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scxrlettwxtches · 3 years

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urgent romance intervention | kim seungmin

genre: slight angst, fluff, humor

warnings: none!

prompt: everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends--oh wait--

word count: ~3.2k

a/n: first of all, im so sorry for literally dropping off the face of the earth after opening requests. i’ve been in a deep writing slump and i just managed to somewhat pull myself out of it with this fic. >.< to the lovely anon who sent this, im so so sorry if this isnt as good as you wanted it! i’ve just been having a very hard time writing. i hope this isn’t too far off from what you expected! as always, im so so grateful to everyone who has supported this blog, it means so much to me! love you all! <3

“We are not dating!”

This was absolutely ridiculous. Of all the crazy things you had imagined yourself doing once you got to college, you never thought you'd be having to deny dating allegations (from some pretty close friends, no less). What made this situation even more bizarre, was the fact that the topic of these allegations, your supposed “boyfriend,” was none other than your best friend, Kim Seungmin.

“There's no need to be so private, Y/N. We aren't prudes here,” Jisung looked far too smug sitting across from you as you worked on your project together at a random campus cafe with your other group member, Minho.

You couldn't help but scoff at his words, writing in your notebook with a little more ferocity than usual. A little was an understatement, actually; your pencil was practically cutting into three pages at this point, “I'm not being private, I'm being honest. I'm not dating Seungmin.”

“Are you sure?” Jisung continued to press for details, leaning forward with wide eyes.

“I think I'd be aware if I was dating my best friend,” you rolled your eyes, taking another big bite of your croissant, holding it with your left hand as you continued to take notes with your right.

Minho coughed and muttered the words similar to, “You'd be surprised,” under his breath, but you were too sick of this conversation to care.

You had a total of five minutes of pleasant peace and quiet when Jisung spoke up once more, “I think you two are cute, for what it’s worth,” he said, nibbling at his cheesecake.

“I very much appreciate it, but I’d appreciate it much more if you actually worked on our project,” you smiled pleasantly, gripping your mechanical pencil so hard you were sure it would snap. Jisung huffed, blowing the hair out of his face when your phone buzzed on the table.

“Oh, it’s your boyfriend,” Minho interjected with a smug smile.

You scowled. You definitely didn’t get enough sleep to be in the mood to deal with this, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone.

“Are you sure? I bet you it’s him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s in class right now, and you know Seungmin hates to text--” your voice died right in your throat as you stared at the notification. What the hell was going on? Since when did Seungmin ever text anyone during his classes? But phones don’t lie, and the alert was definitely about the two unread messages from your best friend.

seungmo

wanna get dinner tonight?

i got a reservation at the hotel restaurant you like

how in the world did you get that?! i try to get it for special occasions and i always have to book like three months in advance

seungmo

just some connections

wanna go?

hell yeah. see ya soon :)

“So, who’s the lucky texter?” Jisung put his elbows on the table, smiling at you with a devious smirk.

You gave both him and Minho a wary glare as you slipped your phone back into your bag, flipping around your textbook again and continuing to work on the project as you muttered, “Seungmin.”

“Ah, see? I knew he cared about you more than school,” Minho sighed dreamily, which honestly made you want to hurl, “That’s true love, isn’t it, Sungie?”

Jisung nodded fervently and you finally snapped, throwing your pen down, “Why the fuck does everyone think we’re dating?! We’re not!”

“Oh yeah? So what did he text you about?” Jisung asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You pursed your lips, snapping once more, “Just about--” you faltered slightly, processing Seungmin’s messages as your expression morphed from indignant to almost confused.

“About what, Y/N?” Jisung tried again, a smile already quirking his lips upward as he studied your expression. Damn him. Damn Minho. Damn this whole fucking thing.

“About going out for dinner,” you answered under your breath, resting your chin on your arms as you muttered defensively, “It’s not even that big of a deal. We eat dinner together all the time.”

Minho snorted, “Of course. I bet he even said he made reservations at some fancy ass restaurant,” When the only answer to his accusation was silence, he couldn’t help but scoff, “For someone as bright as you, you’re pretty oblivious about flirting, aren’t you?”

“Watch it,” There was an undertone of a growl as you bared your teeth at him, “I’m the only reason you’re all getting A’s on this project. Don’t test me.”

Jisung shrugged, “If it means finally getting you laid, I’m willing to take an L,” he said simply, twirling his pen as your cheeks grew flush, and with an angry huff, taking your notebook and smacking his arm with it.

“My sexual life is none of your business,” you snapped, steam practically shooting out of your head as you glared at the two boys. How you three ended up being friends was always going to be something you’d never understand.

“It was none of our business because there was nothing to talk about. Things are different now, sweetie,” Minho snickered, giggling with Jisung like a pair of gossipy school girls as he whispered to you , “Trust me, I got this information first hand. Did you know Seungmin actually has a monster--”

“That’s it. You’re doing this project on your own.”

“W-wait--Y/N!”

“Of course you can skip overtime today! It’s not like you’re ever obligated to stay,” your boss at the local bookstore said happily as you hesitantly asked her if it would be alright if you didn’t close up for the day.

Still, despite her reassurances, you bit your lip, “A-are you sure? I could tell my friend to just go with someone else,” you trailed off just as the woman took your hands in hers, shaking her head fervently.

“No, no, no, don’t do that. Of course, you can leave at six. Hell, I wouldn’t even mind if you left at five since you already do so much for me,” she chuckled, smiling at you, “Where are you going? Party? Club?”

“No,” you said with a sheepish smile to compliment her wolfish grin. You both knew that alcohol was definitely not your thing “Just a fancy dinner at a fancy place, apparently.”

"Oh! With a boyfriend?" She asked as the two of you walk around sorting the newly arrived books into different categories.

Your face burned with embarrassment, "No, it's just Seungmin," you muttered in response, carrying a stack of books over to a large pile of nonfiction novels.

"So, a boyfriend," she said simply, not even bothering to look at you.

Unlike with Minho and Jisung, you couldn't blow up at her or snap. Not just because she was your boss, but because Mrs. Kim was probably the sweetest woman alive, and you could never bear saying anything remotely rude towards her.

"Seungmin isn't my boyfriend, Mrs. Kim," you replied politely as you checked a book for rips or printing errors before putting it into the newly growing pile.

"He's not? But he's always looking after you, dear!" Mrs. Kim looked almost offended by your denial, which was exactly what you were trying to avoid.

You shuffled uncomfortably, "Well, we've been best friends for years, and his mom would kill him if he didn't take care of me,” you quickly fumbled for an excuse and smiled like you were being forced to take a yearbook photo or pose with the sun hitting your eyes.

"I've never seen a best friend spend his whole paycheck getting their friend a limited edition of a book series they were dying to get," Mrs. Kim pointed out rather dryly. Where was this sass coming from? Was this really the same woman that fed you homemade pastries on your first day of work? It certainly didn't feel like it.

"He only bought it because I was practically nagging him for months,” your excuses became more relaxed as you let them spill off your lips more. After all, they've lived in your head for the last seven years. It was just like dusting off an old notebook.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Mrs. Kim threw her hands up in utter exasperation as she barked, "Hyunjin!"

The poor boy almost dropped the pile of books he was carrying as his head whipped up to look at Mrs. Kim with a panicked expression. He never really got over the trauma of spilling tea all over Mrs. Kim's favorite book even though she forgave him after a day of sulking.

"Yes?" he squeaked, his eyes wide as he was probably preparing himself to die at the hands of your boss. It would be almost funny how afraid Hyunjin was of a sixty year old woman if you weren't just as terrified of her when she barked your name.

"Who's Y/N dating?" she asked.

Hyunjin's panicked expression all but vanished as he realized that he wasn't the one in trouble, and he answered matter-of-factly as he glanced over at you, "Seungmin. Why?"

You sputtered in indignation. First Jisung, then Minho, and now Hyunjin, too?

"We're not dating!" You exclaimed for what was probably the twentieth time in the last two hours alone.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "Please, you're not fooling anybody here."

You gawked at Hyunjin, unsure whether you wanted to sock him in the face or rat him out to Changbin for replacing the rapper's shampoo with pink dye, "What in the world gave you the idea that we're together?"

"Y/N, you two literally hold hands unironically," Hyunjin pointed out.

"Friends do that all the time!"

"He ditches us in an instant whenever you call him to hang out."

"That's because you guys see each other every day, and I only get to see him on the weekends."

"He was literally draped around you during movie night last weekend."

"Maybe he's just touchy."

Hyunjin glanced at you with a skeptical eyebrow, immediately calling out your bullshit, "You didn't seriously call Kim Seungmin a touchy person, did you?"

You looked away scowling, because Hyunjin always had an uncanny knack for seeing through people's masks. Especially with you; you knew he always suspected your hidden feelings for your best friend, even when the rest of his friends were happily oblivious.

Mrs. Kim raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you so against the idea of dating him? Because let me tell you, as a girl that hooked up with boys left and right during my prime time-"

"Oh my god, Mrs. Kim, I really didn't need to hear that," you groaned in mortification, covering your flushed face with a book.

"He's one of the good ones," Mrs. Kim finished before glancing at you with a bemused smile, "If it's not because you don't want him, then what's the problem, dear?"

You felt cornered. It wasn't fair. Hyunjin and Mrs. Kim were looking at you like they knew everything when they didn't. They didn’t know how much you’ve pined over this man, how much carefully crafted effort and time you’ve spent trying desperately to get over him.

"I don't want to think that I'm special and then have to wake up to the cruel realization that I'm not," you said flatly, although from the shift in Hyunjin's expression, he could hear the pained inflection hidden in your voice.

He opened his mouth to say something probably reassuring when Mrs. Kim interrupted, “So it's fear. What are you afraid is going to happen?”

This was definitely the wrong time to be having a conversation like this, during working hours when you were supposed to probably be helping customers. But there was no one in the store and no one outside about to come in either, so you couldn't help but be a little revealing.

“We don't go to the same school anymore,” you explained uncomfortably, “If he hasn't already, he'll probably meet someone kinder, gentler, softer than I could ever be. I don't even have the advantage of time on my side now.”

“Okay, first off,” Hyunjin interrupted, glancing at Mrs. Kim and then back at you, “Seungmin has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. He's totally hung up on you, just like he was back in high school."

"You don't know that," you muttered, fumbling with your fingers.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "Don't tell me what I know and don't know. I literally see him checking his messages for your replies at least twice every ten minutes."

