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madmadmilk · 4 years

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One After The One PART 2 | Tom Holland x Reader

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: If a fool knows they’re a fool, are they really a fool? (The answer is yes.) You weigh the pros and cons of meeting T, Blurry Boy, Tom-Holland-Imposter, but curiosity tips the scales.

Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics

Word Count: 6K grains of sand in your boots

“... What?”

You throat ran dry, and you’d be lying if several things didn’t just suddenly click in your mind. The pictures, or lack of pictures. “T.” His bio. It makes all makes total sense, and then it totally doesn’t.

None of that it made it any easier to believe the words coming out of her mouth.

“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland,” your friend exhales, repeating herself slowly.

…

This can’t be happening. You feel your brows furrow and face fall–– unsure of what to say or how to feel.

Tom Holland on Tinder?

No fucking way.

“... Who..? How..?” you reach up to scratch your eyebrow, hoping to stir up something to deflect her suggestions.

“You know, Spider-Man? We just watched him in that movie?” Liza starts slowly, then pretends to shoot webs, nearly bumping into her drink. “Thwip-thwip, yeah?”

You begin frown and shake your head, you wave away her hands.

“Yeah, uhm, yeah I know who he is. But there’s no way that’s––“

She gives you a knowing and cautious looking, tilting her head towards you in question. Her lower lip juts out and she pulls out her phone. You can assume she’s looking up pictures of the actor, and soon enough she has some glamour shot of him in a maroon suit.

He had glasses on. The same ones in that goddamn picture he had sent the other day.

That’s not...

You hold your phone search through your chats, scrolling past conversations and laughs, looking for that one picture. Your heads rest together as you swipe up slowly to show her the picture of him that he had sent… the one with the glasses.

There’s no way––

But you don’t say anything, solely waiting for her confirmation or denial.

“Friendly neighborhood romantic…” Liza mutters softly as she holds both phones closer to herself. “Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man…”

You take it from her and zoom in; sure enough, all those details fall into place.

Fuck.

You blink, comparing the smiles. They look identical.

But?

But Tom Holland is a A-list actor, smiley, pretty, bright and out of reach. You can’t even entertain the idea of meeting a ~celebrity~ through a shitty fucking dating app–– a hook-up one at that. It just doesn’t happen.

And the thought of him wanting to spend time with you?

“No… that’s not right,” you finally manage to say. “Uhm. It can’t be Tom.”

Upon saying that out loud, you catch yourself. You find yourself believing that it could have been him. So, it’s hard to say which part you were denying.

Liza does the critical thinking for you.

“I’m sorry, babe. This guy is lying to you.”

Liza looks at you with her big brown eyes, and you can see a little bit of pity. She nods slowly and turns away, leaving you with two phones in your hands and doubt in your heart.

“He’s using Tom Holland’s pictures, he’s not telling you the truth, and he’s not… offering you anything else about himself. You know?”

What?

You had gotten so comfortable with the idea of him, of “T.” Of “Blurry Boy,” his own person... and not with the reality of who he could be and what he’s doing to you.

The reality that he’s still really fucking suspicious, a stranger whose life and intentions you don’t actually know.

He’s definitely not Tom Holland, regretfully, and he’s probably not like any of the pictures he’s posted–– blurry, edited, whatever. And the conversations? Maybe it’s all a persona.

You don’t know a single thing about him.

Oh…

It stings more than you thought it would, even when you knew this was already a shaky start.

Liza watches you press your tongue to the side of your cheek, processing this with no argument or fight left. She feels bad having told you outright, but you both know that it’s what you would have wanted. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

She hugs your shoulders, as you slide her phone back towards her.

You let her hold you as you try to let the shame and shock pass.

Your phone pings softly on the table.

You read the message as it glows on your screen. You scoff as soon as you check it, because who else could it be?

BB: I bet you forgot to watch the episode lol

No.

You forgot you shouldn’t trust him.

…

BB: ?

BB: Hello?

BB: Hey, sorry idk if you’re busy or something right now. Just wondering how you were

BB: 👀

BB: Sorry, did I do something to make you mad?

Yes–– no. Yeah, kinda.

You pull down your phone screen, musing over the fact that more messages might appear. He’s sent something new every few hours since your talk with Liza earlier that day.

God, you’re glad you don’t have your read receipts on.

You spend some time lazing around in bed, hair up and out of your face, your pants crumpled and kicked on the floor nearby. You suck in your cheeks as you pick up your phone.

You’ve been cycling through social media all day–– not looking at anything in particular, but definitely avoiding texts from You Know Who.

You know what the messages say, you know that he’s wondering where you are and what you’re doing, but how do you face him after your fatal revelation with Liza? How do you recover? Well, you start by sorting out your buzzing thoughts….

First, you feel fucking embarrassed. There’s a burning, nauseous heat on your face, all because you didn’t realize those pictures were SO obviously fake, and that you were kinda into Whoever He Is.

Second, you feel righteous anger, for being dragged around even though he promised. Ha ha ha. He’s one hundred percent a stranger on the internet, alright. And you’re a fool for letting yourself get strung along.

But him using pictures of a well-known, well-loved, heavily-adored celebrity?? Isn’t that, like, really fucking bold? Embarrassing even?

(Almost as embarrassing as you not noticing this, but you don’t let yourself dwell on that part for too long)

The angel on your shoulder reasons that, “maybe he’s still the same person underneath this facade–– he just looks nothing like what he has posted. You could still like him no matter what he looked like, right?”

While the devil swoops in with some hard facts, laughing in pity, “A guy or person who conceals themselves with lies is not worth keeping at all.”

And in this case, you have to agree with that flaming hot truth. You’re ready to fold those fleeting feelings, shove them in a box, and kick ‘em to the curb along with that inner monologue–– but as you said in the very beginning… if you knew you were being fooled from the start, are you really getting hurt?

The goblin of curiosity pulls at your sleeve and offers this funny sentiment, “Knowing this and talking to him should be fine if you establish the fact that you know that ‘this’ isn’t real.”

And that’s where you are now, staring at your phone, at the multitude of double, triple, quadruple texts that have accumulated through the day. You exhale, and draft up a frail response.

You: hey, sorry. I was busy

His answer comes almost too soon even while you were approaching the later hours of a long day.

BB: Hey!, no, no it’s okay. Sorry if i freaked out, I was just worried

You: what, you missed me?

BB: something like that. You’re definitely the best reason I’m checking my phone nowadays, besides work

You: how sweet

BB: actually, I took your advice. I turned on Do Not Disturb at like 9. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders

You: that’s great!

BB: well, I know there’s going to be a shit ton to read in the morning, and I’m still stressed about that. But I guess I’ll get used to it. Gotta save time for myself! 😤🙏(praying emoji)

You: definitely

…

BB: hey, are you okay? You seem distant

You: yeah, no. I’m fine. Just a little tired

…

BB: haha, you’re obviously not. Are you still out? Or back home now?

You: I’m back home, but it’s been a long day

BB: oh, okay! You should head to bed then. Talk to you later?

You: yeah, I guess I should

BB: good night! Sleep tight 😊 (blush smile emoji)

You: good night

The next day goes by with a few more one-sided text exchanges. “Blurry Boy” was really single-handedly carrying each of those conversations–– and while they’re interesting and you’re still replying, you find it hard to bring yourself to believe any of it. It has no real weight anymore, to your life or in application.

You can’t stop thinking about the fact that he’s LYING to you. Straight to your fucking face.

You watch the conversations in the third person and are almost impressed with the lengths that he goes to keep up with the same story. No loss of momentum, the perfect amount of enthusiasm.

But by now, he must suspect something. The way he asks leading questions in an effort to get you to speak more.

Unfortunately for him, you can’t help but be cold in response.

What you don’t realize, is that you want him to ask you what was wrong, one more time. You don’t realize that you want an opportunity to be mad. You want him to give you the chance to be.

So, stop being so fucking nice, blurry boy.

Because you’re not fucking nice at all.

You ignore him for the evening, going out to run some errands so that your hands were actually busy. You silenced your phone as you wound down again for the night, only sparing it a glance at the last second.

There are a few messages waiting for you.

BB: hey, are we okay?

You: we?

BB: yeah, sorry if i’m jumping to conclusions but I’ve felt a little special here. If not, I get it. I’d just like to know

You: you’re definitely something

BB: what’s wrong?

You take a sharp inhale, tucking your hair behind your ears, and sitting up in bed to fully type out your feelings. Your opportunity to be angry is HERE, you can go off and spit words and fight––

You: you’re lying to me, right to my face. It was fine at first, but I still can’t wrap my head around why you’re doing this to me. It feels like we’re playing pretend and just ignoring the fact that there is NO TRUST here at all. I don’t know WHO you are and you haven’t given me any idea of who you could be! You’re using fake pictures and a fake name, and while it’s been fun… there’s nothing here. There’s nowhere “we” could go from here. If you want to continue, I’m going to need SOMETHING from you, if you expect anything from me

You drop your phone in your lap with a satisfying thump. You turn away, stretching and rolling your shoulders back in triumph.

Take that, “T.”

You shut your eyes as you imagine this mystery dude opening his phone to read out an arrow you’re shooting straight at this heart. (And it’s not the good kind). You can’t ignore that it hurts your own feelings it’s a little, not in a way that’s personal but…it’s hollowing. You didn’t know him personally, no, not at all, but a shade of it must have been real. There’s a real person in there, somewhere.

You see the message sit alone, untouched. There’s no bouncing dots like usual, no rapid silly response or praise or affection. And that’s annoying. And that’s annoying that that’s annoying.

But you got the last word in, so, what else can you ask for.

You nudge your phone further away, trying not to expect more. Siting in silence for a beat, pinching your cheeks. God, you hate this self-absorbed, attention-seeking behavior–– but you can’t help it.

You let out an exasperated whine, shaking your body to let go of the lingering vibes. You pick up your phone and snuggle back down into bed, ready to sleep after some idle scrolling.

You’re ready to not have to worry about this thrilling 5-day experience, sure to be embarrassed about it later but… maybe you can make a story out of it. Though, that would only come after a long wink and the accompaniment of alcohol. God, you don’t even want to think about how Liza has probably already told K… Ugh!

PING!

You scramble as you hear the shrill bell tone. Your phone is bouncing in your hands as you half sit-up again.

A message.

You want to ignore it–– but who are you kidding.

BB: can i call you?

…

You stare at it.

Is this an olive branch? Is he reaching out to you to show you that he really wants this? That he cares enough to finally share a fucking piece of himself?

Regardless, the call can only prove that he’s not the guy in the pictures. It’ll only show you that he’s just a guy. If that.

You rake your mind to remember what Tom Holland’s speaking voice sounded like, and immediately kick yourself for even thinking it could actually fucking be him. There’s just no fucking way.

But let’s see how far off this guy is.

You: only for a second.

Your heart thuds unevenly as you prepare yourself–– only you have no idea what to expect. There’s nothing to go off of.

And within the minute that you sent your message, your phone rings. A blank contact comes up, “Blurry Boy” in white letters. You listen to the shrill ringtone, only picking up before it ends.

“Hey.”

There it is, his voice for the first time. It’s sleepy and thick, croaky even. He doesn’t sound like the squeaky and lively Tom Holland you knew from the silver screen. Though, it’s a stretch to even compare the two at all.

“Hey,” you speak demurely. Cool, calm, collected. And you wait. You want him to bring it up himself.

“What, not excited about our first call?”

Your face warms at his straightforwardness–– briefly crumbling under the pressure. Over text you could easily sort yourself out, but here…. you couldn’t hesitate.

“Well, I’m just glad you don’t sound like a 16 year-old boy.”

He laughs breezily, slightly muffled through the phone.

“Hahaha, I told you. I’m 23.”

“Mhm, well the way your voice cracked there really proves it.”

“Hey, come on now.” He laughs again, and you can hear rustling sheets and the faint chatter of music.

His laugh is quite pleasant, raspy and boyish. Familiar even. You want to imagine that he’s wooed by your maturity and confidence, by the way that a lull settles. But it’s more likely that he’s gathering his thoughts, or collecting his courage.

“This…. doesn’t prove anything,” you start slowly. You purse your lips, nervous ticks coming alive even through the phone.

For the moment, you feel shy, but shove it when you remember that he’s lying.

“I still don’t know who you are––“

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry–– I can’t tell you yet, but I trust you.”

“Yeah, you’ve said something like that before.”

”Uhm, yeah–– I… I wanted to call you to show you that I’m real and I care about you.... and I wanted to hear your voice too.”

There was sincerity there, but you don’t let yourself fall for it.

“But how long will it be before I get to see your real face? –– Without meeting you in a dark alley all alone.”

“Hm?”

“My friends are convinced that … you’re lying to me. In more ways that one. With the profile, with the pictures, the name.”

“Oh–– you told you friends–– uhm... Do you think I’m lying?”

“Maybe not all of it, but It’s a big world out there. And–– I don’t know.”

“But seeing my face would clear it up for you?”

He breathes deeply, and you can hear him clear his throat. The sheets rustle again.

“It’d be a start.”

“Mhm.”

“Make or break it, actually,” you manage to chuckle, offering him that relief. You wonder if physical attraction would be a big factor— like obviously, it would be something but…. you’ve come to know him as a person. So, do you care?

(The answer is yes, you do care, but poetically, you could enjoy his company just like this.)

BUT he is lying; if it’s not about one thing, it’s the other.

“It would definitely make me feeling a little bit better. To know that you’re not a monster under the bed, or some creep–– arguable but still.”

“I told you, I’m hot. You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he laughs with a bit of edge, treading the line.

You laugh too, tension easing. He seems like an easygoing guy, willing to be the butt of a joke with confidence.

“That has a totally different effect, hearing you say that out loud. It’s still weird.”

“Well, what do you think I look like? Based off–– based off what you have.”

“Well, I hardly have anything so…. I don’t know. I want to say ‘tall, dark, and handsome,’ but I’m pretty sure you have… fair skin, brown hair and… nice shoulders? That’s all I got.”

“You’re 3 for 3 so far.”

“You’re just saying that.”

Pause.

“Sorry it’s taking so long.”

“Yeah, you’re weird.”

You’ve already flipped the a million possibilities of who he could be. Nothing would even surprise you anymore. But listening to his soothing voice has calmed you like the way his words always have. The conversation flows over you, and you slide deep into your bed.

You pull the covers up over your shoulders, swimming in your thoughts. It shouldn’t be that hard to reveal himself, should it? You’re both investing time into this–– reckless and blind as it may be. You would need to know eventually. You’re not being unreasonable.

Right?

“If…. If I show you my face, properly, will you keep it a secret?” There’s an anxious tone in his light voice. Every syllable ended with uncertainty, as if he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“If you want…? Why?”

“I just… you just need to. Please?”

“Yeah, uhm, I can do that.”

“Thank you,” and there he lets out an airy sigh of relief. You hear rustling again, as if he fell back on the bed. Ha?

You laugh in excitement at his small promise, you rub your eye with your knuckle as you tease,

“What, are you a celebrity or something?”

…

“How did you know?”

“Hahaha, shut uppp, T. I’m joking–– I just want to match a proper face to the person I’m talking to,” your laugh trails off. You swallow softly, “I have your voice now, so… help me piece it together now, please?”

He stays silent, making you second guess the sincerity that you just showed him. Before you can take it back he starts slow and quiet,

“If I do tell you who I am, would you go on a date with me?”

Your heart squeezes, and your clench your toes. This should be no surprise or celebration, to be honest, this is the point of it all. To find love, or at least the next lay.

“Well, that depends if you’re my type,” coy, coy, play it coy.

“I’m everybody’s type.” His voice rolls, deep, rough, ringing in your ears.

You blink, your cheek lifting in a half pointed smile. You return his tone,

“Ok, well, then I dare you. Show me.”

“I will. Are you free on Friday–– Tomorrow?”

“Already setting up a date? You’re getting waaaay ahead of yourself, dude.”

Pause.

“But yeah, sure, I might be free tomorrow.”

“Great,” he laughs at your switching moods. You feel that heat on your face again, shutting your eyes tight, and he offers a bit more,

“Meet me by the beach? 9 PM?”

You scoff softly, he’s pushing it. It’s a public space, kind of not. It’ll be cool, breezy, dark… secluded.

But you could easily let someone know where you’re gonna be, and when to expect you back. Fair enough?

“Hmmm, send me a picture of yourself and I’ll let you know if I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“Think of it as insurance. Or a sneak peak,” you laugh softly, turning your cheek to rub you nose against your pillow.

He lets out a long, dry chuckle, taking a deep breath. You can hear him settle and stretch himself out too, “First thing in the morning. And text me back.”

“Sure!”

“Then... I’ll leave you to it. Good night, Y/N. So lovely speaking to you.” His voice is so heavy and warm, so close to your ear.

You’re almost disappointed that he cut the conversation short. A dark cloud of doubt looms over; maybe he needs time to fabricate a believable photo, maybe he’s nervous, maybe he’s getting cold feet.

You stumble on on what to say as you snap yourself back–– the worrying could be saved for tomorrow. For now, you’ll both savor this short, sweet moment.

“Likewise. Good night, Blurry Boy.”

You hear him exhale softly, and pull the phone away from your ear. You look at it in your hands, feeling your lips purse. Your face is flushed hot, and your stomach flips in anticipation.

Tomorrow.

“No FUCKING way,”

You open your phone first thing in the morning and... low and behold… he actually fucking sent you a picture of Tom Holland. Like he really had the guts to fucking do it.

Come on, Blurry Boy.

This is not real. No way, no way, no fucking WAY.

You heart falls at the thought of losing this ~friendship~ or whatever it is. You put time into this and now its… kind of falling apart at the seams.

You hold your squished cheeks and spin on your heel, wondering if you should show it to Liza or Ry–– to share the incredulous feelings but… You remember The Promise.

It’s not that… big of a deal, especially since this scenario is fake as fuck, but you’d feel guilty. (damn.)

And also ashamed.

You straight up got fucking catfished.

Like he really had you in the snares.

There’s no way that he’s Tom Holland, and even if he “was” there’s no way that Tom would be in your city. And even though he’s a fucking liar–– keeping this a secret for another day or two… wouldn’t hurt anyone.

God.

You fall back onto your couch, legs hanging over the edge as you stare at the picture. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, wondering what to say…

The words come quick.

You: what the fuck, are you joking?

Come on, he had to be pulling your leg. Or expecting you to reply like that. You dont’ know what to think, especially when it takes him an hour or two to reply. Uncharacteristic of him.

BB: I’m really not

You: dude. Shut up. You’re not Tom Holland

BB: I am. And I can prove it. Come see me tonight, please

You have to scoff, nearly throwing your phone across the room. UHM, this has sirens and red flags written all over it. Akskdfdjhfad, like??? There aren’t even words to describe this frustration and obvious deceit.

You: Uhm, no no no. Call me right now

You were more than peeved now, honestly. He promised you honesty and some vulnerability, and this is just fucking stupid.

BB: I’m sorry, I really can’t. I’m out for work right now. Meetings all day. But I PROMISE you that I’m not lying.

Ok, funny. That’s exactly what a liar would say.

You don’t bother replying back, not sure what to even say besides, “Fuck you.” But you figure that silence might be more of a sting than any words you could conjure up.

How many tricks would you fall for? This is stupid, this isn’t fair. There’s nothing to redeem here, it’s over.

He can’t just drop a tremendous bombshell, and act like it’s real??

Who the fuck does he think he is?

There’s no way he’s fucking Spider-Man, dude.

There’s just no fucking way.

FRIDAY NIGHT, AROUND 6 PM

BB: So… what do you think? Will I see you later? 🤞 (fingers crossed emoji)

You: I can’t believe you’re still messaging me and making jokes. This is cruel, dude

BB: I know it seems crazy, but I’m not lying. I can explain everything! But in person would be the easiest way. I’m still running around the city, but meet me at 9

You: bullshit

BB: My name is Tom Holland. I’m taking a break in this city, and I’m looking for someone to spend time with. But I HAVE to lie low. And trust you and I want to see you and I want to spend time with you

You: You know this is fucking insanity right ?? I can’t trust you.

BB: I know, I’m sorry. But I’ll answer anything you want if you come see me

You: i don’t know

BB: well, will i see you later tonight?

…

BB: let me know if you can make it. I’ll be there regardless but…

…

BB: Hope you see you there, Y/N.

You put your phone down squinting. You’re down for taking risks and meeting new people and trying new things–– but this whole thing is just wrong. This is too unreal to even entertain. No matter how many times you say it… It won’t sink in.

He says he can’t call, he can’t send anymore pictures, he can’t facetime–– what’s with the grand reveal and security clearance?

He’s probably gonna eat your fucking face off, that’s why.

You look back at your feet, covered in fuzzy socks. Would you even get out of this blanket burrito to meet A Guy?

(Much less, a guy who definitely wants to wear your skin.)

It’s after classes and work and your social life, you don’t have anything planned for today. Your friends are off on dates with one another doing god knows what, and you’re at home comfy in your holey sweatpants with nothing but the warmth of your laptop and chatter of a TV show you haven’t been paying attention to.

Sigh.

There’s nothing to lose–– you chant over and over. Sometimes, that mentality is what gets you to move forward and try new things. Or gets you into trouble.

Haha.

We all know you’re going to get off your ass and go, but not before checking in with a few people. ‘Cos, you’re not entirely stupid.

“Time for a Tea Party,” you mumble to yourself. You resign to text the more rational of your friends, Liza and Ry.

Liza has the perfect amount of encouragement and honesty, while Ryan has the best common sense and gives expert.

Sorry, K, you’re too protective and sorry, Sam, you’re way to fucking chaotic.

GC: TEA PARTY

Liza: Ur actually going to MEET HIM??? 😱

Ry: you said you weren’t going to get into trouble

You: is he trouble?? Is this bad??

Ry: YES. he could be anyone. Do you even know what he looks like?

You: … not really. He hasn’t told me much about anything. But, this is like a chance to find out?

Liza: oh my god you should go. Just go and get it over with

Ry: I don’t know… this doesn’t sound like a great idea.

Liza: i guess, one of us could come with Y/N?

You: nah, I’ll be fine alone

Ry: you sure? We could hang out somewhere in the back or something

You: no, it’s okay. I’ll just let you now when I go and drop my location with you

Liza: Phew! This is going to be SO messy. I love it. Can’t wait to hear back from you.

Liza: If we hear back from you 👀 (side eye emoji)

You: Ha ha, this is my actual life you know??

Ry: you only live once

Liza: And pls live long enough to tell your friends what happens

You: so supportive

Liza: love you! Wear your cute undies just in case!

Ry: bring pepper spray

You: Got it

You’re thrown into a frenzy. It’s like 7:45 PM now, and you haven’t showered yet, you haven’t decided what you’re going to wear or how you’re going to get there–– and more importantly, you haven’t fucking texted him back yet.

And he hasn’t sent you anything else.

Oh, the mind games.

The way he’s making himself sad and vulnerable, but mysterious and coy.

While you get to choose to be the sucker, or the loser.

Lose, lose with great odds.

You turn on the shower, stepping into the warm steam to clear your mind.

It was made after all, you were going to meet him.

Yeah, you were going. But you still haven’t said anything.

You don’t want him to know–– so you could totally just walk the other way if you see something that you don’t like.

I mean, he knew what you looked like though. Hell, he even compared you to his ex-girlfriend, so… might as well keep the upper-hand and peer from the shadows first.

Or give yourself a head start to run away.

Though, running through sand would definitely be a big fucking obstacle.

You reach the end of the beach, standing atop beaten wooden stairs. The breeze stings your cheek, and it’s a lot colder than you thought it would be.

You’re wearing some dark high-waisted jeans and a simple pair of slip-on sneakers. You didn’t exactly know what “this” was, a date or a revelation or a sacrifice, so, naturally, you didn’t know what to wear.

Haha.

You hug yourself, your thin white billowy top fluttering lightly in the wind. Your fingers clutch at the flowery-embroidered designs on the sleeves, looking a lot like a pure maiden in distress. (Cos you sure as hell are.) You wore light makeup, and your hair was still a bit damp. The salty air was turning it coarse and wavy–– no complaints about that.

You paired this all with the bravest face you could muster

T, Blurry Boy, Tom Holland Imposter dropped this location with you, and figures that it’s on a secluded section of the beach.

You follow well-trodden paths, softly listening to music as you make your way. One earbud in. You should be thinking about a million things right now, but your mind is totally blank.

No expectations, nothing to go off of.

As you near your destination, you look out at the water. The ocean is dark and looming; you can hear her soft waves crash over your soft music. The moon casts a silvery glow, and you can’t see colors anymore. Just white, gray, and black. Shining and still.

It feels calm, like you’re watching a silent movie. Like you’re alone.

Only you’re not.

You see “him.”

A lone shape kicking sand with hands in their pockets. Their hood was up and back facing you.

Great.

You hang back in the distance, weighing your options. You could still leave–– fear fully settling in after you see an actual person where they said they would be. He seems… harmless enough, like a regular guy and–– ah, fuck.

He turns around.

You see him, seeing you.

He pauses, then leans forward to get a better look.

You freeze too, holding your breath.

There’s nowhere left to duck and hide. It’s just you and some piles of fucking sand.

And him.

Oh, god.

The figure raises their hand, fucking waving. Then they start moving towards you, picking their feet up high to trek over the sand.

Fucking hell, you could turn away now but you don’t. You let out a shrill, grating laugh and square up to meet him halfway.

Their shape isn’t getting any clearer–– especially now that they’re facing away from the moon. His face is shadowed and hard to see, but you get close enough to see him.

I––

“Hey!” he excited calls out, catching the shine of his smile…. And…. you’re speechless.

Jaw to the floor, eyes as wide as dinner plates, speechless.

He keeps talking, smiling with his eyes crinkled as he gets very very close to you. You could smell his musky cologne, mixed with ocean spray, and disbelief. His voice is low and coated with tired happiness,

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you came.”

His voice breaks at the end, broken in more ways that you can understand at this moment. You’re just so confused––??

He can’t stop grinning, eyebrows sloping downward as he lets out an airy sigh of relief. He looks up towards the sky for a moment, moonlight catching on his cheeks and nose. Glimmering.

Wait, wait, wait––

When he comes back, he does another thing you can barely wrap you head around–– he hugs you.

He reaches forward, giving you ample time to turn away (but you don’t), and hugs over your shoulders. You felt a human weight on you, the side of his hoodie smushing against your face.

And… you slowly hug back around his waist. Your left hand awkwardly pats his back as he mumbles,

“Sorry, this is too much. Sorry, God. Thank you.”

He doesn’t make any motion of moving away despite his words. You can feel his warmth, and slightly desperation in the embrace; something that feels a lot more intimate than you were prepared for.

“Thank you.”

“It… It’s okay,” you murmur back, doused in shock. And shock is better than terror, right?

You pull away, squinting your eyes and making a face. His hands fall off your shoulders, and quickly shove themselves into his pockets. He gives you a moment. A well needed moment. When you open yourself back up, your brain is able to process a few more things.

He’s standing there in some dark denim jeans, clad in converses, which seems like a horrible decision for the beach, a dark green hoodie pulled up over his head, another horrible decision when you’re meeting someone for the first time on a dark beach, and a denim jacket, enviable. His face is softened and friendly, lips pointed in a gracious smile, while his dark eyes twinkle even in the shade.

He senses your uncertainty as you eyes fan over his face. Your jaw was still hanging open too. He pulls his hood down, ruffling soft brown hair in an inadvertent dramatic reveal. Nice.

He scratches behind his ear, still wearing a gleeful expression,

“So… what do you think?”

What do you think???? What do you think about this situation?? His hair??? The entire man in front of you???

