You didn’t answer, afraid that it was rhetorical.
“It may be your birthday, but a birthday girl doesn’t get anything if she’s been bad. I’ve fucked you, isn’t that enough for you?” Jimin asked and before you could protest, he snapped his fingers. “Lets go, I can’t stand in this dirty club anymore.” He ordered and you hastily pulled down your dress over your bare ass and followed Jimin. He rest his hand on your lower back as he led you back to the room to retrieve your belongings and then to the elevators that had taken you here. As you stood waiting for the elevators to arrive, you glanced sideways at Jimin who stoically kept his gaze on the shiny elevator doors. His side profile was so captivating you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to linger over his features for a second longer.
“Craving for a round two?” Jimin asked. You turned forward quickly and he snorted.
“N-No...” you said, suddenly reminded of Jimin’s seed that you kept in your womb. “Were you really that mad?” You asked with starry eyes. Jimin pursed his lips and the elevators dinged. He stepped in and once the doors closed in front of you, Jimin’s hand snaked around you and he squeezed your hip.
“I would never be furious with you, baby. I just didn’t expect you to go dancing. I reserved us a room for a reason.” He snorted and guilt washed over you.
“I’m sorry, I was so dumb and inconsiderate.” You shook your head as you faced the ground.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said while raising your head with his finger. Jimin looked into your eyes and smiled warmly. “Don’t say that. That’s the last thing you are. All I see is a strong, beautiful woman whom I can never get out of my mind.” The two of you giggled at the last part and Jimin pulled your face forward for a gentle kiss and whispered against your soft lips.
“Happy birthday.”
429 notes · View notes
thatninafloblog · 6 years
Text
It’s been a while...
Hello there. It’s bee a while since i’ve been here. I guess the busyness of life and all the crazy there is has kept me away. But here I am. Back at it again. Almost a week away from my 23rd birthday! And man if that isn’t a reminder that life is passing me by faster than the speed of light, then I don’t know what is. So what’s been new with me you ask?:
Well for starters about 2 months ago I got my heart broken. But actually broken. Not like it’s been before. The only other time I can say it was that bad was junior year of college. But this time it was worse because I really really liked this guy - I may even say I was falling for him. But we rushed into things and then I guess things kind of spiraled out of control for the both of us. In my eyes things were going fine, and yes I guess there were a couple red flags but I ignored them. I ignored his indecisiveness and inability to confront the tougher situations. I ignored the fact that he would talk mostly about himself and even though he seemed to really care about me and how I was doing I guess I had some rose colored glasses on and I didn’t see the truth coming. And man did it hurt. The truth hurts especially when you weren’t expecting it. Especially after all the beautiful memories you thought you were making together. And that’s just it, I was always more invested in that relationship than he was. I liked him more and he saw that and I guess he got scared and worried and didn’t see me the way i saw him. And that freaking sucks man. The rejection. The heartbreak. Nothing like i’ve experienced before. But here I am. TRYING. Trying to move on and forget him. And even though I told myself it was over and decided not to pursue him again - or look for “closure” - i made the stupid mistake of texting him and asking him if he’d still be open to talking about things. OF COURSE he said no. OF COURSE. I was stupid enough to think he’d actually say yes...after a month and a half of no response from me. L.OOOOO.L
But it’s all for the best. Things happened exactly as they were supposed to. And I am grateful - because I know the pain and heartbreak has made me stronger. I know I learned a lot from him. From his perspective on life, and God. And he drew me closer to Him. My faith grew because he pushed me that way. He pushed me to do better for myself. To step out of my comfort zone and not be comfortable being where I was at. At a dead end job that didn’t make me happy. He was right about that. I was doing it all wrong. I was unhappy and stuck - so stuck in that space. And so for that I am forever grateful. He taught me to believe in myself. And even though I’m still working on that, I appreciate that lesson because it was necessary. 
As was the heartbreak. How could I expect to move forward with a rushed relationship and someone who wasn’t 100% sure about me or our relationship? Why would I want to be with someone who didn’t feel the same about me? Who was forcing himself to “try so hard”, forcing himself to be a person he wasn’t I guess. And no one deserves that. He was immature, yes, and he messed up but then again so did I. And I learned SO MUCH from that short month that we had together. I miss him. I miss him every single day but I look forward to the day when I won’t miss him. I look forward to the day where what we had is just a bunch of nice little memories. And not sad memories that make me cry or make me mad because even now I still don’t understand why he broke things off exactly - what sparked it, and why end it over a freaking FaceTime call. In other words, I DESERVE BETTER. I DO. 
And of course hindsight is 20/20 and I cannot be that person anymore. The one who gives in 110% of herself while the other gives half. The one who wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts soooo easily. The one who dumps all that baggage on the second date. The one who lets her emotions get in the way of whats rational and real. The one who doesn’t value herself enough to demand better from others. Who will accept a love that doesn’t respect her the way she deserves and doesn’t appreciate and love her for exactly who she is instead of who they want her to be. A love that is kind, and raw and real. A love that isn’t complicated or doubtful or insecure. Because that’s not love. A love that doesn’t expect anything in return, isn’t trying to change her or break her. That’s what I need and that’s what I know I’ll find someday. So I cannot settle for less, because even after all the honesty and heart I poured into this I found out that he’s not the man God has for me and I need to be okay with that.
...To Be Continued...
March 22nd, 7:03 pm
1 note · View note
obsidianarchives · 6 years
Text
Black Women Creators: Lola Kolade and Heather Akumiah
Heather Akumiah and Lola Kolade are the authors of The Typic Witches. They both hold degrees in creative writing from Columbia University. We spoke to them about their novel and being creators.