“Stop it,” you snapped, looking at him, eyes blazing, “Stop making this sound obvious. You don’t have any right to act like a fucking love expert when all everyone does is fawn over you--”

“Okay, both of you need to cool off. We’re still in a bookstore here,” Mrs. Kim glared at Hyunjin who immediately lost his high horse attitude and ducked away to keep working.

"Darling," Mrs. Kim took your hands in hers, the anger on her face softening into an expression akin to sympathy, "I don't know what you've gone through to think that you're not worthy, but take it from the words of an old woman. If a boy is waiting for you to get off of work with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, chances are that he thinks of you as more than a friend."

You blinked at her in confusion before following her line of sight, and your heart did a weird backflip as you saw none other than Kim Seungmin, standing outside of the bookstore with a sheepish smile and bouquet of roses in his hands.

This was definitely the strangest day of your life, you thought as you sat directly across from Seungmin, absently admiring the rose petals. It was one thing for Seungmin to take you out for dinner (he always liked spending his big fat paycheck from interning at that fancy tech company), but the flowers threw you off.

Weren’t roses meant for dates? Was this a date? You looked around at the lavish restaurant, the candlelit atmosphere and the plethora of couples eating around you.

No, definitely not a date.

"Are you alright?" Seungmin asked with the gentle smile he only showed you. Funny, was it Hyunjin corrupting your mind, or did Seungmin's eyes sparkle when you looked at him?

You nodded, carefully putting down the flowers on the ground underneath your chair to make sure no one accidentally steps on them, "Yeah, I just had a weird day."

"Weird how?" Seungmin reached for your hand that was resting on the table, causing your stomach to do a somersault. Damn those stupid boys who just don't know when to keep their mouths shut! You just can't stop overthinking things anymore!

Wait. Now that you think about it, no thanks to those little shits, Seungmin has been abnormally affectionate the last few times you've hung out, holding your hand, letting you rest your head on his shoulder when you got tired, even full on cuddling with you when Jisung hosted a group movie night at his apartment. You'd reasoned it all in your head that he was probably just going through his more clingy phases, but now thinking back, Seungmin never liked to cuddle, even in his most clingy moments. And yet, he'd wordlessly pulled you to his chest that movie night as if he'd wanted you to cuddle with him all his life, even when his friends were around.

“Y/N?” He prompted gently, his eyes now filled with a hint of concern as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

The rational part of you wanted to just forget this whole thing. The boys say dumb shit all the time; how can this be any different? It would be so simple, so easy for you to just do as you’ve always done when it came to your feelings and run away.

But your heart, your lonely heart that has known nothing but secret glances and unrequited love was aching to take a chance. Minho, Jisung, and Hyunjin were idiots, but they weren’t cruel. They wouldn’t give you this false hope for nothing.

And for the first time, your heart won over, and you decided to be honest.

“Well, the boys keep saying that we’re dating,” you chuckled sheepishly, trying not to focus on Seungmin’s hand wrapped around yours.

To your surprise, Seungmin’s eyes grow wide as saucers as he all but squeaked, “They what now?”

You blinked, trying to be too taken aback by his reactions, “Minho and Jisung just yabbering on about us, and Hyunjin didn’t bat an eye when my boss asked him who I was dating,” you glanced at him, throwing caution to the wind as you asked hesitantly, “You don’t happen to know about this, right?”

Seungmin might as well have held up a giant flashing sign that said he absolutely knew about it. His ears grew bright red, redder than you’ve ever seen them turn, and he stammered for a moment, trying to find his words, “I-I--um--I told them not to use that plan.”

The carefully crafted excuse to get both of you out of this awkward situation that you held on the tip of your tongue immediately disintegrated, “W-what plan?” you stuttered out in disbelief.

Seungmin looked almost crushed as he pulled his hand out of yours, putting his head in his hands as he rested his arms on the table, “This stupid plan they made for me to ask you out,” he muttered, and if your hearing was ever so slightly worse, you would’ve missed those words completely.

“Why would you need a plan to ask me out?” you asked, and your heart could almost leap out of your chest at this point. It felt horrid waiting, waiting for the confession or the rejection. You’d almost regretted opening this can of worms when Seungmin suddenly looked up at you, his expression distraught.

“Why?” he repeated, smiling bitterly, “Was I really so out of your league that you didn’t notice how in love with you I’ve been this entire time?”

Your mind went blank and it felt as if someone had yanked the ground out from under you. This whole image of unrequited affection, this whole idea that you were never good enough for Seungmin to even look your way, it was all a farce, a con that was now being torn apart by his simple question.

“S-seungminnie,” your voice refused to work the way you wanted it to, and you stumbled over your words, “I didn’t know--I’m so sorry--I had no idea…”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Seungmin immediately sounded concerned as he watched you fall apart in front of him, “You didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to be sorry for--”

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you!” You blurted out, looking into his warm, brown eyes as the shame bubbled out of your chest and you lowered your head, “I thought...I thought you would find someone better than me at your new university, at your new job.”

Seungmin sighed, and he reached over, resting to fingers under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him as he smiled, “There’s no one else I want except you,” he whispered, and you could’ve sworn your heart combusted right there.

And when Seungmin took you to the Christmas lights after dinner, the bouquet of roses still in your arms as he pressed his soft lips against yours, you couldn’t wait to go up to your friends the next day and proudly declare that yes, you were absolutely dating Kim Seungmin.

(and maybe give them a Starburst for making it happen.)

a/n: im sorry im rereading this and it’s trash plsdontkillme

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thekitschdiet · 3 years

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the kitsch diet part II

part one alr posted!! this chunk is about 3,000~ words long... let me know what u think :-) thank u all for all the luv already!!! looks like I really will hit 31 followers by easter!!!!!!!!

Who is the Kitsch Girl?

I think this is more loosely defined, but The Chic Diet did a truly admirable way of reducing a girl to her YSL bag and her really skinny legs. Now, that implies an archetype, or a population in a specific location. I think kitschness is kind of the niche you fill when you’re not really much of anything else, sort of your own conglomerate of mainstream-specific. One major requirement, though, is being a little too into something somewhat uncool. And the whole illusion falls apart if you have any sort of outward insecurity. See, the Kitsch Girl is somewhat undefinable because she is so much of everything. She exists in multitudes, in a way that is also quite simple to understand; think of a list of axioms, or principles to live by. And now add a section to each one that says “but…” to make a collection of verified exceptions. Say, the kitsch girl will never wear jeans. But she thrifted this pair of vintage flares she just loves. She doesn’t reply to texts efficiently, but sometimes she will within a couple seconds. No mascara, no dinner forks, candles are to be collected not burned; but that was a gift, or something. It’s not personal, of course, those are just the contradictions she exists in. Don’t try to understand it, the enigma is essential to the facade. Or maybe she just lives like this, and her character is so homogenous with her inner world there’s no sense in trying to separate it. You have to have a little bit of an individuality complex about the whole ordeal, which is normally so eugh, but if you’re kitschy enough it works on you. Trust!The Kitsch girl is not someone unlikeable, but amiable and well heeled. I double checked that last one, assuming it meant liked by most, but apparently means affluent. I suppose that is an aspect of the kitsch girl too, having seemingly endless frivolous expenses with no real strain, but that’s not important right now. People that don’t like her think so out of jealousy, or something. Envious that her clothes are all kind of shake-it-up-esque and her highlights desperately need touching up, but she still seems so enthralled with the whole of life… How does she enjoy her own company so much when other people want to know her better? Doesn’t she feel weird about blowing people off to make a joke about reading Kafka in the bath? Why would she document her cluttered, unexciting life on Instagram so delicately, so vibrantly? Of course, no one would say this to her face because they are really baseless claims. She’s nice, generous, and valuable to have as a friend. Trade-offs exist, as they do with anyone. But I like thinking it’s easier to overlook a forgotten birthday when your kitschy best friend gave you a multi strand pearl necklace to celebrate the welcome breeze of June. Or some other made-up holiday. She is so unassuming if you’re not really looking. Girls want in on her inner circle. Or they just don’t care. Nothing wrong with being liked or thought of naught, for the most part. Boys are either enthralled or repulsed by her. Her doctor knows her as something of a hypochondriac, but only minorly. It’s just carpal tunnel, don’t worry… The sales staff at CVS turn a blind eye when she slips an eyeliner pencil into her tote bag. She shoplifts on occasion, just to see if she still knows how. But she is not a shoplifter. $9 here and $6.45 there doesn’t really add up to much. Everywhere she goes, she makes a tertiary friend or two. The term of friend is loosely used here, of course. But it is nice to tell a stranger you like her earrings. Or her phone case is so fun, is it Wildflower? The kitsch girl has an eye for this kind of detail. Simply put, she is sort of unspectacular. But in a way that makes you sort of wish you knew her better.

Phone cases

The phone case is, like, religious for the kitsch girl. Sorry, but there’s just no other accessory as flippant and expensive and single-purpose as a trendy little iPhone case with some semitacky stickers plastered over the design. I used to have an iPhone XS- extrasmall- with like, 18 phone cases. It was kind of a sordid affair. I jest, but really… owning that many phone cases was kind of sick. We get it, you are frivolous and spontaneous and sooo stylish! Stop posting mirror selfies on your Instagram story, your crush isn’t going to see it. Kidding again. Having an extensive collection of phone cases is just so fun because while attainable, most people just simply do not partake in it. That makes you kitschy and unique. I really thought I had more to say about the IDEA of the phone case, but I guess in practice it is all very, very simple. You can slide your driver’s license in the back of a clear case. At what point does it stop being cool to have legal operational control of a vehicle? I don’t display mine because I don’t really like the photo. I look round. In the eyes but also just in general, swollen, unglamorous. Whatever. Not like I drive a Nissan or anything. I drive my *Mom’s* Nissan. Playing Bladee in the car seems sacrilegious. She would hate it.Back to phone cases. Sonix ones are cute but kind of overpriced retail- unless you have like, an iPhone 12 Pro Max or whatever the fuck is new this year, just go to Winner’s. They always have Xs and 11 cases. I had a cherry one for my previous phone, like the exact one Lana Del Rey had? Thank god I sold it before she got outed as a copfucker or whatever. Casetify is for an inadvertent flex. Flexing your lame, lame taste. Sorry, I know you bought it because you liked it, but what you failed to consider is just how un-Kitsch they are. SO common, and they advertise on Instagram. Sorry, I just can’t get into it! Kind of how I just never liked the Brandy Amara tanks. Or lowtop converse. Otterbox is just distressing. Like, if my boyfriend gave me an otterbox phone case I would probably break up with him because somebody clearly isn’t paying attention- one of my favorite, potentially overused joke is how Otterbox cases are the equivalent of orthopedic insoles. Sorry but if you have poor arch support or whatever, but no pain is worth giving up a good pair of Margiela slingback tabi heels. Obviously I couldn’t afford that right now because all loose income goes directly to Wildflower and my cig boy. But like, one day. I hope you want to punch me in the face a little bit after reading that. If Wildflower isn’t your thing, at least have the decency to get a beaded phone strap. But not from String Ting. Pray tell you aren’t keeping score, but they are one of my several parasocial enemies. That should have been ME collaborating with Wildflower! Should have been ME mailing shit to Caroline Calloway (more on her later, but she is the only blue check I follow. I adore her! I was on her patreon for a bit I thinkl!!) …. Side note. Phone cases are cute but there is no way to properly protect your laptop without looking just absurd or colossally lame. The foam sleeves… ick.