Or the fucking fact that he was who he SAID he was???

I can’t believe this is–– this is––

All manners and social cues and sense exit the building as you stammer brainlessly,

“You’re! You’re–– You’re Tom––”

He nods, confidently, you note. And tilts his head, locks falling over,

“I am.”

“You are.” You breath out, maybe smiling now, you’re not sure. You can’t exactly feel your face anymore.

Your head tilts in the same direction as his, your hair falling over your collar. His eyes follow those fallen strands, before locking back with yours,

“I’m Tom Holland. ‘I told you so,’ and it’s nice to formally meet you.”

Tom Holland.

The brunette bites his lip before smiling neatly as he gets close to your again. No personal space with this guy. He sticks a hand out for you to shake.

You’re looking from the outside in as you take his hand, bobbing softly. You’re trained on the sight of his thumb holding the side of your hand, rubbing softly.

You find your way back to his face.

Exactly like the movies.

The wind blows and he turns to the side, showing you the sharp cut of his jaw, and his eye-shut-tight expression.

Better, actually.

“H… Hey, Tom. Nice to meet you too,” you finally fumble. You shake your head slightly, trying to regain that calm, collected, confidence you practiced so hard on the way here. You want to say more, but you can’t fathom what would come next,

“Uhm, sorry, I’m… still processing.”

Tom nods, bobbing his whole body, as he takes a step forward. His smile points devilishly, way too easily. His eyebrows twitch before settling, as he lowers his head, hitting you with some sultry jaw-clenching and puppy dog eyes.

“Take your time.”

You laugh, tonguing your cheek. He does too, and you share a starry stare.

The waves crash in the distance, a white noise you were glad to have. A welcome distraction from your loudly beating heart. Something to close the gap of silence––

Only Tom couldn’t handle the lapse of quiet, after all, he gets paid $$$ by the minute. He starts conversationally, knowing exactly how to stir up your already swirling emotions.

Light, teasing, reeling you in, the brilliant boy flashes you a toothy grin and spares not a single ounce of chill,

“So… am I your type?”

Holy fucking fuck shit god damn.

You just got catfished by Tom Holland.

A/N: WELL, reader has been caught in the net. What do you think, is “Tom Holland” /our/ type? Adfasjdl, the whole concept of this is so funny lol. Can u imagine seeing the man you saw movies screens… waiting for you in person??? Unfathomable. Anyway, sorry the past two chapters have just been build up,, there’s gonna be a lot of mushy stuff coming up soon. Thanks for your patience!

It’s really hard to find time to write, but yeah taking smaller chunks like this makes it easier for me. Expect updates every 1-2 weeks, usually around Sat-Mon nights. Thanks so much for keeping up!

And you know what to do, please like and comment and reblog! It keeps me going :)

All my love,

Madmadmilk 🥰

** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks!

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thewidowstanton · 3 years

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The Widow’s best of 2020

Well… during a year when we haven’t been able to see many live shows we’ve still managed to find lots of things we loved. Here are some of them; live shows are indicated, otherwise we watched them online – our grateful thanks go to all the companies that streamed their productions for free – listened to them or read them. You’ll notice that our list includes lots of women and the occasional man.

But before that we start with a new category…

PERSON OF THE YEAR: Circus director Carol Gandey (pictured) of Gandeys Circus. If UK touring circus – an artform championed by The Widow’s Liz Arratoon for more than 25 years – is to survive Covid-19, it will be in large part to her. Gandeys had produced three shows before the UK’s March lockdown, two of which never had a chance to open, incurring hundreds of thousands of pounds in costs. It then provided accommodation and living expenses for 33 stranded artists, and meanwhile developed an air-flow working model for circus – trialling an opening at Butlins – which gave the government enough confidence to allow circuses to reopen with reduced seating capacities.

Carol constantly lobbied the government and the Arts Council for aid – as did other industry figures – and her application to the Arts Council Recovery Fund, which was said to be exceptional, resulted in a £1.1 million grant; the largest amount awarded to any UK circus company. Gandeys used some of the money to cover the losses due to the lockdown, and to fund a survival package that included some reduced-capacity performances this autumn, as well as funding the production costs for reopening in 2021.

From one strong and inspirational woman to another…

BEST EXTRAVAGANZA: Rhianna’s Savage X Fenty Volume 2 TV special for her lingerie range. Wow! What a mix! This was an explosion of creativity; part fashion show, part dance show, part gig, part circus, part ad, and included a simply stunning floral set. Add a cast of big names, a wonderfully diverse choice of dancers and models, no expense had been spared. Exciting, fresh and really impressive.

BEST LIVE SHOW: Zebra, a solo show by juggling genius Wes Peden, which was part of the London International Mime Festival at the Southbank Centre’s Purcell Room.

BEST CIRCUS SHOW: The really inventive CAPAS by Circo Eia (pictured) – so great to see so many new ideas, and here’s our chat with cast member Francesca Lissia. Plus the intricate and dazzling Twenty Twenty by Gandini Juggling.

BEST DANCE SHOW: Faust by the Ballets de Monte-Carlo, featuring the spectral Bernice Coppieters (pictured) as Death; and Cia de Dança Deborah Colker’s super-stylish Belle, inspired by the novel Belle de Jour.

BEST KIDS’ SHOW: Little Angel Theatre’s hat trilogy, presented by puppeteer Ian Nicholson; an adaptation of the picture books by Jon Klassen: I Want My Hat Back, This Is Not My Hat and We Found a Hat.

BEST COSTUME: The Widow has always considered costumes to be extremely important. As Federico Fellini said: “Don’t forget that costumes, like dreams, are symbolic communication,” and frankly we wish more artists would make the sort of effort Dua Lipa made on Saturday Night Live!

Staying with costumes… slightly less glamorous, but an effort was made by Hot Mess in party-sketch work-in-progress Dirty Stop Outs.

MOST EXCITING: Meeting Marina Abramović in the foyer at London’s Barbican before the Efterklang gig.

BEST SHOWGIRLS: Seen in the 1972 film Un Flic; costumes by Colette Baudot. Also featured is a stunning black dress, worn by Catherine Deneuve, designed by Yves Saint Laurent.

BEST BURLESQUE: Lady of Burlesque, starring Barbara Stanwyck, who wears costumes by the great Edith Head.

BEST FILM CREDITS: Sudden Fear, starring Joan Crawford as a scorned – but impeccably dressed – woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown!

BEST CASTAWAY: Hard to choose between Rupert Everett, Ian Wright or Daniel Radcliffe, who all washed up on BBC Radio 4′s Desert Island Discs.

BEST SHOWBIZ STORY: Catherine Russell – on Outlook, BBC Radio 4 – who has played the same role for 32 years and said the same lines more than 13,000 times. She holds the world record for the most theatre performances in the same role; Margaret Thorne Brent – a psychiatrist who might also be a cold-blooded killer – in the off-Broadway play Perfect Crime.

BEST TV SERIES: It was a close call with The Queen’s Gambit, but our choice is the utterly brilliant My Brilliant Friend; the adaptation of Elena Ferrante’s series of Neapolitan novels.

BEST DOCUMENTARY: The Bee Gees – How Can You Mend a Broken Heart.

BEST CABARET PIC: The ever-lovely Eve Ferret at the Crazy Coqs in London. Picture: @marc_t_albert

BEST SHOWBIZ MEMOIR: John Cooper Clarke’s I Wanna Be Yours.

BEST SHOWBIZ BIOGRAPHY: Jon Gresham: The Life and Adventures of a Sideshow Showman, Fire-Eater and Magician by Edwin A Dawes, Pat Gresham and Jon Marshall. This is a painstakingly detailed and enthralling account of Gresham’s life, lovingly compiled by his widow and friends from material written by Gresham himself. Want one? Details below.

BEST SHOWBIZ AUTOBIOGRAPHY: The heartbreaking Everything and Nothing: The Dorothy Dandridge Tragedy by Dorothy Dandridge and Earl Conrad. The revealing autobiography of Hollywood’s first African-American sex symbol and screen legend.

BEST GIG: Sevdaliza’s only show this year, streamed live from The Hague's Koninklijke Schouwburg (Royal Theatre) to a global audience.

BEST SONG: Désormais by Charles Aznavour, which was used as the title track for the film Chambre 212 or On a Magical Night.

BEST ALBUM COVER: Charles Aznavour’s Désormais. That hat!

MOST CHARMING: The sheep invasion during Isabella Rossellini’s show Sex and Consequences, which was streamed live from her farm in Bellport, Long Island, USA. Yes, her live sheep!

BEST TWITTER CIRCUS PIC: The stunning Crystal Pyramids by Severus posted by @PablosCircus.

BEST LIVE COMEDY: Myra Dubois – star of Britain’s Got Talent – at The Poodle Club in Sydenham. Some of us recognised the greatness of Rotherham’s finest before she was famous!

GONE TOO SOON: Actor Chadwick Boseman (pictured) at just 43, funnymen Eddie Large, Tim Brooke Taylor and Bobby Ball, and dancer, choreographer and actor Ann Reinking.

MOST MISSED: Davenports magic shop that closed at the end of January – but you luckily can still order from it online – and a more recent casualty, after 96 years, London’s beautiful Café de Paris.

MOST DISAPPOINTING: Madonna’s Madame X show at the London Palladium. Goodness, this was shoddy! She was so incapacitated that she simply marked all the dance moves and had to be helped around the set, and up and down the stairs. The tickets were exorbitantly expensive and no one paid to see someone hobbling about onstage. We paid to see Madonna!

But let’s not end on a sour note…

BEST SHOWBIZ MASK: Shirley Bassey’s fabulous sequinned number!

REASONS TO BE CHEERFUL: Some things we’re looking forward to include: The 45th London International Mime Festival, which will be screening free-to-view videos of shows from past LIMF editions, running an extended workshop series with live and online classes, and hosting a series of talks.

We’re also awaiting the new series of Call My Agent, which starts on Netflix on 21 January 2021.

And, last but by no mean least, one of the world’s truly funny clowns, Gloria – also known as Mooky Cornish – has been busy training her chickens – Kukuruzza (pictured top), who has been taking piano lessons, and the athletic Galina – and will be touring the Canadian prairies with them next summer. Now that’s something we’d love to see! Picture: Nichole Huck

Better days ahead!

*Jon Gresham book is available via PayPal from [email protected]: P&P incl, UK – £25, EU – £30, USA tracked – $52

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kutemouse · 4 years

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And Then He Was Gray (Part Three)

Disclaimer: I edited the pic I used for my header, but the OG pic belongs to BTS & BigHit.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (Not just a recommendation, kuties!)

Warnings: Swears, goddammit. Consumption of alcohol, bikinis and topless boys, pool party, JIHOPE, ass-grabbing, sexual tension x 7 billion, making out, JIN, JIN, AND MORE JIN.

Word Count: 1,943

Summary: Your best friend Jeon Soyeon invites you to a kick-back with all of her friends and their significant others, intent on hooking you up with someone. Everyone seems taken, though, until he arrives, wearing a star-studded, gray top that makes your mouth water.

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And Then He Was Gray (Jin One-Shot, Smut, Fluff) Part Three

Soyeon made me change first before changing into a skimpy, little navy blue bikini herself. “That barely covers your ass,” I advised as she walked out of the bathroom.

“Really?” she said, turning around and examining her butt. “Perfect.”

I rolled my eyes, quickly grabbing a lacy, kimono-type cover-up and throwing it over myself before Soyeon dragged us both out of the bedroom. Hobi and Jimin stumbled out of the bedroom next to us, giggling like crazy. Hobi reached out and grabbed a handful of Jimin’s ass, squeezing hard before capturing his boyfriend’s full lips in a passionate kiss.

“I need to get laid,” Soyeon sighed, causing them to break apart and laugh.

“Don’t worry, So-So,” Hobi said, winking. “You’ll get some tonight, I just know it. Bet you will too, Y/n.”

“Wh-What?” I stuttered.

“Jin likes you,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Soyeon squealed. “Told you!”

“I seriously doubt that,” I muttered, thinking about our brief interaction in the basement. Would he still be interested after I acted so cold?

“Trust, Y/n. I just talked to him, and believe me when I say he’s never talked about a girl after meeting them the way he talked about you,” Hobi said. “He even remembered your name.”

Hobi gave me an up-down glance, smirking as he surveyed my bare legs and waist. “And when he sees you in that bikini, trust me, he’ll be all over you.”

“Eyes up here,” I snapped as Hobi’s eyes roamed over my cleavage.

“Hey,” Jimin protested.

Hobi tugged Jimin close to him. “Trust me babe, she’s not my type,” he murmured before sensually nipping at the skin of Jimin’s neck, causing his boyfriend to sigh in pleasure.

“You guys are something else,” I said, shaking my head.

We reached the backyard to see pretty much everyone else there, some sitting on the pool’s edge with just their feet in and others already swimming. Soyeon ran up to the pool and gracefully dove in. I looked to the side and saw Miyeon watching her, biting her lip as if trying to hold herself back as Soyeon emerged, hair slicked back. “Come on in,” she said, holding her hand out to Miyeon. “The water’s great!”

Miyeon hesitated before jumping in right beside Soyeon. “Atta girl,” I thought, smiling to myself. “Get some.”

I glanced around and noticed a couple of people were still missing. “Where are Taehyung and Yuqi?” I asked aloud as I sat and dipped a foot in the pool.

Jimin rolled his eyes, settling in on my right. “Where do you think?”

I shuddered. “Actually, I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, it’s probably less scarring that way.”

Yoongi and Soojin were sitting on my left, quietly watching the others with her head on his shoulder, while Namjoon and Minnie were already in the hot tub, giggling and stealing kisses here and there. Jungkook and Shuhua were also nowhere to be seen, and neither was the one person I actually wanted to talk to.

I stood up, deciding to take a little walk. I got no more than ten feet away when he appeared in front of me in nothing but a pair of black swim shorts. Jin’s eyes slid down my body, starting from my eyes, catching on my partially-exposed breasts, then roaming down to my bare waist before flicking back up to my eyes. I’d never felt so exposed in my life. “Hey,” he said, taking a step closer. “Y/n, right?”

So much for remembering my name. “Yeah. Jin, right?”

“Right.”

Now it was my turn to check him out. My gaze roamed over his broad shoulders, lingering over his tight, toned abs, and the subtle lines of muscle that drew my eyes below his waistline. His perfect, pink mouth was drawn upwards in a smirk. I unconsciously bit my lip, thinking how good those lips would feel against my skin.

Jin drew close and pressed his thumb against my bottom lip, drawing it out from between my teeth. “That’s my job,” he murmured. Heat flooded through me, wetting my core and causing every muscle in my body to clench.

I scoffed, pulling away slightly. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But I know about you. I make you nervous, yeah?”

I didn’t answer, my cheeks so hot they felt like they were on fire.

Leaning down, his lips lightly brushed against the shell of my ear. “Good,” he whispered. Tingles shot down my nerves, making me shiver despite the warm summer air.

Jin drew back, still smirking, and stalked over to the hot tub where everyone else had congregated. He sat, putting his feet in the bubbling water, before turning to look at me. He flicked his eyes to the ground next to him, and I swallowed hard before coming over and sitting where he indicated. Jin nonchalantly pressed his palm into the ground behind me, effectively pinning me to his side, as the group engulfed him in their conversation. Mesmerized, I watched his lips as he talked and melted under his smile as he laughed. “What about you, Y/n?” Namjoon asked.

“Wh-What?” I stuttered, tearing my gaze away from Jin.

“Where do you go to school?”

“Oh, I don’t. My family owns a restaurant, and I’m waiting for my brother to get back and help out so I can go to university. He’s been studying culinary arts out of the country. I’ll probably do the same.”

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Soojin said, speaking for the first time since we’d met. “I love cooking. What type of food does your restaurant serve?”

“Authentic Korean cuisine” I said proudly. “Have been for four generations now.”

“Okay, it’s settled. Next kick-back, you’re in charge of food,” Yoongi joked, pointing at me.

Everyone laughed and moved on to another topic, but Jin’s eyes never left my face. “I also love to cook,” he murmured.

“That’s… cool,” I said weakly. “Maybe sometime we could… cook for each other.” God, could I get any more pathetic? That was the lamest excuse for a date I’d ever thought up.

To my surprise, Jin smiled. “That sounds fun.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. I’d love to get to know you more.”

Before my blush could deepen any further, Jin leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Listen,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go inside and start cleaning up. I think the night is drawing to a close, and everyone else looks a little… busy.”

I turned, seeing Minnie and Namjoon kissing deeply, as well as noticing Yoongi’s hand tracing lazy circles over Soojin’s thigh as he murmured something in her ear. Soyeon was tugging Miyeon upright, giggling, and Jimin and Hobi were already walking towards the house, hands roaming all over each other.

I sighed. Just as I predicted. Everyone was pairing off, and I was left being the most single singleton there ever was. “Want to help me?” Jin asked.

I looked at him in surprise. “Sure.”

The water splashed as he withdrew his feet and stood up, holding out his hand to me. I grasped it, and he easily drew me upright. Once we were both standing, he didn’t let go of my fingers. I felt rather small next to him, but I think that had more to do with his overbearing sexual presence than our heights. Jin led the way, still holding my hand, opening the sliding glass door and slipping through. I followed, and we quietly started putting food into containers.

“I’m always the one cleaning up,” Jin sighed, breaking the silence. “Everyone else is so wrapped up in their SO’s, they wouldn’t even notice if the food sat out all night.”

I chuckled. “I believe it.”

Once the food was put away, Jin turned and leaned against the counter, his hands grasping the edge of it behind him. I had to turn away once I realized his torso was still bare. The temptation of his abs drawing taut and his arm muscles flexing was almost too much to bear. “I-I should probably get h-home,” I stuttered. “Soyeon said she might stay the night, I’ll just text her and–”

“Turn around,” he commanded, cutting me off.

I couldn’t disobey even if I wanted to, but I still kept my eyes on the ground.

“Look at me.”

I bit my lip as I looked up into Jin’s dark, piercing eyes. He closed the distance between us in one stride and once again pressed his thumb into my bottom lip, drawing it out from between my teeth. “Didn’t I say that was my job?” he said, his tone stern.

“Fuck,” I thought, feeling my legs turn to jelly. He knew. There was no way he didn’t know.

“Don’t bite your lip again… unless you want to be punished.”

I shook my head fiercely, feeling myself slip. “No, I-I’ll be good.”

Jin smirked. “I know you will.”

He wrapped his hands around my waist and squeezed, lifting me onto the counter. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” he murmured, nudging my thighs apart with a knee, his dark eyes boring into mine as he pressed his body into my core.

“Y-Yes,” I stuttered.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Jin.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “C’mon, baby girl. I know you know what I want to be called.”

I gulped, hoping my voice wouldn’t come out as shaky as I felt. “Yes… Sir.”

Jin let out a deep groan. “Good girl.”

He leaned down and pressed his full lips against my neck, flicking his tongue out for a taste and causing goosebumps to break out all over my skin. I threw my head back and moaned.

“Do you know your colors?” Jin murmured against my skin.

I nodded, unable to speak from finally obtaining the pleasure I didn’t know I’d been craving. “Words, baby girl,” he muttered before tracing his tongue over my sweet spot once more.

“Yes,” I gasped. “I do.”

“What’s your color now?”

“Green. So green it’s not even funny.”

Jin chuckled before drawing back and pressing his forehead to mine. “I knew you were my type of girl the second I laid eyes on you,” he murmured. “My friends have been trying to get me with someone ever since my break-up over a year ago. Unfortunately, none of those girls ever understood my needs.”

“I do,” I said breathlessly. “I know exactly what you need.”

Jin was so close now our breathes intermingled every time we exhaled. His gaze flickered between my lips and my eyes as he hooked his fingers under the fabric of my cover-up and slid it slowly down my shoulders. I shivered and gasped as air hit my bare skin. Jin was in total control of the situation, and he knew it. I saw how he relished in the way he was making me desperately compliant.

Finally, Jin grasped the back of my neck and kissed me, completely enveloping my lips with his full, pink ones. The push and pull between my mouth and his settled into a steady rhythm as we hungrily devoured each other, our thirst finally being quenched after what felt like miles of desert. Each time his lips met mine, Jin flicked out his tongue to taste me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his middle, eliciting a groan from him as I drew him as close as possible. His hands slid up and down my naked waist, dipping down to my hips, then around my body to squeeze my barely-covered ass.

“Hey guys.”

We broke apart, and despite me roughly pushing Jin away in embarrassment, he kept his arms firmly wrapped around me.

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BWAHAHA who do you think interrupted them?? 😏 Part Four is here!

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dropsofletters · 5 years

Text

it’s a match!

title: it’s a match! pairing: johnny seo/reader genre: tinder!au/photographer!au summary: ten has a slight obsession with his newest dating app: tinder. it is only convenient that he gets his single friends into it. johnny, personally, thinks of it as a way to release stress and get a good laugh, but when one of his tinder matches ends up being one of his clients, things suddenly change for the two of them. type: fluff note: thank you to si-chengs here on tumblr (goddamn tumblr and not letting me tag people dAMN) for editing this picture and helping me with my fic’s header. you’re the real mvp, ily<3 all credits for this edit go to her!

It’s when Johnny Seo gets bored that his best friend gets the worst of ideas.

Dongyoung, the third part of their group of friends, is more intelligent and less chill than he is, so he always says no to Ten’s ideas, but Johnny finds that having just that slightest bit of newness in life isn’t so wrong after all. It is a Sunday night and the fan of his apartment is blowing the papers of the notebook he is supposed to be reading for some presentation he has at work, but instead, he is lost in his phone trying to find a new app to download. Sure, social media is fine—a great distraction method to keep him scrolling and scrolling, watching videos of food he wants to eat, writing direct messages to the friends he can’t see personally anymore and of course, going into the deepest parts of the web that shows things that he would like to un-see. Maybe, in a good day, he gets a good cat video. But it is a Sunday, a boring one at that, and as he keeps scrolling through Instagram all he sees are the same set of pictures. Food. Pictures of his cousins. Old funny pictures.

A whiff of a cologne that is too sweet for anyone’s liking, but extremely expensive, indicates the entrance of Ten. Johnny does not know what his roommate was doing previously, he feels like Ten told him, but his mind can’t quite wrap around it. With an elongated groan as he throws his head back on the sofa’s headrest, he sees that Ten is drying his hair with a towel, shirt disregarded somewhere, new pants highlighting his waist and he, altogether, looks put together and…better than he does when at home.

Not only that, but Ten is smiling at his phone. He does smile often, of course, a machine of jokes and a lot of teasing, but Ten very rarely has that cheesy smile. The type of smile he gives to the people he wants to sleep with, or go out on a date with in a special occasion. His lips quirk up a little bit less, his cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink and he quirks one of his eyebrows, almost as if in awe, the excitement and thrill of flirting getting the best of him. “What are you doing?” Johnny asks, looking down at his basketball shorts to see a mustard stain at the very edge. Fuck, he had eaten a burger earlier and somehow, he has a stain now.

“Talking to my Tinder match.”

Tinder, Johnny recognizes the name of the app, and he would have smiled if only he wasn’t so bored. He remembers the night when Ten first mentioned it, saying that he had the hook-up of his life thanks to a Tinder match, and he did not even have to talk all that much. Soon after, Dongyoung had visited them and Ten had somehow convinced Dongyoung to create an account. It didn’t last long, considering Ten had tried to explain the ‘art of being a seductive man without sending dick-pics’ and Dongyoung immediately took his phone away from the man and deleted the app.

Dating apps are not his thing. Dongyoung and dating sounds impossible, too, he is just…Kim Dongyoung. In Johnny’s eyes, he is a single mother that loves watching reality shows and listening to pop songs.

Johnny doesn’t care. Yet, here he is—bored and curious, entertained by the sight of Ten being happy, ready for his night out. “Oh,” He says first before sighing. “Is Tinder fun?”

His black haired roommate looks up from his phone, locks it and puts it inside his pants before rummaging through the small pile of clothes he has in the living room from the laundry he just did that morning. He is just too tired to put it in his closet, or rather, too busy. “Yeah, I guess, for lazy people who are just too tired to look for someone or…people who don’t know how to look for someone.” Ten clicks his tongue when he finds just the shirt he wants, pulling the fabric of the sweater over his body, speaking through the action. “Not for someone like you. You actually look like you can get dates.”

Johnny tilts his head to one side, then the other. “I can…and I do…” His confidence doesn’t falter, and Ten shrugs his shoulders, but before his roommate could get too far away, he stretches his hand to grip Ten’s wrist. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t create an ironic Tinder account. Just for the laughs, you know.”

Whether Ten thinks about it for a second or two, or not, is not noticeable. The motion he does to get beside Johnny on the couch is quick, taking Johnny’s phone from his hands and immediately downloading the app. It is as if he only wanted to have more of his friends getting into the world of online dating, and maybe it is a really good choice, just like how it can be a bad one. “Yeah, that’s what I said and now I can’t get out of it.”

“That’s because you don’t like putting a lot of effort into relationships.”

His friend huffs at that. “That’s right…” He confesses, moving his fingers across the screen as he searches for a set of pictures. “I don’t want to hit it up with a selfie first, it’d look like you don’t have any friends—oh, maybe not one of the professional pictures you have either, you’d look like a catfish.” Johnny’s cheek is pressed against the sofa, looking at Ten’s doings with little to no interest. All he wants to do is annoy some people, not particularly get some classes from a self-proclaimed love master. The warmth of the room is more palpable by the closeness of her friend and the scent of his cologne is giving him a headache. “I think this picture of you is perfect.”

Johnny looks at that one picture he had taken driving a fake car in some arcade and he smiles. It shows his personality, taking himself seriously when he is funny, but also living his life like he doesn’t care. The picture would give the thought of someone who doesn’t care about what people around him think. “Oh, oh, can we add one of those descriptions people have on Tinder?”

“You kind of have to.” Ten mumbles and then he picks a few other pictures randomly before clearing his throat. “What do you want in your bio?” Before Johnny could respond, Ten speaks over him. It is a habit of his, to always think he knows everything, and to add a little bit of mischief to everything he does. “I think something like ‘Johnny, knows two languages and can speak the language of love’ would be pretty ironic.”

Johnny pushes his plump lips up, rosy like buds and a little bit chapped. Instead of working on his Tinder profile, he should be hydrating himself and probably preparing dinner. “Too lame for me,” He says. “I am thinking more of ‘this is a picture of me driving, and I can drive you crazy.’”

“And you call my idea lame?” Ten questions, squinting his eyes with the action before shrugging his shoulders. It is not like he cares all that much about Johnny’s active dating lifestyle. “Okay, so…this is a picture of me driving. I know how to drive a car and…” The shorter man starts typing on the screen before that part is completed. “Anything else?” Johnny shakes his head, a lazy smile plastered on his face when Ten adds a few other bits of information before delivering his phone back.

“Is that all?” The taller asks and Ten licks his lips before nodding his head. He doesn’t say much, simply asks if he looks alright, something that Johnny confirms just before diving in the complexities of Tinder.

If the story is ever told from someone’s point of view other than his, it might sound extremely biased, but Johnny did exactly what would be considered wrong in Tinder: swiping right for everyone just to play around. Not in the sense of hook-ups, or maybe yes, but after he actually has some fun with it. All he wants to do is confuse people, and that is what he does. Whenever someone sends him a message, he responds with the most obnoxious and teasing of texts, pretending to be different types of stupid people with every person.

Really, he came up with a variety of characters. The conceited rich kid that thinks he’s better than everyone else. The guy who is into questionable shit. That one guy that can’t spell things correctly and probably ends up in some Instagram page, or YouTube video. Johnny has the time of his life, barely realizing that Ten goes out with a wave of his hand and a smile that speaks cheekiness. Everything that rolls through Johnny’s mind is making the dull night into something better.