Black Girls Create: What do you create?
Heather: We are writing a serialized novel about three Black girls who find out they’re witches on their 22nd birthday. Personally, I create scarves, baked goods, and short stories.
Lola: In addition to The Typic Witches, I write other novels, short stories, and I do a lot of fuse beading, which is basically those beads that you used to do as a kid that you can iron and make crafts with.
BGC: How did you get the idea to write The Typic Witches?
Heather: In my senior year of undergrad I took a required class that made us try a bunch of different genres of writing. One of the things we had to do was a really short screenplay. I did mine about three girls who were witches in college and are in a club together. And it was pretty different from the way we wrote The Typic Witches, for example, they all practiced voodoo. So I wrote it and finished it, but it was not something I was interested in working with again. But then shortly after graduating, I was scrolling through my Twitter feed and Lola had tweeted about doing something that was similar to what I had worked on.
Lola: Yeah so over the summer, I was just kind of randomly joking and tweeted, “Who wants to help me make a web series about witches of color living in New York City?” I totally thought that it would just kind of be out in the world and then die because I have no Twitter followers. But after seeing it, Heather texted me and was like, “Hey I’ve written this script if you’re actually interested in doing something, we could actually make that happen.” I was interested because I knew that she’d actually done a web series while we were in college. So we started meeting weekly to outline a season, but realized pretty quickly that making a web series -- getting the people to act in it, the cameras, editing magic in a way that didn’t look terrible -- would be really time-consuming, so we started to switch gears and think about other ways that we could use the concept.
Heather: When we first started writing we outlined one or two episodes, so that’s part of what drew us to this serialized format. But we also felt like it was so appropriate for our time right now, and the way people consume media.
BGC: Is this your first project?
Lola: It’s our first project together. I’ve written a novel that I’m in the process of revising right now, and we both have written separate stuff all throughout college.
Heather: I’ve written fiction and some nonfiction throughout college. I also did a web series in college that I wrote, produced, and directed. It was called Drama @ CU and followed six Columbia students. It was a fake reality TV show because I love reality TV and I think it’s a bizarre and fascinating format. I don’t know if you’ve seen Real Husbands of Hollywood, I haven’t, but apparently, it’s the same sort of concept where it’s a scripted reality show.
BGC: How has it been, working together? How do you hold each other accountable and make sure you both have a voice within the story you’re telling?
Heather: Writing together was something neither of us had ever done and is sort of a weird concept when writing prose, but what was really helpful in making sure that neither of us was having trouble being heard is that we wrote in the style of Gossip Girl. It was a really conscious decision on both of our parts because individually it’s not a style of writing that either of us aspires to or is interested in doing. But it is a good way of making sure that neither of our individual voices is drowned out. And it also obviously serves the message and the energy of the story, which is just supposed to be lighthearted and fun.
Lola: And outside of that, just in terms of actually outlining the story, it was just super collaborative off jump, so I don’t think that there is anything that has made it into the story that is just wholly one person’s idea. Everything is a hybrid.
BGC: So how do you decide who gets to write certain sections or characters once you’ve created the outline?
Heather: Something that carried over from when we were outlining it as a web series was that we broke it into scenes, so initially we would just alternate writing scenes. And then if at any point we felt like one of us was writing one character too much, we would adjust so that we could both get to equal time with each character.
Lola: When we standardized our process more, we did it so that we were alternating each character’s perspective each chapter. So it’s a good way of making sure that we knew what was happening in each chapter, which can get kind of lost in translation when you’re writing with another person.
BGC: What do you hope people get out of the story/your work?
Lola: What I hope this story does, in particular, is create this community of young Black women who get to see themselves doing something fun and happy as opposed to all of these really “tough,” “urban,” stories that Black women are often represented in or having to grasp at scraps. Like even with the whole Black Hermione thing, so many Black women have read her as a Black character, but there’s nothing that explicitly says that and I think that was something that was important for us, was for it to be explicitly about and for Black women.
Heather: Another thing is that I feel like when I was growing up there was this leap from having a handful of children’s books with Black characters to then being like oh now it’s time to read Toni Morrison. And I feel like it’s not a coincidence that there’s a gap there where there should be depictions of Black girlhood and Black female youth, and not just Black girl hidden times of strife and struggle. We wanted to show Black girls doing leisure activities and enjoying the company of other Black girls and we just want young Black girls to be able to read a world that resembles theirs.
BGC: Who is your audience?
Lola: First and foremost Black women from anywhere from the age 16 to 30. But broadly speaking, if you are at all interested in the idea of young women having fun then I think you would enjoy our story.
Heather: Or if you’re interested in pop culture, if you read Gossip Girl, if you like YA, if you like reading about young women of color, or witchcraft, that’s what we’re doing.
BGC: Who or what inspired you to do what you do? Who or what continues to inspire you?
Lola: I think that for me personally, definitely my mom. She’s not artsy or creative but she’s just accomplished a ton while raising a family. In terms of this project, something that has been really inspiring is the army of Black women that have mobilized to make it happen for us. From our mothers to our friends who were our first group of readers, our web developer, the people who helped us put together our launch party, there have been so many -- the people who write to us on Tumblr telling us they love our story. So many Black women have really come together to kind of make sure that The Typic Witches is out in the world and is doing what it is and I think those are the people that really inspire me to keep going with the project.
Heather: When we were writing the project, most of the references and the jokes that we made and the things we embedded into the story were because we knew that if a Black girl came upon it she’s going to think like this is so funny, she’s going to think this is so cool. So in terms of who inspired me during this writing process, thinking of other Black girls, my Black girlfriends, thinking of them having something that was entertaining to them to read is what kept me going when we were writing.