Having the shittiest music taste ever

So like, here’s the thing. I’m an Apple Music user, which sort of reinstates my status as an unironic My Bloody Valentine Hyperpop Death Grips kinda gal. Read; volcel. My most recent conquest ended up being a huge L on my part, but also… I totally dodged a bullet. The guy had an iPhone 11 (female trait) and didn’t know who Rei Brown was, which just seemed suspicious given his Niche. I just know he had a “making out playlist” comprising entirely of like, Joji. Which isn’t a bad thing I guess but so unembarrassing it horseshoes back to being humiliating.Like I said. Having the worst music taste. It’s nice how subjective and deeply personal your music taste can be; no one really Needs to know you’re a die hard drainer. But there’s also no point in being a die-hard drainer and Not capitalizing off it somehow. I added it up and I have well over 150 hours of just Bladee and Yung Lean. Which is so yass? The more I write, using myself as a case study, I realize just how desperately jobless I am. And Yogenfruz isn’t even hiring! UGH!I think there is something very kitschy about liking hyperpop in the least ironic, least obnoxious way. Sort of feeds into a “I’m not like other girls” thing, but I mean… That’s kind of the idea of kitsch, isn’t it? Be a little different but also the very same as your lipgloss brethren?!Side note. If you make monthly playlists I am genuinely kind of afraid of you. That is just so organized!! I just make playlists with esoteric titles and then make a new one when I’m sick of the stuff on the last. I have exhausted most genres but I think my favorite is the “I’m wearing f****ng air forces and my teeth are SO white”. Guess what genre it is. Or don’t, but it’s probably what you think is. Okay, moving on….

Curating a scent

I like thinking I smell like mango and peach, Glossier you, whatever citrus is in that Lush shower jelly and mint 5Gum. But of course it is probably less distinct and just kind of generally fruit-floral-mint. Anyway. I think Glossier You is the perfect scent for anyone with a rather elementary understanding of the whole.. Perfume business. Every bottle of intentional fragrance I own was made via aesthetic choices… it really helps that Glossier You is so cute And so universal. Now, Glossier is kind of interesting to me because it really is at the intersection of cheugy and kitsch. Kind of basic, overplayed, unspectacular. But also…. Often popular things are popular because they are good. Glossier has excellent customer suurv, they ship SO fast (and no import duties! W!) and their stuff is just so sweet and nice if not unoriginal, in kind of the same way strawberry ice cream is. Which is still my favorite, of course, especially if there’s a vegan option. I was talking about Glossier. What the hell! It’s really worth trying out. A huge principle of kitsch is just… having as many possible layers and appendages to your composure as possible. And adding a signature scent just really completes that! When curating your own, I say this as a complete amateur, know-nothing; make it something that comes kind of naturally to Your Character. Like, I’m just not a Chanel No 5 kind of girl. Odds are you aren’t either. My bottle (before she asked for it back when I told her I didn’t use it, in exchange for a Nordstrom’s gift card) was from my grandmother. Ummm.. Yeah, I really have no expertise in curating a scent. But it is nice to have a signature. And having a bottle displayed on your dresser next to your aughties McDonald milkshake themed beanie baby and a handful of lip products is just way too fun! This is the kind of girl I am, everyone! Cluttered, but prioritizing pretty-delicate things!

Cheugyism

Cheugy is a relatively new word that has unfortunately wormed into my vocabulary to replace “uncouth”. Which I use to mean graceless or tacky, but if that isn’t what it means…. Don’t tell me. That would hurt more than weighing myself after a “feast” slash pastry binge at my dear Grandmothe’s house. Like I was saying. Cheugy. It’s sort of a fucked up concept to me because it is a critique on consumption, but not the pace or volume or magnitude of it. But rather… the idea of not being “good” enough at engaging in microtrends, or involvement in the fast paced fashion cycle. Don’t get me started on TikTok, or do, but… yeah,. No. That will require a cigarette because I’m so sorry, but writing a thinkpiece on social media is so lowbrow I would need to find about six ways to aesthetically counteract it…. Moving on. I think the idea of cheugy is good, we really do need a word to simply and efficiently define “out of date/uninspired/lame”. But the way it is used to shame others for not liking the same trends or whatever is kind of gross. If you use cheugyism to put other people down and not as a neutral identifier umm… you will become what you fear. Sorry, that’s what happens. Some things that I think are cheugy or embarrassing, or just not part of my stylistic lexicon are… 1. Hooded or zip up clothing, or things with a large graphic on the back. Bingo if it's all three! I just can’t get behind it. Side note, my summer home outfit is brandy sweats and a tube top (Urban Outfitters tank I ripped the straps off) and a large cardigan that should have belonged to a stoner, but probably didn’t. I can dunk on bulky, uninspired clothes because I would honest to God NEVER be caught DEAD out of the house wearing any of it. I’m so serious. Next segment should be about the kitsch girl’s inadvertent affinity for diuretics. Remind me….. One of the ports of my laptop is dead. Not really sure what to do about that.

Eye makeup and what it means to me….

Personally, I am one of those people who never wears foundation and kind of has a complex about it. The kitsch girl wears fluffy eyelashes and owns a plethora of sparkly eyeliner. Or maybe she doesn’t, but she has something distinct and a little ritzy, if not haphazard. We all saw Euphoria and it like, totally imprinted on us. The way glitter sits on your face after a long day is so resplendent. When it’s shining and a little bit melted off from your long, semi-productive day… ugh! Just made for film. Pictures on film. But not the Prequel app. I keep getting fucking ads for it. But it’s so embarrassing. Like, isn’t the whole point of film the authenticity of the moment? The texture of the afternoon? Why would you fabricate that? Prequel is just so cheugy. More on that later. But anyhow. Wearing a ton of eye makeup kind of fits with the idea of film too I think. Like, look at you, in the moment. With your strip lash falling off! It’s all so tres-chic. Plus, for whatever reason, it’s kind of unique or notably dedicated to ~Pull up to the function~ with more eye makeup on than everyone else. Sorry, but it really doesn’t take that long! But yes I will gracefully accept your praise… it’s kind of like the dropshipping of complements if you think about it. Easy to source with little to no effort in the curating. Side note, lashes are like $20 for 40 weeks if you cut them in half and use each pair about 5 times. You could probably do more but I lose track. How the fuck is it almost June? I was trudging through the snow to check the mail for my Online Ceramics shirt just last week, I swear. The trick to cutting your lashes (the way I do it anyway) is pretty simple. Get out two lashes that are symmetrical. Find the middle and cut one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right. This means you have two sets (one set is a little more dramatic than the other but at least they are symmetrical) with longer outer edges. Glue this to the outer corner of your eye and you will look so Composed… obsessed with how this layers with three eyeliner tails (one traditional one pointing up and one pointing down directly below it, sort of like the tail light on a 2019 Lexus UX) and one below your eye, like a clown. Fun, irrelevant fact, is the first time I added this third tail to my eye makeup, my dad had just gotten home from the hospital because he was sure he had like appendicitis or something and it was actually.. Not that. Typical indie hypochondriac. He made me bring him cottage cheese on a plate with a teaspoon that evening. I put black pepper on it for flair, which he hated. Walking up and down stairs with a plate of cottage cheese is much more imprinting than most of the multiplication tables. Don’t forget to use a bright shimmer eyeshadow in your inner corner. It really opens up your eyes. I recommend Too Faced. One time I got a little bit too high and tried to film an “editorial” makeup tutorial. You will never, ever, ever see that video. But I essentially covered my whole eyelid in the ABH shadow “palermo” and smudged out the edges with a tan Tartelette Toasted shade, coupled with my long-expired Milk Makeup holographic stick. Lopsided lashes and near-blinding eyeliner experience aside, it was kind of cool. My point is, you really cannot go wrong with an arsenal of shimmers, taupey mattes and a good eyeliner pen.

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officialleotolstoy · 3 years

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Oh Natasha/Andrei brainrot we’re really in it now, aka Natasha/Andrei playlist annotations!

Honestly the age gap is so inherently uncomfortable it’s difficult for me to really ship this but I think in terms of the REALLY low bar of W&P marriages/almost-marriages, it’s one of the better ones because they at least mutually care about each other. It’s also just devastating on principle!

There are several distinct sections of song on here, this is one of the few I’ve actually put in a significant order, so I’m going to break it down into that.

Part 1: Initial Meeting/Falling In Love The First Time/General

Absolutely Smitten - dodie

“She wants to dance around the room, kiss you until her lips turn blue”

This song really reminds me of their first meeting when they’re both like 👀 at each other. I like how it captures the excitement but also nerves of the girl, which I feel like is an important feature of Natasha’s part of the relationship.

Helpless - Philippa Soo

“Tryin' to catch your eye from the side of the ballroom”

Sorry to all the ex-Hamilton stans I jumpscared with this, but it’s about the Philippa Soo Singing About Falling In Love vibe. Also the quoted lyric reminds me of their iconic dance scene, or at least the bits leading up to that.

To Noise Making (Sing) - Hozier

“Honey, the look of it was as sweet as the sound; Your head tilt back, your funny mouth to the clouds”

This reminds me of the scene where she sings for him and he’s like WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH im in love! I paraphrase, but you get the idea.

Golden Years - David Bowie

“Look at that sky, life's begun”

This is objectively the stupidest song on here. It’s here because I think it’s funny to imagine the iconic Natasha/Andrei dance just being the Golden Years dance from A Knight’s Tale, HOWEVER the quoted lyric is in fact Andreicore.

Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You - The Arctic Monkeys

“And I know we got places to go, we got people to see/Think we both oughta put 'em on hold”

‘Wren there are several songs that are on this playlist AND your Andrei/Pierre playlist’ Thank you for noticing it’s because if Tolstoy can recycle the same lines of dialogue for these relationships I can recycle the same songs! This song is just. I Hate Everyone Except You :) which is deeply Andrei @ both of them. But also like wanting life to stop so you can just hang out with Your People.

Strawberry Blond - Mitski

“I love everybody because I love you”

I’m pretty sure someone once pointed out how this lyric fit Andrei/Natasha once in a post and I cannot for the life of me remember who but that made an impression on me. Mystery person, thanks <3 Also I forgot this was a Mitski song??

The Anchor - Bastille

“Bring me some hope by wandering into my mind”

One of Thee things about their relationship that sticks out to me is how Natasha is so lifelike and her very existence gives Andrei hope for the world. It’s so. It’s so much!

Something After All - Starry

“You’ve turned my world around”

Like I said above, falling in love with Natasha really changes Andrei’s entire worldview! I also think “I've spent years building up walls” is very Andrei, and Natasha kind of brought them down, like what happens in the song.

Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

“A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes”

IT’S ABOUT THE SPACE METAPHORS FOR LOVE. THIS IS NO ONE ELSE FROM GREAT COMET’S FAULT.

Cold Cold Man - Saint Motel

“I know I am a cold cold man: quite slow to pay you compliments or public displayed affections”

It’s about being generally not very emotional or expressive but being devoted to the person anyway...very Andrei-ish.

Ophelia - The Lumineers

“I don't feel nothing at all and you can't feel nothing small”

The quoted lyric just seems like a really good summary of their dynamic, but I also think “Heaven help a fool who falls in love” works well for bitter post-elopement vibes, so this song was difficult to place.

Part 2: Andrei Leaving For Abroad

Misbehavin’ - Pentatonix

For some reason this is on both the Nat/Andrei and Natasha playlists and I’m too lazy to change it. Just go look at those annotations.

No One Else - Great Comet

Duh

To a Poet - First Aid Kit

“I got on a plane and flew far away from you, though unwillingly I left”

This song makes me think of Andrei abroad missing Natasha :( Honey you’ve got a big storm coming

Part 3: Post-Elopement Breakup Songs

I Hope Your Husband Dies - Amigo The Devil

“All the distance that we've spent apart will never have to mean a thing”

This song is VERY much Andrei about Anatole. “Now you're with this asshole, you expect me to believe it's going to last” really works because her relationship with Anatole was never going to last, whether or not she knew that. And “I'm not so much afraid of being alone, just kind of feel I've had enough/And time and time again, time reminds me you'll never be my own/We'll never have a house to decorate, a place that we can call our home” as an Andrei thing makes me very sad!!!

Ruins - First Aid Kit

“Ruins, all the things we built assured that they would last”

I think you can safely say their relationship was in ruins after the elopement attempt. I also think “I lost you, didn't I? First I think I lost myself” is something Natasha would think about the whole scenario

Half of My Heart - John Mayer

“Half of my heart's got the right mind to tell you that I can't keep loving you with half of my heart”

I think this is supposed to be more of an “I don’t love you anymore and that’s on me” song, but I like to mentally frame it in the context of Andrei after the elopement refusing to take back Natasha. I also think all the bits about the singer’s love interest changing the singer’s outlook on life before really fits, like “Lonely was the song I sang 'til the day you came, showing me another way”

Love Like Ghosts - Lord Huron

“You don't want me baby please don't lie/Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why”

It’s all about the singer being haunted by a love that doesn’t necessarily reciprocate on the same level, and I think that really fits Andrei’s mindset. It breaks my heart to think about him trying to figure out what he did wrong, why he wasn’t enough for Natasha, and so that quoted lyric really makes me just. :(

Cold Day In Heaven - Delta Rae

“Keep thinking bout when we started, so innocent/Your heart was a mess and I was lost in it”

This whole song is so good for them, it’s essentially just a couple being disappointed that their relationship didn’t work out well. The quoted lyric is so. AAAAHHH. because both of their hearts were messes but for different reasons, Andrei was so hopeless and bleak but Natasha was so naive and not ready for it and it’s so. It’s so Much. Also “We watched, the stars fell, and oh you know we let them/We said it’ll never happen, we said it’ll never happen to us/But it’s a cold day in heaven my love” gets me because 1) star/sky references :( and 2) Natasha especially did say it’d never happen to them, she was adamant that she’d love Andrei forever and that uh. I think we all know how well that worked out!

2 Months. - Zach Adkins

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

“I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug”

This is kind of a generic betrayal/breakup/I-miss-you song, but I think it works. Especially with “I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain” and the focus on the singer’s lover getting them through difficult times and then abandoning them.

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

“Take me back to the night we met”

I think people are legally obligated to have this song on any playlist for a couple that doesn’t end well. It’s generic but it’s good! The entire Strange Trails album my BELOVED!

Careless Whisper - George Michael

“I should have known better than to cheat a friend and waste a chance that I'd been given, so I'm never gonna dance again the way I danced with you”

UNIRONICALLY THIS SONG. I think it’s the focus on dancing as like a significant marker of the relationship for me, especially given how heavily adaptations focus on their dance at that ball. The quoted lyric reminds me of Natasha’s mindset after all of this. Also “We could have been so good together, we could have lived this dance forever, but now, who's gonna dance with me? Please stay” reminds me of Natasha asking him to forgive her. Not to actually get sad over Careless Whisper but. :,(

With Or Without You - U2

“And you give yourself away”

The quoted lyric is in reference to the elopement in my head, and “I can’t live with or without you” is like. Andrei can’t continue on and let her back into his life, he admits that he can’t forgive her, but he also has no real will to live after she betrays him and goes off to die in war.

Atlantis - Seafret

“We've built this town on shaky ground”

“This town” is in reference to their relationship, and I like the acknowledgment that there was never a great foundation to begin with. And “maybe I’m not built for love” as an Andrei lyric is a little heartbreaking! Other than that it’s just a Breakup Song.

I Don’t Wanna See You Cryin’ Anymore - Adam Melchor

“I don't wanna be the reason you can't trust me like before/My head's in my hands as I'm shaking on the bathroom floor”

This reminds me of Natasha’s deep guilt over her betrayal of Andrei. The implication that Andrei would ever let anyone see him cry is a bit much for me, just ignore that HFJAHDHSH

Part 4: Reconciling While Andrei ✨Dies✨

Fake It - Bastille

“We can never go back, we can only do our best to recreate”

This whole is song is about trying to move forward from bad things in the past with your lover which is the whole vibe! But I also think it shows some reluctance on the part of the singer to forget, and a bit of a desperation to be able to leave the mistakes in the past. “Help me turn a blind eye” really captures that. I like this as the early stages of them reconnecting, because I think it’s realistic to have Andrei especially be wary but wanting it to get better.

Bad Blood - Bastille

“All this bad blood here, won’t you let it dry?”

Letting go of a grudge and trying to move on vibes!

Let It All Go - Birdy, Alvaro Soler

“We’re strong enough to let it go”

All their hurt surrounding the elopement is the Thing they’re letting go of in this case.

Flaws - Bastille

“You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground”

The quoted lyric just feels like their general dynamic to me. Natasha is so open about everything and does indeed wear her heart on her sleeve whereas Andrei represses every emotion he’s ever felt. I think this is a post-elopement song because of “Dig them up; let’s finish what we started”. That feels like them reexamining their relationship and what went wrong and trying again.

Moscow - Autoheart

“All I need’s a fraction of your happy heart”

This song is so 🥺. “We both know what we’ve got to do: head back to where the magic grew” reminds me of them accepting their reconnection and moving on and trying to rekindle whatever was between them. And “Let’s get a dog, an Irish red setter, it’s all we need to get better” feels emblematic of them looking forward to domestic happiness as the solution. And the quoted lyric screams Andrei about Natasha.

The Heart Is A Muscle - Gang of Youths

“I will look at love as more than just an instrument of pain”

Not to be off topic but this whole album is so good every single song makes me feel SHRIMP EMOTIONS god. Also the whole thing is very Andreicore and I had to stop myself from adding every song to his playlist. But I digress. This song is all about having been hurt by love in the past (“I let bad love betray me once”) but deciding to open your heart again which is very them! “I haven't had enough and I wanna love someone” AAAAHHHH. “I am human now and terrified, but want it all the same” Mr. GangOfYouths im going INSANE! “I just ask you to be patient if you’ll have me still” HELLO? Not to quote the whole song but “I wanna be loved, I wanna be whole again, so tuck my hair behind my ears and touch my soul again” as an Andrei/Natasha lyric...I need to sit down. Can you all tell this song makes me go all kinds of crazy. And this isn’t even my favorite song off the album!

Shrike - Hozier

“I couldn’t utter my love when it counted, ah but I’m flying like a bird to you now”

This song feels very “we tried to have a relationship a while ago and it didn’t work out that well but I still love you we could try again” to me which fits this time very well!

Part 5: Andrei Goes Splat :( [And The Aftermath]

Work Song - Hozier

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her”

I can’t say what it is exactly, but something about persistent love framed around the death motif works for me here.

Dancing After Death - Matt Maeson

“As the sun waits to eclipse and the taste teases my lips, I'm too tired to wrestle with it”

The quoted lyric reminds me of Andrei giving up and shutting down when he realizes he’s gonna die :( oh ALSO my brain always mentally fills in “and no one else” after the “you and I” that ends the chorus which does NOT help with my depression!

One Last Time - Jaymes Young

“Could I feel your skin on mine before I have to say goodbye?”

SCREAMS SO LOUDLY. The whole song is like. Someone dying and wanting to see their person one last time and AAAAAAAAAAA. I am a little incoherent maybe. “I'm leavin' this cold world of mine, no pleadin' is gonna turn back time” really Gets Me in the context of Andrei accepting his own death and withdrawing and it’s so. Anyway.

Oblivion - Bastille

“When oblivion is calling out your name, you always take it further than I ever can”

I don’t think this is exactly what the song is talking about, but the quoted lyric in the context of Andrei dying and Natasha watching him fade and withdraw...good Lord. I need emotional support.