Then, his eyes settle on a person that had matched him, realizing that that one brain-cell that keeps him making fun of people in the Tinder app suddenly becomes aware of what it is. A dating app, perhaps not the best of creations to some, but he could use it for what it really is. He sees the woman in the picture, dark lipstick coating her lips, eyelashes thick with mascara and a pouty look in her picture that she took of herself that had Johnny looking at the rest of the pictures she had displayed. Gorgeous body, deserving of all the praise in the world with how she makes his heart race in the matter of seconds, biting his bottom lip as he ponders, wonders, questions what to say because he doesn’t really want to ruin this opportunity.

The good thing about Johnny is that he knows he is funny, and he uses that to his advantage, so with an opening joke he starts the conversation. Only a few seconds pass by and he receives a thoughtful emotion before a small: “Sorry, didn’t understand the joke, hah.” shows up on his phone. Johnny hisses to himself, trying not to cringe at his own stupidity before typing once again.

“Bad joke, my bad.” He continues. “What’s up, gorgeous?” Apparently, he wants to be as direct as he can be and that has always served him in real life. Dating apps might be a little bit different, but he can always turn things to go his way.

It takes a few minutes for her to respond, and Johnny takes that time to make himself a sandwich, swiping mayonnaise on the bread as he looks at his phone and luckily for him, she answers as quick as possible. “Doing homework. You?”

Johnny smiles to himself. A difficult one, but there is not much of a dare that can go over who Johnny Seo is, so he tries again. “Eating a sandwich. Mine are the best, I wish you could try them.” Not that she would realize it is a lie, because the bland sandwich with some chicken leftovers from earlier and mayonnaise is not really what he calls a good sandwich, but one, she did not need to know that, and two, it’s just a bad day for his will to make something good.

“Some guys would invite me out to dinner…and you invite me to have a sandwich.” A bunch of laughing emoticons follow soon after and Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich before licking his lips clean.

“Glad to stand out thanks to something, then.” Johnny replies and then, he types her name in the form of a question. “Sounds like the name of a woman who wouldn’t mind a sandwich for dinner, with some candles to make it all romantic.”

The response has him laughing as he leans back on the counter, his back a little hunched in the small space that Ten dares to call a kitchen. The apartment is nicely decorated, thanks to Ten’s money and touch when picking furniture, but the size of the apartment is made for people around Ten’s height, not exactly Johnny’s. Although, he does not consider himself all that tall. His apartment is made for tiny people, is what he likes to say. “Johnny sounds like the name of a guy who could do better. Try again.”

“I’m joking.” He says.

“I knew so.” Her response has a small laugh at the end that makes it flirty, and he can imagine her, probably trying to find something to distract her from the meticulous task. “That’s what caught my attention from your profile: your sense of humor.”

“Not my dashing good looks?”

“Yeah, those work, too.”

“So, what are we doing for our date?”

The texts come quickly, as if she has completely forgotten about the fact that she has homework to do. Perhaps an essay that is halfway done, or some project that needs too much glue and colors. All he knows is that he doesn’t really mind, but he should. “You’re already asking me out on a date?” Before Johnny can reply, she continues her text. “I like the sun and fresh juice, so that’s for you to pick.”

Luckily for Johnny, he knows a good place by the beach and it sells the best food he has tried in a while, so he sends her the name of said restaurant and much to his surprise, she recognizes it. Johnny thinks that the moon has always orbited to get to where he wants it to be, never too high, never too low, always perfect to downcast over him. Perhaps, he did it for fun—to create a Tinder account, but Johnny always gets blessed by an opportunity that he knows how to take. In this case, he has a day, an hour and a person to take care of.

All he knows is that Ten is right. No strings attached and also a place to joke around with people? Tinder might have gotten a good place in his heart, by now.

That can be shown through the midnight talk he has with her, getting to know this stranger that has a smirk on his face. Johnny is assured he will have a nice time.

Movies do tend to exaggerate things, quite obviously. Put a scriptwriter, creative but in the cliché sense that leaves people with a handful of movies that are clearly similar, with a director that has a set image on how to show things and a cameraperson, along with a producer and many other staff members that set up a good film. Most are not good, quite clearly, but it all depends on tastes. There are tropes that are overused, like how in rom-coms the meeting of two people tends to be in slow motion, with shared stares that hold interest, palms that join in a calloused touch before going into the full hug. Some kisses are lame, others are more passionate, some don’t even include kisses just to leave people hanging.

Or even worse, some thrillers paint situations like the ones he is in as the start of a never-ending set of events that leave people twisted like a pastry of sorts, but that is not the case. He is in the very public, slightly crowded restaurant, watching his phone as he sits at one of the woodened tables, the open space and the sound of the sea leaving a smile to his face, though it is not visible, but not all happiness needs to be shown like a Las Vegas sign in the middle of the night. She is not there, of course, but he remembers all the things—or most of them—she had told him in the week they had been talking for. He knows what her major is, what she works as, some of her music tastes, her favorite movie and a handful of her flirty remarks. The attraction in there, though not palpable, vivid, trembling, asking to be touched, to be marked, to be an existing occurrence of popular behalf. All they need to do is act up on it, on the promises in between cheeky sentences, and the kisses that they have yet to share.

Or not, that is the good thing about a date—you finally confirm just how real the things people said are. Johnny is good at reading people, so he thinks, not good enough to judge, but just the perfect amount of right to know what he needs to get involved in. He looks at his phone once again, reading a text that says she is on his way, but that was already fifteen minutes ago.

Not to say that Johnny is impatient, but he might be.

Awkwardly, he taps his foot against the flooring, his white t-shirt and shorts seeming good for a day at the beach, but not quite for a date. Does he care? Maybe at the depth of his thoughts, but he knows he looks good. Black hair parted in the middle, sunglasses covering his eyes in style, lips rosy thanks to chap-stick. All he needs is the title of the hot bodyguard in a movie, not that he is a good actor to start with, in his own opinion.

When he meets her, it’s not one of those slow motion moments. She doesn’t walk to him in counted steps, quite the contrary, she rushes and pushes her hair away from her face, the summery dress she is wearing leaving a little bit to the imagination, flowy and floral-y in the most perfect of ways. Johnny is awestruck, seeing her dark lipstick changed to a sweet coat of pink, eyes sparkly instead of filled with passion. Although, she is visually a goddess in disguise, Johnny can say that there is absolutely cuteness to her, one that he would have never thought she had. A messy smile when she sits down, apologizes before she can even say her greetings, and she flinches a bit when she accidentally touches his naked calves under the table with the tip of her foot. She says a lot, rushes through the words, loses that title of an Incubus as he had thought of her, and suddenly becomes the sweet, old, romantic Cupid.

She looks up from the menu splayed on the woodened table, blinks softly before releasing a smile that has Johnny returning it. There is not enough beauty he can hold, so he wants to give her back what she does to his fluttering feelings, the emotions that come with a first date. “I don’t mind. I know traffic was heavy today.” The nervousness dissipates from her face and for a moment, he realizes the flustered expression she holds is adorable enough to remember. One leg crossed over the other, she responds.

“I am sorry. I tend to ramble and…either way,” She cuts herself off before interlocking her fingers together. He knows she is studying him, from the way her eyes rake up and down his features. For a moment, she looks at his biceps, swallows hard and smiles softly. “I’m glad you’re real, Johnny, I thought you were going to be an old man that wants to have a sugar baby.”

He doesn’t know much about the terms, or he didn’t, until Ten decided to teach him the wicked ways of Tinder. Johnny is surprised, to say the least, present because he continues to be and he chuckles at the thought of a fidgety woman that stands by the restaurant looking for the man in the pictures she saw. “You’re pleased with what you see, then?”

When he thinks of it, it is a flirty comment to start the date right, to give her a big green flag that indicates he is up for a few kisses, some caresses, and whatever that leads to, but she seems flustered. Biting down on her bottom lip, she looks at the menu and trails her nail over it before pressing her palm to her face. “I, uh…you’re starting off strong, aren’t you?”

“Go hard, or go home.”

“That’s so frat boy of you.”

“You know I’m not a frat boy.”

She flutters her eyelashes, leaning her head on her palm and sighing. “Talk to me about photography and I’ll trust you on that.”

Johnny quirks an eyebrow, interested, leaning forward on his elbows and soon after, he speaks. “Alright, alright…” He repeats, trails his voice in a way that has her looking down at his lips. “But invite me to a drink first.” He feigns innocence, pressing one hand to his chest and making her chuckle.

“Passion fruit juice sounds great to you?”

Johnny widens his eyes comically. “Passion fruit?” He asks, highlighting the word in a way that has her throwing her head back in laughter. “We’re going for passion here. Whew, what a wild card we have right over here—”

She tilts her head to the side, shaking her head before licking her lips. “I’m hungry. Stop trying to make me flustered.”

Johnny says something before calling the waiter over. “I don’t think I’m trying. I know I am trying and succeeding, let me tell you.”

“Oh my God, stop!”

The perfect time comes from spending it with someone so human, the title becomes a compliment. He loves the way her eyes twinkle when she smiles, or how she likes to control her laughter at the beginning of the date until she is comfortable. All he wants to do is make her feel as gorgeous as he thinks she is, he wants to be able to sugarcoat her, show her just how interested he is, and see where that leads to.

He is absentmindedly hinting at something called a one-night stand, term widely known because of its unromantic use of something called intimate by some people. No strings attached, rules set in a game that a lot of people take part of nowadays. There is this one friend, a photographer as well but a much more well-known one, that had given him a better explanation of what he thought was a one-night stand. A night to stand someone, to be and not to be at the same time, to become what has no name and understand it. Johnny knows it might be too fast, and if it doesn’t happen, he won’t be mad—he had a good date, a nice talk and a lot of laughter in only one afternoon, but he wouldn’t be angry if she told him she was interested in such thing.

Pink and orange, orange and pink, made for one another when put together in a sunset. The breeze is soft against their skins, her hands fidgety in front of her body, his eyes constantly looking at her—staring, even, because he doesn’t want to forget just how beautiful she is. Or maybe, he knows just how flustered he is making her. Johnny pushes some hair away from his face as he speaks. “…And yeah, my friend Ten owns this beach house, which is insane.”

“And you’re taking me there?”

“Let’s just pretend for a few hours that I am this rich, magnate guy that promises you all the diamond rings in the world.” Johnny comments, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her to the entrance of Ten’s getaway place. Just like everything he owns, it is nicely decorated but this beach house is a lot less used. Johnny just had to give him some pictures for an advertisement he was making on his Instagram account and he got the keys to the house once a year. “I had to take pictures of him for some clothing line that wanted to sponsor him just to get the keys.”

She smiles at that, watching as he opens the door with neat movements. “Should I feel honored that you brought me here, then?”

“You should. I always say no to Ten because he is very picky with his pictures, but I did it because I wanted you to look at this.” Just by that moment, he opens the door to the beach house and a gasp leaves her lips, only to cover them soon after. Indeed, Ten’s house is minimalistic but perfectly put in place with shades of gray and charcoal black, with a few doors and a few dots of white in decorations here and there to give some contrast. It is clean enough to look like a dollhouse. “Someone comes here to clean it every three days. I don’t know why he doesn’t live here. It would be the dream, but he’s too much of a city guy.”

“I have always loved the beach.” She says. “This is…wow, you actually took some pictures just to take me here?”

“Yep.” Johnny closes the door before tossing the keys on the coffee table. She spends her time looking around the place, bringing a smile to his face with how precious she looks when seeing things for the first time. Her expressions are, indeed, one of the best he has ever seen. “I bought some movies and snacks,” He starts as he opens a drawer on the table that holds the TV before shaking the bag of chips on one of his hands, holding the movie with the other. “You don’t have anything else to do after this, right?”

“Don’t think so.” She replies, watching as Johnny starts putting up the movie for them to watch. It is probably a comedy movie, only to bring some joy to their date—more than how amazing it had been—and with a soft gush of a breath, she plops down on the couch. He feels her staring, her eyes raking up and down his back, one good look at his bottom and then, back again at the back of his head. “Uh…I know this is not the time to say this, but…I kind of, I mean—I had never gone out on a Tinder date, and I know I sounded way flirtier than I am, so…I hope I didn’t make things awkward?”

Johnny chuckles from his spot, picking up the remote and turning on the TV before rushing to her side. One arm splayed around her shoulders and his eyes looking into hers are the response she gets before she speaks. Genuine, kind, flirty. “You’re doing great, sweetie.”

“…I have never had a date of mine quoting Kris Jenner.” Though a chuckle gives away just how funny she finds him and Johnny grins back.

“I’m feeling very special.”

He would not necessarily say that he likes to corrupt people, because he is a nice guy—and pretty much the best friend a person he could find, but there is something that makes him feel excited of seeing a side of her that no one else expects to see. She is a goddess from the moment someone sees her, but she doesn’t control thunder or the sea, her weapon is as strong as a giggle, the gleam behind her eyes, something that shows just how she views life, and Johnny finds himself thinking about those things throughout the movie.

One moment is all it takes to share a kiss, just like how one second is enough to break the doings of an entire date, but Johnny has always known how to take his chances and only thirty minutes later, he does what he had been planning all night. His lips press to her, tasting a bit like the salty chips they just had, swollen from the spiciness and making her sigh against them when she rests her hands over his chest. Suddenly, it makes sense, it feels right, everything seems like that one book with five-hundred pages that ends in the most fulfilling way.

His hands are at her waist, the ring he decided to wear seeping its coldness through the fabric of her dress. He wants to tease, needs to smile when pulling away briefly before diving in once again. He is aware of what he is doing, how she pushes her body forward to be met by his chest, the way her hands cup his jaw to bring him to one side just to deepen the kiss. It tastes like the strings that are not tied, like the sun and the moon meeting at the hour of the sunset, but only for a brief moment before they have to let go.

It is not a surprise that she runs his fingers through his hair and he begins to lay her down slowly on the couch, placing his hands on the back of her thighs before speaking against her lips. His eyes are half closed, his black hair made a mess and the gloss she had reapplied is smeared across his lips. “Are you alright with this?”

She looks over to the side, biting her bottom lip and trailing her hands underneath his shirt to touch his skin. “I want you.”

Johnny smirks at that, leaning forward to kiss her lips and bite down on her bottom one to receive a soft breath. “I like how that sounds.” He stands up with his hands on the back of her thighs, bringing her up with him and she squeals at the action, making him smile when she wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his slender waist. “W-What?” He asks in between chuckles and she joins in the laughter.

“Are you sure you can hold me up?” She questions and Johnny nods his head, feeling as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“Let me be romantic, all romance movies have this moment.” The sentence makes her laugh as he lays down on the bed quickly, his elbow and forearm resting on one side of her head and the other reaching for her waist as he kisses her once again, dreamy but not quite, passionate but with enough amount of comfort. Johnny is one hell of a man, she discovers that night, eager to make her feel like the protagonist of a romance movie.

Only, that movies don’t last more than three hours and after a while, she has to go back with the silent promise of never seeing each other again.

“You slept with someone you met on Tinder?!”

Groups of friends should be able to confide in one another, but she doesn’t trust most of her friends. The shrilling scream that leaves her friend’s lips make her cling to the edge of the table from the restaurant she is having dinner at, and she looks up with the most blank expression she can muster. She has not told anyone, not even her closest friend that is at the table, it is a secret—or was, naturally—kept to herself. In retrospect, she thinks her sex life should never be put out there, much less does she have to talk about which apps she uses to get dates, or how far those dates go. Then again, the surprise in her friend’s tone is to be expected, because she had never slept with someone so quickly before.

But then Johnny came along, and he wasn’t the typical flirty boy that covered everything in a coat of pretty pale shades to indicate more than it really was. Johnny was transparent, enough to let her know from the beginning that he obviously wanted something to do with her, and not only that, but he also lived up to the expectations she had for him. It is not something that she would say out loud, but his presence and sense of humor, along with his overall nice personality, was what had given her the push to sleep with him. Be damned social concepts of purity and respect, if she wanted him and he wanted her, there was nothing wrong with that.

The problem is that her friends do not need to know, and her Tinder account is long forgotten after that encounter. The least she wants is to have her friends knowing that she had gotten bored and created a Tinder account, and actually put it to use to get ‘dicked down’, as some would say. She takes a sip of her water, presses her lips together to swallow before sighing. “That’s nonsense. You know I would never create a Tinder account. I’m not like that.”

Not that there is anything wrong with it, but she can’t seem to accept it. It brings her some kind of embarrassment, perhaps because she has a conception of how her friends react to deals like the ones she is in right now. Hyori, the friend that had spoken on the first place, pouts as she sits back down to take a long sip of her Soju. “B-But…Daniel told us that you had a Tinder profile.”

Daniel is not there, so she might as well lie. Or not. “…I said I’m not the type to do it, not that I didn’t do it.”

Caught in her own lie, thanks to Hyori and Daniel, she tries to hide her own lies behind a spoonful of food. “So you had sex with someone you barely even knew?!”

The other eyes in the room settle upon her and all that she can seem to think about is hide the embarrassment that she knows shows through her face and mainly, come up with any excuse at that given time. “Uh…no…that’s—that’s none of your business, Hyori.”

But her friend persists. “Ooh, someone did the Devil’s Old Tango.”

She cringes at the sound of Hyori’s tone, lowering herself on her seat and eating more. Throughout her life, she thinks she has been a little bit selective with the people she ends up dating, or going out on dates with. It is not exactly that she has not dated enough, because she has, but she thinks only a few people are worth her time. Is it stupid that most people have lowered their standards because someone is not willing to try anymore? It is. She thinks she is worthy of some trying, of someone who is able to dive in completely, not keep one foot out of the water just in case. And Johnny was that to her, he put the cards on the table and showed which game he wanted to play. It only so happened that her mind had the option to decide between two things: sleeping with Johnny and taking her chance, or simply forgetting about it. She insisted on the first one, and she was pleasantly surprised. “Stop.”

One of her friends also asks Hyori to stop, but the woman sighs with a happy smile on her face. “How was he?”

“Hyori, I won’t talk about it—”

“Show me a picture of him.”

The second most serious person at the table, Choonhe, takes Hyori by the arm and pulls her to the side. “Hey, leave her alone.” With one touch to her cheeks with the back of her hand, she feels how hot her skin is. A part of her thinks that her main problem with talking about Johnny Seo is that she doesn’t really want to make anything public. Johnny is that one secret she likes to keep to herself, because it is hers in a way—like that one song she likes enough to only listen to it from time to time. It is a nice memory, a flutter of a flower she doesn’t get to see often, and it is her will to keep it a secret. “By the way, does anyone want to order more hot wings? I’m still hungry.”

Now that the attention is off her, she can start losing herself in her thoughts. It is stupid, how she simply kept Johnny’s number in her phone but she decided to delete the app. Tinder was a way of spending her time at first, but Johnny caught her attention—for once, he was not creepy, and he was a little bit more like her type. It would be stupid of her to try with someone else, knowing that Johnny had already put her expectations too high…and she doesn’t think she is ready for another one-night stand.

Sometimes, she ponders if he thinks about her, too.

But it is unlikely, people like him, who think of hook ups as a better way of loving normally don’t miss people, much less do they think about them twice. Although, the world is a tiny place and maybe, just less likely than other chances, she will get to meet up with Johnny once again.

Him, made to make her blush, to enchant her, to be the only one living in her brain for the time being.

Her, surprised by the fact that Johnny Seo is incomparable in some way. Even better than some of her past relationships, who tried a little too hard, but Johnny got her wrapped around his little finger with just one date. A few texts. Of course, a million smiles thrown her way.

“Hey, hey!” Hyori calls out from her spot, patting her friend on the arm various times. “You’re blushing, sis. Tell me all about it!”

That’s when she knows Johnny is someone she can’t take out of her brain so easily.

“Jaeho! Look up here!”

Dongyoung has a type of patience that Johnny wishes to have. It shows in Johnny’s work; a photographer whom had once dreamed of taking pictures for magazines like Vogue, or even going as far of being a concert photographer, but he ended up taking pictures of whoever goes to the store he works at. Dongyoung is not particularly a photographer, per say, but Johnny needed someone that helped him with people when he was trying to come up with the perfect picture, and while adults did not need that much attention, kids did. At this point, Johnny knows that Dongyoung is excellent at making babies look into the camera and smile.

Maybe, it is because Dongyoung is holding a teddy bear on top of Johnny’s head and he calls Jaeho’s name cutely, voice a little bit higher, a wide smile on his face, looking a lot less intimidating than Johnny, a person who gets overly frustrated when he can’t take the perfect picture. He does not say it often, but he is thankful of Dongyoung’s doings and how excellent he is with clients.

Jaeho looks up and smiles at the camera, making grabby hands at the teddy bear and Johnny can take the picture with the perfect layout that makes it look professional. That is the best part of his job, turning the store into something incredibly creative, not even leaving to do so. However, as the shutter goes off and he continues to take pictures of the baby, the sound of the front door opening catches his attention but he is too busy to take his gaze away from his camera. “Dongyoung, could you go see who’s out there?”

With a grumble, Dongyoung puts the teddy bear down, saying a small: “On my way.”

Jaeho starts crying immediately, and his parents—two young yet tired looking ones—don’t seem to do anything more than shush him. Johnny puts his camera down, biting on his bottom lip before picking up the teddy bear once again. “Look, look!” He says, waving the teddy bear on one hand and making Jaeho shut his mouth immediately, staring at Johnny with glossy eyes and puffy cheeks. The tall man balances the teddy bear on his shoulder, pressing his cheek against it before holding his camera. “Gimme a smile, come on Jae!”

Dongyoung comes waltzing inside the room once again, smiling widely and taking the toy from Johnny’s shoulder before wiggling it in the air. “You’ll be so happy.”

Johnny grumbles. “Why?”

“Because there’s another baby coming for a photoshoot.”

Not that Johnny hates kids or babies altogether, but there is something that makes him feel fidgety when he takes longer than he should in just one part of his work. With a curt nod, he continues taking pictures, finishing his job with a set of squads to get the perfect angle. Once the couple are gone, Johnny waves happily and then lets out a sigh. He can only pray that the next kid is not this annoying. “Ask for the payment first and then, let them in.”

“Gee, say please at least.”

“Dude, please.”

“That’s better.”

The fact that Johnny has a funny life would, could and will always be a statement. In this case, the moment he fixes his camera, prepares another layout and cracks his knuckles to start working at the entrance of Dongyoung. However, the clients are following soon after him, a set of three women—two adults, and the baby, approximately a one-year-old. Johnny does not think much of the first woman, but the second one has him widening his eyes for a second before a smile appears across his face.

Navy blue is the sweater that covers her frame, cropped, enough to show the waist he got tired of holding during their night together—or not, it’s an exaggeration—. Her legs do look amazing, but what is more interesting is her smile. If smiles could heal the world, hers would be enough to make a book out of the universe. He doesn’t say much, holds his camera and waits until she realizes, but she is too busy holding what he thinks is not her daughter…

A daughter never came into the conversation.

Is that her daughter?

“Good morning. I am here to take some pictures of my nie—” Almost as in cue, she stops talking when she looks at Johnny. The Johnny Seo, that one guy she slept with only three months prior to that moment and that she never talked to ever again. She wishes it would have happened, but conversations always fell short. He was busy, so was she and then, they never really tried. Her sister looks at her, squinting her eyes before clearing her throat.

“That’s my daughter. I want some pink background…since it matches her white dress, and just anything cute and bubbly!” Overly excited she is, and a little bit put off by the way her sister is ogling the photographer, but not that she knows anything about that. Johnny licks his lips, tries to push back his smile before nodding his head.

“Yeah, sure,” Johnny kneels down to prepare the layout and from far away, he swears he hears his one-night stand mumbling something to her sister. He doesn’t say much, just watches from the corner of his eyes as she suddenly gives her niece to her sister and crosses her arms over her chest. Flustered, much more when he catches her staring at the curve of his ass.

Caught on the act. And Johnny is proud of it.

“I, uh, I think I’m going to wait in the car.” She starts but her sister cuts her off.

“No, stay with me.” Whiny she is and that makes her shut her mouth for a second, watching Johnny, catching a glance of Dongyoung that is aware of the tension in the room for some unknown reason and she really wants to get out of there, the photographer can already sense it, but there is some happiness within him just to get to see her again. He fixes his camera, raises his eyebrows and soon after, he’s speaking again.

“Put your daughter down on that little arrangement, on the chair if you want…” He trails his voice, watching as the little baby looks at him out of interest. She’s curious, although a smile does not creep up her face yet.

Dongyoung immediately gets to work, moving his arms around and earning a big toothy grin from the child in front of him. “That’s it, a big smile! She seems sweet.”

The mother, with her arms crossed and a smile on her face, responds: “She is a ray of sunshine, to say the least.”

Johnny bites back the idea of responding ‘maybe, it is in the family’, because the least he wants to sound like at that very moment is like a flirt. He takes a few pictures, investing himself in his work until he feels someone getting closer to him, short steps welcoming the warmth of someone that stands by his side as he does his work. “H-Hi.” is all she can manage to say, or all she thinks about, really. Johnny doesn’t have to look to imagine her flustered expression, the way her lips let out the tiniest of mumbles to talk to him. Dongyoung is invested in a conversation with her sister and he has time to talk to her. “Huh…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m a photographer.”

“I thought there were plenty in the city.”

Johnny smiles, biting his bottom lip and snapping his fingers to get the baby to look at him, holding a toy in the shades of beige and pink that could bring some depth to the picture. “Hug the plushie. Yes, that’s it!” He encourages the one-year-old and with one hand, he gives her a thumbs up before taking a picture. “None like me, I can assure you that.” He promises with a grin that has her smiling shyly at him. “How has it been for you these past three…months? Has it been three months since…you know?”

“It has.” She confirms. “I am on break currently, just…enjoying it.” Johnny nods his head, whispering the word ‘nice’ as he concentrates on his work. “What about you?”

“Taking pictures.” Johnny says the most obvious of answers and then, he looks at her from the corner of his eye. “Would you like some?”

“Take a mental picture first.” She replies cheekily and Johnny puts his camera down after taking the amount of pictures he was hired for.

“Oh, I have plenty.” Those words have her smile faltering slightly before growing in size, cheeks growing fuller with the way her eyes creak at the sound of his voice. His eyes rake up and down her body for a second, barely perceivable and soon after, he calls Dongyoung’s name. “Hey, we’re done here.”

“Joh—Johnny, we’re cool, right?” She asks, making the man in question look over his shoulder to finally stand face to face with the woman he grew fond of in one night, then kind of forgot about it, and one glance at her three months after brought back all those memories. The way they said their names to one another, the fondness, the kisses…no one would even dare to believe they had been lovers, but they had. Different in so many ways, yet fitting.

He shrugs his shoulders. “We are. Very much cool with one another.”

She nods. “Right.”

“Why?” He asks, voice low as he traces the outline of his big camera. “Do I still make you…nervous?”

Her eyes widen, she tries to hide her hands in the pockets of her jeans as a way of shielding herself. “Uh, ah…no.”

Johnny smirks, memories of the night they spent together filling his mind when he crosses his arms over his chest. “You sure?”

“Shut up.” She mumbles before looking over to where her sister is standing, holding her daughter in her arms. “Uh…I think I have to leave.”

“You’re always the one to leave.” Johnny is reminiscent of the night she had to leave, saying that she could not stay any longer because she had to drive back to the city to get ready for the class she had the next day. College is difficult, much more if you have to weight a job on top of that. “But I’ll take it—I’ll be abandoned again.”