BGC: Why is it important as a Black person to create?
Lola: I don’t know that I’ve ever really thought about myself as a Black creator in particular. And I don’t mean that in like I distance myself from my Blackness in any way, but it’s just that when I write stories about Black girls and women I do that because I am a Black woman who was a Black girl, that’s my life experience, and those are the people who are around me and that I care about and who I want to enjoy my work. So there is a politicized message quality to that in that I think about those people and rendering them accurately, but I really just think that if you want to create you should create, and not necessarily feel the burden of representing Black people broadly.
Heather: I would say it sort of just has been my instinct to make things and to create. Obviously, it’s important for Black people to create so that we can contribute our own views of ourselves to the world at large. I think more than it being important to create -- because I think it’s something that might be instinctual to a lot of people -- it’s important to persist. Because there are a lot more boundaries for us than for other creators. So I think in the back of my head when I’m writing or creating I don’t think as much about how my creative process is different, I think about how the process to get my work out might be different.
BGC: How do you balance creating with the rest of your life?
Heather: I just squeeze it in, I don’t know. Like I said, it’s instinctive, so it is something I want to do in my free time. It’s basically what I think about when I’m doing anything else.
Lola: I agree, I generally squeeze it in. Especially throughout the process of writing this novel, I’ve become more regimented about it in terms of forcing myself to fit it in as opposed to telling myself I’ll get to it next time. But yeah, there’s no time in my day when I’m not thinking of something I’m writing.
BGC: Any advice for young creators or ones just starting?
Lola: I think the best advice is just to do it if you can. That’s what was so exciting about taking the prose format as opposed to the series format, it took away any of the barriers that could have told us not to go forward with this, because it was just up to us to make the time to write it. So if there are no obstacles in your path and you can do what you want to do, you should definitely do it.
Heather: I would also say to give yourself wiggle room and a bit of flexibility for what your ideal creative projects are, because I think if someone had told me my senior year of college -- or even six months before we started this project -- that I would be working with another writer on a novel, I would’ve been like that’s weird, I’m not doing that. But it’s turned into this thing that I’m so proud of and that I think is amazing so I think having some flexibility and letting yourself go where your creative process takes you can definitely help serve you in the end.
BGC: Any future or dream projects?
Heather: As far as creative projects, it’s always short stories. They will always be what I’m working on, what I want to be working on, and what I want to be out next.
Lola: For me, there’s this monster of a novel that I’ve been working on for like years now. I finally, hopefully, have some interest in it, so I’m working on a big revision in that project which is what’s consuming my time. But if I had all of the resources in the world to do whatever I wanted, I’d want to do a massive Planet Earth-style documentary, but just charting famous Black women creatives throughout history. So like a huge anthology of writers and dancers and playwrights and actresses because I feel like so much of that history kind of disappears.
2 notes · View notes
elf-kid2 · 7 years
Text
Megamind Soulmate AU
When you write something on your arms, the marks appear on the arms of your soulmate as well. This is known: the soul-bond does not begin at birth; it is only possible with both souls have reached a certain level of maturity. No one knows what triggers the bond; it is not restrained by distance, by language, by contact... but everyone knows that a soulmate is true love, however improbable it may seem. 
Some people develop the mark as young as 14; others begin to find their Soulmate’s marks on their skin when they’re in their 20′s; some never get a mark at all.  In some countries, people bare their arms openly, to better show their art and facilitate the finding of the soulmate (who will of course match). In most of the northwest hemisphere, especially the United States, baring one’s arms in public is considered extremely taboo, even obscene: a cultural norm born of cold weather, left over from outdated arranged-marriage traditions, and puritanism.
Megamind never wrote or drew anything on his arms. There was no point: if he had ever had a soulmate (which wasn’t guaranteed) they had no doubt perished young, lost to the black hole with the rest of his homeworld.
He was never more surprised than the day he discovered a line of colors (black, white, pink, red, yellow, purple, orange, green and, when he looked closer, a shade of blue close to that of his own skin) on his left arm while getting dressed one morning. His first thought was that it must be a bruise- except that he hadn’t hit himself, it didn’t hurt, and the tidy, circular segments of colour didn’t actually look like a bruise at all. His second thought was that he must have spattered himself with paint, except that he had been in the Lair, wearing long sleeves and gloves, and he hadn’t been anywhere near the paint in three days. His third thought was that he needed a plan.
Roxanne Ritchi was not obsessed with finding her soulmate. She didn’t worry, as some did, about ‘missing her chance’ or  She did not decorate her arms with new doodles every day the way some of her friends from middle and high-school claimed to, nor did she spend an excess amount of time or thought looking for a new mark and trying to determine if this or that dot was a freckle or a drop of ink-- but that’s not to say she wasn’t interested.
Every year on her birthday, Roxanne would take out a box of special colored ink-pens (given to her by an aunt for her 15th birthday as a right-of-passage type thing) and draw a multicolored pattern on her arm. She is careful to make bright, clear lines and use a variety of colours-- both light and dark-- because she’s heard too many stories of people missing their chance because they used a shade of ink to close to the color of their Soulmate’s skin, causing the marks to go unnoticed.
The day after her 22nd birthday, Roxanne woke up to find that her right arm was covered in black ink. (Was her soulmate left-handed?). Near the wrist was a pattern of tiny, unfamiliar symbols arranged in a spiral. Below that, a set of Chinese characters. Then a message in arabic. Then a question in German, then French, then Spanish. Finally, close to her shoulder, she could read the message: How did you survive?
She found translations for all of the marks except the ones closest to her wrist: How did you survive?