Haunt - Bastille

“I’ll come back to haunt you/Memories will taunt you”

Natasha being haunted by the memory of Andrei!!! Help me!!!! Also “I will try to love you/It’s not like I’m above you” as a callback to Andrei’s feelings for Natasha when they start to reconnect is so mental illness inducing. OOOH and “Questioning why as you look to the sky that is cloudless up above our heads and thoughts come to mind that our short little lives haven't left the path that they will tread” any lyric ever about looking at the sky is Andrei’s now.

Without You - for KING & COUNTRY

“What do you do when you don't get better/Strong arms get too, get too weak to hold her”

:( :( :( :( :( Also “I’m not ready to live without you” I am so sad.

Good Grief - Bastille

“Every minute and every hour I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more”

Pain! Agony, even!

I made myself SO sad writing the entire last half of these annotations geez

#im so sad im so sad im so sad!#war and peace #great comet #natasha rostova #andrei bolkonksy #uhhh whats their ship name?#w&p playlists #my post #figured out how to do a read more bc this post is so LONG

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outroshooky · 4 years

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no halo | kth

⇢ genre: oneshot (brief angst, fluff, smut) (exestolovers!au)

⇢ pairing: kim taehyung x reader, bestfriend!min yoongi x reader

⇢ word count: 5.3k

⇢ audio: brockhampton’s ginger album

⇢ warnings: brief angst (it’s exes to lovers, what do you expect), a smoking mention, some varied cursing; implied and explicit smut (soft!! body worship). there’s a happy ending, i promise.

⇢ a/n: i sat down at my laptop today, turned on no halo by brockhampton, and started writing. six hours later, i cannot believe that i managed to smash a brutal writer’s block by churning this out in literally one day. i hope that this is a bit of bright light for you, dear reader, in a time where nothing seems to be going your way. you will make it through no matter how messy or uncertain life seems to be, and you will come out on the other side all the more stronger for having survived it.

Believe it or not, it’s the pair of battered red Converse slung over his shoulder that tips the whole thing over the edge.

It’s inexplicable. Perhaps it’s the memories attached to it, knotted and strung through metal rivets scuffed with night rides and hard asphalt. Tastes like cigarette smoke and ashen dreams wafting from the driver’s side window, but there’s something more bitter there. Heartbreak veins, like you’d expect them to pulse with anything but. They say love doesn’t last when it’s not built on something solid, but somehow, heady summer nights and network love aren’t enough to pass the time.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing with those?” It bites, thickened with venom. Somewhere far-off is a headboard banging, curses of those stupidly thin walls of the motel complex.

“They’re mine,” Yoongi says. Which they are. Unfortunately. “I need them to like, go outside and stuff.”

“Fuck you,” you fire back.

“A ray of sunshine you are,” he remarks. “Any particular reason you feel like biting my head off in this shitty hotel room?”

The silence explains absolutely nothing. What he doesn’t know is that it’s not his fault. It’s right there in the middle of the dingy carpet, cracked and bleeding, privy to one and one alone. You’re too stubborn and he’s too good and here you find yourselves, locked at an impasse. He doesn’t know how good he is, how he’s patched your wounds up with wind in your hair and sand between your toes. He tries his best; it’s better than anything you would allow yourself, a luscious pleasure in such a stark world. So you settle for what you’ve got, and he shakes his head.

“You know you can come to me, right? About what’s on your mind?”

You finger the fraying tear in the bedspread, the cotton crumbling between your thumb and index.

“Look, I’m not good at this feelings thing and you know that. But you’re my friend, and I care about you, and I want to hear you out, okay? Whatever you’re thinking about. You’re not gonna hurt me; it’s not like I haven’t been through the ringer myself. You’re not so different, yeah?” Yoongi’s eyes search your own for acceptance. Defeat. Anything at all. “You’re not some kind of lost cause because one asshole in particular who shall not be named made you feel that way. Maybe it was two assholes. Whatever. Your worth isn’t dependent on their opinion of you.”

It feels like rambling but burns like an iron, sears through the darkness hovering over your consciousness, casting shadow. That thing twitches, bent and broken deep inside, staining down the bedsheets and spilling onto the beige carpet. He’s hit home, and Yoongi knows it when the defiance in your brow drains, floodwater evaporating against the creamy popcorn ceiling. He’ll forever hold that he doesn’t have a way with words; you’d kindly argue the opposite.

“I’m sorry, Yoon.” You look up at him for the first time since you’d woken up on opposite sides of the same bed. Something about childhood innocence preserves moments like those, in spite of years gone past since the last time you shared a bed like that. Nothing dirty about needing companionship in the form of a brother you’d had since you’d skipped stones down at the pond in grade school. He knows you intrinsically, like the scars that cross his knees and the freckles that dot his neck, no better and no less. “You deserve better than the way I’ve been treating you. Because you’re right, you know. But right now, it hurts.”

“Hurt doesn’t make you any less human. It’s a part of life. And it’s okay to hurt sometimes. Just don’t let it consume you till there’s nothing left.” He readjusts the shoes tied together by one string, sitting on the narrow angular of his shoulder. “Breakfast ends in an hour. I’ll grab you something and bring it back, and then we’ll figure out what to do next, yeah? I don’t have work till Tuesday, so we don’t have to be back for a few days more.” He pauses in the doorway. “Oh, and for the record, fuck Kim Taehyung. I’ll knock his teeth through his ass for the shit he put you through.”

The small smile you crack brings a toothy grin to his own visage. “Excellent advice.”

There’s a wry fondness dancing in the deep russet of his pupils, burning umber in the low light. “I try.”

Fuck Kim Taehyung. The exact advice you needed to hear, and the exact advice you decided to act upon, in exactly all of the wrong ways.

It’s the number that is stamped on your brain like a fifty-dollar tattoo— not necessarily the most tasteful, a pain in the ass to remove. Unfortunately, it is the tattoo that your thoughts like to trace with gentle fingers, rubbing at the lines, blurring the edges. Laser removal takes time and patience, but the contrary nestles in the form of stupid decisions and late-night mistakes. Like a dead battery on your Wrangler at 1am on the back streets, a useless cell phone, and three weeks of time to think.

Grief gave way to rage gave way to kindling coals of sadness, burning low but bright enough to light your way. Gone were your attempts to fan them back into the roaring bonfire those motel walls once contained, but here were your best efforts to cradle them close, nurture them that they might die out on their own, and most of them had. Moving on tasted ginger-sweet and minty-bitter, the chill in the air as the leaves tumbled and crunched underfoot, ignited with reds and yellows and everything in between. A summertime flame left for the autumn rain.

Pour the rain did, leaking rivulets down the windshield as you sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the dashboard. In times like these you’d call Yoongi, but he didn’t get off work till the morning and an impossibly timed dead zone did nothing to help your wireless suffering. Nighttime meant comfort for souls like yours, an escape into the quiet of dusk when everyone else sought the dreamy confines of sleep. Unfortunately, it meant that everyone else sought sleep while you were cursedly awake and stuck in the downpour. No place to go, no one to find.

You let your head fall forward and hit the steering wheel with a thunk. Fuck.

Knock knock.

It’s a glance to the left, out the driver’s side window that reveals a silhouette framed in darkness, wrapped in a thick coat, peering through the glass. Hand raised to brow and you can’t help the involuntarily yelp that leaves your mouth from the sheer proximity of the stranger. The figure flinches back in response, and you can’t help the immediate pang of worry. You can’t afford to miss a chance for help, but you also can’t roll down the window, and thus you’re opening the door and squinting into the rain as it blusters through the open gap. “Hello, I’m sorry, my cell phone isn’t working, is it possible for me to borrow yours so I could call somebody to pick me up?”

“Wait, what?” The stranger hunches slightly, peering through the watery onslaught. “Is that who I think it is?”

Oh god.

Oh god no.

The sheer absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on you, not like the way relief is wrapping that thick timbre around yourself like a familiar blanket. The irony of your car happening to die only a few blocks away from that little blue two-story, the coincidences of such a familiar stranger going out for a stroll in the middle of a fucking rainstorm. Of course he had to.

“Unfortunately,” you can’t help but grimace. “Taehyung, what the fuck are you doing out here in weather like this?”

You can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. It almost aches. “Are you saying this isn’t ideal weather to take a walk and enjoy the fresh air?”

“No,” you reply bluntly. Infuriatingly positive he is, always has been. “Ideal weather isn’t a fucking thunderstorm.”

“Mm.” The momentary quiet, save the rainfall, hints at what goes unsaid. “So what are you doing out here?”

You bristle. How to formulate a response that would not warrant help, but also warrant help? “I was out taking a late-night drive and stopped to take a break. I was getting drowsy and I prefer to be a responsible driver, so I pulled over to make sure I was awake enough to drive home.”

“What a considerate person you are!” Taehyung trills, and you’re almost positive it is completely unironic. “How are you feeling then? Do you think you’ll be able to drive home?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be fine.” A tight smile. Polite. It takes every ounce of will to not study him deeper, all of the curves and edges hidden snugly in the darkness. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s raining really hard as well; you won’t be able to see well even if you aren’t feeling drowsy.” There’s genuine concern in his tone, warmth bubbling from his throat like liquid sunshine. Maddening. But he’s right; he’s shining a bright light through the flimsy veil of your lies and you’re pinned. Even more maddening.

“Taehyung, it’s—” you clamp your mouth shut because in a slip of the tongue, you were that close to letting anger seep into your tone. That close to losing your stance as the better man, but the line of who exactly is the better man is smudged beyond sight in the downpour. You take a deep breath. Start again. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Lightning flashes, jolting the clouds and cleaving them in two. The very world could be coming down in tatters around him and Taehyung wouldn’t think twice about being his everyday self, annoyingly cheery and maddeningly gentlemanly. You swear you see a flash of teeth, a boxy smile despite the water dripping from his umbrella, striking the pavement with an irregular heartbeat. Not your own, of course. “Nonsense! We can’t have you left out here to soak like this. Come on, you can drive us home!”

Oh my god, he certainly has not disappeared quicker than the very implication left his mouth. He is not shaking his head like a dog shedding wetness, nor opening the passenger’s side and hopping in, pausing to fold his umbrella in the gap before pulling the door neatly shut. You are not seated in your dead Wrangler with your ex-boyfriend at one-thirty in the morning in the middle of the very heavens coming apart with a religious fervor.