She hisses. “Sorry.” It’s a whispered apology with one hand that touches his bicep, trotting over to where her sister is before waving at Johnny over her shoulder, leaving the store with a giggling little girl by her side.

Johnny smiles, because one glance at her is enough to revive the fire that was once there. Dongyoung, on the other hand, sees the glistening brown eyes of the man before raising an eyebrow. “Oh no,” He whines. “Don’t tell you had something with that one.”

With two fingers sliding across his lips as a way of showing that they are sealed before tossing the imaginary key to the side, he gives a response. “My lips are sealed.”

“…Oh my God, Johnny!”

And he wishes he can see her again, but for now, they are a little secret kept from reality.

Texting someone after a long time of not being in touch is the most difficult, if not headache-inducing, action someone could ever make. Nice, but wrong at the same time. Johnny thinks that triple texting is okay, but he finds himself out of words when he texts the woman he had met in his workplace only a month prior to that day. He had slept with her, sure, there was some kind of connection in between the two, or just some distance he needs to cut, trace and keep at that. Whether they are so close it is scary or so far away that they are basically strangers, he doesn’t know, but Johnny finally has a free Saturday and a new restaurant to try out, thanks to Ten’s advice and now, he needs someone to go with.

It is impressive, how she replies almost a few minutes later and he has a confirmation. It is as if the idea of a one-night stand doesn’t imprint in his brain. Johnny thinks one-night stands can last two nights, they can have a continuation, a sequel, some sequels are really good too—but at the same time, he knows that he is wrong. The title of a single man (ready to mingle or not) does not tie down to him, and he would like to be proud of that title if only he was not so…thrilled to go out on this date.

But Thai food is better with someone he actually enjoys talking to, and while the sex was incredible, her voice and her train of thought is what brings him back to a second date.

Is he fidgety? Not really, but he does try to look a bit less beach-y than he did on their last date. He may have her on a pedestal, for he is waiting outside of the restaurant only for her, ignoring the glances of people who cared about other’s lives more than theirs. Dressed to his own image of fashionable, with a denim jacket big enough to fit someone else inside and a rosiness to his lips thanks to the cold. White, denim and black, the fabrics and colors that match him that night and a smile that has yet to appear, but it will come with the woman he is waiting for.

The night is not painted in color rings, expensive dresses or even faux smiles. It feels genuine when she gets over to where he is, in a rush, like always, and wearing a shade of lip-gloss that makes him want to kiss her just at that moment. “Sorry I’m late. I am so stupid, my boss kept me back for some finishing touches and you know how he gets—” When she looks at him, she realizes that Johnny doesn’t mind, because fifteen minutes can’t hurt anyone.

Yet, Johnny is good with a pout, much more when it’s thrown her way. “Don’t know. I feel like that apology is half-assed.”

“Uh…it’s not.” She adds, bottom lip stuck in between her teeth and Johnny opens his arms slightly.

“Come here and show me just how sorry you are.”

She looks to the sides, widening her eyes and bringing her hands to rest on top of his chest as he brings her closer by the waist. “Joh—Oh my God, Johnny, don’t be so…shit.” She cusses, not knowing exactly how to describe him or what he makes her feel, but the man only gives her a smile and an eyebrow raise, one that she takes as a sign to finally give in. “Fine. A little peck is good for you?”

He doesn’t answer verbally, but the scent of his cologne surrounds her and his lips are pressing down to hers in the matter of seconds. Enough of a response to take her breath away. Anyone watching would believe that they are a couple, two birds starting to meet one another, creating peace at the sky, not minding the wind or the sun that will once be the rotten ending. When he pulls away, his hand is holding the back of her neck and his smile is enough to light up the world on fire. “Give me a hundred more pecks and we’ll be even.”

“Ah, shut up.” She pushes at his chest before grabbing his hand on hers, a wild card for what he expected from her, and with a little smile thrown over her shoulder, they enter the Thai restaurant. “You’re one for bringing me to good restaurants. What’s so good about this one?”

Johnny looks at her, lost in his thoughts, pondering if the only thing he wants to do is her, or spend his time with the woman that had captured his attention. There’s a thick line between sex and a crush—heck, they might mix but they should not, at least in the concept of flings. “My friend, Ten, told me it was good.”

“I’m starting to think this friend Ten is the mastermind behind our dates.”

“It’s all me, baby. I’m just stealing the rich boy lifestyle.” Johnny jokes and she lets out a chuckle, taking a seat by one of the tables. The decorations are not what he is interested in, although he takes in a lot of wood and rustic decorations, but his eyes are trained on the way she moves her hair away from her face, takes the menu that a waitress brings over before stealing a good glance at him over it. “Do I have something on my face?”

Flustered but with a smile, she looks down at the written menu. “No…”

“What are you looking at, if that’s what you’re doing?” Johnny asks, licking his bottom lip and ignoring her gaze when she finally stops looking at her menu.

“N-Nothing.”

Johnny nods his head, adding in a sing-song tune: “If you say so—”

“I’m…” There’s something deep within her that she doesn’t say, and Johnny has a smile on his face, so tranquil and sweet that she feels like her heart could explode right at that moment. There are words that are left untold, stories that have no developing, and people who never try, and maybe she is all three at once. “Nothing.” It’s how she finishes it before patting his hand over the table. “What are you going to eat?”

Inside Johnny’s head, he feels like he had already planned their second encounter. He wishes he expected it to be like the first, with a nice date and then enough attraction to finish it off properly, but there he is, having bites of Thai food as they talk about their lives and how they have been developing. She says she wants to change her job, try to do something else and stop working for the same people that have taken her in for the past few years. Johnny confirms that he thinks the same, and while taking pictures with Dongyoung has been something memorable, he wants a bigger job—somewhere where his photography skills are actually highlighted, where people would actually recognize his work in some way or another. He wants to travel the world with a camera in between his hands, see everything through a lens, but that is not what that night is about.

That night is about the realization that sure, Johnny started going out with her with the idea of sex, but there is more to her than just a body he wants for one night. It is in the way she speaks, how she reacts to him, how she makes the world a thousand times more likeable with just a smile. Now, Johnny is not one to believe movies when they claim that something from one night can turn into something else, but he can quite accept that he sees past her body whenever he goes out with her.

With only two dates, she already has him craving for more.

And it is stupid, how he finds an excuse to spend more time with her, and he says he wants to buy something sweet for her, ending up at a bakery nearby just to get her favorite pastries. As they walk around the crowded streets, trying to remember where he left his car and obviously confirming that he is going to take her home after that, thanks to her car being at the mechanic’s, Johnny realizes that he really enjoys spending time with her, and that is something that hadn’t happened since a long time ago. Past the flirting and the touchiness, there is something else. Maybe, strong. Maybe, as bland as water, but it is there. Johnny wants to call it the development of a crush, or the start of a nice friendship.

Yet, she had insisted on getting one of those lollipop rings that they used to have when they were children (“I used to take them to school because I thought they were cool,” Johnny said.), and Johnny is one to please, so as they stand near the Thai restaurant where everything started, he holds the lollipop ring in between his fingers and her hand with his free one. “Can’t believe you actually made me get one of these.”

“They were tasty in my memory. I am sure they are, still.”

“Yeah, and probably full of saliva.”

“Hey, I don’t drool that much!”

“I feel like I remember you drooling when you first looked at me.”

“I, uh, I—” She finds herself at a loss of words and soon after, she hits Johnny on his shoulder. “Stop flirting.”

“I can’t when you’re that cute!”

A gasp is heard soon after, a little bit broken at the end, and Johnny frowns at the idea of someone being surprised by their mere presence. The gasp sounded too close to not be for them. Once the two people in their date look over to the left, they realize an old—and adorable—woman is covering her mouth with her two hands, looking at the ‘couple’ with squinted eyes and a smile that creeps up her face. “Oh, my Darling! Someone’s proposing over here!” Johnny figures out that the elderly woman is at least a bit blind, squinting at the sight of a lollipop ring and Johnny putting it around his date’s finger.

His date is quick to speak up, however. “You’ve gotten it wr—”

But Johnny likes the attention, or making her flustered, so he gets on one knee in front of her while holding the lollipop ring, catching the attention of a few people who clearly are not aware that it is candy that he is ‘proposing’ with. “These past few years, honey, have been excellent with you.”

She hisses through her teeth. “Johnny,” She mumbles, eyes looking around the place to find the attention placed upon them. Can’t people just get closer so they can realize this is all Johnny’s fault?! “Get up, now.”

“Let me speak.”

“No.” She whines, but Johnny continues.

“I never thought I would have met the Bonnie to my Clyde, the Jimmy to my Sheen—” She wants to laugh at that, biting down on her bottom lip and letting a smile out. People probably think that she is smiling out of happiness, but she wants to hide at that exact moment. “So, for all these years, would you marry me?”

“…Oh my God.” She whispers before taking him by the bicep and bringing him up to his feet. “I guess. Let’s just leave.”

And the few people that had gathered are awestruck, maybe because she did not give the answer people expected, or because someone just proposed to his supposed ‘girlfriend’ with a lollipop ring, but after closing the doors to the car, Johnny lets out the biggest laugh and holds her thigh with his right hand. “That was so funny!” Johnny comments but the sight of her face shows otherwise, rolling her eyes before she feels him pressing his lips to hers sweetly, smiling throughout the process. “Come on, you know it was funny—and it wasn’t my idea, that old lady thought I was proposing.”

She chuckles, shaking her head before covering her face. “How embarrassing, Johnny!” She places her hand on top of his on her thigh before kissing the back of his hand. “You owe me one.”

“Owe you one?! I already proposed.”

“Shh, don’t talk.” Johnny nods his head before starting the car, pressing his lips together before she pinches his hand softly. “Hey, do talk. I was joking.”

“See?!”

“You’re annoying.”

That brings a smile to Johnny’s face.

With a straw in between his plush lips, taking a long sip from her canned soda, Johnny raises an eyebrow at her preposition. “Foosball?” He asks soon after, holding onto her waist to bring her close before nodding his head. “I’m in.”

Johnny doesn’t know how it happens. How the third date comes after the second, and how the second doesn’t even include something more than a few kisses in the front seat of his car. And sure, Johnny knows the world doesn’t rotate around physical attraction, but he is surprised that a Tinder match has gone as far as it does. Now it is a few weeks later, and Johnny is more than happy to be in front of her, preparing for a game of foosball as he watches her. All he needs to do is win so he can hear her pretty voice complaining about it.

But Johnny does score in the first try, and that earns a boisterous laugh from him and a scowl from her. “I give you some of my Coca Cola and you do this to me, really?” His heart aches the moment he hears those words, and it is not a bad type of ache—it makes him feel better, like a way his body has of telling him he’d do a lot of things to protect her. He particularly adores her voice, but he loves her expressions and reactions the most. “Ugh, Johnny—don’t score, don’t score—”

“Sorry, baby. Kind of have to win.” Johnny adds with a shrug of his shoulders and as they continue playing, he bites his bottom lip. “So,” He starts. “Why exactly did you accept going on a third date with me?”

He never hears it from her. They have been sexually together, they kiss whenever they feel like it and the flirting is always there, though kept a secret from those who know them personally. She knows that he likes her, but she has never been one to voice out what she exactly feels for the man whom she continues going on dates with. “…Just because.”

“Oh, really?” He asks. “You also deleted your Tinder just because?”

She looks at him, moving her arms frantically as they hear the sound of the TV going off in the background, mixed with voices from other people and a lot of noise. “…Don’t make me say it.”

“If I win, you have to say it.”

Feigning ignorance, she looks at him for a second. “Say what?”

“That you like me.” He confirms and she gasps at his words, running short on her own before responding.

“W-What…Why are you asking?” One would think that Johnny Seo would not be affected by someone acting nervous in front of him—not nervous, flustered, but he does get a little bit fidgety at the thought. It makes his heart race, to know that he has that power upon her when he feels slightly the same for her. If not completely. Her distraction is enough to have Johnny moving his hands quickly and scoring the last one out of three goals, making his date gasp as she takes her canned soda from his hands. “You are not having this, for being mean to me.”

Anyone who looked at them would think that they are a couple, as always, his hands wrapping around her waist and making her look around as he adds in a cheesy tone. “Come on, say it—”

“No.”

“It’s not like I don’t know.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With a movement of his fingers, a chuckle leaves her lips and her hands end upon his chest, tugging him close but not really. Johnny has this kind of face that makes her feel safe, but it not fully his attractiveness and overall height that turns her into putty in front of him—it’s how he is, so lively, so chill, as if life is coated in paint and he patiently waits for the colors to dry. He knows how to have fun, just like how he takes that part out of her just to show her how beautiful life can be.

Really, it was unlike her to sleep with someone on the first date—and Johnny had changed that. He had always attracted her enough to make her take (not irrational decisions), but decisions that are very unlikely on being taken by her beforehand.

There’s always a sentence that starts a story, then there’s the first comma, the first dot, the continuation, the development…and there’s an end, but Johnny keeps adding on more paragraphs. One moment, she thinks it’s the end, the other, he’s back.

One moment, he is a one-night stand. The other, there’s something in this gaze…he, kind of, looks at her as if she means something more.

And she wants to mean something more, so she finally lets out a breath that she does not know she was holding before tilting her head to the side, blinking as if she is lost in thought, but it is more of a nervous tick. “I like you, too.”

What he does is stupid, how can’t it not be, he is the same guy that faked a proposal with a lollipop ring, but she did not expect him to throw a fist in the air before chuckling. “Hey, I finally got you to say it.”

She squints her eyes at that. “If you knew already, why ask me?”

She doesn’t get a response more than a fleeting touch to her waist, a peck on her lips and the promise of anything she wants to have for dinner. Johnny is not one to confess, but she knows it’s there, the promise of ‘perhaps, this will turn into something else’ and, she sure hopes it becomes a reality.

“Dongyoung?” Johnny asks with an empty can on his hand, watching as Dongyoung—whom is seated on the couch—jumps at the sound of his voice and hides his phone behind one of the cushions in the couch. Now, he knows Dongyoung and he can be a little bit jumpy, but he has never acted this way. “Did you eat my canned peas? I can’t find something to make for dinner and I was going to make this but—”

Dongyoung sighs out of relief, pushing the dark strands of his hair back before pressing a hand to his chest. “No, I didn’t. Jesus—”

“What are you doing? You’re super jumpy.” Johnny replies and Dongyoung widens his eyes, standing up from the couch with his phone in his back hand before replying.

“N-Nothing. I’m just going back to my room…”

But Johnny is quick, and messily into people’s business, so he takes Dongyoung’s phone from his hand, completely ignoring the male’s complaints. He unlocks his phone, knowing Dongyoung’s password like the palm of his hand before he is met by the sight of nothing more than the Tinder app. That one app that Ten tried time and time again to get Dongyoung into in the past, but somewhere along those lines of Dongyoung denying him, he had completely forgotten. “Dongyoung…you’re using Tinder?!”

“Don’t get into people’s business.” Dongyoung grumbles under his breath before taking his phone back into his hand. “I…” A look at Johnny’s smirking face lets him know that he is never going to live it down. “Listen, Ten gets to sleep around thanks to this app and you got a girlfriend. It must work for something!”

“Little Dongyoung wants to get laid.”

“N-No!”

“Aw, that’s sweet. I never thought you looked up at my relationship.”

Dongyoung rolls his eyes. “You know it wouldn’t have worked if your girlfriend wasn’t so nice.” He says and then, he clears his throat. “And Ten ate the canned peas.”

Johnny smiles at the thought of Dongyoung going through the same happenings that occurred after downloading Tinder. Maybe, Dongyoung will find the same luck as him, but for now, he really wants to call his girlfriend to get some takeout.

And maybe later, he will tell Dongyoung to take that Mariah Carey quote in his description away. No one will match him with that there.

#johnny scenarios #johnny seo #nct scenarios #nct #kpop scenarios #writing #nct fluff #johnny fluff #nct au #johnny au #tinder!au #one night stand to lovers!au #lISTEN #i loved this edit omg #hopefully it's good????#fnjakjfad i'm so excited for you guys to read this

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elizabethrobertajones · 6 years

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14x01 watching notes

RIP Kip, we hardly knew ye.

Well hey, returning friends and people who unwittingly clicked on this not knowing exactly what they're in for. Blowing off the dust and starting a new season of Dabb fuckery, which I spent way too long trying to think of a portmanteau for when I already have the episode downloaded

It's 5am, let's DO THIS.

So they start with Dean's Hi I Am A Cop On The Day Before I Retire speech re: hula girls and hawaiian t-shirts which is remarkably prescient of me to have been irrationally upset about that one detail after I binged most of season 13 last night to get me back in the mood. So now I have to elaborate on my one line textpost >.>

Because yes, that is the perfect note to start the season on: Dean thought the good times had rolled, allowed himself to hope, assembled himself a family with mom and step-pop (Bobby counts as a full father but AU Bobby is step-pop), brother, husband, kid... Said kid was promising A World Without Monsters aka Dabb's showrunning tagline for an endgame he teases them. And Lucifer was tucked safely away in an AU with the murderous Michael... And then in a series of events it all came crumbling down and with this amount of goodness in his grasp, he gave up what even when the real Michael was hounding him for it, he couldn't before.

Because in season 13 it is beyond obvious that Dean is tired, an Old Hunter, the best of his game but ready to bow out on that note, and yet for him it's not a matter of stepping back and letting someone else handle it because when Michael and Lucifer were involved, it was beyond personal. He and Sam only EXIST because Lucifer and realMichael wanted them to. And so there was no way this trouble would come to someone else's door, when it was the nasty angel on his shoulder and the devil on Sam's and we have Nougat as their collective responsibility who's the nexus of it all anyway.

Eeee the Road So Far text is glowy grace colour on a dark blue background. I'm JIZED for the title card.

Goodness, the Road So Far is a weird journey because we see Jack being all useful and magic and then callbacks to 13x01 and 2 where he was a messed up 2 day old and Dean just wanted to murder him.

I haven't outlined any expectations for this episode or even this recap but I suddenly realise that I should probably be wondering how much DeanCas we're gonna get in it, and this rage against Jack is subtextually motivated, for sure, but for me the first 6 episodes of Dean's grief arc were wonderful character stuff but removed from the main plot and therefore in my head I keep boxing them off like a bubble season, like 10x01-3 are, and I legit wasn't even expecting to SEE content from them in the recap, because brilliant as they are I sort of just forgot they were a part of this season despite watching them yesterday. The season for me became so much the Jack And Mary Search that this hiccup at the start didn't meet the requirements to be in season 13 :P

They're just That Time Dean Was Really Sad About Cas Then He Came Back And They Were Cowboys

Oh good there was "everybody we've lost" and then a recap of Cas dying and then - oh, we're recapping plot again? Er... everybody? Dean? Who else? DEAN?

this was the thinly veiled subtext of that line anyway since Dean waved off Mary and made it all about Cas anyways but. Yikes, editing team.

Jesus I watched season 13 yesterday and I forgot about Asmodeus. You know what, this is pre-coffee AND the 2 types of anti-brain fog medication I gobble in the morning.

But he's that much of a useless lump

Also too much Lucifer nipple on screen pre-coffee. Ick.

Nice recapping of Not The Levitating Fight.

NOW

Stock photo Nyoom of the season!! Hi Baby! You aren't in this episode because Eugenie said the car wasn't being used this season

Sam's got his Vengeance Eyes on but he's all scruffy and grown up so I trust him 10000% to get the job done.

OW. FUCK. OW. OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. GOOD USE OF INTERSTITIAL MUSIC

Why were you even listening to Dean's tapes if they fuck you up that badly? IS THIS YOUR VENGEANCE PLAYLIST? I'VE BEEN WAITING 10 YEARS

Actually, I haven't, I binged 4-5-6 as one unit after thinking the show was cancelled during the writers' strike but the point is that Sam and his ipod in 4x01 is immediately in my head because he was listening to his own music and being a hipster douche, but now he is not on demon blood he has not installed an ipod dock because he's GETTING DEAN BACK, DAMMIT but at the same time he's also realising that this means a heavy toll that the only driving music in the car is Dean's stuff...

Oh no, this must be the guy from the SDCC clip we hadn't seen because Osric Chau is banned forever for illegally uploading them all for us in the past, and all I know is that Deanchael is going to Fuck Him Up and I feel very bad for him

*raises my mug to Osric* I'm sure you tried, dude. And thanks for the previous years.

Hi Deanchael. I noticed in a promo pic that his tie has that sacred geometry type pattern on it which is a detail I made a mental note to type out literally anywhere in the like month between there and here and did not so here it is at a hopefully appropriate place.

Based on every other scene setting detail I suspect that this faithful man is actually still within the USA because this is literally the cabin set they re-use for everything. The spoilers made it sound like Deanchael was globe trotting to raise his army but now I see what's around us... Yeah no he's as focused on the US as every other big bad before.

Anyway they really specifically chose this prayer to Allah because of how pointed it was about being only for Allah and how he was the best, so I'm assuming Deanchael is here to be like yo God's gone and I'm your last chance of faith

Like just ruin his day and he got up at like 4am or whatever the first prayer is to do it and all

I hope, like, no offence to any Muslim viewers or anything >.> They sure play fast and loose with a lot of this stuff because Christian cultures are full of bitter non-believers raised in the culture and looking to kick up at the big guy in the sky, which is not an impression I get that Islam is as used to cultural flippancy, regardless of personal beliefs of residents of predominately Muslim countries and cultures. I'm not 100% sure though, because the closest link I've got is my raised-Christian Iranian friend who applies Christian eye-rolling to the issues with being in Iran and heathen so I still get that perspective of middle fingers up at Organised Religion from our discussions about it all... anyway big diversion, still waiting for coffee to kick in :P I just swallowed the last of it so I can only get more jittery from here on out!

It's so fuckin weird to see Dean's face confidently reciting verse in Arabic

I mean you don't need the hat, sir. I get it. It's not you in there.

Well so far anyway he's playing on the fact that the guy does pray to god and his angels.

Lol @ this man guessing his way through God AND Gabe to Deanchael's annoyance that he's the 3rd guess and he has to clarify that he's the better one.

Man, Gabriel worked on his reputation. I wouldn't have been able to tell you who Michael was because there wasn't even a kid in my class with that name when I was age 4 busy portraying Gabriel in a nativity play with full impish glee that the real deal would have been proud of.

Uhoh things aren't looking good for Jamil D: Asking for peace and love is good, you funky little hippy.

Is Deanchael implying that the Syria insurgency is the route to peace? I honestly don't know enough about the American foreign policy politics to know what sort of stance this is though from a liberal leaning show (I mean come on Bobo is a card-carrying socialist, I've seen it on Twitter :P), though to an outside viewer well aware of how fucked up it all is should this have been said on a British program, this is a vast over-simplification.

But we know Michael's main traits are Likes War and then also Warmonger and of course, spoilin' for a fight. So this may be a personal judgement and as much as they're bringing politics into their show I'm just backing right on out and going with this :P That he thinks it is more honourable to stay and fight and that Jamil is a hypocrite for not sticking around to work for peace actively.

Oh Jamil hooked up with a woman called Darleen. He is FOR SURE in America.

It's so funny to me that Deanchael can fly anywhere and they could have set this anywhere but it still ends up being a wooden cabin in the US. This has to turn out to be a lead to follow with a news report about the poor guy or else this is just hysterical that they couldn't be arsed to mock up even a hint of another country :P

He knew all this about Jamil beforehand so I have to assume he's really just here to drag him.

Man, that throw was GOOD. I'm assuming they either spent all summer playing with wires and stunts or else they've gone back to the drawing board on all this flinging people around business.

"A better world" oh we are so on for this World Without Monsters malarky still. This lines up with the clip from Dean they opened on so well - the dark irony of he and Michael working on the same project but from different angles. Dean wants to sort out monsters and bad things so he can go on a beach, aka his version of paradise, and Mikey wants to smush all the sinners, and clean up the planet, which is HIS version of paradise.

HECKIN GOOD TITLE CARD

now photoshop those wings on everyone

I LIKE SCRUFFY BULLET MAKER FROM THE AU.

He's like so happy to be in a world where you just casually have resources.

Meanwhile poor Maggie has become the de facto nurse and hates it.

Ugh the Bunker is a place where people just show up who yell "Soup's on!"

In my redshirt betting pool, Soups On is the first guy who dies.

Promo sceeeeene

I'm so happy Sam and Mary are doing this together. Last season Sam was so upset that Dean got to have a relationship with her, and he had missed out, but without Dean around - no offence to him - Sam and Mary may be focused on FINDING him but this is the work they also need to do for their relationship to start to ground it in something real. It's taken this long with all the separations, but remember that Mary also worked through some of her issues about Sam only last season in the AU with 6 month old Jack. And if she needed that sort of reminder and relationship to warm her up for Sam, her suddenly-grown 6 month old, then there were still a LOT of underlying issues that dated back to the start for her to overcome. Hopefully this puts them on a level playing field, though there's a new conflict brewing for them, with Mary's determined optimism vs Sam's pessimism, born of that depression from last season that never really got treated or resolved, they just managed to power past its current main triggers. Of course now it all just shifts in a Deanward direction.

I love how Ketch has been punted to London, at Buckleming discretion to drag him back. This wasn't even Bobo punting him out the door, and he and Buckleming have a violent back and forth over favourite characters, started in 9x06 with Bobo's very first episode when he banished Professor Morrison forever.

MARY TRIES MOMMING SAM TO GO TO BED

THEN SCRUFFY GUN GUY IS LIKE "CHIEF"

Chieeeeeeef.

Sam runs the shooow here and I love it. He's their badass MoL hunter leader, a scruffy saviour from another world.

Given Sam is wearing the same shirt and jacket in the promo pics I'm guessing he does not sleep, though I hope he gets to eat the soup.

"Maggie can you hack the traffic cams?" "um. no."

I love and support Maggie. She is a normal person who happened to live in apocalypse world and she just wants to flirt with the guy from the Gas n Go who probably hasn't talked to her since that got blown up and Jack attacked him over her... I mean, this is better than the AU world but maybe she just wants to be normal? Did anyone ask Maggie what she wanted??

SAM. You can eat your soup and run things at the same time! Get back here and eat that soup!

"yes sir"

Goodness, this is wonderful. Sam's doing what he was born to do, and then not because that was leading a friggin demon army, but then yes because he's got inherent leadership traits that he defers to Dean all the time because, well, he's there, and he's big bro.

Look, sometimes you need big bro to murder Satan's ass for you forever, but you also should be calling the shots. There's a balance here, where Dean can be the older brother, but Sam can be the boss. Work/life balance. Dean's got your back but you command an army of hunters, like we've all been salivating over since like season 8 when they first said the MoL ran the Bunker as the hub of operations dictating stuff to trusted hunters and the like.

Of course, if Sam is the Bobby here, then who is the AUBobby? I hope we see what's up with that soon, I've been wanting them to bristle those beards in an alpha way at each other for months, because AUBobby was their leader before Sam because Sir Chief.

"Sam."

"i'm good"

*mothering intensifies*

"i'm GOOD"

*mothering intensifies*

"How's Jack"

You aren't used to being mothered and it's murdering me completely to my soul. Dean's got SO MUCH MOTHERING all through the show compared to you. He even sees Jody as a mom friend while you crush on her like crazy so you haven't even got that!!!!

Because Chief Sam is the boss of this lot but at the SAME TIME he's getting all these soft tender mom moments he's never got to have before. It's a wonderful balance of nuances to his current life. He's overworked but surrounded by a supportive care team that respects him, gives him soup, and holds his hand, literally in Mary's case. And yet he's the scruffy macho competent boss who knows how to call all these shots, deputise, set up missions, but still knows more than them, how to do traffic cams, I'm sure years of lore over most of these hunters who only learned to deal with what got thrown at them in the apocalypse by trial and error because when do they get lore books? Mary and Bobby and other pre-apocalypse hunters would be few and far between to offer competent training to a populace suddenly all turned hunter.