It took three weeks of communicating at cross-purposes before Megamind figured out that his Soulmate (who was, as it turned out, english-speaking) was in fact native to planet Earth. He felt... The realization... It felt like losing his people all over again. It hurt. He’d known, of course, that even if she (they had confirmed each others pronouns within two days of establishing communication) was also interested in starting a family, one couple was not enough to rebuild a population, even with cloning technology. He also knew that it was probably-- safer-- for both of them this way; the world was not kind so a solitary blue alien, and he could very clearly imagine what people would do if they saw more. An alien was an oddity; Aliens were an invasion or an infestation to be destroyed with extreme prejudice for the good of all humankind. He and Minion had been stockpiling weapons and improving security at the Evil Lair since the soul-bond had appeared, for just that reason. Part of him, some small, cursed part of him, was actually, secretly, a little bit relieved.
Roxanne wondered, sometimes, about his first love. Reading between the lines, Roxanne could tell that he’d initially thought that she, his Soulmate, was a certain childhood sweetheart or previous girlfriend who hadn’t been heard from since died in some sort of accident or natural disaster years ago. It was fairly common in this day and age for people to date before they made contact with their soulmate, and really it would be silly to be jealous of a girl who had died, but. But. Roxanne wondered if she would measure up to her Soulmate’s first love, the girl he had lost. She wondered if they would still have been soulmates if the other girl hadn’t died, or if she would have ended up alone. But there was nothing to be jealous about.
Mostly, it hurt. He was alone on this planet, he and Minion were completely alone hear, and when they died all that was left of his planet, all that was left of his parents’ legacy, would die with them. He had known that for years, but having hope, having a chance and then feeling it ripped away once more in the cruel hands of fate made the facts all the harder to bear. Furthermore, Megamind had somehow become Bonded to a human. She would expecting someone of her own species, probably hoping for someone tall and square-jawed, with good hair and lots of money. What if they met, and she couldn’t stand to look at him? What if she was horrified, or angry, or disappointed, or scared when-- if they met in person?
Roxanne had asked, a few times, about meeting in person, but each time he wrote a note saying that, for now, it was impossible. She understood, really,  she did. Based on their first communication, where he had asked How did you survive? in so many languages, she suspected that he was from another country (most US citizens were not bilingual), and though he wrote in English fluently enough, perhaps he was less comfortable with the spoken language? In any case, if he lived in another country, it could take a lot of time and money before he was able to visit her, or before she was able to visit him. She understood.
Roxanne gave him her phone number instead.
When she gave him her phone number during one of their "evening chats” (sessions in which they would lock themselves in their rooms and exchange notes, sharing jokes, doodles, poetry, and little incidents from the day with the sort of ink that could be easily washed away to make room for more notes), he wasn’t sure what to do. She had a Metro City area code. Megamind hadn’t expected that. He knew he’d mislead her, allowing her to believe that he lived overseas in some far-away country, but he hadn’t actually expected to find out that they lived in the same city.
He wondered who she was
Two days after she’d written her own phone number on her arm (two days of worry and nervousness, because what if really he didn’t like the sound of her voice, what if she said something wrong when he called, what if he never called at all, what if he didn’t ever want to see her, what if...), Roxanne got a text message from an unlisted number: “My Queen, shall we continue our correspondence?” She blushed, smiling in delight: this was how her Soulmate liked to ‘greet’ her in their evening chats. Now they could send messages anytime... and now that she had his number, she could call him.
“Ollo?” She’d called when he was in the middle of building a weaponized tunneling vehicle (the name was also in the works). Somehow, he hadn’t expected her to call
“It’s me. I mean, this is Roxanne Ritchi, I mean... can you spare a minute to talk with your Queen?” she’d called during her lunch break, on an impulse, and she hadn’t planned on telling him her name, hadn’t planned on what to say at all, hadn’t thought that maybe there was a time difference and he was at work or asleep or something, but... she’d wanted to know what his voice sounded like.
“I always have time for you,” he said, making his voice low and smooth. “So, my only Soulmate, did you say you’re name was Roxanne?” He already knew her name of course; he’d tracked her down almost as soon as he had her number. But being able to talk to her, being able to say her beautiful, luscious name outloud, to her...
“Roxanne Ritchi,” she said. Gah, she loved his voice; she should have called him ages ago. “I’m an investigative reporter with the KMCP8 Newstation. What’s your name? What do you do for a living?” It was hard to believe they’d been bonded for months, yet she still didn’t know his name.
“I-” how was he supposed to answer? “Roxanne, I--” How was he supposed to tell Roxanne Ritchi, the smart, witty, beautiful reporter, the woman who had twice discovered his Evil Scheme early and had to be taken hostage, who he’d seen flirting with his most hated rival following both those occasions-- how was he supposed to tell her that her one and only Soulmate was a (skinny, blue, big-headed, short, freakish) notoriously unsuccessful Super Villain?
“I’m really not that interesting,” he whispered. “And Roxanne, my love, I’d much rather talk about you.”
“Come on, don’t tease,” she giggled. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours. What’s your name?” He’d drawn this out as long as possible. He could try to delay again, make it last a little bit longer, but sooner or later she would get sick of waiting; sooner or later she would figure it out.
“My name is Megamind,” he said, his voice holding more confidence than he felt. “Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy. Roxanne will you-- do you still--- wont you be my Queen?”
“Is this a joke?” Roxanne demanded. “It isn’t funny!” “It’s no joke,” her soul mate Megamind the voice on the other end of the phone replied. “...If you don’t believe me, you can look at your left wrist.”
“I will!” she grabbed her purse and stormed to the privacy of a stall in the Lady’s Room to role up her sleeves. (She was angry, but she wasn’t about to get undressed in public.) There on her arm, in the same handwriting her soulmate always had, was the message. My name is Megamind.