Taehyung brushes his wet hair out of his face, dribbling water down his cheeks. For all of your expectations, he looks no different than when you saw him last, standing on the curb with all the world’s joys flickering in his pretty almond eyes. The shadows cast his profile in a gaunter light, sweeping down the hollows of his jawline, his cheekbones; your fingers tighten around the door handle. Apparently, three weeks might not change much after all.

“Oh sorry, did I rush you?” He opts to ignore your blank-eyed stare of shock, reaching out to you before pausing, his hand outstretched to touch you. “I didn’t mean to rush you if you’re not ready to drive yet. We can sit here as long as you’d like! There’s no rush for me to be home. I just wanted to get out of the rain; it was starting to soak through my umbrella!”

For all of this, you can manage a brief: “Yeah.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to go!” The optimism in his voice is painful.

“Taehyung.”

“Yeah!”

“I lied.”

You don’t need to look at him to know the way his forehead will furrow. “What?”

“Gah!” You can’t help pinching your brow between two fingers. “I can’t fucking believe this—”

“Believe what?” Blinking doe-eyes, long lashes wet and thick in the dimness.

“Taehyung, my car battery died three blocks from your house and my cell phone isn’t working, and now I’m sitting here with my ex-boyfriend in the passenger’s seat and I have no fucking idea how I ended up here.” You sigh. “Do you not see the irony in this?”

He blatantly ignores the gesture towards the massive elephant basically perched on the center console. “No wonder your car is off! We’ll walk then.”

“Taehyung, please just make it easier for the both of us and l—”

It’s no use. Dear god. How you had ever put up with him, shared a bed with him is currently escaping you, but regardless of this, he is already out of the car as the words punctuate empty air. Weighing options is impossible when you have none to choose from.

“-use my phone to call somebody to pick you up!” The driver’s side door opens and he’s there, right there, not across the console or the bar or whatever. Right there. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste!”

“Kim Taehyung, for god’s sake, I am your ex-girlfriend!” The exclamatory stops him in his tracks. Finally. “Why are you helping me?”

The rain pours rivulets down his black slicker, drenching his hair and bunching along his shoulders and running down his arms. And yet, he brushes the water from his brow with a swipe of his thumb, peers at you, sneakered feet planted firmly in the asphalt. He raises a finger to the sky, smiles— not a half-smile, lopey and lop-sided, but a true grin, squared and gummy and full of wonder. “Ideal weather.”

“Kim Taehyung, you are absolutely ridiculous—”

“Ideal!”

“So let me get this straight,” Yoongi grits as you sit across from him, your frame molded into the plush of his second-hand loveseat. “Your car died on the back streets, coincidentally three blocks from Kim Taehyung’s house, who is— just to double check— the asshole who shredded your relationship, and he happened to be out for a walk in the rain and stumbled across you in your car, and offered to take you back to his house and let you stay there till morning until you could get me to pick you up?”

“Yes.”

“What the actual fuck.”

You gesture at him with your free hand, the other occupying a mug of steaming tea. “Join the club.”

“Just to double check, we’re talking about the same Kim Taehyung. The dude who you officially dated for a solid four months but fucked around with long before that. That guy, right? That Taehyung?”

You release a deep breath; the steam rising from your mug winds away. “Yes, it’s the same Kim Taehyung.”

Yoongi looks like he is about to spit nails. “I hope you took the chance to kick him in the balls.”

“Yoongi!”

“Just saying.”

“It could’ve been a lot worse, actually.” Your companion raises an eyebrow. “He gave me his umbrella when we walked back.”

“Ah yes, because giving you his umbrella once undoes six months of emotional damage—”

“Yoongi, chill. I did what I had to do—”

“Which is good, because survival skills are important.” He searches your face for any hint of something other than stoicism. Forgiveness, maybe. “And it doesn’t have to be any more than that.”

“I didn’t say it was,” you affirm. “But even if I don’t like him, I owe him credit where it’s due.”

Yoongi frowns. He knows not to push, but curiosity pecks his bones, nips his intuition. “For the third time— why didn’t you call me last night when you got back to his house?”

You sip at your tea. Flaxen sweet, mild on your tongue. “You were at work and I didn’t want to bother. Paying rent is more important than saving my sorry stranded ass.”

“You’re neglecting to mention the Kim Taehyung part.”

He rubs a fine nerve, one push too far. “Yoongi, what are you so worried about?” You sit up, place your mug on the fold-out table. “It’s not like I’m suddenly pining over him just because he happened to be there when I needed help. It’s not like I had any other options; I can handle myself. Taehyung and I broke up a month and a half ago; I’m not as… broken as I was before.”

It’s written on Yoongi’s face that he doesn’t like it, but protectiveness wins out over stubbornness. It always does when it comes to you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

You soften. “I know.”

The tension drains from his hunched figure. “I know you can handle yourself when it comes to people like him. But I also know how hard you cried over him in a shitty motel all those weeks ago.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “I don’t want you to feel like that again because of someone. Fool me twice, you know? You deserve better than that.”

Your eyes flick to his. Steady, warm, weighing justice by the tawny flecks that glint in the raven black of his irises. “I do. And I don’t doubt that. It won’t happen again.”

His own mug clacks as it meets the wooden tabletop. “You know, you never told me what exactly happened between you two that ended it. Like, I know the rough idea, but not play-by-play. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but…” He trails off, leaving the gap.

“Ah.” A remark, neutral in sheen but bitter in taste. Like biting into the shell of a crisp apple, only to find that it’s not as sweet as once hoped it to be. “Sure.”

So Yoongi listens.

It’s strange how someone so vivid in nightmares, so seemingly real as the pen between your fingers or the breath in your lungs, can fade away so quickly by daybreak. Before you ran into Taehyung again (for better or for worse? For worse), he loomed as some larger-than-life figure in the back of your consciousness, spewing traumas and terrors like a river gully. But there he was in the passenger’s seat, no larger or smaller than before. Just Taehyung. Terrifying in premise, in rationality, on the contrary.

With that in mind, it was hard to not wonder if you had, perhaps, not given him credit where it was due. The Taehyung you met in the pouring rain was the same Taehyung whose hair you brushed sand from and temple you kissed and sides you pinched to get him to squeak when he laughed. Memories you tried to stuff away, filter through a new lens with every flicker in your mind, like a crackling film reel. But there he was, and here you were, and you weren’t quite sure who you were running from anymore.

Is it easy to run from someone who your lips know the taste of, fingers know the feel of? Is it easier to run from yourself when you strip away the miscommunications, aches and pains?

Yoongi knew the full story now. Terrifying to admit your fault, any measure of it, because you never liked to show him what being broken looked like. Some measure of personal freedom exercised, but with the wrong heart in mind, because he would never judge anything you had to say and instead, simply listen. He was always an older soul than you ever tried to be and he knew it, rugged wisdom at its finest. But ultimately, he only knew what he was told or taught, and there you were, spilling the unmangled truth to him on a Wednesday morning over two cups of chamomile tea.

Coming to grasp with imperfections is part of the cursed struggle of being human, of embracing those little nicks and dashes that make us who we are. It does not mean we are loved any less, but loved because of them; none of us are angels. These messes are our measures, our faults and our pleasures. How terrifying it all is, being ourselves. Being raw and vulnerable and attacking those thoughts that weigh heavy on our consciousness, day after day.

And it is easy to wonder if you matter through all of this, through the chaos of that inner dialogue. It’s moments like these that put those perspectives into frame, click them like camera shutters pausing time to breathe and think. To look at the white-framed ink is to rewrite tangibility, printed blurry on those transparent rolls. Nothing is so unforgettable when it is angled just so.

In the evening, in the comforts of your apartment, you uncork a Polaroid from where it is hidden behind some cheery optimistic phrase you stole off of tumblr. Bullshit for the purpose it serves, painfully ironic for the task it demands. A picture of a boy with cherry-red hair and a boxy grin on his face, arms wrapped around you with all of the comforts and ease of home. There’s mirth in your eyes, sheer joy and laughter. No alcohol involved, just two people who found it easy to slip into each other’s company just-so. A jasper gem for you, polished to perfection and printed right underneath your fingertips.

Anxiety clenches at the base of your jaw, massages your throat with the cruelest intentions. You swallow it back.

The phone rings once.

Twice.

Crackles to life.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Taehyung?”

His voice melts through the receiver like buttery chocolate, smooth and warm. “You still have my phone number! Hello! I thought I’d never hear from you.”

“I-I’m sorry, what?” You blink in confusion, then shake your head. “Never mind.”

“I thought I’d never hear from you. That guy who picked you up didn’t seem to say much, but I figured you’d call eventually to say that you made it home safe. So I guess you did! And I’m glad.” You can hear Taehyung smiling through the phone, easy inflections of speech.

“Yeah.” You fidget, playing with the edge of your sleeve. Now or never. “Taehyung, I owe you an apology.”

This is the first time he falters, hints at something deeper. “What for?”

You take a deep breath. “You were kind to me. And I didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time, so I was a complete asshole to you. And I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it was the least I could do! Nobody deserves to be stuck in the pouring rain—”

“I’m not talking about the rainstorm.”

He stutters. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Taehyung.”

He’s quiet. It is terrifying.

“Taehyung, both of us know what I mean.”

You momentarily wonder if the line has gone dead. Perhaps it has. A saving grace, and then that deep timbre crackles to life on the other side. You nearly miss what he says.

“I want to hear you say it,” he whispers.

“You were kind to me,” you stutter. “Kind to me; so, so kind. And I didn’t recognize it for what it was w-when you gave it to me. And I was a complete asshole to you. I’m sorry.” You wait for something, anything, but he gives no intention, and you continue. “Taehyung, you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was so terrified that I stuffed it away into some far-off corner and tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening. I turned so much outward onto you that you didn’t deserve because I didn’t know how to be good enough for someone like you. I took you for granted, Taehyung, the exact opposite of everything I should have done. You glow like the literal fucking sun, and I’m a little cloud drifting through the sky. I should’ve let you shine through me, but instead, I just blocked you out. And I’m sorry,” you confess, the tension in your shoulders collapsing. “I’m sorry.”

For the first time in weeks you wish you could see him in front of you, gauge his reactions like barometric pressure, but instead he’s across town and you are here, feeling ever-so-small in spite of yourself. It was easy to read what he was thinking, painted across his face in swaths of joy and sadness and everything in between, but here, he gave away nothing.

Please say something, Taehyung. Please say anything.

“Ideal weather,” he murmurs.

“W-What?”