Oh, AUBobby is beating up Jack. Perfect.

AAAH DIRECTED BY TJW

WAS NOT ADEQUATELY HOLDING ONTO SEAT

WARN A GIRL

I love finally seeing the training room but I'm deeply conscious that this is where Put Up Your Dukes starts and I can't get that fan fic out my mind so I'm just like, Jack, don't lie on the floor, your dads have banged there.

I'm so happy that AUBobby is nurturing a grandson, because this is the difference between him and Bobby - that our Bobby had that with Sam n Dean, but AUBobby never did. Though he DID have Mary Campbell to crush on, I doubt it would have softened him and rounded out the harsh places in his soul the same way raising Sam and Dean did, because he had an unrequited love and she hadn't gotten over John, while this recently widowed Mary Winchester actually has made better progress just because of the circumstances of the loss. Anyways Jack has no preexisting history with Bobby so there's nothing weird about him and AUBobby stepping into a nurturing relationship, that Sam n Dean would find uncomfortable in a way, given their relationship with Bobby. And Jack gets yet another strong figure to teach and guide him.

AUBobby looks slim and stands tall compared to Bobby, which I'm largely putting down to posture, and not being drowned in layers. I like this difference - Bobby almost never voluntarily dressed in 1 layer, but AUBobby has a more military slant, and this training sergeant routine with Jack is a good fit to show a difference in his character, that isn't surly old Bobby behind his desk, that he's involved in teaching Jack to fight, rather than helping hunters with lore and swigging whiskey.

I'd assume given the lack of availability in his AU, he's considerably less alcohol dependant, so this is a very different character thing. If Bobby were doing this training, and nothing else was different, he'd be taking a breather to pour them both a whiskey as he imparts wisdom.

Demon in nice shoes and dark sunglasses at night to indicate that yes I am a demon I have black eyes :P I assume this is a demon anyway not just because of this detail but pre-season spoilers

Ah hearing Cas's name is enough to make my heart pick up. MY GUY!

But then, "Castiel, darling"

Stop trying to make Good Omens happen, it's not going to happen. You can't just "darling" up to an angel and expect that good good romance. Crowley took years to wear Cas down and Cas never actually LIKED him, down to their last real interaction where Cas was just "WTF???? LEAVE ME TO ROT AND DIE" when Crowley saved him in 12x12

God I miss that

"Oh god."

Same, buddy.

You do, however, realise this is your first words of the season gifset line, though?

Someone ought to write to Dabb and inform him that people make first and last word gifsets and to be more careful.

Especially if in the last episode at the end of the season, Cas's last word is "Dean"

Anyway Cas has said 1 line and I can tell he's on top form. Unlike 10x01 he's in a hipster hogroast joint.

This demon, with dark black sunglasses inside at night (douchebag) just ordered a coffee, black. WE GET IT, ENOBY DEMENTIA DARKNESS RAVEN WAY, YOU ARE GOFFIC AND IT'S AS BLACK AS YOUR SOUL

LOL Cas is sitting under the JACK'S sign.

Demon douche sits under Schultz, which is the death beer. And lemme tell you, TJW is well-versed in this. So well-versed in it he's sat Cas in front of a classic El Sol flyer with the subtle touch required to tell Dean that Cas is his dream girl. He knows his shit.

This seriously seems to be implying that the rise of hipster food joints is an effort from Hell to spread chaos on earth

Cas sitting with his back to the fire is such an interesting visual, but this is just a note to self for later to guess what it all means

THIS FUCKIN DEMON TOOK HIS BLACK SUNGLASSES OFF TO SHOW OFF HIS BLACK EYES

Dabb is so good at incidental characters, and making me hate this guy for nuanced nonsensical reasons is amazing. This is... art...

This is a callback to 5x08 and Dean ranting about hating procedural cop shows then him and sam taking their sunglasses on and off at night every time they made a pun and I'm 100% convinced since 12x01 and Cas busting through that Mystery Spot sign that Gabriel has been subtly influencing events

Okay so we know exactly what is written on demon bathroom walls. I'm taking that as a sideways confirmation that Cain knew full well that Dean had his Colette because he'd seen crude doodles of them doing it

Anyway douchedemon just outright told Cas that all the demons assume he and Dean in particular are banging. Not that Cas bangs Winchesters, as some have implied, without knowing all the details. They've narrowed this info down.

I assume this is also in the Winchester Dossier that Barthamus studied from before meeting them. I love that demons probably do have a filing cabinet somewhere of all the notable assholes they run into in their work, and the Winchesters take up a whole cabinent, but the refresher file summarising them in a paragraph if you don't have time is like, Sam: Lazy boyking, will stab you. Dean: fucking Castiel, will stab you.

Cas doesn't even move an eyebrow. Incredible.

Cas rarely gets hit with these compared to Dean in the history of the show, and Dean is full of bluster or anger or confusion or alarmed eyebrows. Cas is like... no. fuck you. i'm party!Cas, I have my shit in order.

Though this is from a demon. It's an entirely different thing when Heaven is involved, as they also have their dossier on the winchesters.

Sam: abomination. will banish you. Dean: fucking Castiel. Will stab you.

*loud coffee slurp* "what's in it for moi?

Cas, stab him. Stab him now. This is not worth the information. You can find another guy.

I'm starting to think Cas with his back to the flames is his unwitting danger from this hellish hogroast place.

They use Shultz beer containers to hold the sauces and menus on the table. DEEEEATH

Cas speaking slower and threatening to burn him to ash "right here and right now"

this is a gifset that will get a lot of notes from thirsty Cas fans

Whaaaaaaaa the entire joint turned out to be owned by and filled with demons who would ever have guessed based on one open fire and that metal hogs head from the promo pics :P

Stop hurting him!!!! Misha can't stage fight! This is really unfair!!

I wonder how the poor new awesome fight coordinator took to Misha

"let's just... um..." "hide him behind all these demons?" TJW suggests The fight guy nods sadly.

Aww Sister Jo got back to work. Good for her.

Sister Jo has no fear and can stroll down a shady alley counting her money

*t-shirt meme* One fear: *flappy wing noises*

"Hey Jo."

GHOLY SHIT TRUE FORMS TYHUEOJDSHGFSH DS TRUE FORMS WE SEE WHAT ANGELS SEEE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SCIENCE HAS CAUGH T UP TO THE DIVINE, SPN CAN FINALL Y SHOW US WHAT ANGELS SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Holy shit I want the gif of this as my blog header. That's shitting amazing.

Burning HALO

ALL HIS CHI POINTS LIT UP EVEN WHEN IT MAKES IT LOOK SILLY TO HAVE HIS CALVES GLOWING

I wonder if this is what Danneel sees when she looks at Jensen all the time

"Why would he say yes to you?"

"Love"

I'm dying and I am dead. I gather that Dean is 100% absent from this episode, but that one comment puts him front and centre and I am in paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain. Everything happening around Michael and because of Michael is because Dean loves his peeps. From Sam staying up hacking traffic cams on vampires to Cas getting his ass handed to him by demons.

I bet Cas looks like that single glowstick he had on in the cave when angels look at him.

Party!Cas

I ruined the fun

Jensen gently touches Danneel's face and that's just rude because that's all his tenderness for his wife being turned into a scary villain move between Deanchael and Jo. Don't do this to them!!!

Oooof Deanchael pulls from Dean's memory of Anael about what she was like, describing her in the most Cas-like terms, then cuts through her hilarious bull about wanting handbags (this is so meta about sticking middle fingers in the faces of people who think she's a well-paid beard) and then starts telling her she wants love and a family.

Deanchael has used the word "love" twice in a scene and it's horrifying to see the word come out of his face, when Dean is so guarded. Now Deanchael is just looking through Sister Jo and analysing what she wants - and she's playing this game very well but this move of his might still beat her. Because ow. Telling her she wants belonging and family. When she's very much established as a Cas mirror by the reminder she ran away from Heaven and doesn't want to play by their rules.

"It's very, very human of you. And so disappointing." Did all those times Lucifer sucked her grace bring her close to feeling it? To the point of permanent damage? I only ask because I know another guy this might apply to.

I wonder how much Deanchael is projecting based on conjectures because he knows Cas through Dean's eyes.

"But if they're all these sad, lost, fallen things..." Ya, that's Cas too for suresies

SAM AND JACK SAM AND JACK

Jack sitting quietly in meditation, clearly unsettled. A parallel to 13x23 when Dean came rushing in to him having a nightmare, now Sam is having a crack at parenting the boy.

Jack lying about how things were fine. Nougat. Hon. You're human now. But not that good at being human. Sam knows your tells :P

Sam interrupted mid pep-talk by Mary with some nonsense.

Jack is always so ugh... accepting and kinda flippant. He knows parental figures can be disappointing and get dragged away mid peptalk by some business.

Which he's apparently not involved in. I guess after we see him going on hunts with them in 13x23, he's grounded until he goes through basic training so not only is he useless to help with his powers to find Dean, but he can't even do the easy hunter stuff because he's just a kid.

Aww my poor baby Nougat :( He's so angsty. He's a TEEN. Lookit him! All growed up!

Uuugh I guess this is Nick. "I didn't talk to him. I can barely look at him."

What I'm getting from this sequence mainly is the sound of Triss's rage at the Bunker layout.

*Mary pats Sam's shoulder supportively and walks off*

You're on your own, Chief.

Ugh I am not ready for this bull if it's Nick but I have to keep watching to be sure :P

Ew it is. EW. What does Mark P HAVE on you all.

At least TJW is shooting the heck out of this to show us how gross Sam finds this all.

Sam's shadow falling over Nick.

I really want to know how this bullshit happened. And yet. No, not really.

Oh gross AND they're making Mark P take off his shirt. The nipple I didn't want to see in the Road So Far was not warning enough.

Pre-season ugh speculation was that whatever Crowley did to Nick made him stronger and more permanent apparently even than Lucifer being stabbed out of him.

So yeah anyway I guess Jack is in part also sulking about this and I'm with him, because Sam being pulled away from their pep talk time to deal with Gross Man Associated With My Father But Not Actually Him Because Biologically I Am The Son Of A Non-Historical President...

Making Sam the one who has to care for Nick is utterly cruel. He has so many deputies. Maybe this is just his personal fear that Nick's still a bit Lucifery. Maybe he just sees this as a gross burden, a manifestation of the ongoing trauma from Lucifer, that even when he's dead he lingers.

Plus, it's giving us some reassurance that an angel can be ousted from a vessel without killing them, to throw some options into the Deanchael pot.

Still. Nick. Really.

I bet Jack is sulking because some little cosmic part of him regenerating deep down in his core, that one lil gold glowy chi point in his big toe, knows that Eugenie forgot his name at SDCC and called him "Nick" and this shit from your creator just weighs on you. Jack is an entity beyond Buckleming and yet born from them, and this is what they beget: forgetting their own child in favour of this old carcass.

bitter? moi? *sips coffee noisily*

Actually, that's not true but I need some tea because I'm sulky so I'm taking this ragebreak to go make some and then I will sip it noisily in Nick's direction. :P

Everything henceforth is under the jurisdiction of hot drink no.2

"I don't understand how Lucifer could die and I could live"

I hate you

Eurgh, I bet you anything Dabb pulled a Buckleming and just took the post-it note they gave him when he asked, er, HOW does this happen? and transliterated it into dialogue because 1: all the writers shade Buckleming all the time because I can literally see it ooze out of Perez and Yockey and Bobo's writing but this is the showrunner, guyses. 2: it's such a dumbass convoluted explanation that it only burns out the archangel but if you non-fatally stab it then the guy is fine.

Which begs the question of how the fuck is Gabriel because if we get anything good from this, that fucker is in one hell of an interesting vessel situation compared to Old Nick.

PS: I am not sure how culturally saturated this is so we are all clear that Old Nick is a historically used name for Satan and his name has been a joke since 5x01 thanks to Kripke, and now we have to actually deal with that.

And then Nick is actually sympathetic to how Sam feels looking at him. I guess Mark P really wants us to feel sympathetic to his new dude.

"And Michael... did he tell Lucifer anything about his plan?"

Listen, we NEED acknowledgement that for a month or so Lucifer and AUMichael roadtripped together to assemble from their AU the key of solomon, the fruit of the tree of life, and the blood of a most holy man.

There was a lengthy downtime while people settled in and Dean was allowed to think the Good Times were rolling, and all that time, the weirdest brother roadtrip show ever was going on in the AU, mad enough that I would actually find it hilarious to watch despite enduring Mark P as a result of it.

SAM DOES NOT DESERVE THIS

He's not allowed to rest, ever.

I bet this is douchdemon phoning him from Cas's phone.

"Hello Sam!" says a perky voice down the phone. It's INCREDIBLE how unlikeable this demon is making himself. He's actually my favourite character now.

Oh no, Nougat is wearing a different grey shirt. He's really depressed. Someone help him.

"He just told you he was a demon?" "he seemed proud of it too"

Sam hates him as well. I can't wait for Sam to come scowl at him.

"What do we do?" Maggie asks, completely wide-eyed. Oh honey. Poor, innocent, sheltered Maggie. What were you doing all apocalypse until we caught up with you? You aren't hardened, you're adorable.

AUBobby and Rufus (his gun)

"I'm coming too!" YAY JACK. Your father is in trouble, he's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days, but what a different world all the rest is

"I'm not as strong, but I can help," he says, looking tiny beside Sam, bruised up from AUBobby's training, a single layer to make him look even smaller...

(we do not talk enough about how all these jackets are a sort of alpha being shoulder plumping thing like when you make yourself look huge to scare off a mountain lion but that's 100% what this is)

IT MADE JACK SMILE yey he's allowed to feel useful! Pop is allowing him to go on a mission to rescue Dad who was looking for Papa when this all went down.

Grandpapa is not so pleased, because AUBobby has been measuring how useful Jack is and I feel like lil Nougat bab is going to do something mildly heroic for Cas or else get pasted for his ongoing character development for the season...

"He needs this, Bobby."

Dear LORD does he not quit? We don't even know his name? "Are you sure I can't get you anything... hot... or black?" FUck OFF

No wonder by the promo pic Cas looked so utterly done. This is exhaustingly annoying for him. Cas's personal hell is just irritating people. A line of Crowleys and Lucifers and this jerkwad chattering at him.

And yet Dean runs his mouth all the time and Cas is in luuuurve

Oh lordy are we really doing this coffee metaphor now? "Coffee has no effect on me" (but he once acquired the taste, and it was a core part of him being human and learning to human in the opening shot of 9x06 for him as his metaphor for how he was learning)

"me either *sluuuurp* not any more. But it's like saltwater taffy or infants. I just like the taste."

"I'm just being a good host like mother would have wanted"

Cas stops mid eyeroll to eyeroll HARDER at meeting ANOTHER demon with mommy issues. Like, please. Don't. I like Rowena now but can we NOT.

Party!Cas of Dabb era is my favourite iteration of Cas by a country mile.

"Why are you using me as bait?" "it's kind of what you're for"

Oh Cas. Now he's just the damsel in distress, which I guess is a step up from being an attack dog, but still isn't that great for the ego stroking about his role and use within the Winchester family, an ongoing source of stress for him, this reminds us.

Cas's faith in Sam is wonderful. like, as soon as douchmon says he needs something from Sam, Cas just SMIRKS like, OH BUDDY. BUDDDYYY. No, I'm not gonna say it. I'm just - "you think he'd make a deal with you?" I'm ... I don't laugh as a rule but inside? Hilarious.

"Somebody asked me what it was that I wanted" You know, I think Deanchael is INCITING people. he's not killing any of them, just using the revelation of his appearance to motivate them - moving Sister Jo to do what she wants, which is to re-organise Heaven with the ideas she had as a button pushing functionary... visiting world leaders and holy men, and this douche...

To what end, though? Chaos? This is a roundabout way to make a better world.

"Destroying, Drinking, Defiling, you know, the 3 Ds" they absolutely have posters up in Hell with this on for the newbies to learn.

We've seen Heaven's staffroom, I DEMAND to see the break room in Hell, with all its lurid Destiel smut doodled on the walls and so on

Anyway it's a hell of a question, pun intended, because demons have no real purpose, even the named baddies have largely been slaves to someone else's will (Lucifer or Crowley) and Crowley could not have answered that question from the start of season 6 through to the moment he chose to sacrifice himself... I don't think any of TFW 2.0 or Bunker Squad could answer it fully. Cas can't, and that's the question that's been bugging him since 9x06 -

EPHRAIM Shh-shh-shhh. It'll be over soon. I'll take the pain away.

CASTIEL I want to live.

EPHRAIM But as what, Castiel? As an angel? or a man?

and it's what his entire crisis in season 10 was over... Who ARE you Castiel? What do you WANT?

Dean wants a Beach Vacation Ending. He figured it out and as narrative punishment, he's Deanchael. No one else has sorted it out, though, but Sam got close - he had his pizza dream and was immediately punished with being eaten by vampires and resurrected by Lucifer and all that drama... Sam's work isn't done. Though his growth has taken a huge leap, now he has to figure out what he wants in this NEW setting, and we're only just MEETING Chief Sam in this iteration, so he's got a lot of work to do.

"I gave it a good think and I worked out exactly what I wanted. Everything."

Deanchael definitely is planning for this, so watch out buddy.

SAM DRIVING, MOM IN SHOTGUN

RED ALERT

Uhoh Sam's snapped because of the optimism Mary exudes. Yep, he really was nearly at the last straw in their earlier convo when he scoffed at her attempts to cheer him up.

Look, she's trying to mom you with no experience except adopting Jack. Work with her.

Sam is spiralling with the depression, this time all the bad things that could have happened to Dean and how they're never going to find him, throwing these horrible scenarios at Mary to stop her trying to comfort him.

"I know. I know he's out there, scared and alone." She sees lil 4 year old Dean. Because, I mean, that is the soul Dean bears to her when they have moments sometimes. And her optimism is a wall against thinking of her toddler in this scenario.

"I know. I know he might not come back. Never think I don't know that. But I can't - I have to think about the good, Sam. Because if I don't, I will drown in the bad." I wonder who that directly relates to who is currently driving this car.

I really hope this is a bit of vindication for Mary - or redemption to the eyes of the people who don't like her - that she does care, and she's spelling out her approach to all this. In the start of season 12 when she was trying to keep afloat she used a lot of optimism and furious paddling on the surface, because she has been doing that her whole life. When she was being raised a hunter, when she was a housewife with no clue what she was doing, a mom but he marriage beginning to fall apart... And then thrust into the present day, and it's 360 degrees of combat and loss and sadness and a ill-advised hook up with Ketch... Furious doggy paddling on the surface.

"For Dean's sake, I can't do that. We can't do that." And she shows that she is prioritising Dean, that she's driven and motivated to keep going FOR him.

Come on, give her a chance.

Nyooom.

Meanwhile in the Jack and Bobby truck, Jack is the one angsting and Bobby is the one driving.

Jack is one years old and not legally old enough to drive.

Bobby peptalks him with the reminder that when Jack had his grace he did hero things for these people, which is why he can ride shotgun, and even if he feels useless now, they'll have his back, that he has earned this squad even if he can't be as awesome as he used to.

Maggie is like, I'm getting a reaction shot... Am I going to develop feelings for Jack? That would be super weird, he's one years old. I hope no one is implying this even though I'm in a bunch of scenes getting character focus.

Eeeeeeee Sam trusts Mary with the demon killing knife. I am sure they don't call it Ruby's knife to her and he has never, ever told her about that time that thing happened with Ruby.

This fucker had his back turned for Sam to enter just so he could turn around dramatically. God he's repellent.

An extra was hired to pat Sam down. What a job.

"The shoulders. The hair! You are my Beyonce!" I mean, same. Except. Cas is Agent Beyonce so this fuckhead has totally misread this situation.

This gives Sam a moment to look over at Cas and Cas silently says, yes I know he's a total fuckhead, I've been dealing with this all day. I'm so sorry bro, can you just stab him so we can go home and follow a different lead. I don't even care what this one knows, I can't handle him another minute.

"I'm more embarrassed than I am hurt" I understand this to my core, and I'm so sorry, Cas.

"Kipling. Kip for short."

"Cool. Kip. I'm here." Sam being exactly as "fuck you" as I wanted towards Kip.

Sam is now standing with his head in an El Sol sign. TJW what are you up to bud?

Oh no Jack and Maggie got caught skulking. Sam and Cas have the same "my boy!" reaction when they see Cas.

Maggie is here too, you monsters.

But Kip has missed Mary and AUBobby

"It's just late capitalism, you understand" Yeah, and fuck you Kip.

How is Kip so irritating that he can make tapping a stool somehow the most obnoxious thing a man could do? He's WONDERFULLY well-cast. I love this actor. He's chewing scenery and it's incredible.

"What do you want?" Ow, Sam being twisted into asking the same thing Deanchael asked Kip

"Ass-modeus Kentucky Fried" listen you are still the worst but that drew a sympathetic smile and I hate it and I hate you.

Oh, Sam just Sammed something from that side glance, random demon side-eye. Oooh. Oooooooh.

But yeah, Kip asking for the "Crowley Deal" as if it's a package that can be bought from the Winchesters, and not something that Crowley wormed his way into via much back and forth power plays and drama. The Winchester have always had a back and forth with Hell, and since Crowley there have been a lot of demons, like Bart, trying to figure out what exactly it WAS that they all had. But someone has to be in charge, and the Winchesters are the top dog destined hunters with their fingers in all the world-saving pies, so clashes come naturally. Approaching them like this, first Bart, now this douchenozzle, is meta, presumptuous, overstepping what builds naturally... An attempt to leapfrog to the end where the equilibrium is established.

But Crowley had time to build a long game. These new pretenders are working in a world where the Winchesters' actions have devastated Heaven and Hell alike, and are, like Mary, just trying to keep afloat on the whole thing.

"We never gave Crowley that deal." Because yes, that's how it seemed to play out, and from outsider eyes that's how it may have looked... But each and every interaction came about naturally through the plot, there was no wrangling it. That's just how the Winchesters and Crowley ended up.

And that hole can't be filled by someone just leaping into the chair and asking for it.

Though it is nice if Motown Meats is the new seat of Hell on Earth instead of the outdated exterior asylum interior castle dungeon look Crowley set up.

"You're no Crowley. I know that. So do they." I think that was what Sam Sammed out of the demons, and also true, and ALSO is this the boyking accidentally exerting himself, knowing what's good for Hell? I always get a lil tingle in my thumbs when Sam gets too involved in knowing what's up with Hell.

Holy shit Kipling was a Mongolian warlord who rode with Genghis Khan in life. PLEASE survive this episode, I want to hate you all season. PLEAAAASE I BEG YOU.

Oh my god this insecure whinging asshole, chowing down on the scenery like there's no tomorrow. "I'D EAT YOUR HEART" *turns to weepy and quiet* "before I show you who I really am..."

This is Eddie Redmayne in Jupiter Ascending levels of scenery eating. He's gonna pick up a barstool and take a bite out of it now.

Sam is doing this all unarmed, which is something to remember, because this is the fucker who talked his way into killing the Alpha Vamp while MOSTLY unarmed for a majority of that chat.

Sam Fucking Winchester.

AUBOBBY AND RUFUS!!!!

Also mary.

But AUBobby gets a slow mo for Rufus shooting demons.

HOLY SHIT MARY'S SLOW MO

I am pregnant

MARY THROWING SAM THE KNIFE

TJW was like this fight is too fast, my guy. We need to slow it down. You're so good at your job no one's gonna see what happened unless we go slow mo.

he and the fight guy high five

"Aw, balls."

Hey, Nougat tried. He's got a squishy hero centre.

Looks like he weighs nothing and now he's human he goes down in one punch. Owie.

"Here take this. You know how to use it?" "Uh! Stab them with the pointy end!?" "pretty much"

Maggie you precious girl why are you HERE. Why is Soups On or Gnarly Gun Guy not here?

Cas you fucking damsel in distress

Fight guy is like "uuuuh do I have to"

Misha is like "I'm good here, tbh"

SAM FUCKING WINCHESTER

(Aw, Kip's dead, he was fun)

"ENOUGH"

YES SIR

"There will be NO NEW KING OF HELL"

You are gonna get demon minions like fucking ducklings you ass

"Not ever. And if anyone wants the job, you can come through me" Sam is technically immortal so long as Rowena is alive and vice versa you know. Also, how long is he planning on defending Hell? Ever?

I'm stalling from how much I have to scream about how badass Sam was throwing down that declaration that he's now essentially the trial a pretender to the throne has to pass to take the job.

Because if I was a demon... FUCK NO would I want to tangle with this fucker.

Sam's file, updated: Current King Of Hell. Will Kill You. AVOID.

Sam is fucking terrifying. I love it. He scared demons out of their meatsuits. Sam walking into a room is now a reason to eject and abort mission. God. This guy.

Remember in season 1 when demons were scary? Oo er this isn't our sort of thing... halp.

Now Sam looks them in the eye and is like, fuck off. I'm scarier than any of you.

"That's what I thought"

Cas is literally giving you the reverse look of in 4x16 when you marched in and fried Alastair's brain.

SAM GOT A NEW SHIRT thank god.

I should amend: he did all this wearing blue plaid with orange stripes.

Sam Fucking Winchester.

The BMoL definitely didn't have the right birth certificate because that's his legal middle name.

Sam n Caaaaas my GUYS. I hope this is the 10x01 convo but, like, not. Flip flip flip those pancakes, Dabb my guy.

Cas, hon, you're still so beat up you have blood trails coming out of your nose. There's not really caring about your meatsuit because it heals eventually, but there's also washing your fucking face, because Sam's had time to change his shirt and get a beer so what were you doing?

Probably staring at a picture of Dean on his phone and sighing.

Anyway he's here to ask how Sam is, rather than care about himself. Symbolism.

"I've been better. And worse." Worse is 10x01.

Or 4x10's flashbacks. For sure those are the worstest.

Though, this time you are the king of hell and you're wearing a dark shirt and I don't think you have thought this through.

The most well-meaning accidental king of hell ever.

Sam and Cas share the "to find Dean I'd do anything" look. Be CAREFUL. Cas is literally choosing to wear hubris on his face because he feels bad about his fuck up with going to Kip.

Mary! Casual Mary chilling in the kitchen!!

Although, with everyone in the bunker, these rooms are taking on different meanings. The people are chasing out the heavy shadows and ghosts of all the oppressive silences Sam and Dean have filled these corners with.

Aw it's Mary and AUBobby. I was half-hoping we'd have her giving beer to Jack, but I guess we need to set up the forward momentum on their relationship for this season.

"Not bad today, old man." "you too, Sunshine."

You do realise that Mary is sitting in the exact same spot as where Dean was when he called Cas "Sunshine" You do know that right I mean you KNOW? This is TJW, he knows. He's a Destiel Shipper of the highest order.

Cas pops in on Jack, staring at his busted up face in a mirror, now filling more Winchester angst tropes to make up for lost time. "I'm fine," he says without being asked. Because 10x01 or 10x02 was where Cas defined "fine" for Hannah and explained to her it's what humans say when things are really not fine but they can't admit it.

"You did well." "All I did was get punched. In the face."

I love snarky teen Jack.

"To be fair, we all got punched in the face," Cas says, still covered in hubris.

He has a POINT. He has full right to pull the "I should feel more useless than you" card on Jack.