They met in person for the first time that very evening. It went infinitely better than Megamind thought it would.
It went about as well as could be expected.
He wondered if she wished that he were human. She wondered if he wished she were blue. He wanted to know what she thought of his career. She wanted to know why he chose it. He wanted to give her nice things. She wanted to give him a home. He hoped that she would get along with Minion. (Soulmate or not, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she couldn’t.) She delighted in the thought of how her family would react if when she took him home for Thanksgiving. He offered to conquer the world so that she could truly be Queen. She offered to help him rework his PR until he didn’t have to fight the world.
They kissed for the first time that night.
It was... wonderful.
The debate continued on if Megamind should give up Villainy, or if Roxanne should become his ‘Partner in Crime’.
In the end, both were happy with the decision.
They were married three months later-- after what Megamind described as a torturously long engagement. Roxanne’s family felt that it was scandalously short-- but since they were hoping the groom would die in a lab accident before the wedding, they don’t get to vote.
Roxanne and Megamind Ritchi went on to do great things together. (One of their greatest achievements was successfully creating-- and doing an unusually successful job at maintaining-- a happy family.)
174 notes · View notes
jaxonkreide · 7 years
Text
32 Things About Me tagged by  -not really tagged, but @harunnn said I should do it
1)  ☆゚ Name: I dropped my real name several times in the past, but I’m honestly more comfortable with being called Jaxon :v It’s kinda replaced my real name in my heart 2)  ☆゚ Nickname(s): Jax, Jaxi.... a long time ago a piece of code called me cinnamon butt... there’s probably more that I’m forgetting right now 3)  ☆゚ Zodiac sign: Scorpio and/or Sagittarius. It’s weird everything seems split about where my birthday belongs 4)  ☆゚ Height: 170cm.... I’m smaller than almost anyone I know irl :c 5)  ☆゚ Ethnicity: German 6)  ☆゚ Birthplace: Germany  7)  ☆゚Sexual orientation: aroace 8)  ☆゚ Favourite fruit(s): Are strawberries fruits? If not banana and nectarine  9)  ☆゚ Favourite season(s): fall definitely. Also that certain time spring when the leaves of the trees are this soft green 10) ☆゚ Favourite song(s):  oh hmm... I haven’t really listened to anything lately :v I’ve been thinking about Xion and Vector to the Heavens a lot lately tho 11) ☆゚ Favourite flower(s):  Definite number one is the forget-me-not, but I also really like lilies, sunflowers, snapdragons (which are called lions jaw in german, but like hmm... a cute form?) and a lot more but I’m bad with names 12) ☆゚ Favourite book(s): man, I love a lot of books.... I’ve recently read the Tapestry series tho and am still really emotional about it 13) ☆゚ Favourite animal(s): BIRDS, but next to them I also really like especially foxes and cats (do dragons count and mythical animals count??) 14) ☆゚ Favourite beverage(s): I’ve only really been drinking tap water for a long time :v but next to that I really love strawberry and rooibos tea 15) ☆゚ Favourite fictional character(s): For absolute favorite it has definitely developed to be Xion from Kingdom Hearts and Toshinori lol 16) ☆゚ Dream trip: I dunno?? I kinda want to go to a bird cafe :o but I fear that they aren’t treated well there.... so I’d rather just meet friends around the world?? 17) ☆゚ Killed people:  now there has always been this inside joke between me and my rl friends to piss me off when I’m carrying this certain pencil, because I’ve definitely killed people with it before. I think I’m gonna leave it at that  18) ☆゚ Siblings: Yeeahhh... three older ones. One brother, two sisters. I’m the youngest 19) ☆゚ Horror films?: Nah, I have this certain thing where I have this very vivid imagination and I’m already kinda paranoid;; so I’m trying to stay clear of really graphic horror and the stuff. In the past it was so bad that I once thought I saw blood dripping down the windows;; haha....ha.............. I still have a hard time even walking downstairs in our house at night especially when I’m alone.... 20) ☆゚ Reason to smile: seeing mackerel, bad jokes... and good jokes, seeing others smile/laugh... happy stuff in general? 21) ☆゚ Questions you are always asked: Nothing really??  22) ☆゚ Favourite food(s):  uhmmmm spaghetti bolognese, bread dumplings (i think they’re called)... there are more but I’m forgetting the names just now + does german mole cake count as food? 23) ☆゚ A gift you currently want to receive: Kingdom Hearts 3 no, but seriously I don’t really know... some bird stuff? Just money?? I want to have enough for my drivers licence....... but that’s a lot 24) ☆゚ OTP: I’m not really an active shipper AT ALL??? I guess I really like Rokushi? (roxas x xion from kingdom hearts) But I don’t really know? Canon ships? Canon and healthy ships are just my OTP. BroTPs are my life tho. All about that friendship 25) ☆゚One thing that changed about you:  I was a very different person before like my dad died at age 6 I get told a lot (by my mom) :v but uhhmm I don’t really remember anything about that. So maybe I hated book until I was age 10 and my mom kept reading Jim Button to me unless I started reading on my own? When I was younger I also still identified as a girl. I didn’t like drawing until like I think 7th grade? And I got a friend that drew and started myself to fit more in. I don’t like that person anymore but drawing is still my passion. I used to have about hip long hair until I cut it last year. Best decision I ever made 26) ☆゚ Your first ship: ????????????????????? ok, completely honest Eragon from the book with the same name with myself. I was like 10 or 11 back then for fucks sake. And so my first story I ever really thought of was a gosh darn fanfic in which I was just cool and way better than eragon but still ended up with him. Heck yeah. Let kids do self indulgent stuff even if it’s self shipping...... heck, let anyone do self indulgent stuff... I still do self ships from time to time, just because it makes me feel better (also not really a ship, but let people think about their self indulgent stories where they get adopted by their fave character) 27) ☆゚ NOTP: any unhealthy relationship? bad chemistry? Incest and pedophilia? Yeah, all of those 28) ☆゚Fear that you want to conquer: ....picking up the phone, to ask again about stuff if you didn’t understand it instead of just trying to figure out what to do, not going outside because I fear to be seen by others I know or