“A sun without clouds in the sky shines blindingly. Clouds temper all that light; certainly we don’t need all of it.” It sounds so cheesy, some Shakespearean verse he quotes from off the top of his head, but it is the closest thing he’ll phrase to acceptance, and you swallow down a relieved sob. He calls you by name then, lets it ring warm and sweet, the way he used to say it. With life, energy, everything it lacked simply because it rang from all the wrong mouths till then. “Everything happens for a reason. You did the best you could. It just didn’t work out at the time.”

“Taehyung, it’s okay to blame me. It’s okay to say that I was the one who fucked it all up, not you. For god’s sakes, you never did anything wrong. It was always my insecurity, my mistakes—”

“You’re only human. You did the best that you could, just as I did. Who could blame you for that?” Taehyung’s words seep heat into your bones, calm your trembling fingers. “I couldn’t. Nobody could. I certainly don’t think any less of you for it. None of us are angels; we did our best with what we had. And that’s alright.”

You can’t help but laugh, dry, monosyllabic. “You handled this so much remarkably better than I did, god.”

He’s breathy with amusement. “It took a little while.”

“I could imagine.”

He hums. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

Your index finger finds the edges of the instant photo. His smile catches in the light of your desk lap. “There’s another reason I called.”

“That wasn’t it?”

“Believe it or not, no.” You trace his shoulders, the planes of his chest. “I just wanted to say. I have a Polaroid of us from July, from that bonfire that Jeongguk had with like fifty people down at the beach. I kept it, selfishly. It’s been pinned up on my bulletin board behind another piece of paper. But I took it out today. And I think I might pin it up in front now.”

“Oh, the cherry red hair.” The fondness seeps through the receiver. “I loved that night.”

“Me too,” you admit. A beat of silence. “Goodnight, Taehyung. Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re hanging up already?”

“What?” You nearly sputter.

“I haven’t gotten to talk about the Polaroids I kept, too.”

There are two ways to fundamentally seduce Kim Taehyung: make his coffee exactly how he likes it, or play with his hair while he’s lying on your chest. Both of which you achieved, and both of which led to your current predicament.

But we’ll rewind a bit.

That phone call, the first of many, lasted into the early hours of the morning, that sacred time that you both hold dear. It tasted like nostalgia and fondness, feelings you corked and bottled out of fear of what might lie on the other side. But in this case, the other side was a friend and more, a living history book for all of the cracks in between. And he simply adored filling them in.

That lazy afternoon where you planned on having a date at the park, but it had poured rain nearly as intense as the day you reconnected with him. You danced in between the raindrops instead, bare feet on the gravely asphalt, wishing you could touch heaven and so you kissed the boy whose cheeks were between your palms. The spontaneous road trip you took to the next big city over, five hours away, simply because for the first time in so long, you had nowhere to be but with each other. Hands held between library shelves, firelight’s glow on faces untouched. Sharing a tuft of blue cotton candy with sticky fingers, talking about everything and nothing under the moonlit, cloudless sky. For every instant photo saved were memories tenfold that he plucked from that mind of his like stars placed in the breadth of the cosmos.

One phone call became two, became four. Became texting over a break at work, FaceTiming over dinner. Became meeting each other for a late breakfast, studying at the cafe for an early afternoon cup of espresso. Depth and understanding, and Taehyung is slotting into your life without a second thought, as easily as you’re slipping into his. You let him this time, so much smoother than before. You want him to.

Neither of you can deny what it is happening, but neither of you can find a complaint to lodge. So when he asks you out, fingers entwined over the metal arm of the park bench, a bouquet of sunflowers tucked next to you, he already knows what your answer will be.

Indeed, there are two fundamental ways to seduce Kim Taehyung, and as a master of both of them, it is only a matter of time before you find yourselves at the foot of your bed; he pulls you closer to press his lips to your own. He tastes like cappuccino and chocolate and you’re humming into the kiss, shuddering underneath him. He still knows your body, every divet, every edge. He never stopped loving it— never stopped loving you.

He worships the way he loves— selflessly, giving every ounce of himself without abandon or question. When he eases himself between your thighs, the look in his eyes is nothing short of sinful adoration, seeking out every secret to your pleasure. It’s ingrained in his memory, the way you gasp or grab his hair when his fingers dance along your skin; he couldn’t forget it even if he tried. It is worth every wince as your digits tug at his scalp; he swallows down everything you give him and begs for more, more, more.

And likewise you lavish him, devoting minutes to dot his heaving ribs with kisses, stroking comforting palms down his sinewy thighs. Taehyung is every work of art you have wanted to see in a museum, living, breathing, merely mortal but so much more. So vibrant, so raw.

And afterwards you lie together, unable to tell where he begins and you end. Breathing in the heat, piecing each other together in the silent din. Clothes are tossed about the room; you can’t find it in you to care. You turn to him, caress his cheek, run a thumb over his lips. “Stay here tonight. Please.”

He smiles and your thumb brushes his teeth, boxy and exposed through the gap of his grin. “Was the overnight bag not enough?”

“How did I not notice you packed an overnight bag?” You sit up, wrapping the blankets around your torso, scanning the room to spot his duffel.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, wraps himself around you like a human koala. “I’m very good at being sneaky.”

“Mm, I noticed.” There it is, against your dresser. Your heart swells, fit to burst.

“Come to bed,” Taehyung hums, gritty, a little seductive. It sends a chill down your spine. You don’t think it’s meant to. Your fingers find his own and knit together over his knuckles.

“I’m right here, sunshine.”

He kisses behind your ear, the gentlest of intentions. “I love you,” he whispers. “Come to bed.”

You squeeze over his hand. Everything left unsaid, in the space of a breath. Two. “I love you too,” you whisper. “And I will always be here, loving you, with everything I could possibly give you. Every ounce of my heart. I love you.”

He squeezes back, wraps the blanket around your frame, tucks you in tight. He kisses your shoulder with lips of silk, and you roll on your side to get comfortable, his arm draped over your waist.

Against the far wall, propped up on his duffel, lies a pair of Converse sneakers, as scuffed and beaten as they were saturated with rain, on the day you fell in love with Kim Taehyung all over again.

#btswritersnet #bts #bts fluff #bts smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #kpop fluff #kpop smut #exes to lovers au #outroshooky

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pikachugirl1250 · 5 years

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I guess no one’s made a post with quotes from the amazing Sonic ‘06 dub so here’s my master post:

“Oh man, I hope somebody fucks up the fireworks.” *literally 3 seconds later, the entire place is being blown up*

“O N E!” *said by Sonic in front of Elise*

“We always miss the ice cream airship, Tails!”

“Hey Rouge, hey Rouge, hey Rouge, we found the computer room.” “Oh fuck the computer room! We can play so much Fortnite in here, dude!”

“So, this is the fabled Tilted Towers.” *the whole cast bursts in laughter*

“That’s what you get for unironically having 69 in your name!”

“Going through the floor. Who do you think you are, Danny Phantom or something?” “My shadow...that’s how I got my name!”

*Mephiles (I’m sorry, Memphis) comes out, violently coughing, then laughs menacingly* “Welcome to Tilted Towers. My name is Memphis Tennessee and I am part lizard.”

“In your future, it looks like you will kiss seven girls. How lucky for you.” “Joke’s on you, if you a true copy of me, you’d know I’m gay!”

*after the Iblis battle* “And then we ate it.”

“I’m not even gonna pretend you were talking about Fortnite. I just really love bringing up my favorite game whenever I can.”

“They don’t treat you like a friend, they treat you like an item.” *the cast starts to laugh hard* “Sometimes I wish I could be more than just an accessory...but unfortunately, as a gamer, I don’t get respect.” “I’m not a gamer, so maybe they’ll respect me!” “That just makes you a beta cuck.” *the cast chokes in laughter*

“OH! OH MY GAWD, SOMEONE HELP ME!” ... “I had to trap Sonic in the hell dimension cause he disrespected gamers.”

“PUBG’S OLD NEWS, EGGMAN! Tetris 99’s where it’s at!”

“Tell it to us in excruciating detail, Tails.” “Well, it was a whole dream— Bye!” “You knew that was coming, you asshole.” *said by Ryan*

“You’re heavy!”

*both Shadow and Rouge turn around quickly* “Sorry, I thought I heard a cat.”

“All around me are familiar Blazes, worn out Blazes, worn out Blaze— IS THAT WHAT A HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?”

“I am happy with myself. I have a Positive Mental Attitude!” “Gawd I wish that were me.”

*a butterfly lands on Sonic’s nose* “This is food, Elise.”

“YOU MUST NEVER RAP AGAIN, OR ELSE THE WORLD WILL BE DESTROYED!” “Have you even heard my mixtape? It’s fire!”

“Aw dammit, I missed my opportunity on Sonic’s next album!”

“You don’t make this fun cause you’re sad!” “I’m always sad!”

“EGGMAN I FUCKED YOUR WIIIIIIIIIIIIFE—“

“I flushed them down the terlet.”

“Listen, you got any weed on you?” “No, what are you the only one who smokes weed here, Knuckles? Except for maybe Rouge. Rouge?” “Speak for yourself, motherfucker!”

“That’s the last fucking time you confuse me with that blue asshole. You did it once before, you did it again. You did it at our wedding, Rouge.” “You just look so much alike!”

“You know, maybe things aren’t so bad. I’m here, I got the nice ocean breeze. Just alone with my thoughts.” “Hey Silver.” “GAWDDAMMIT!”

“YOU HAD THE WEED THE WHOLE TIME?!” “YOU INTERRUPTED MY BROODING—“

“So, lemme get this straight. You’ve been dating...Sonic? The hedgehog? The blue one? Looks like this?” “I guess? If that’s my story arc, then yes!” *the cast snickers, then bursts into laughter as Amy examines Elise* “Yep, I can kill ya.”

“Wait, Sonic, which of us is the bride? Sonic! SONIC, I NEED AN ANSWER!”

“Go on, Shadow, don’t you support gay rights?”

“Here, do you want some weed?” “I do not have lungs, so I cannot smoke weed. But I will take it anyway, and put it directly into my brain cells. Here we go.” *Omega puts the weed into his chest cavity* “Downloading Weed.exe” “HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT”

“I was actually meaning to ask you a question: Are you seeing anyone right now? Cause there’s no one sexier than myself.” *Memphis chuckles* “Why? Are you interested because, um, I was actually thinking you and I are pretty similar.” “Bruh, I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”

“If you die in the game, you die in real life, Shadow the Hedgehog.” “How did you know Sword Art Online was my favorite anime? You should have known that I had terrible taste.”