Jack doing the "i'm useless" thing that Cas had to go through when he lost his grace, and Jack was allowed to stay in the Bunker. Is this how Cas would have felt had he not been kicked out?

Jack says Michael's out there and he still feels responsible to stop him. There's a very, very very very ver very weird Hamlet vibe from Jack, being forced into a position of emotional responsibility to kill his uncle, but Cas is his once dead now back and not a ghost father, and Jack couldn't kill Michael and so Dean got possessed... I mean, it's not a neat overlay, but Jack wants to kill an uncle, an AUncle, and I feel like in terms of uncle-killing narratives, AU Michael making off with Dean fits about as well to Hamlet's uncle marrying his mom as we're gonna get... I'd love to see how this shapes out because these family narratives since season 11 are becoming deeply shakespearean in the amount of nonsense going on. This sort of supernatural drama is a modern world way to have this kind of heightened emotion and the stakes you find in Shakespearean tragedies, and to force the sorts of reflection on the world and self... I really really dig it. Watching season 13 yesterday really hit me with this feeling all over and I'm delighted that Jack has this arc because I'm so amused/interested to see where this weirdo Hamlet parallel goes for him.

"I don't have anything." "Oh Jack" thanks Cas that's what I said out loud "you have me. You have all of us. You have your family." *SHOULDER GRASP*

No hug. Fuck off Cas, with your reassuring shoulder grasps. I know that's the language you've been taught but Dabb era is hug era and you suck.

I love that with all of Sam and Mary's doubt and Jack's lack of self worth, it's down to CAS. CASTIEL. CASTIEL WINCHESTER. CASTIEL FUCKING WINCHESTER. PARTY!CAS. to give the actual pep talk of the episode which has ANY conviction behind it. Cas has been fuelled with something MAGNIFICENT since the Empty, and he's turned it up to 11 for Jack here :')

Jack makes the smallest smile, then turns back to his mirror.

Sam opening the door to his bedroom, framed in darkness. 10x01 parallels again - this shot as well as the demon dean one were repeated a few times through the 3 episode arc, and the demon dean one became iconic but Sam did it too, to Dean's room. Now he goes into his own... empties his pockets... he still has the fucking engraved money clip from Tall Tales because Gabriel is not only not dead but telling this entire story for us... He has the phone, that's off, because Dean is not there, not communicating with him, blah blah. And he has the keys to the Impala. Because he's the chief.

Well, the King of Hell. Damn, it took 14 years to get him there. Azazel is fucking spinning in his grave.

Ooh, phonecall! Is it Deanchael? "What do you want?"

Nope, it's Sister Jo! :D She's been standing there ALL NIGHT weighing her options and working out what she wants.

SPIN THAT CHAOS, DEANCHAEL.

Deanchael approaches a vampire, and it's that purity of Purgatory, that just wanna eat that fuelled so much of the badass stuff in season 7 with the Leviathan, everything Dean's struggled with when it comes to the black and white world of killing monsters no problem that dates back to Gordon in 2x03, that draws Deanchael to them. Because this is Dean's safe space with Benny, a real relationship based on a bond forged in pure, kill or be killed, eat or be eaten purgatory. Deanchael has the same inner machinery as Dean, because Michael is the worst version of Dean, engineered to be Dean but without love. Dean as a monster. And so it all leads here... D:

Well this will be fun :D

#14x01 #season 14 spoilers #my stuff #dabb vs cars #HECK

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elenatria · 6 years

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Weren't you going to tell us about tom's peach butt? Also i think in the past 8 years what happened was tom was too open about his love for chris in his mannerisms and for all chris is confident in his masculinity it does feel a little weird. Add to it how fangirls behave like when the pic of hiddleswortiti sleeping came out. You can be all liberal until one of your same sex friends falls for you. I don't know but I feel tom is really lonely. Hopefully he's one of those who love being lonely.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13046784

Alrightz, headcanon mode on. *puts on the tinfoil Hiddlesworth headcanon helmet* I’m ready.

Ah yes, Chris feeling weird. This Chris vid here is a good example of that. I’ve edited the last part out, but if you watch the whole interview he says “The answer is no (Tom hasn’t seen me naked)”. Good answer, doesn’t leave room for any more silly questions because he is always straightforward. But if we think of headcanon Chris (and since some people recently have almost demanded to see a bad-boy Chris as opposed to an angelic Tom) he did start feeling a little awkward with Tom’s openness. The two of them met for the first time in 2009 when they were cast for “Thor”. It was all fun and games back then, they would party all night, meet girls, get drunk, carry each other out of the bar, remove shoes and put each other to sleep on the hotel bed (depends on who was sober enough to help with those things). The filming started shortly after, things got serious, but they still spent a lot of time together. Until Chris’ life changed in 2010 and so did his priorities. That would have normally hurt Tom, who kept his feelings secret, if he wasn’t all too happy for his friend’s bliss. Still Chris kept calling him and they would spend hours talking about the development of their characters in “The Avengers”. Most of the times it was Chris making the call. He would always hesitate before dialing Tom’s number but every time he sighed with relief listening to Tom’s very posh and british “Hello”, as if a load was lifted off his chest.

“Hey Tom. Heyyyy…”

They talked and talked. Sometimes Tom would say something, or Chris would say something, and there would be long pauses. Until they were done and a heartfelt “goodnight” would come from both ends of the line.

Chris was more than happy to meet Tom again on the set of “The Avengers” although he knew something was up with his friend. Tom would spend long hours in his trailer supposedly resting or learning his lines. But he had never done this before, not so many hours, not so many days in a row, not so alone. One of those days Chris knocked on Tom’s trailer door.

“Are you ok, mate?” he said. “You need help with those lines?”

Tom puffed out a cloud of smoke and placed his cigarette on the ashtray, his script folded, filled with notes and yellow highlighter lines, placed on his lap.

“No,” he said as he blew the remaining smoke out of his nostrils. “I don’t need help with those lines.”

“You sure?” Chris asked as he entered the trailer and closed the door behind him.

“Sure sure,” Tom reassured him and went back to reading his script.

Chris stood next to his friend but it felt as if Tom was miles away, in a place of his own where he didn’t want to be disturbed. Chris searched for things to say.

“I thought you said you would quit smoking,” he joked pointing at the ashtray. “How many have you smoken since morning?”

“Twenty. Four,” Tom quipped as he finally looked Chris in the eyes. “Is that alright with you?”

“Is that…” Chris shrugged seeing that talking was worse than silence. “Sure it’s alright with me. Is… something the matter?”

“Nothing is the matter,” Tom sighed and went back to his script. “I just find it hard to concentrate.”

“You,” Chris raised a brow of doubt. “Not concentrating. You must be joking.”

“I am not,” Tom breathed and when their eyes met Chris noticed the black circles and the red eyes. Feverish and red and bigger than ever. Maybe it was Tom’s paleness, maybe it was just Chris’ imagination. And worry.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“After we came back from the pub? I tried.”

Chris looked around, looking for evidence from a wild night spent with one of the girls they met. He had left the pub earlier the previous night seeing that Tom was busy talking and laughing with those girls. He just couldn’t follow his single friend anymore on his amorous adventures. One of the girls, the brunette, seemed to be quite fascinated by “Loki”, the new sex symbol, and was almost leaning against Tom’s soldier.

“No, there’s no one here,” Tom replied to Chris’ unspoken question. “She was quite discreet.”

“You don’t seem very happy about it,” Chris narrowed his eyes.

“What’s to be happy about.”

“Dunno.” Chris shrugged and rubbed his lip. “Listen, do you want to come out for lunch, Chris and Bob said we’ll be meeting at a local lebanese taverna and…”

“I’m quite alright, thank you.” Tom didn’t even bother look at him.

“Do you… do you want us to bring back something for you to eat? Some fattoush salad, donair maybe..?”

Tom didn’t say a word. He just kept taking puffs on his cigarette and reading the script although Chris could tell he was stuck on the same page since he entered the trailer.

“What’s wrong, Tom? he muttered. “Tell me what’s wrong. If I knew you’d have such a horrible time with that girl… Lizzy… Libby… what was her name… I wouldn’t have left you alone with her,” he joked.

Tom lifted his eyes and stared back at him. “Funny that you remember her name. I don’t.”

“Well it was a beautiful name. Did you have fun at least?” he said grabbing the lighter from the table next to Tom’s chair and playing with the latch.

Tom got up and put out the cigarette in the ashtray that was filled with stubs.

“Define fun.”

Chris sank his hands in his jacket’s pockets and tilted his head in annoyance. “Do you really want me to define it, mate?” he said, alarmed by Tom’s sudden change of mood. “Do you want me to go into details? I don’t like poking my nose into your love life, you know that.”

“No, you never do,” Tom sneered. “Very nice of you. As for your question no, I didn’t have fun. It all stopped being fun a long long time ago.”

“What… what do you mean?” Chris shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Tom patted Chris’ both arms reassuringly and grinned but his eyes were cold and distant. “Nothing that you would understand.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Thomas,” Chris exclaimed and brushed back his hair from his forehead, exasperated. “Maybe you shouldn’t have gone out last night, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now. I mean if you didn’t want to go…”

“But I did want to go out yesterday. And come back here. Just… not with her.”

Chris suddenly stopped playing with the latch. He was staring at the floor as Tom’s words started to sink in. He knew he could laugh it up, make a joke about Tom choosing the other girl at the pub, then go out and eat his donair with the rest. As a matter of fact he wished he had gone straight to that restaurant instead of stopping here first. He found it hard to swallow as he was looking to find the right words, and failing. Because he had no words.

“I… I must go. Tom, I’m sorry…”

“Yes, you must. Go on, you’ll be late. They’re waiting.”

“Yes. They are.” Chris scratched the stubble on his chin and pretended he was finding his shoes fascinating. He put his hands back in his pockets. “I’ll see you later, Tom,” he said lifting his head.

“See you later.” Tom’s warm and calm voice didn’t reveal any of the despair Chris sensed before. Because that’s what this was. Fatigue and despair.

Chris exited in a hurry and walked away as fast as he could, his heart about to burst. He turned back to look at the trailer, see if Tom was standing at the door. But Tom was nowhere to be seen.

He was probably back in his chair, finally turning the next page of his script, leaving yet another cigarette to die on his lips.

#hiddlesworth #chris hemsworth #tom hiddleston #headcanon #avengers #thor #loki #cigarettes for breakfast

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growinstablog · 4 years

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Do You Like ‘You Can Do It Meme’? You Can Also Create Your Own Instagram Meme!

Creating an Instagram meme is a great way to attract people to your account. You can create a You can do it meme, or to invent something more original. But make people laugh!

If you haven’t come to the Earth from another planet and you are not a time traveler who has come from the 15th century, you definitely know what a meme is. Let’s admit that sometimes we even speak with our friends using meme captions. Right? It doesn’t matter whether you like this fact or nor, but today memes have become a real cultural phenomenon and we can’t do anything about it (but do we really need?)

Do you remember this guy?

Yes, it is a so-called ‘You can do it’ meme (sorry, memes usually do not have very creative names). we send this meme to our friends to cheer them up. We add it to our FB and IG posts when we want to motivate somebody. We can see this meme even in printed editions of magazines and newspapers. It may sound ridiculous but in the 21st century, the internet really has an impressive influence on printed media. So, it’s quite okay to see an Instagram meme on the pages of the newspaper that your grandpa reads. But I hope that you will never face such a situation as it may take long hours to explain to our grandpas what Instagram is and what a meme is.

Instagram memes: who posts them?

Memes are funny. And people like funny things. So, people like memes. These factors should be enough for you to post memes at least from time to time.

Many serious accounts also use memes. Maybe they do not publish them as traditional posts in order not to spoil the total look of their feeds. However, if you want to post something that doesn’t correspond to the concept of your account, you always have Stories. Relax, I am just looking. Or not. Okay, Stories are good not only because they disappear in 24 hours but because they are a great way to boost the activity of your followers.

If we are talking about the You can do it meme, it doesn’t mean that you need to post the original version with a toddler in a white and green shirt. You can create something like that with your funny photo. Yes, it will also work. Just a couple of examples for your inspiration.

By the way, have you already seen this amazing ‘LinkedIn, Facebook, Instagram, Tinder’ meme? Come on, babe, just google it. This is incredibly funny. Many bloggers have already published their versions and received their portion of likes, comments and shares.

The creation of this Instagram meme has become a real flashmob. But have you heard where all this took its roots? It was Dolly Parton (American singer and actress) who was the first to post such a joke.

How can Instagram meme help in your promotion?

Okay, we have just agreed that memes are funny (I hope that you’ve agreed with me).

But let’s summarize what has been said to understand what a good Instagram meme can offer you (especially if you are a blogger or a business owner).

Memes can get a lot of likes.

People quite often leave comments under funny memes.

People share memes, especially when they are posted in Stories (and their followers can get interested in visiting your account).

With the right hashtags your memes can be noticed among the most trendy posts.

But now you may be wondering where to take these “right” hashtags. There are here. Yes, it is our super cool Hashtag generator that can offer you a list of hashtags based on a keyword or image. You can either upload a pic or enter a link to your post. Good hashtags are guaranteed.

So, as you see, to enjoy the benefits that memes can offer you, you do not need to manage an account that posts only memes. An Instagram meme can be just a way to diversify your content.

How to create an Instagram meme?

To tell the truth, it is not the most difficult task. No skills of graphic designers are needed. Of course, you can try to create such an account using practically any photo editor but it may be a little bit challenging.

Today there is a long lost of different Instagram meme makes (both web and mobile versions). Use Google.

To create a meme in such maker is very simple.

You need to upload a photo.

Add top text.

Add bottom text.

And yes, click the Generate button.

Well done!

I hope that after reading this article you’ve got a clear understanding of why Instagram memes are so widely used. Right? Or maybe you have already created and posted your own one? I am sure that your meme is extremely funny.

https://growinsta.xyz/do-you-like-you-can-do-it-meme-you-can-also-create-your-own-instagram-meme/

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longforgottenunofficial · 7 years

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The Pet Cemeteries

Yes, there are two. Imagineer Kim Irvine (daughter of "Madame Leota" Leota Toombs) came up with the idea for the first one in the early 1980's. Not a lot of time and effort went into the project. Kim just purchased off-the-shelf yard statues of a dog, cat, skunk, and frog (complete with mouth hole for squirting water) and had Imagineer Chris Goosman compose some macabre epitaphs for the pedestals. They were put in the vacant yard on the north side of the HM, alongside the wheelchair access path, reportedly to give them something to look at over there.

(pic by Monstersgoboo)

BIG JAKE Here lies my good dog Jake. Chasing a toad down a well was his one mistake. In memoriam MISS KITTY After losing eight lives you still had no fear. You caught a snake in your ninth and that's why you're here. R.I.P. BULLY You didn't drink, you didn't smoke. I just can't figure what made you croak. In loving memory of our pet STRIPEY You may be departed, But your presence will always linger on. Everyone seemed to like this little HM secret, so in 1993 they put another one in the front yard.

It has proven so popular that they subsequently added similar pet cemeteries to the WDW and Tokyo HMs. And so on. Those are the well-known facts, familiar to most Mansionites, if not to the general public. Beyond that basic history, no one has bothered to say much. But Long-Forgotten readers are a tough and discriminating audience. They ask, nay, demand more. Pry up those rocks and see what's crawling around underneath. A new addition came to the original pet cemetery in the summer of 2016. They needed to add another exhaust vent for the train tunnel going behind the HM and decided to make a virtue of necessity by disguising the vent as a crypt. So far so good, but the crypt is in the pet cemetery, and they made it up as a goofy, elephant grave. The crypt itself is tolerable, falling within the wide embrace of Victorian eccentricity (which, after all, gave us elephant foot umbrella stands), but that trunk looks absolutely awful. How can anyone over the age of eight, let alone Disney Imagineering, look at the exterior and landscaping of the Anaheim HM and conclude that it is an appropriate venue for this sort of zany kookiness? Barf. This looks like a refugee from the execrable queue in Orlando, disaffectionately known in these parts as PLQ:

Sometime around October a plaque appeared on the front:

More cutsie-wootsie stuff, ill-suited to the dignified exterior of the HM. And I hadn't noticed the mouse in previous photos, so I'll point to it now as part of the whole package. Anyway, bleahh. I'm only glad all of this is in a place generally unseen and easily ignored. I look forward to spending a lot of time forgetting it exists. As I said in the last post, I'm not a huge fan of the PC. I think most purists and traditionalists see it as an unwelcome intrusion of sheer fantasy before the attraction even begins and would happily see it gone. That's more or less been my position too, and yet I can't get worked up about it. Something about the pet cemetery is okay, and it's time to figure out why. Let's take a closer look. Much of the front yard version simply repeats the formula of the old one. Once again you've got a lot of store-bought statuary sitting on pedestals with macabre epitaphs. In fact, two of the statues (the frog and the skunk) are virtually identical to their back yard counterparts, although they have new names and texts. The main difference out here is that some dates are attached. The frog is "Old Flybait" ("He croaked, August 9 1869") and the skunk is "Beloved Lilac" ("Long on curiosity...Short on common scents, 1847"). There's also "Rosie" ("She was a poor little pig, but she bought the farm, 1849") and a dog named "Buddy" ("Our friend until the end"). The latter may be a long-overdue tribute to Buddy Baker, the musical genius behind the HM score. The dating formula is obvious in the case of Old Flybait; it's exactly 100 years before the HM opening day, and this suggests that the other dates are really cryptic references to 1947 and 1949, probably the birth years of the Imagineers involved. There's nothing terribly out of place in any of these examples. They are all of a piece. We can easily imagine one or several family members in the mansion's long history being animal lovers and burying their pets out front, complete with whimsical epitaphs. Even if the choice of animals is eccentric in some cases, there is nothing surreal involved, not even anything supernatural. In one case, however, these conventional statues are arranged in such a way as to suggest that the animals involved have business to conduct in the afterlife.

There is a clever thematic continuity between this cluster and some of the relationships you encounter inside the house. Imagine the graveyard executioner, a man who in life wielded the power of death but who has now followed his victims into the grave. It's called irony. Better still, imagine the cat as Constance and the birds as her husbands, and you can feel the same chemistry at work. No one forms a partnership with Death so powerful and so lasting as to avoid the same fate as Death's other victims. It's a classic statement, made at least three times in the attraction, starting with this tableau. I think the cat-and-bird set is perhaps the high water mark of the pet cemeteries. There is, however, a whole other set of grave markers. These are original WDI designs, and they have a more fantastical flavor. I suspect that it is these that rub some fans the wrong way. There's Fi Fi the dog, with her cruciform tombstone made of crossed bones and her portrait with crossed-X eyes (like in the funnies). This piece is significant for reasons that have nothing to do with the intentions of the designers. It represents a change in the general culture between 1969 and 1993, but that will be the topic of another post. For the moment, I'll simply note that it is the only cross-shaped headstone in the entire attraction, including all of the scale models and all of Marc Davis's concept art. The other weird monuments are for a snake, a bat, a rat, a fish, and a spider. The pieces are nothing if not stylish.

It's a good deal harder to imagine these as simply the products of animal lovers in the Mansion's history. The style of the monuments themselves is too bizarre. Perhaps we are to imagine not merely animal lovers, but insane animal lovers, if we want to keep these within the imaginative realm of a real house with a history of real occupants—which is the starting point of the HM voyage. If imagining these pet monuments as items designed by crazy family members seems a stretch, then these freaky-deaky things simply don't belong here. For me, there are enough tales of nutball Victorians to keep it all just barely within bounds. As if to illustrate exactly that point, Craig Conley sent me in November of 2016 the following clipping from a 1913 edition of Popular Mechanics,noting an 1855 grave marker for a fish.

Okay, even if we are not necessarily in the realm of fantasy, you still wonder what the original Imagineers were shooting for. In one of the Long-Forgotten threads at Micechat, someone argued that pieces like Freddie the Bat were inspired by Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas, which would eventually take over the whole Mansion every Fall and Winter, of course. If you compare concept art for Freddie with typical NBC artwork, the similar look and feel is indeed striking.

But the dating is against it. NBC was released the same year the pet cemetery was installed: 1993. Better to look elsewhere for inspiration for this fantastic and surreal streak. [Edit: But see new evidence below.] As a matter of fact, the original HM Imagineers did kick around some lunatic pet ideas for the HM. Ken Anderson toyed with having a man-eating octopus in a pit in the middle of a room in his 1957 Ghost House. Which is pretty . . . out there.

Then there's this delightful but unused Marc Davis gag:

But if we're looking for justification for adding an element of the strange and fantastic to the Haunted Mansion, the obvious place to look is in Rolly Crump's unused "Museum of the Weird" designs. Do I detect a whiff of the Museum in the pet cemetery? (Or *sniff* is that just a dead fish?)

Very, very few people know this, but Rolly actually designed some bizarre tombstones for the HM. Where they would have been used, I can't imagine, but it must be admitted that Freddie the Bat has nothing on Velma Wingspan when it comes to eccentricity, and isn't the spidery lettering style used on the pet cemetery stones just a teeny weeny bit reminiscent of Rolly's "Museum" font?

"But even if Ken, Marc, and Rolly kicked these kinds of ideas around, they ultimately decided NOT to go in that direction, so even if the pet cemetery Imagineers were drawing inspiration from those guys, they also overrode their judgment by going ahead with this kind of thing." Yeah, I hear that, and it's a good point, but I still take some comfort in the idea that the newer Imagineers respected and revered the original masters and sought to draw inspiration from their work. And anyway, since the pet cemetery, even at its most surreal, can be placed within the imaginative orbit of the Mansion, I've decided to call a truce on this one. New Evidence for Tim Burton's Influence One of our "Anonymous" commenters directs our attention to a short 1984 film by Tim Burton, Frankenweenie, produced by Walt Disney pictures. Reportedly, Disney fired Burton after making it, claiming he had wasted company resources and had produced a film too dark for Disney to use. It later had video and DVD releases. Well, SOMEONE at Disney liked the film. There can be little doubt that it was a direct influence on the front yard pet cemetery. The film is a parody/homage to Frankenstein, so there are important graveyard scenes—in a pet graveyard. It appears also in the film's opening titles.

Fifi's tombstone at Disneyland is obviously taken almost directly from this movie.

There are several bone-cruciform tombstones in the Frankenweenie cemetery, but "Sparky" is the main animal character in the film.

Even the shape of Fifi's head and the "X's" for her eyes may havebeen inspired by various other tombstones seen in the film.

Then there's "Earl."

There are also tombstones for a goldfish and a snake in the Burton graveyard.

This raises the distinct possibility that Imagineers (or at least Kim Irvine) were aware of Burton's work on Nightmare while it was in production and saw some of the models, and so possibly that artwork was an additional influence on the style of the 1993 HM pet cemetery. A big thanks goes to "Anonymous" for the tip.

Originally Posted: Monday, July 19, 2010 Original Link: [x]

#long forgotten #haunted mansion #graveyard queue #pet cemeteries

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dramallamadingdang · 7 years

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Overdue Replies

Holy crap, this is long, OMG. I’m so sorry.

For @pensblr, @bunsblr, @shaonharryandpannisim, @newlibertysims, @fuzzyspork, @littleblondesim, @kayleigh-83, @penig, @damask-wallpaper, @acquiresimoleons, @sim-pudding-faces, @digitalangels, @celebkiriedhel, @unoriginalkirsten, @alicephant, annnnnnnnnnd @landgraab.

pensblr replied to your photoset “More paneling because I wanted some with narrower individual boards. I...”

Thank you! Love the high-res textures. Lately, I have been on a swap-out as many low-res textures as possible kick.

Ohhhhhh, then you are either going to love me or want to murder me in my sleep. Possibly both. :)

But yeah, I decided I wanted all the things high-res for this new Strangetown project. Mostly because I’m going to be photo-editing all the pictures and I want things as nice-looking as possible to start with and not have to worry about pixellation in the background if I’m taking close-ups and stuff. So, that means I have to make a lot of crap since I’m pretty much building a downloads folder from the ground up for it. Build mode first, since I’ll be building lots for the place soon...

bunsblr replied to your photoset “More paneling because I wanted some with narrower individual boards. I...”

One can never have enough paneling!

That’s my feeling! It’s versatile! You can use it inside as paneling or outside as vertical siding. Both were big mid-century, which is pretty much what I’ll be building so...yeah. One sets of walls, multiple purposes.

shaonharryandpannisim replied to your photoset “More paneling because I wanted some with narrower individual boards. I...”

I had resisted the pull of those sofas. But I can NOT, for the love of Maxis, resist THESE.

Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own.

newlibertysims replied to your photo “Napoleon, not being an asshole. For once. He actually got along quite...”

That street needs a Cat Licking sign.

Orrrrr the cat needs to stay out of the road. Then again, cats like roads. Nice and waaaaaaaaarm.... :)

fuzzyspork replied to your photo “Napoleon, not being an asshole. For once. He actually got along quite...”

It's a good thing random cars don't drive past the lots in TS2. XD

They do when you have that fire hydrant that makes car pool vehicles drive by occasionally! I’m not using that in this neighborhood, though. Not yet, anyway. I don’t reckon it has much vehicle traffic, what with there being only three households and all. :)

littleblondesim replied to your photoset “Meanwhile, over at the pool hall, schmoozing with Review Guy has its...”

http://www.wordlab.com/name-generators/ :)

See, I knew someone would point me at one! :) *is lazyass* Thank you!

kayleigh-83 replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

In which my eyes roll so hard they fall out of my head and across the floor...... lmao honestly anon, get a life.

They have a life! IT IS FULL OF CHEAP WHISKEY! ;)

kayleigh-83 replied to your photo “I can’t be the only one who thinks the poses that Sim-kids strike...”

So agree! I kind of wish Sims retained some of it as they age, like maybe more active Sims stayed more "active" sleepers? Would have been extra cute!

It would have been! I mean, some people never grow out of being restless, flailing, bed-hogging sleepers. *side-eyes husband*

kayleigh-83 replied to your photo “Heh. Took a break from hurling invective at the game’s lighting to...”

That's such a creative idea to make Sim paintings out of it! I love hanging art or photography in my Sims homes that are of their own world, it adds a kind of realism I appreciate! Just like we would hang photos or paintings of our own world.

I have always kinda wanted to do the “take in-game pics and turn them into family pictures” thing...but I’ve never actually done it. One, because I just don’t have the patience to do posing. Two, because even if I had the patience I’m utterly bewildered by poseboxes. Like, how on Earth do you keep track of which box has what poses? Especially because most of them “helpfully” give the poses names like “Pose 1.” I’m just all WTF when it comes to them.

But I can do scenery pics as paintings/photos, yeah!

fuzzyspork replied to your photo “Heh. Took a break from hurling invective at the game’s lighting to...”

NICE! Also, if you ever want to hate something that used to be fun for you, just do it as your job for a while. XD

Exactly! That’s why I really didn’t want to be a musician when I grew up! I wanted to be an architect! Unfortunately, math and I have that whole hate/hate relationship going on, so no architecture degree for me! And, as it turns out, music is the only bankable talent I have, given that I have no interest in having a “real job” with bosses and stuff because I’d just get my ass fired if I tried to have one. So, here we are! Thankfully, it didn’t kill my lurve. Probably because it’s such a wide-ranging field, so if you hammer on one aspect of it as your job, there are all sorts of other things you can do for fun.

penig replied to your photoset “OK, game-graphics nerds! I haz question! (Yes, @celebkiriedhel, I’m...”

I had to look intensely to see what you were talking about. I do notice that in my game and I think of it as realism. Because you can see the lines between panels and breadths of wallpaper IRL.