don’t, currently slowly conquering a heavy attention fear which I’ve slowly challenged again and again since creating this blog 29) ☆゚Favourite fanfiction(s): I honestly don’t read a lot of fanfics. I have kind of trouble starting to read any. Mostly I just read things come from trusted sources and I know to be good? But even then I have a few fanfics in an open tab for months already and I couldn’t read them yet... but I really like what sevi007 writes for the smile again AU, forgedobsidian has the beautiful aphelion and I still really like dotpp by tsukithewolf (it’s an undertale fanfic). Not tagging those people here tho lol 30) ☆゚ Favourite sport(s): CLIMBING;;;;; I really want to start climbing again.... I keep saying that and then use the excuse of my horrible left wrist to not do it, BUT I REALLY WANT TO GO THROUGH WITH IT AGAIN NO MATTER THE PAIN........ yeah, climbing is my passion 31) ☆゚ Birth of your blog: this one was created last year :v on 22nd march actually, but like I’ve been on tumblr with another blog since 2013, but I’ve never posted anything on that one, because of that attention fear..... it’s weird I have an attention fear but also really really want attention :// it’s a lose lose situation lol 32) ☆゚ Followers: 154 lol it’s been pretty stagnant for a long while :v I just talk too much and I don’t mind it. My blog isn’t just for everybody, so I’m especially grateful to anyone that IS here
Tagging: humm.... no one really? Anyone who wants to do it?
2 notes · View notes
callmeblake · 7 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Selections from Kerrang Issue #1642 (screencaps from pressreader)
Photo Credit: Paul Harries and Ashley Maile
Magazine Release Date: October 19th, 2016
Issue Label: October 22nd, 2016
I just LOVE Frank’s face in this
(you can read it, on presssreader, you just have to play around with the size of your screen to see it all)
OMG it has a an audio as WELL. It’s a computer voice! It calls Gerard “Jared”!
Transcript for selections below 
REJOIN THE BLACK PARADE
It’s the mcr album that changed your life. 10 years on, we retell its amazing story…
Kerrang! (UK)
19 Oct 2016
In the autumn of 2006, My Chemical Romance’s third album, The Black Parade, landed in the lap of this magazine. In Kerrang!’s world, the quintet from New Jersey were already stars, the band having graced our covers since the release of 2004’s Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge. Two years on from the grief-stricken purge of their second album, MCR were ready for a leap into the great wide open of superstardom with a capital ‘S’. The Black Parade would serve as a down-payment on this new exalted status… The review that preceded the album’s release described MCR’S soon-to-be-blockbuster as having “flamboyance in abundance”, but also depth. “Beneath the surface is where to look on this album,” we wrote .“underneath the imagery and the concept is where you’ll find all sorts – hope, resignation, anger, defiance, self-loathing and a thousand more emotions aside. It’ll take a few listens, but when The Black Parade reveals its secrets to you, you’ll be dazzled by its brilliance.”
Turns outthe Black Parade revealed its secrets with such resonance that a decade on, we’re still talking about it.this week, the 13-song set (14 songs including hidden track, Blood) celebrates its 10th birthday.
“I remember reading an early interview with [frontman] Gerard Way where he said something that I think best sums up My Chemical Romance,” remembers former Kerrang! writer Catherineyates, who in August of 2006 spoke with the band in Camden Town for their first cover story in support ofthe Black Parade.“before he found success with the band, he was talking about how he was living in his parents’ basement, working a crappy retail job and was unhappy with his life. He thought,‘i’ve just got to get out of this basement.’ And he did. I think that serves as a powerful metaphor for anyone unhappy with their current situation. It’s a powerful metaphor for anyone.”
By the time of The Black Parade, Gerard Way had left behind not just his parents’ basement, but also the My Chemical Romance music that had preceded it.
For the latter part of the 20th century and the first years of the 21st century, the terms ‘concept album’ and – Shock! Horror! – ‘rock opera’ were about as appealing as being run over by a car.with the release of American Idiot, in 2004 Green Day changed all that. Suddenly, thematic ideas splayed upon vast canvases were as artistically acceptable as they had been in the 1970s.
It is testament to MCR’S moxie that while clearly influenced by Green Day’s magnum opus – as well as utilising the services of that album’s talented producer, Rob Cavallo – the only debt The Black Parade owes to the 2004 smash is the notion of an album as a thematic concern, and a sense of fearlessness in its blue-sky thinking. Recorded between April and August of 2006 at Eldorado Recording Studios Recording Studios in Burbank, California, the album encompassed themes of death, life, disease, childhood recollections and the triumph of the human spirit in the face of adversity. The songs Welcome To The Black Parade, Famous Last Words, I Don’t Loveyou andteenagers were picked as singles. In the spirit of the ‘surrogate band’ in Pink Floyd’s The Wall and David Bowie’s alter ego Ziggy Stardust from the The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars set, on the tour in support of their third album the group appeared under the nom de plume The Black Parade.all the while they were dressed in black marching uniforms that resembled a monochromatic incarnation of the clothes sported by The Beatles on the front cover of their 1967 classic Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
Released on October 23, 2006,The Black Parade debuted on the U.S. Billboard album chart at Number Two and in the same position in the UK. In their home country, the album would go on to sell some 1.6 million copies. worldwide, the collection would find its way into the homes of no fewer than three million people. Success, though, came at a cost.the recording of The Black Parade and the mammoth tour undertaken in its name – which included a sold-out date at London’s O2 Arena on November 15, 2007 – would take its toll on this sensitive band.at various times on the road, bassist Mikey Way and guitarist Frank Iero would absent themselves from the line-up, vacancies that were filled by stand-in musicians; it would also be the last time drummer Bob Bryar recorded with the group. The album would also prove to be MCR’S creative and commercial high-water mark.as of 2013, as you will know, the band are no more.