Well, yeah, I can see that with wallpaper. It does have seams IRL, at least. But for flat painted walls, where the “gradient thing” is the most noticeable because there’s otherwise no pattern to distract your eye? Yeah, that doesn’t work as well. :) *still busily hurling invective at Maxis and their stupid lighting calculations and going why, why, WHYYYYYYYYY?!*

damask-wallpaper replied to your photoset “Technicolor was a series of processes used in filmmaking mostly...”

What a fun idea! Who doesn't love the technicolor look?

I love, love, love old movies, with a special fondness for B-movies from the 50s/60s done on the cheap with bad Technicolor when Technicolor was no longer cool. So, yeah, I love the look, myself, whether it’s done well or badly. I think it’ll be fun to photoedit pics for retro-Strangetown.

I kinda wonder if it might be possible to get ReShade to make the game itself look like it’s in Technicolor, but I’ve never managed to get ReShade to work with my TS2 install, so I can’t experiment with that. :(

acquiresimoleons replied to your photoset “Since his mama had decided to visit, Steven made a special dinner....”

Yaaay werewolf! (I'm pretty sure that's what's happening anyway lmao)

Yup, he’s a werewolf! :) I’ve always liked the transformation sequence in TS2. It’s so drama-ful. :)

sim-pudding-faces replied to your photo “And then it was time for Baby Aaron to grow up… Ermagerd, he’s cute!...”

Aww.. lil guy is trying to be stud at an early age, eh?

It’s all about the laydeez! Or maybe about the bois! Or maybe both! Dunno what he’ll like yet. But yes, a stud from infancy, he is. ;)

digitalangels replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

I'd love to see how anon's game looks to see what is "stepping it up" in their books but I bet they're too much coward to give their name for us to see. And anyway, isn't half of the point in Sims games customizing it to look how *you* want *your* game to look like or have I been doing it wrong all these years?

Yeah, it’s kind of funny how such people who leave such messages don’t give you any points of reference. “Stepping it up” is meaningless without such things. I mean, how else are we to know if we’re “stepping it up” properly?

No, really, I think some people are just really offended by non-Maxis-match and/or using older CC and/or shinier hair/skin textures these days. But, I’m uninterested in Maxis-match (for my own game; I like looking at other Maxis-matchers’ pics, though!), and I like a bit of shine because we do not live in a matte/cartoony world, so such folks and me will just never see eye-to-eye when it comes to game aesthetics. And that’s OK by me, but apparently not by them. Or something. I’m still going with “bottle of whiskey + nothing better to do on a Friday night so let’s *hurr hurr* try to make people angry” theory. To each their own!

newlibertysims replied to your photo “GilsCarburg, in moody Technicolor. ;) OK gotta stop fiddling with this...”

Reminds me of lazy, hazy, crazy days of...fall. XD

Fall! Fall is good! I can’t wait to get this whole summer business over with! I need to live in a place where it’s fall year-round. Which pretty much means another planet, but hey! I’m game for that!

newlibertysims replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

Nothing wrong with being 2008 hot. Just ask Jenna Marbles!

*had to look up Jenna Marbles because I’m totally un-hip to the whole “youtube personality” thing* But yeah! Totally! Other than finding my soulmate in 2013, I think this decade totally bites, personally. Actually, now that I think about it, so far this century ain’t so great, IMO. Tonight, we’re gonna party like it’s 1999. ;)

penig replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

I think, from the voice of certain anons you've responded to lately that you've picked up my stalker. She doesn't like taking responsibility for what she says by putting a face on. And she is persistent as heck.

O RLY?! Oh, the fun we will have, then! Bring it on, anon, bring it on!

fuzzyspork replied to your link “Tips For Manipulating The Sourness Of Your Sourdough”

Ah! I needed this too! I always hated the sourdough we used to make because it was way too tangy (hubby loved it though). He works for a German company and one of the managers offered him some of her 100+ year old starter. I'll have to give it a shot.

Oh, yeah, totally. I’d definitely take her up on her offer. Even if it’s not to your taste to start, you can futz with it. You could even split it and develop a tangier starter and a not-so-tangy one, to suit both your tastes. ‘Course, then you’ve got double the upkeep, but it might be worth it...

fuzzyspork replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

TS2 is 13 years old. I have no idea what "step it up to 2017" even means.

Right? I mean, TS2 is almost from the last century and all. Why must we force it into crappy 2017? I think it would make it cry. ;)

...Unless we’re talking 2017BCE. That would be cool...

celebkiriedhel replied to your photo “Steven does the annoyed potty-training faces, too. Yes, it’s an...”

But what a manly hairy chest!!

Yeah, the GilsCarbo men are hairballs. ;) Well, the three of them so far, anyway. ;)

celebkiriedhel replied to your post “acquiresimoleons replied to your post: ...”

I used to keep mine on top of the fridge - the top of the fridge was warm from the motor. :)

That’s a good spot, too! The fridges in our places are built-ins, though, so you can’t put stuff on top of them. Which actually sort of sucks, but on the other hand the aesthetics of built-ins please me, so....Rock, hard place. ;)

celebkiriedhel replied to your link “Tips For Manipulating The Sourness Of Your Sourdough”

Thanks for this! I used to make my own bread when I was younger, and I miss having a sourdough starter living in my house.

It is rather fun when the oldest thing in your house is a living being. :)

celebkiriedhel replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

LOL. Lets play 'How old the anon is'! My guess is early teens, with an entitlement phase of a toddler.

Yeah, if the “whiskey + lack of social life” theory isn’t correct, then I’m going with Age ~15. (No offense to sane 15-year-olds out there, but some of y’all...) Of course, being 15 and the “whiskey + lack of social life” theory aren’t necessarily mutually-exclusive, so...

unoriginalkirsten replied to your photo “And then it was time for Baby Aaron to grow up… Ermagerd, he’s cute!...”

That is spectacular baby balancing right there!

Like those folks who can balance spinning basketballs on their fingertips! Of course, balancing a spinning baby is far more impressive...

alicephant replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

Lol how dare you have a game that you find aesthetically pleasing �� anon is a poo head.

Is it just me, or is “poo head” just a way better insult than “shithead?” I mean, the former, when done right, is just so much more condescending. (And not in the Regency-era sense of the word, either. ;) ) But yeah, I agree. :)

landgraab replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

"I don't like *your* game, so change it!!!"

Pretty much, yeah. Ya gotta wonder how anyone would think that such a demand would actually work, that anyone would just change everything about what they do in the game because some people don’t like their aesthetic. I mean, it’s not like those of us who don’t conform to “popular” trends are somehow unaware that we’re not conforming to popular treads. Especially when our general pattern in life is being deliberate in our refusal to conform to popular trends about anything, not just a silly game. ;)

#pensblr #bunsblr #shaonharryandpannisim #newlibertysims #fuzzyspork #littleblondesim #kayleigh-83 #penig #damask-wallpaper #acquiresimoleons #sim-pudding-faces #digitalangels #celebkiriedhel #unoriginalkirsten #alicephant #landgraab #replies

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itshyejung · 5 years

Text

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not - Chen Linong

Type: Scenario

(Not gonna do genres bc tbh idk how to categorize my scenarios? I guess they’re fluff I mean they’re not rly angsty and def not smut so... just cute? Who even knows lmao)

Characters: Nine Percent Chen Linong x you

(Pics are edited by me so pls give credit. Scenarios are not requested, I came up with all these a long time ago but never really shared them publicly, so hope you guys enjoy! I tried to be creative with each scenario and not do super cliche or boring ones but I think all of them are still kinda cliche lmao...)

The florist’s had never been so busy before, but here you were hauling in boxes and boxes of flower orders your aunt had just placed to keep the stocks up in the shop. There was a large truck in the back parking lot that was filled with many floral arrangements. How many did your aunt even order? Too many to count. There was barely any room left at the display windows, so you had no choice but to push them towards the counter, where they almost crowded the cash register. You would have to deal with them later, there were more out back.

You thanked the delivery man, signed your name on his clipboard, and stood looking disbelief at the ros of pots and plants that were lined at your feet as he drove away. Where were you doing to find the time and spot to put them? With a sigh, you picked up the first pot of orchids and tugged it inside, searching carefully. At least the shop hadn’t opened yet, so you still had some time. However, you had to hurry. Any passerby might see the row of flowers outside an empty parking lot and think it was weird. You checked your watch: 45 minutes until opening hours to move 60 pots of flowers. You were in trouble.

Feeling like an idiot, you ran up the stairs to your ream and began fixing the flower pots all over the floor of your room. Besides, if you ran out of one kind of flower, you’d just have to run right up there and bring one down, pretending it was the second stock room. Right? No one would know. Except maybe your aunt, who was on maternity leave due to her pregnancy, might have a fit when she comes to visit, yelling about how the flowers don’t have proper sunlight and water supply. Speaking of, the ones downstairs probably don’t either. Oops.

You fished around the real storage room for the watering can and took it to the sink, impatiently waiting for it to fill up with water. You had ten minutes lefto before opening time. Hurriedly, you dragged the watering can over to the row of flowers spread in a row under grow lights, lightly sprinkling water over the delicate petals. Why was such a small watering can so heavy?

You stepped back to admire how fast you’d gotten it all done. Then you cringed. Hopefully you hadn’t drowned the flowers. They looked fine; presentable at least. As a florist’s assistant, that was good enough for you. Your aunt could check on it later.

It was a weekend and you had to managed the store, as the only other employee your aunt had hired so far worked on the weekdays when you had school. If this was going to be your potential job, the least you could do was work weekends while your aunt was on maternity leave.

You flipped the closed sign over to open and ran upstairs quickly to bring two more flower pots down, just for presentation. Although there was practically no room on your counter, you managed to squish them both on there without knocking over any of them. You heard the bell ring in front of the store as someone pushed open the door hurriedly.

“Yes hello, welcome to-“ You stopped short in your tracks when you realized just who had stepped foot in your store: one of your favorite regular customers, Chen Linong. He also served as your current secret crush. Your heart bloomed like the flowers in the shop whenever you saw him, and you definitely felt lighter around his presence. There was something about him that distinguished him from other guys that girls usually had a crush on: although he seemed shy, he didn’t care about things like people seeing a teenage boy hanging around in a florist’s shop. No one called him a loser for it either, because they knew a guy like him had his reasons.

“H-hi,” Linong blurted, turning an alarming shade of red in the face. Was he sick? Was it hot in here? Come to think of it…

Maybe the fact that a teenage boy coming to the flower shop was starting to eat at him. But you didn’t mind. You could stare at him admiring your floral arrangements all day, and every day you tried to perfect the arrangements to his liking. “Um, do you need any help finding a specific type of flower?”

“No thanks, I’m fine.” He smiled straight at you… wait, it wasn’t like there was someone else in the room anyway.

“Oh, um, feel free to look around!” You cringed. What were you saying? Didn’t he already say he was fine? Why did you keep bothering him?

“Yeah I will, thank you,” he said and knelt down so that his eye level was parallel to that of a pot of sunflowers. He was so close that his nose was almost buried in the petals. You thought it was a funny image and almost burst out laughing, but then you remembered that you hated your laugh, and besides, you’d rather not disturb the silence in the shop right now.

Just you and Linong… this was the way it should be.

_______________________________________________________________________

The florist’s was one heck of a busy place. Were there really that many people who wanted to buy flowers? All the times you had read about florists in books, they’d always had a quiet, tranquil attitude, not some busy, rushed attitude. Plus, the literal flower boys who worked there were always described so prettily and cutesy and here you were… scared you were going to knock over one of the pots on your counter.

“Ma’am, can I get a pot of lilies, please?”

“I still haven’t gotten my order of a six set amaryllis and astible mix.”

“Do you have any sunflower arrangements left?” Linong grinned crookedly at you and jokingly hid the sunflower pot he was admiring earlier behind his body secretly.

“Yes, I’ll be right there…” you called, barely hearing your own voice. What was it, roses, orchids, sunflowers? Or daffodils, carnations, sunflowers? All you remembered were the sunflowers hidden behind Linong’s body, and you hurried to get them. He had on a yellow sweater today, the same color as the sunflowers, and he sighed like he had been caught red-handed with his masterful camoflauge plan. But he smiled to let you know he was still joking. You rolled your eyes and dragged the damn heavy thing back to the counter, where the first two customers in line stood patiently waiting for their… delphiniums and irises. Sweat peas and lilac.

“Lilies, amaryllis, and astible!” you muttered a little too loudly to yourself, the sound of you snapping your fingers echoing off the walls of the small, cramped shop. You looked around at all the faces staring at you. “I-I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.”

You ran upstairs, oblivious to the fact that Linong was watching you trip over the stairs towards your room in the shop. In fact, there were many things Linong knew that you were oblivious to. There was the fact that he knew you lived up there, on the second floor of the building in which the florist’s shop lay at the bottom of. He also knew that every night, after you closed the shop, you would open the balcony doors to your room, sometimes blasting your music while you did your homework, which the neighborhood never minded of. You’d then water your hanging plants delicately before closing the doors again. Sometimes he rode his bike here, and as he was wheeling away, he would see your figure in the dim light of your room. He knew you lived independently, as you had been given the spare room on top of the florist’s ever since you started working there by your aunt. He knew all these things about your life and yet he still didn’t know how to talk to you.

You appeared at the bottom of the stairs again, dragging the designated flower pots with you and handing them to the right customers. linong sighed, waiting patiently as he rocked back and forth on his small heels, curling his feet along the insides of the rubber soles as he stalled for time. He couldn’t wait to get started with the new project he had planned in mind, and he really needed your help. But it seemed like you were too busy to notice him standing there. A bit dejected, he turned back to the flowers, now remembering you had snatched his sunflowers away. He chuckled to himself and began to browse along the rows, selecting a new flower in his mind.

The sound of a ringing bell and the clicking of cashier keys rang throughout the shop all day. Linong was getting tired of waiting. He stood up and suddenly saw a spare apron hanging off a crooken nail in the wall. He scrambled up to get it and tied it on himself. You looked at him incredulously. What was he getting himself into?

“Let me help you,” he said, sliding into a spot at the counter next to you. You smiled so big you were afraid your teeth would fall out right there in front of him.

“U-um… you don’t have to! I can manage by myself!” You gently pushed him out of the way and busied yourself with rummaging through the coin box to find change for the customer at the front of the line.

“Are you sure about that?” HIs eyes looked so sincere you almost felt bad about lying to him about how tired you were. BUt it wasn’t right to complain to a customer like him about your job. Besides, you’d picked this job because you genuinely loved flowers, and you especially loved your aunt, the professional florist who had given you this job in her very own florist business. She was even nice enough to let you have the small room upstairs. You couldn’t let her down, but… “I’ve been watching you all day, and I’m pretty sure you would love some help, wouldn’t you?”

You blushed madly, unable to believe he’d make you feel this way. “A-ah… whatever you say,” you said hastily, pushing a few flower pots aside. However, you forgot for a second how crowded the counter had been and you knocked one over the edge. Linong was quick to retrieve it, wiping his brow. “That was close, wasn’t it? Now aren’t you glad I came to your rescue?”

You blushed even more. “Sure.”

“Hey, it’s really sweet that you two lovebirds are chitchatting over there, but I need my order urgently, miss!” a lady in a long white trencth coat called from the middle of the line. You and Linong both scrambled a good distance away from each other and began to take care of customers’ needs and wants from opposite sides of the counter. Occasionally, you’d both turn heads to look at each other for a split second, then quickly look away.

When you finally turned over the “Open” sign hanging on the inside of the door, Linong was collapsed on the counter. Luckily, most of the flowers had cleaned away, so his tall frame had a lot of space to lean on. “Wow, I don’t know how you go through this every day. I-I mean the job is nice, it’s just… for a high school student like you, isn’t it a bit, um, too much?” he suddenly stuttered.

You opened another door to a small kitchen and grabbed two cups, preparing to make tea for the both o fyou. “It’s honestly fun work for me. Maybe it’s hard on you a bit, because you’ve never experienced this before, but that’s okay. You’ll find your strength someday and have a career that keeps you going. For me, it’s being a florist. My aunt was the one who educated me in this area, so I’ve always followed her footsteps.” You added water to the tea bags in the cups and carried them out to the main shop. Linong gingerly took the handle of the one you held out to him.

“Amazing,” he said in the most innocent voice he could manage. “Well, it’s good that you don’t mind this job. I think it suits you a lot. I mean, you’re practically as pretty as a flower yourself,” he complimented. You shied away, hiding your face in your hair for a brief moment.

“Hey, I just had an odd question. What are your top seven flower recommendations for girls?” He drained the last of his tea and set the cup down. It shined pristinely, like there had never been tea in there. Amazing. Did he like tea that much?

You were suddenly flustered. “U-uh, I have a list on the business website. You can find it there…. there are pretty much recommendations for everyone.”

“Thanks, Well I’ll be talking my leave now. Take it easy, alright?” He saluted you and backtracked out the door. You saluted him back with a small smile, The way he had voice his question was like he had someone in his mind that he liked. Who was it going to be? Maybe Yawei, the president of the debate team and co-captain of the cheerleading squad: both the brainy and athletic type of Asian. Or maybe it would be Tiancai, that one genius Asian artist who always got praised for her artwork even though she made a mess of it (“Now that’s real art!” the teacher said) and wore paint-splotched clothes to school without a care.

You trudged up the stairs with heavy feet, ready to literally crash into your bed. Then you remembered your lit homework sat untouched in your backpack for tomorrow.

Take it easy, my ass.

_______________________________________________________________________

After another couple of days, you were minding the florist shop as usual when Linong walked into the shop with a slight bounce to his step. Okay, unusual. Maybe he was just extra happy and bright today. After all, wasn’t that what he was known for at school? Being overly optimistic?

“Can I help you with anything?” you approahced him, just like a regular employee at a store would do. He shook his head like usual, explaining that he was just browsing. “In fact, I found a pretty cool flower along the way here. Do you guys have these?”

He held up a daisy and you laughed. “What don’t we have?”

You tended to a few more customers that morning, and sometimes your line of sight would stray over to where Linong squatted. When the last of the morning rush customers had gone, you turned back to Linong. He was like a stray cat that always hung out in your shop and stayed by your side the entire day, doing aimless things. Now, he had that silly daisy in his hand again, only this time half the petals were plucked off and were in a messy arrangement around his feet.

“She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me…” You chuckled as he counted the petals of an odd-petaled flower. Reaching the end, he jumped up and rushed up to your counter. Remembering your job, you also quickly rushed behind it. Linong never bought anything, which you didn’t mind, but you, as a florist, needed to attend to all customer’s needs.

“One orchid arrangement, please!” he said, placing an array of dollar bills and coins on the counter.

“Coming right up.” You reached beneath you and pulled out what you thought had been your best arrangement of orchids and proudly handed it to him. “Here’s your change.” Pause. “For anyone in particular?” You poised a pen over the blank tag on the pot, ready to get indirect dirt on the girl he liked.

“Yes, a very special girl. She’s the most beautiful one, too. Just write that down,” he said nonchalantly. You half-heartedly wrote that on the tag, secretly half-wishing it would be you. Of course it wouldn’t. You bet 60% that it was Yawei, but Tiancai wouldn’t be half bad either.

“Thanks! I hope these will do the trick. I got them from the list of recommendations you personally put on the website, you know.” He winked and left.

Earlier than usual. And little did he know orchids were your favorites.

_______________________________________________________________________

Every day after that he would purchase a new flower arrangement. Tulips. Roses. Delphiniums. Poppies. Asters. And finally, hydrangea. He even requested for a single sunflower. Each day he bought your next favorite. He seemed to get cheerier each day, his hands full of fresh dollar bills and coins. You found yourself forcing a smile each day he came. You had a crush on him so badly you couldn’t stand seeing him take flowers out of your shop for some other girl that he liked when he was the one you liked. How dare he?

Okay, okay, so it was your fault you never told him. Best just to be a regular old florist and not Linong’s secret admirer.

Strangely, on the eighth day, he hadn’t come in at all. With the amount of dedication he had to buying flowers for his girl, you’d think he would have bought something at your shop every day, 365 days a year. But there was no sign of him. Sighing, you flipped the “Open” sign over. You decided to call a few of your friends to help you with a project.

It was another huge flower arrangement order, but this time it was a surprise for someone special. In a few days, your aunt would have her first abby shower with her newlywed husband. This was an event you couldn’t miss, and you wanted to see her after missing her so much on maternity leave. In fact, your flower arrangements had been so successful a couple motnhs ago at her wedding that you suddenly loved your new skill and was soon obsessed with it. Ever since, you’ve had a knack for creating artistic flower arrangements and made the business of the florist shop even larger. That way, your aunt felt that it was afe to hand off major responsibilities to you. Besides, you were almost graduating. Shouldn’t all 17-year-olds have a small, stable job now?

As you waited for your friends to arrive, you heard a soft knocking on the glass of the shop’s door. It was Linong, carrying what looked like a giant lion head. Nope, never mind; in the street light it was more of a giant flower arrangement in a straw basket, with the single sunflower he’d just bought recently sticking out. You opened the door and stepped out into the cold, steam rising from the breath you took. “It looks nice.”

“Isn’t it?” He looked proud. “Thanks to you.” Your grimace dropped. “You really helped me out this time. I owe you. When I gift this to the girl I love, I’ll definitely make sure to give you credit!”

You remembered all those times he had secretly broken your heart, all those times he had left your shop with a new bundle of flowers, all those stupid gooddamn times you had to write “to the most special, beautiful girl I know” on the blank tags while gagging inside.

Your friends arrived soon after and you had to shut Linong out of your life now. He looked a bit disappointed as you ran pu the stairs to your room, beginning to work on the 250 flower arrangements for your aunt’s baby shower. His heart felt heavy as he carried the equally heavy basket back to his house. If only you knew…

The day of your aunt’s baby shower finally arrived, and you woke up worried. You had arranged carpools with your friends to get the 250 flower arrangements to the baby shower location before the actual baby shower started so that your aunt wouldn’t notice. Then you remembered that Linong would be there. Oh, screw him! Weren’t you trying to get over him anyway? Why were you still worrying about him? You struggled to lift the delicate flowers into the trunks of your friends’ cars. On the way there, you discussed your Linong dilemma with them, and they were very supportive in saying that they would stand up with you against him whenver needed.

Finally, everything was in place. Your aunt and new uncle arrived in a sleek black car and even got to walk down a makeshift red carpet of red rose petals. When they stepped out, all the guests cheered at the sight of an obvious baby bump. You couldn’t wait for a new baby cousin. Maybe you could be the next teacher in the family’s florist generation, and you could get to teach your cousin. Unless if he was a boy; then he wouldn’t be interested.

After listening to a long speech about how much your aunt was proud of you, she said, “All these flower arrangements today were made by my niece, and I can’t believe she surprised me like this. Coincidentally, I wanted to surprise her as well for working so hard during my maternity leave. Actually, I had a hand in helping someone else plan a surprise for her. So I’m going to introduce him right now. Her friend from school, Chen Linong, come on up!”

You saw Linong move towards the podium with a large basket of flowers in his arms. The very same flower basket arrangement he had shown you a few days ago.

“Thanks auntie,” he said. “Hi. I’m Chen Linong, and I’m a classmate of her niece who prepared all these beautiful flower arrangements. I wanted to surprise her by making a flower arrangement of my own to confess to her with, although it could never compare to hers. But I hope she’ll still like it.”

He stepped off the podium and the entire audience “aw”ed with enthusiasm. Your heart pounded as fast as a race car’s maximum mph rate as he walked closer and closer.

Until all you could see right in front of you were hydrangea. Tulips. Roses. Poppies. Asters. Delphiniums. Orchids. The single sunflower poking out cutely.

And the smiling face of Linong, the only (sun)flower that mattered right now.

#ninepercent #chenlinong #nongnong #ninepercentchenlinong #idolproducer #kpopmoments #cpopmoments #cpop #idolproducerthings

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norman-reedus-gossip-mod · 7 years

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--mod--

Because I'm a lazy ass and didn't want to transfer stuff in to comments .

Anon: Was DK at NR's art show opening today? --mod-- Not that I saw    

Anon:  I love Daryl but I was never a fan of Norman. Trust me, I've tried. I even tried watching a few of his movies including BS but I'm sorry imo they were crap movies. His only claim to semi-fame is Daryl/TWD & even then a lot of ppl I know don't watch or even recognize his name. His last barely legal gf & now DK are an example of the REAL Norman. He's not what he made himself out to be to his fans. He fooled them that he's an upstanding guy when in reality he's far from it. Don't fall for it!!!  Anon:  Dk and Norman are laughing their asses off behind everyone's backs probably thinking we are all dumb and some of you seriously support this behavior and say it's okay. It's shameful disgusting & embarrassing nothing more  --mod-- I'm not exactly sure why everyone thinks they'd be laughing at the fans. I'm not being a dick just curious   Anon:  There's just no way she was there he was so busy and today he's busy where is she?

  Anon:  I'm really disturbed by the horrible messages on Norman's IG.. people are so messed up! Regardless of what the truth is these messages just make his fans look insane!   

Anon:  Wow, is it the same ten hateful women posting here about liar Norman and evil Diane? Because elsewhere in social media, people, mature people, are saying this is his business and if he's happy, then so are they. How refreshing. Maybe some of you should expand your horizons. --mod-- Mine are super expanded. Apparently we don't go to the same social media because there is nastiness on all of them.   

Anon:  Here we go Diane isn't his friend showing up to support him for his gallery opening tonight since she isn't even there. Probably waiting for him in their hotel room. I'm actually heavily disgusted with the game theyre playing.  

Anon:  Is that Diane at the opening on shadinyc ig story? That's exactly what the blinds said would happen.  --mod-- Nah that's JDM's wife   

Anon:   Well seems like DK isn't at Norman's gallery opening so she definitely isn't in Barcelona to support his work. Plus they wouldn't hide like this if it's only "friends" hanging out. Come on, some still don't want to see that Norman lied cold in you all's faces.. . --mod-- People are allowed to not believe something anon. We all have different thresholds as to what we need to make a decision. For instance a picture taken from a distance isn't enough for me personally. But I respect the fact that it's enough for others and try and not to talk down to them   

Anon:  DK doesn't seem to be at NR's art show opening today. Why do you think that is? --mod-- Maybe she's not there or maybe she wasn't invited.    

Anon:  I have studied those pictures a little closer and noticed something. DK is thin as a stick - her things are practically just bones with muscles and skin on top. The woman climbing on the bike is slim too, but her things seems wider. And then she's even wearing dark jeans that's supposed to make you look thinner. I might be wrong but unless DK gained a couple of pounds over less than a week I don't think that's her

   Anon:  Mod, if they are actually together, do you think we are going to have to see it now? Do we actually have to be forced to look at her attending his art shows and walking red carpets with him? He doesn't do that stuff! I could cry at that thought alone I'm sorry Norman but I can't do that. I didn't sign up as your fan to have to put up with her and her trolling either. Please say it's not true --mod-- If they are then I'd assume we'd maybe see more of them. But I'll make this promise I will keep her to the barest of minimums on the blog. 😉

Anon:  Mod do you think it's possible that they really are only friends? I mean why would he make an official denial like he did only two weeks ago if he was with her? It seems so weird if he did that. It makes him out to look like a complete liar. Also people were saying that he was taking pics with fans while she was there? If that's true, why would he do that with her of all people if she they were more than friends?  --mod-- I think it's totally possible they are still friends. He has friends that he's been out with and have stood back while he took pictures with fans. What strikes me as weird is no one that has said she was there took one picture of her not even a creeper..   

Anon:  I get that people are pissed but the fact is, none of us personally know N or DK. We only see their public personas. We have no idea who they truly are and have no basis on which to judge their relationship. Even if we feel we do, it still wouldn't give us the right to interfere. It's their business and none of ours. And if N is making a "mistake" somehow, it's still his to make. Respect the boundaries between fandom and real life. And if you must leave the fandom, then just leave. . --mod-- Fair point.  

Anon: To people losing their shit - ever considered that N has 'lied' not to be deceitful or because of JJ, but because he KNEW that the batshit elements of his fanbase would react exactly as they have? Maybe he's keeping it quiet purely to protect DK and himself from lunatic fans who think he owes them something.   

Anon: He has left up all supportive comments but deleted others. Even respectful ones just showing disapointment. I think the blind is right he will go public with her. Way to antagonize norman. --mod-- I've actually seen lots of comments that aren't supportive. He did deleted a bunch of the really nasty ones.   

Anon: Mod Norman was out last night I think, was DK with him?? -mod-- Not that I've heard   

Anon:  Dk and Norman both silent on SM since days. You all love to call it coincidence. I hope you all also know deep down it isn't. If they were just friends they wouldn't have to be silent for days. Reminds a lot of Lapland huuh? Let's be honest here, Norman tried to safe his image by putting out a denial so he probably hoped people would stop watching their steps. Too bad it's not working. I so hope paps call them out and the next shitstorm is coming for him. He deserves nothing else if he lies.  --mod--Can you give me a definition of silent on sm because he's little and followed people on ig and twitter

   Anon:  So several people said Norman was there with his girlfriend. We all know he met (secretly) up with ms. attention whore. what do people need more to see he lied big times in ya'lls faces just to make himself look better. I don't get how anyone can support his behavior. He claims to love honesty and hates cheating yet he's apparently the biggest liar. If I was a fan I would be more than disgusted and disappointed and would really think twice if I want to support such shit. Lying is a no go. --mod--People need different things to form an opinion and others just don't care   

Anon:  NR was out at some kind of bar last night, any idea if DK was with him?

--mod-- Haven't heard anything    

Anon:   This is what we get for thinking a guy who had dated a 20 yr old when he was 44 had changed/matured!!! Ha, that's a fucking laugh!!! This guy NEVER had standards, morals & integrity so why'd we expect he'd suddenly posses them??? My mother always told me no matter how hard you try, you can't shine SHIT!!!! Norman will never change & he'll always go after the women who are either too young or total bitches. It's very telling just what kind of person he really is. --mod-- But some of his exs are really awesome women and super nice. Perhaps people are judging to much on his last few relationships . Also who would try and shine shit that's so gross   

Anon:   Funny how Norman is quiet on SM since DK arrived in Barcelona. He didn't post nor like in days. . --mod-- But I think he did  

Anon: I still adore Norman.But he acts blind and stupid right now.Maybe it's a midlife crisis.At this point of drama I wonder if it wouldn't have been the smarter decision to tell the truth right away.There would've been a shitstorm for a few weeks.NOW this hurting and hating goes on for nearly 2 years off and on.Unbearable. Diane?She's a insidious piece of poo.Made multiple attempts to nail Norman down and finally succeeded.I can see a wedding and a baby in the near future.It's that easy.  --mod-- Whys there gotta be a wedding and baby. Both of those are weird   

Anon: I don’t know what to think about Norman anymore.. I’m okay with him being in a relationship with someone and being happy but… with DK… ugh. I wonder if he even knows how she calls the paps… does he even care that she does this? Does he care that she trolls his fans? Does he not realize what type of person she is? And I’ve noticed that when things arise with her, rumors fly or they’re spotted together- he seems to post photos of him with kids, make a wish foundation children, etc around the same time… And his Facebook page did that again tonight… several pics that have already been posted… but were posted again tonight of him with kids and charities… and it turned my stomach because it comes off extremely fake to me now, like he’s trying to get his image to be shown in a better light whenever the DK stuff hits the fan. I always thought of him as a good person but… now I don’t know what to think anymore because I went from thinking he really cares about his fans that are kids(I know he does care) but to somewhat use them to get his reputation to look better at these times… Ugh. :/

Anon: Did anyone thought that the blond girl jumping on NR was Hillary Burton (JDM's wife), she was in Barcelona with them and she does own boots and bag like the ones in the picture, they're not a special edition made for DK (other people can have the same). When I see how many IG accounts are created by so called "fans" to only spread rumours and hate toward NR and DK, I believe this storm won't stop, so I hope you have lots of whiskies and nachos mod. --mod-- That was my first thought. Irish nachos and whiskey all weekend

Anon: Did DK go to Norman's exhibit opening tonight? Is that her in Shadi's video right after he pans from JDM? --mod-- Didn't see her there

Anon: One would think if DK was only a friend for Norman she'd be officially invited to his gallery opening. Apparently she isn't there. Sorry but that makes it all the more obvious they are not just friends .

Anon: Did DK go to Norman's exhibit opening tonight? Is that her in Shadi's video right after he pans from JDM? --mod-- No it's JDM's wife I believe

Anon: Funny how DK isn't at his opening show if she was only in Spain to support him. If they were only friends why isn't she just official attending his opening so they could easily prove they're friends. Her being not there makes everything even more obvious. She's hiding and waiting for him somewhere so they can keep going laughing about us and screwing around further. --mod-- Maybe p, if she was in Spain, they decided is was best she not attended because have you seen the hate. Also why would they be laughing

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i-would-rather-be-queen · 7 years

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Replies to Anons

I always enjoy hearing from you guys. I’m incredibly lucky that you all like to chat with me, so I’m terribly sorry for the delay in replying. Things aren’t back to normal yet, but I’m doing the best I can. :(

If you sent something over the past few weeks PLEASE check under the link. I’d hate for you to think I left you out. If you sent a request, I’ll be updating my lists. ^^

Thank you for all the lovely messages sending your best wishes. Each and every one of them was very much appreciated. <3

It's 3am and I've had such a crappy night but I came here to reread some of your stories and now I feel much better :) As if I've been wrapped in a warm blanket and thrown into a pile of puppy cuddles <3 Thank you for sharing your writings with us <3333

Ah I love it!!! Warm blankets and puppy cuddles are my goal! ^^ I’m very sorry you had rough go of it, but I’m touched that my stories could help in any small way. Thank you for letting me know they were a comfort. (And that you reread them too--gah, my heart) *hugs*

Hiiii! It's me again, sorry I haven't messaged you in a while (I've been somewhat busy asdfiasoihsa) I wanted to tell you that I think your CNBlue's "Shaving them" was really cute! But at the same time I kept imagining that I'd be too nervous to place anything sharp on someone else's skin. I dunno why, I just think I'd be too afraid of accidentally cutting them *oh Lord no*

Ok, I’m thinking this is Sea anon but please let me know if I’m wrong. ^^ That’s why I like that particular reaction so much. It’s a trust/vulnerability thing not just for them but yourself. And that is THE BIGGEST kink I have other than my massive, mountainous hurt/comfort one. (Which really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that has spent more than five minutes on this blog but I digress...lol)

You're back! I'm glad to hear you're feeling better too. (I hope you didn't get this nasty flu, bc that's what laid me up for a week... So horrible) I just read your BTS Namjoon fic and I didn't know I needed that but I love it so much! *rambling* but I really am glad to hear you're back and better and I can't wait to see more works of yours!! ~Tennis Anon 🎾

That isn’t what I had but since I work in a doctor office I know it’s been going around and it’s awful! I’m so sorry you had that happen to you. I hope you’ve completely recovered. ^^ And thank you for liking the Rap Mon fic!!! I had to let my nerdy side out to play so I’m happy it connected with you too! <3

I've been essentially bedridden for two days and your Drabble expansions were the only thing keeping me from going stir crazy, so thank you for that c: I honestly love rereading your writings, they still evoke the same emotion that I got when I read them for the first time ^^ ~Tennis Anon 🎾

That’s so sweet of you to say that my stories hold up to rereading them. I really appreciate hearing that and that they evoke feelings. I’ve said this before, but it’s really hard to tell if the emotions are still there after editing it a hundred times. And it’s funny I left a similar message to another fanfic writer (anime) myself this weekend. Is that writing karma? ^^

This is my favourite account, thank you for appreciating the groups that need more love

Really?! Wow, thank you! I‘m happy to share the small fandom love! ^^ Thank you for being here.

Hello! You're probably busy, but I just wanted to drop in and let you know that I hope everything is okay. ☺️

I gotta say, this message came right after I got sick and it really touched me because I didn’t think anybody other than the people I message with here would notice me being gone. Thank you so much for thinking of me. *hugs*

I thought of an interesting idea and would love for you to write it!! ^^ Can I request a Monsta X reaction where you found out that they are actually robots with human emotions?? thanks so much!!

Yaaaas! *high fives you* Someone else who loves robots! I definitely have robot/android on my list but will probably end up making a few scenarios out of it rather than a reaction. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it. ^^ I have a huge list of supernatural AU ideas so some members may get more than one.

Welcome back! I'm sorry you were sick, but I hope you're feeling better.

Thank you, honey! I’m working on it. *hugs*

Health is the most important! Hope you'll recover as soon as possible!!!❤️With love from Aries anon🐏

Thank you! <3 I thought of you while I was sick, lol. I thought I need my fellow Aries to tell me I should be kicking butt right now. ^^

Glad to see you're ok! I wanted to send something just to ask how you were doing, but I was afraid it would seem like I was just asking for the sake of more stories and not yourself 😩 ~ Sam anon

Oh, I would NEVER think that of you dear heart. I don’t know you in person but I know you better than that. ^_~ Thank you for thinking of me Sam anon. *hugs*

Wahh you are the sweetest bean in existence T^T I whole-heartedly appreciate your replies to my spazzing asks <3 You're so kind to take the time to answer them and provide links *cries* I've been running around all day between classes but now I'll set up shop on the couch and watch those videos! I seriously can't thank you enough for being so sweet and helpful, not just to me, but to all who drop by. Your blog is such a lovely place to visit bc of how kind you are <3 sending hugs~🐨❤️-koala anon

You’re quite welcome!!! It’s fun to talk about kpop with people, especially since I don’t have anyone irl to do so with. I hope you enjoyed the links and I’m holding on to your other message because I think I’m going to make a pic spam of my favorite pictures for you. <3<3<3 (And I’m happy you enjoy visiting here--I want people to feel that the environment is safe and friendly.)

hi, i'm looking for a particuar fanfic blog,only i can't quite remember the name,i THINK it had like a flower kind of thing in the url or maybe in the blog pic...i only remember reading a particular scenario that was about Ken being like a fortune teller and the OC went to him to look at her future or something?? ^^;; i was wondering if u ever came across this scenario or blog

Hi honey, I’m sorry. I haven’t read much kpop fanfic lately. I wish I could help. Good luck!

#so sorry for the wait guys #sea anon #Tennis Anon #aries anon #Koala Anon #sam anon #replies

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thebogdanone · 4 years

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Home/away from home

I stumble out of my room thinking…it's Thursday, right? I look down the hall to see Josh, who lives in the room next to mine, passed out on the floor right in front of the bathroom door. He is fully dressed and in an odd way looks quite peaceful with his arm under the head...then I notice the vomit drying on his sleeve and his cheek and I think...yuck, I am so glad that is not me. I look at my watch. It is 7:45 AM and then I pause...isn't he in my Lit class which starts in 15 minutes? I envision our classroom, one of those huge lecture halls and yes, I'm right, he is in that course with me. Then I think...will he be happy if I wake him up or hate me for disturbing him?

As I ponder the options John from three doors down emerges from his room with a loud belch and says, without missing a beat, "who the fuck is that...Josh again?" I nod. "Again" I think? I have never seen him asleep in the hall before but apparently this is a regular occurrence. I try to form into sentences what I had just been thinking about whether to wake him or not and just as I start to say "What should we do...?" big John bends down and effortlessly rolls Josh's body away from the bathroom entrance, tucking him up again the wall. John belches loudly again as he enters the toilet stall, slamming the door shut with a bang that jars me into reality. “I have to get going” I think and I step into the bathroom. Then I stop...I take a step backward and look back down at Josh...he is dead asleep, for sure, but he is not dead. Crazy as it sounds, way in the back of my mind that was a worry. I determine it’s highly likely he’ll miss class and so my "note to self" is: take good notes in class today.

I walk back into the bathroom. The putrid smell of stale vomit and urine is overpowering, as always, and I instinctively hold my breath. It's not until I turn the shower on and smell my soap each morning that I can breath regularly again. While the water slowly warms up I cross the bathroom to take a piss and notice a spent rubber congealed to the urine cake at the base of the urinal. I think to myself "gross — but at least they are practicing safe sex,” then I chuckle to myself at the thought of walking in on whoever belonged to that condom and the act they were engaged in while using it. I wonder what I would have done...that thought actually makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Here I am, only awake for about 15 minutes and I have encountered a drunk asleep in the hall, vomit (sight and scent!), the overwhelming stench of piss, a spent condom and now, as I contemplate a shower I'm hearing John fart so loud and long it almost sounds fake — but the sound of his grunting that follows assures me the farts are indeed real and I do not stick around to experience the odor! I wonder again, not for the first time, why it is I wanted so desperately to live on campus...I mean I basically told my mother I would die if she didn't let me — yes, I am prone to exaggeration! Anyway, its mornings like this that make me glad I can hop on a bus and get home to Rittenhouse in about 20 minutes and take a bath and eat real food and hang out with my dog and my little sister and just get away from all of this madness that is my dorm life...

OK. Enough contemplating my own existence. I have to get going and I know when I start thinking life thoughts I can get lost in that world so my next move is to instinctively look for my Paul Mitchell products which should — key word "should" — be on the counter where we all keep our stuff. I quickly realize, again, my conditioner is empty and my shampoo bottle is missing its top. I am reminded how my mom is about ready to kill me over my levels of "hair product consumption" since I moved into the dorm — she thinks I have some control over who uses my stuff. I don't. She wants me to carry my hair and body washes in this silly caddy thing to the bathroom each day and I keep telling her no way would I be caught dead doing that but TBH I am just about fed up with this. I will say I am pretty sure I know who is using my stuff though, but if it is him I really don't care...I owe this guy big time. My good buddy Brian, who I owe my current A in politics to, seem to always smell of Paul Mitchell and yet he uses, like, VO5...go figure? Honestly, if it wasn't for him and his editing skills my grade in that course would likely be a C. I am so lucky to have such a brain living just four doors away. This guy is so into reading and editing and helping everyone on our floor. We are all so lucky. I wonder what my life would be like if I didn't dorm and instead lived at home? Each of the guys on my floor offers something helpful in my college existence — Brian is the brain and the "go to" man for course help, John is the muscle and helps with all lifting and protecting, Josh knows everyone so he is our party connection, Asan has a real head for negotiating and deal-making, my roommate Steve is the guy who gets all the ladies to visit our floor and I'm the guy with the car. Whenever we need anything off campus I drive. I'm not allowed to park my car on campus so I bike home and get it whenever we want to go shopping.

Post shower, on my way back down the hall I agreed with myself I would not take more than a cursory glance at Josh — basically checking to see if he still has a pulse — so as not to disturb him or bring attention to him. That latter thought makes me chuckle — "bring attention to him" Ha ha ha! Too funny. As I round the corner to exit the bathroom I am quite shocked…and relieved...to realize Josh's body has moved — either by will or by force. I stop at the door of his room and give a light tap. His roommate Vincent comes to the door..."All good?' I ask. He says "yeah, I'm cool — what’s up"? Then I direct my gaze past him to Josh's bed where his body is flopped, still fully clothed, still embellished with vomit stains on his cheek and arm and still wearing his Timberland boots fully laced up! "Oh man, you mean him...well I can't speak for him right now but I'm sure he'll be cool after he sleeps it off". "Agreed" I reply — "I think his hang-over is going to be memorable". We both laugh and I say "look, if he needs anything or you need any help with him let me know — He did me a solid last week when I was in a head not so dissimilar so I owe him one.” "Will do" Vincent says as I head back to my room.

Vincent is a decent guy and I suspect they are — as roommates — a good match. As far as my roommate — Cal...A.K.A. Romeo — one could never discern if we would or would not have made good roommates because he is rarely — I actually mean NEVER — here. He met this Senior exchange student from Rome on his third night on campus. She lives in a single over near where the food trucks park at the edge of campus and basically from the first night they hooked up he has slept, ate, studied and, well, had sex in her room for the entirety of his first semester at college.

When we were matched up in June we started texting. To be honest we did seem to have a lot in common — tennis, business, art, music and reading. We shared Instagrams and so I knew he had this serious three year high school relationship with this hot chick from New Jersey. Every third pic was Camilla in a bikini and Cal's face buried in her huge tits. Camilla had one of those bodies that are naturally fit and she's athletic so everything looked...well, excellent! Her hair was long and lush in this chestnut brown tone and her eyes this unusual hazel shade and I did think to myself it was going to be hard for him to be away from her — she is only just now a high school senior — because there likely is a line of guys just itching to get at her. When we met at orientation he professed his undying love for her and told me he gave her a "promise ring". I knew a few girls who had received "promise rings" in my high school — one of them was gifted one that was larger than most women's engagement rings — and I used to joke that the only purpose they served was to keep a girl faithful...but the guys went on cheating like mad! Whatever, to each his own. Anyway, the day he moved into our room Camilla came with his parents. In person she was even more stunning and she had this very alluring voice — sort of sweetly deep in timbre -- and I could not take my eyes off of her. When on night three I looked across the room at a house party we were at in South Philly and saw Cal's tongue deep in the throat of the petite, dark, mature Italian exchange student we had been introduced to when we arrived I could hardly believe my eyes!!! I mean it was shock beyond belief!!! I did not see him leave that night and I did not see one sighting of him for that entire first weekend. Then Sunday evening, as I came back from the dining hall with Asan, John and Josh, there he was with her in our room. Her accent was just as adorable as I remembered it in our brief encounter a few days before and just as striking. They were giggling and he was packing a bag and he looked up and said "Hey Alex, this is Marina, you remember her...from the house party" “Sure," I said, extending my hand for her to shake. She took my hand, leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks. I am so sure I blushed and then she said "Hello friend, so nice for you to have me". I laughed — thinking yes it would be VERY "nice for me to have you" but clearly THAT is not gonna happen! Cal informs me, with few words and no detail, that he will be staying at Marina's "for a while". I immediately glanced at the overly adorable HUGE "bulletin board of love" that contained about a million pics of him and Camilla that was hanging over Cal's desk — and that Marina was now intensely staring at — and then back at him. He shrugged his shoulders and said “yeah, man, that was rough but I gotta move on.” OUCH! crass at its most intense! YIKES. SO this is love. Who knew?

I noted he only packed about three days of clothes so I thought ... ok, by Thursday or Friday he'll be back so I better not get too comfortable with the idea of a single...Oh if only I knew then what I know now and how those three words — "for a while" — would literally change the course of my Freshman year at college. Needless to say I have caught fleeting sight of Cal a few times at parties and once when he came to collect more clothes and his running shoes but that’s it! Now "our" (my) room is officially known as Alex's Airbnb. I am not so sure Cal knows much if anything about his (and I would like to keep it that way...) but there you have it. It works like this: The vacant bed in my room, that was Cal's, is now "rented out" for use when someone has a roommate who wants to bring a girl — or guy — back to his room. It’s administered by a sharp business student, Asan, who is probably my best mate in the dorm. He cooked up the scheme one Friday night when John kicked his roommate into the hall and we found him sleeping there. I offered him Cal's bed and went to Asan's room to hang out and watch some YouTube videos. Asan got this idea that in the morning I should let everyone know I had a vacant bed in my room and anyone could use it for 25 bucks. I told him I could not be bothered and I really did not need the hassle or the 25 bucks. He persisted though, and, given that he needed to devise some business scheme for one of his courses, I agreed — but only if he “administrated” the project. I did think, rather naively, that maybe he would rent it out ten or twelve times and then that would be that so I really wouldn’t need to pay too much attention to this project. Nothing to worry about! Ha Ha HA! famous last words..."nothing to worry about!?” Rarely is there a night I sleep in my room alone! Yes, I have a single....but I am almost never alone. Asan found someone who needed the bed the very next night after our conversation. He found someone for the next night, and then the next. He started to book it out several days in advance. Now the bed is also available hourly in the mornings and afternoons (at a rate of $15 for three hours!) and there have even been some girls who have rented the bed for a night. I am of course a complete gentleman and nothing untoward has commenced with any of them. TBH none of them have been even remotely hot but everyone has been so kind...even the drunk ones. I admit this is all rather bizarre — to open my bedroom door and see an outstretched hand attached to a nervous person leaping from the bed saying "Hi, I'm Kate...or Whitman...or Daniel”…or to see some huge guy’s nearly naked body asleep on Cal's bed and me standing there worried about waking a sleeping giant. Many people are now return customers and many people have started charging their roommates the $25 fee for the inconvenience. One guy even told his roommate the fee is $30 and he pockets the extra five. Sharp business man!

Asan (who is currently working on an upgrade that will net US these extra fees…) has been true to his commitment to "administrate" and people now know know him as “Superhost," which is an apt nickname for him because along with running an error-free schedule he does an excellent job of keeping the toiletries stocked (of course from the stash that my mom refreshes incessantly) and changing the sheets — a job I would never do and frankly rarely gets done on my bed. I mean, my mom asked me a few weeks ago if i needed anything. I said yeah, I need my sheets changed…I was half joking about my poor laundry habits…but, sure enough, my mom sent the woman who cleans her apartment over to the dorm to collect my stale sheets and she re-sheeted my bed so fresh and nice and even swept my room and vacuumed my carper and dusted! WOW — I thought when i saw it — my room is actually quite cool. My mom is good like that — she spoils us rotten and I know I'm somewhat of a lazybones because of it but I am always so grateful and I said thank you about ten times and called my mom very grateful for all she does for me — and all the guys on my floor. She sends monthly "Floor care packages" — a laundry basket stuffed with everything we all love...Oreos, peanut butter, goldfish, healthy granola and more…and, of course, cases of bottled water. My mom is obsessed with me NOT drinking Philly tap. She is sooooooo skeptical of city tap water. That annoys me but it’s her thing so I let it slide.

Starting in late October "Alex's Airbnb" got its own app — NO SHIT: I told you Asan was brilliant — and now it regularly brings in about $200-240 a week and of that Asan takes a 35% cut so I make $140-$160 a week. While that is sweet the result is I have absolutely NO privacy at all. None. Zero. Zilch! Also, my room door has to remain unlocked. On top of all of this our RA, Harrison, is starting to get annoyed with the whole thing and threatened Asan with a need to be "cut in.” I’ve placated him with these cases of Vita Water and boxes of blueberries and smoked salmon my mom has sent to me every four or five days. (I did tell you she is obsessed with me eating a healthy diet...didn't I?) Harrison loves that stuff and I am, frankly, sick of it so it’s a win/win...for now!

My Airbnb has made me a rather popular guy and everyone is so cool with me and Asan — I think it’s because they have to be out of fear they could need our services at any moment! The guys on my floor are like family to me already. We would do anything for each other. I have never felt such a bond so quickly with unrelated humans but I guess this is the normal outcome of communal living. We see each other for most of our waking (and sleeping) hours each day. Trust me, it’s not all great: these are the humans I have to thank — not! — for my two-day hangover last weekend and for introducing me to that wack girl from the third floor who I could not get rid of for three weeks and for our two-week probation over the colored water and suds in the fountain stunt…but, hey, this is dorm life and these are now my peeps.

On our floor there is a wide mix of students and I have to admit I do think there are those living here who would rather be elsewhere — like the two foreign exchange students who are Juniors and basically they are these mature men living among a floor of boys. Aldo is from Israel and Benyamin is from Denmark and they are marketing majors studying here to hone their marketing skills in the marketing capital of the world — "if you can't sell it to an American, it can't be sold" is the attitude I think the rest of the world has about Americans. Embarrassingly, I think that statement has many elements of truth. I notice these two can often be found in our floor lounge or in other campus locations asking questions or requesting that people fill out surveys. They have approached me a few times. I'm polite and I give general answers but I have this thing about giving too much away to future marketeers — I look at it this way: you gotta be pretty keen to learn my habits as I am a person of change and I rarely listen to the same music or take the same route or eat the same meal. I suspect my close friends could predict my actions or responses — this is not a comforting thought — in some situations but I'm actually an intensely private person and so giving hints about my likes and dislikes to marketing majors so they can lump me into a category with the rest of these clowns is NOT something I want to be a part of my reality as a college Freshman. They are innocent enough and I get they have task to complete but I would rather be left out of it.

Speaking of Benyamin — he is in my Stats class where I am headed after Lit. I am the only Freshman in that course. I scored the highest level on the Math assessment and my adviser is keen to use me as a test subject to see if a Freshman can handle advanced Stats "out of the gate" as she says. I currently have a course grade of 105% so um, yeah, some of us can. Benyamin is struggling — I think it might be the language barrier but whatever the reason the night before the mid-term exam I saw him in the lounge looking so damned stressed out. I offered him a Vita Water and gave him some encouraging advice — I said, “look, you know this material and, plus, numbers have no language barrier.” He told me after the exam that my words helped him — a lot — during the exam. I received a perfect score on the mid-term and he got an 89% which he admitted is waaaaaay better than he has done all semester, so, it’s moments like this that I think, wow, my just being here has enriched someone’s life.

The dining hall at this hour its filled with mindless students — mostly Freshman — just jonesing for strong coffee and a bagel and then heading straight out the door. I have noticed that people only hang out in there for long periods on weekend mornings — and that, again, is so different for me because on weekends I stop in to snag a coffee but then I head to my Mom's and enjoy a home cooked brunch — tormenting my sister Maya and roughhousing with my Mom's new puppy Miracle and just exhaling from the week that was. I have stopped sleeping in my comfy bed at home on Saturday nights because I have discovered, albeit rather late in the semester, a social life of sorts playing some pretty intense ping pong in my dorm basement. Many are the hours we can pass down there — I need this as my substitute for tennis as I have only played a total of six times and I have not found one person who is at my level but I’m always just so grateful to grip the racquet and hit the ball and move around out on the court. Maybe that is the most disappointing point of Cal moving out of our room — I had fantasies of us on the courts expending our excess energy through the sport we are both so passionate about but, alas, he has likely found his new sport — sex — so much more fulfilling and I have given up hope of finding a tennis partner and now I have set my sights on being our dorm table tennis champion! I have to get much better — or lady luck needs to come for a visit — if I'm going to hope to beat Chen and Jason but I am giving it a good shot.

I have lately realized that on my "short days" like today — when I only have two classes — I have been trying to socialize more. These days, I usually give the lounge a try and I have even branched out across the campus and get lunch every few days at a cafe that is primarily filled with Juniors and Seniors. I met a cool bunch of engineering dudes introduced to me by one of my Airbnb "guests" Whitman. He and this "team" of dudes are making this rocket and I sometimes go back with them to their warehouse lab and watch them work. I’ve even given a suggestion or two a few times and they love having another math mind around as it’s all about the numbers if that thing is going to get off the ground. I willingly sit and work some calculations and I really like the sense of brotherhood I derive from those fleeting experiences.

So, yeah...Freshman year dorm life...hmmmmm, what do I REALLY think of it…? I think you should ask me during the holiday break when I will have some perspective and can take stock in what I have experienced and learned. Is it all it promised (all I imagined it) to be? This I can say for sure: not by a long shot, but I think this has as much to do with those promises and my imagination as with what has actually really happened to me and because of me and who I am — and who I am becoming. I am committed to giving it another semester and you never know...anything can happen and I'm always ready for the next bizarre turn. That is what makes this life so wonderful — accepting what we are given when we have no control and changing what we can to make it everything we can wish for!

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