“The Black Parade is significant not just for its music, but for the fact that it was probably the last rock album to become really popular before the internet took over,” believes Catherine Yates. “These days it would be really hard for a band to establish themselves with such a strong visual ethic because there’s so much music competing for people’s attention.”
With The Black Parade, MCR defined their legacy in musical form. It is a testament to what was, and what will always be.
IT'S NOT A FASHION STATEMENT...
Andy BIERSACK TALKS us THROUGH The FASHION OF The BLACK PARADE…
Kerrang! (UK)
19 Oct 2016
■ “My Chemical Romance coming back with The Black Parade and the look that went with it was like someone planting a flag and saying that, in 2006,‘This is how we – the weirdos and the outcasts – look, and this is how we feel.’ It’s a fantastic aesthetic, and there’s an incredibly talented costume designer at Warner Brothers [Colleen Atwood] who designed it with Gerard, and that collaboration resulted in this incredible visual style that you can’t ignore. At the time, I didn’t know Gerard was such a comic book enthusiast, and there’s definitely a costumed hero vibe readily noticeable in those outfits now. One of the things that makes me smile is that if you asked the average person to draw the costumes, I’d bet they’d draw the same jacket for every member. But the reality is that each member’s outfit was nuanced enough that they retained their individuality. while I’ve never taken explicit influence from their actual aesthetic, when I designed the costumes for the Wretched And Divine I specifically drew each member’s outfit the way I thought it should be, and then worked with them individually to give each that personality, and that was hugely influenced by The Black Parade. For me, it’s never been just about the music.the whole package is what provides that escapism, the music is the soundtrack to the feeling, and that feeling is one of being disenfranchised. Sometimes you want to show your differences from others, and the aesthetic of The Black Parade empowered so many people to do so.”
THE FIRST GIG AND WE WERE THERE!
MCR ANNOUNCED THE BLACK PARADE IN TYPICALLY ENIGMATIC FASHION IN LONDON ON AUGUST 22, 2006. OUR EDITOR, JAMES MCMAHON,WAS THERE…
Kerrang! (UK)
19 Oct 2016
“I’ll be honest, for me, I didn’t quite realise the significance at the time. I went to the show because I liked MCR, but I didn’t understand the sheer gravity of what I’d just witnessed until much later.‘due to unforeseen circumstances, My Chemical Romance are unable to perform this evening…’ boomed the venue’s PA. I remember the boos.the detritus being thrown at the stage. I remember the pregnant pause. ‘However… My Chemical Romance’s good friends The Black Parade have kindly stepped in as a replacement…’ I remember the confusion.the realisation The Black Parade and MCR were one and the same.the euphoria.and then I remember one of the greatest gigs I’ve ever had the good fortune to be present at. I Don’t Love you, House Of wolves, Cancer… all songs being played live for the first time. I remember thinking,‘this could be to emo what American Idiot was to punk…’ and I think I nailed that one from the off. I have to say, that Hammersmith Palais was one of the greatest venues. So yeah, I didn’t realise the significance at the time, but now, I’m aware I was in the presence of a legend being forged.”
20 notes · View notes
targsdaenerys · 7 years
Text
let me tell you all a story. a story of my experience with ouat.
2012.
in fourth grade, i was watching american idol. during commercials, i viewed a promo consisting of a dragon and unicorns. now, at the time, unicorns were my ver y favorite, so of course, i was intrigued. i told my mom that i heard about a show with unicrons, but that i didnt know what it was called. she told me how she had heard of it and wanted to check it out. after watching the season one interviews between red and snow, she believed it was too old for me. i agreed. no unicorns. not what i was expecting.
2013.
a year passes. fifth grade was a blur, and all i know is that we went to disney. i had no idea what would change since then.
2014.
my friends are suddenly starting to talk about this kid’s eyebrows. how they are “so hot” and “sexy”. she showed me a picture off of robbie kay’s instagram and i laughed. ha, peter pan? whatever.
but then, it started to reoccur each monday, they would talk about it. i actually started to look forward to monday lunch periods. i begged them to discuss what they thought of the episode. once again, i was intrigued. 
so of course, i wanted to see what the fuss was about. whats this big deal with peter pan? and who the hell’s rumple after only a few clips, i suddenly loved snow and charming. i needed more. i needed to watch.
so i tried. desperately.  i only had an ipad, and was unaware it was on netlfix, so i tried to watch the first episode of the series by typing in “once upon a time season 1 episode one online free to any platform.i actually was able to find it and went in excitedly the next day to tell my friends. that was when i learned it was on netflix and thati could not wait to get home and watch it. so i did. but the thing is, i was only there for snow and charming scenes.  i literally only skipped to their scenes. thats how i watched the show.
but then, as i was scrolling around youtube one day looking forsscenes for them, i came across “Emma and Hook Kiss scene” my frirst thought? it was between “ew”and “serioulsy?”
i watched it anyway.
and to behonest, it was kind of just a “okay, that happened” kind of thing. it wasnt until my friend told me after the season 3 finle that emma and hook kissed again before i got alitle excited. not much more, though.
then months pass, and suddenly, scrolling around netflix, i come across the hunger games. i held a grudge against the series since it became big with the popular group in my school that year. but i was thirsty for romance. and i heard it had some.
and thats how i fell in love with everlark. one night. the next morning i started following pages on instagram. i look up the ship on googlge. and tumblr posts pop up. i make a tumblr.
i start to follow pages on there with everlark, but then i start to see things on both platforms. emma and hook. and then, i slowly started to fall in love. not much. i just watch a couple of their scenes during season three, come across their second kiss. getting really, really excitated for the fourth season.
at the point, i had written about two everlark fanfictions. i wanted to write one about emma and hook, but i had no i dea how. or what .
but then tumblr inspired me. to the point where i started to freak out over every episode no matter how small the scenes were. in october of seventh grade, i wrote my first captain swan fanifction. i also drew my first drawing that i never thought i was able to do. sure, it was with a sketchbook my aunt got me in second grade and a #2 pecil, but i believe its still beautiful. it wasnt long after i actually found the name, captain swan, rather than using “kemma” or “killimma”.
2015.
and from there, my obsession sky rocketed. i stayed up until four every night after an episode, despite schol the next morning. i wrote little drabbles that arelong since gone ever since my laptop broke. i drew more drawings, i rewatched every scene until thats all that was in my head.the s4 finale was as hard on me as everyone else, and i tried to write a specualtion fic to the s5 premiere. i neverfinshed. although, looking back at the writing now, i can still feel the pain i was in by it.
and then season five started. again, i freaked out as much as everyone else. every episode. i still remeber the week after the first episode, we lost someone int he fandom. we miss you, love.
and then it was late october.saturday the 22nd, my mom came into my room to ask me if id seen my friend alyssa that day. she was a year older than me, afreshman in highschool. i didnt, so i told her. i didnt ever think what might have been.the following day, i was working at the food pantry when my mom caled me.they had found alyssa. but she wasnt okay.maybe in her mind she may have been the best shes ever been, but to us,she wasnt.
no one else knew, and i had to walk home in silence. i didnt cry because at the time we werent as close as the year before and it didnt hit me.but then my mother’s words repeated in my head. “Alyssa died, sweetie.” it was asentence i never forgot.
im not the best at keeping my emtions with myself. i always think people will judge me and call me selfish if i cry, and i didnt want it to be like that. so i kept it in.i kept the tears in for so, so long, even to the point here i didnt even cry at her wake where she looked like an angel although the scarf around her neck was something shed never wear. and what kept my sanity? once upon a time. it was then when i realized it was my anchor. 
2016.
back in 2015 my mother made me audtion for a vocational school. earlier that year i had found its dance program and wanted to go, but along the way my intrest dwindled. she told me to give it a shot anyway because i had a very low chance of making it in due to my grades at the time. 
i made it in. 
the following months were the worst of my life. every day on the way home from dance wed fight about which high school was better, and although she was right about me going to the vocational one, i wanted to stay in my district. lets just say the only thing that kept me from following alyssa into the darkness was dance competitions. oh, and what else. the damn once upon a time episodes.
she forced me to go to that school, by the way. sure, i enjoy it now, but the people there suck and i still do not like how she went at it.
that fall, i take my friend to our first convention.since i started watching oneupon a time, i wanted others to watch it, and my one friend agreed to. until the end of the neverland arc.  and peter pan died. no more ouat for her. but, since robbie was going to be there, lets go. she got a picture with him, i got a picture with bex. yayay.
2017.
last week, we experienced the best sunday of our life. a wedding we never really thought would happen. it was unbelievable. emma got her happy ending(or beginning) aand we got ours. it was so thrilling that even my friend who stopped watching in season three was excited. but as much as it was unbeliable the night, the following morning was too.
that was the most giddiest i had ever felt for school. every more we have a forty five minute bus ride and the but whole time i listened to the musical on repeat. but then, as i looked down to pause the music as we pulled into school, i saw my friends text. Jen’s facebook post.
i was in a daze all day.
it wasnt until lunch, the last period since it was a half day, where i just broke down. people asked me what was wrong and i explained as best i could, but shitty people have shitty outlooks on things and they didnt understand. it was the loneliest ive ever felt.
my mom kind of comforted me, telling me how she felt the same when parent hood ended and that ill find a new show ill like just the same, but one upon a time is special. no show can replace or even add onto what kind of mark it had left on me. it was what started my career in wririting and drawing. in someways it kept me alive. and what did people do when i told them this? they laughed.
it was tuesday night when i ran down stairs, telling my mom about convention tickets for colin and jen photo op i found on sale. we had them in mind for awhile, but never got them. she told me wed look into it. we missed the sale.
so here we were, here i was, aall i was able to think about was how id never meet the people who played the characters that shaped me and my future. until the next morning, my birthday, where i was given the tickets.
and today,to night, was pretty much the end of the storybook. im not going to go into it because i have it on a post from about an hour ago. but thank you everyone, for helping me be me. and thank you for this blessed oppurtuniy, in which i had never and will never take for granted, to be a part of such a magical communtiy. because of this platform i have aspired my career of writing, drawing, and fulfilling my dreams of being a princess by being able to contact disney about the program.if it wasnt for this damned, beautiful fucking shwow, i would probably bedrastically different. this story we created is timeless, a neverending fairytale in both real life and on screen. the story contiues for ever and ever in our hearts and writing and drawing and all of the incredible talents we all have.
1 note · View note