*I would put it in Omega’s confessions, but the bit is that he’s being ignored*

“Shadow, you are my greatest creation of all time from the battle royale, and now look at you.” “Wait, hold on. Are you my dad?” ... “Well, if you’re my daddy, it makes the last dub horrifying. Gawd.”

“Now I carry around my boyfriend wherever I desire.”

“I didn’t have fun at all. My eyeliner’s ruined, my arms hurt, I got kicked in the head. I hate everything, and I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“How many times are you gonna run? I’ve captured you 17 different times!” “I feel like it’s gonna be at least 18.” *long pause, with a faint wheeze, then hysterical laughter from the cast* “The caucasity of this bitch.”

“If someone hacked into my Fortnite account, I’m going to have a birth of cactuses out of my asshole.” “Currently being hacked.” *Eggman lets out a high pitched scream*

“Hm, the desert. Count how many sand is here, Omega. That’s your first mission.” *Omega slowly counts*

“Omega! Count the number of grains of sand in this room!” “Omega slowly counts again*

“You guys suck. Really, I can’t believe I used to date you. You used to be cool, dude.” “Have you met me? I was really cool.” “You’re sexy as fuck, but you’re also a dickhead.”

“Omega, count how many mouths he has!” “Okay.” *was about to count, but Shadow interrupts* “Yeah, exactly! You ain’t got no mouths, bitch!”

“Silver, you know what? You’re a twink. Imma go smoke some weed now.” “How long were you waiting to say that?” “The whole dub, baby!”

“Silver? I’m almost proud of you.” *gasp* “That’s the most proud of me you’ve ever been!”

“Elise. Guess what?” “What?” “I can never die!”

“Now I have all the colors of the rainbow, and I can unleash my true gay power!” *maniacally laughs* “Now everyone’s my boyfriend!”

“I think the power of friendship can bring him back. If we unite as friends.” “I. Will fucking. End you.”

“I remember this worked well when I was trying to summon Animal Crossing for Switch.”

“You guys wanna start a polyamorous marriage?” “Sure!”

“Didn’t you guys feel that? That breeze? It penetrated my heart.” “Sorry, that was me, I farted.”

#gawd I loved that dub so much #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic ‘06 #snapcube #real time fandub

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

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December 2: 1x26 Errand of Mercy

Errand of Mercy is truly a trip. I’m swiftly losing my ability to be coherent because I need to go to sleep but here are some attempts:

First of all this is, of course, a straight-up, pure, unfiltered Kirk/Spock episode with a tiny bit of unrequited Kor/Kirk on the side. Like, we’re not even going to pretend to find stuff for the rest of the crew today. I see you, Gene Coon.

This is the first Klingon ep. I just... the actual Klingon-centric episodes ARE good, but the Klingons in general are pretty boring and I legit don’t understand why they became the standard Star Trek villain. (DC Fontana apparently thought that it was because their make up was simpler v. the Romulans, acc. to Amazon trivia and....I’ll buy that.)

Is the “cultural scale” called the Richter cultural scale? I seem to recall another scale with the exact same name....

I get why there would be such a scale but they are dead wrong about where the Organians fall on it.

Anyway not to harp on this yet again but @ fanom this isn’t the military right?? Lol

Oh, no, it’s Code One! No idea what that means but the music tells me it’s a big deal and it’s bad!

“Curious how often you humans manage to obtain that which you do not want.” He’s talking about war but I can think of some other things that fall into this category.

I think it’s pretty funny that Kirk records his Captain’s logs in public.

CAPTAIN SULU.

“There’s a war happening, so Mr. Spock and I will just leave the ship... together.”

“You’ll get out of here, Sulu, and leave Spock and I... alone.”

“You’ll fall back to rendezvous with the rest of the Fleet in the Laurentian system.”

Why do these people show no interest in us beaming down into their village? Hmmm, I wonder. If the Organians really were what K and S think they are, beaming down in that way would be uh a bad idea.

Spock seems much less awkward at gesturing than Kirk does.

Finally, by the end of the season, they’ve figured out the context for the Enterprise: Starfleet, the Federation, etc.

I wish the Organians were our alien overlords and taylor.

So the Klingons are a military dictatorship.

Kirk finds them so frustrating. I feel like this ep falls into the genre “Kirk is frustrated by hippies.” All this generic peace talk and faultlessly chill attitudes are just not him.

“I’m a soldier, not a diplomat.” That’s why Spock likes him so much.

The Organians are trying to follow the Prime Directive but Kirk is making it SO HARD.

“Space vehicles.”

I know the Klingons are actually supposed to be in yellow face but you know what it looks like black face to me and I RE-ALLY wish they had not done that.

They look good in those Organian outfits. Love that they kept their command and science colors lol. I feel like this is the sort of outfit AOS Kirk wishes he had in that boring ass closet of his.

Mr. Spock does not look like an Organian.

I MUST know more about these “not uncommon” Vulcan merchants. “Dealing in kevas and trillium.”

KOR IS SO INTO KIRK. This flirting is the least subtle. “You’ll be taught to use your tongue.” “Where is your smile?” “You’re a ram among sheep.” “I need your obedience.” “You seem to be in command.” Is all of this supposed to sound sexual or...?

Right up there with “a stallion must first be broken.”

Whereas Kirk is so not into this. That expression says, “Don’t even think about talking about Spock’s tongue.”

The mind sifter is actually a crazy advanced sci fi machine and STID wanted us to think Klingons don’t have warp usdfsf go fuck yourself.

Kirk is so turned on by Spock’s mental strength.

Every spare moment of this ep is given over to K/S flirting. They legit act like an old married couple. “I thought you were going to fight that guy.” “I just might.” Or whatever.

I love that Kirk’s method of fighting is to literally launch his WHOLE BODY at enemies.

Whereas Spock’s there just running awkwardly in the background. He is Not coordinated friends.

Kirk’s speeches ARE admirable. He is lacking context here but in general if they WERE an oppressed people, this should be inspiring.

“For some reason, he feels as though he must destroy you.”

This Kor and Kirk scene... Kirk literally canNOT stop himself from flirting. His default smile is Charming. “Nothing...inconsequential [was destroyed] I hope...” Flirty smile, wink.

GO CLIMB A TREE I MEAN WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT.

We are the same species...tigers...hunters

Is this not the same cell they always use?

I feel an “and there was only one cell” fic coming on...

The Organians are actually kind of hilarious. They’ll basically let these rando aliens do whatever they want, as long as they do no violence. That’s it, that’s the one rule.”Your captors planned to do violence to you, and to that I said...naw.”

THIS is real Pacifism @ Commander Spock.

Kirk ready to go out in a blaze of fire for a bunch of annoying hippies like “I’m going to white savior you now, ungrateful Organians.”(I say this with love; I love him.)

Can you believe Kirk and Spock are about to die in an unwinnable fight of 2 against Lots of Klingons, and they’re using their last moments to FLIRT AGAIN?

Gene Coon loves writing dialogue in which Spock calculates statistics and Kirk is turned on.

Also can you BELIEVE he just pulls Spock along by the arm? Any excuse to touch him.

Okay the Organians are officially tired of your bullshit.

Too hot! Hot damn!

“We find interference in others’ affairs most disgusting.” Prime Directive! Like I said!

This is basically the plot of A Taste of Armageddon except in that ep Kirk was the Organians.

“People have the right to handle their own affairs.” Is he wrong though??

The Organians are like “okay, we all had our fun here, now get out. Seriously.”

Can you imagine how fucking weird it would be to just randomly see this alien dude materialize in the White House, or, like, Starfleet San Francisco HQ, or wherever the “home world” of the Federation is supposed to be? Just a little throwaway line in there.

By the end Kor is just straight up hilarious. He’s giving off real Ian McKellan in Vicious vibes when he says “I can handle them.”

“I guess that takes care of the war.” Yep! Very efficient!

The “it” in “It would have been glorious” is DEFINITELY not the war lol.

Good game, good game.

“I was furious with the Organians for stopping a war I didn’t want.” I’m sorry but could not THAT have been the plot of STID?

“Spock, your math was wrong the whole time.” And now Spock and Kirk can BOTH sulk lol.

Those were all of my liveblog thoughts and it’s late but.... I had so many additional thoughts on this episode... Like a lot more.

First, I love when humanoids turn out to not be humanoids, that’s one of the best things.

Second, I think this is a very gutsy episode to air at the time, and that it would still be a gutsy episode to air now. I feel like it’s one of the peanut gallery’s favorite criticisms of ST nowadays to say it’s “colonialist” but this ep makes it pretty clear it’s not--that’s the opposite of the lesson of this story.

To attempt to explain better: I completely and unironically love Kirk but I do recognize that like all 3 dimensional characters he has flaws. In this ep, I thought that while his speeches and general point of view and strategic plan were definitely right for situations a population is oppressed--that people do have the power to fight back against dictatorships, even when the odds are bad, and that it is worth it to have the courage to fight back against such oppression--he was ultimately shown to be wrong in this instance because he wasn’t actually coming into that situation. He didn’t understand as much as he thought he did. He thought he was going to be the savior here: taking control for peoples who didn't know better, saving them from oppression, and then gifting them with technology and advancement as he understood it. The Federation wouldn't have enslaved them, but the Federation did want to use them. But the Organians really truly didn't need help--the native people understood their own needs better than the outside people. That's the lesson I took from the episode. Your intentions can be good but if you're coming into a foreign situation looking to control it, without understanding the actual people involved, you’re not being a true friend or ally, and you're likely to do no more harm than good. Opposition to tyranny has to come from the source, the oppressed peoples themselves.

When he refers to “weak, innocent people” standing in the way of superpowers in the beginning--he’s not attempting to derogatory, but that is a pretty demeaning characterization.

I also thought it interesting that the Organians can take any form they want and put their society at any stage of "advancement" they want and they chose a basic agrarian aesthetic. Cottagecore rights.

Kirk really had a confirmation bias when it came to the Organians. He had an image of them--innocent, weak, oppressed--and he only took information that fit with that characterization, rather than listening to them and what they were saying.

My mom and I also discussed whether this was IC or OOC of Kirk. I’m of two minds, myself. I think Kirk at his best is much more open-minded than this. His core morality is good faith, peace, friendliness, and care for all life forms, and there are plenty of examples of this (Charlie X, Mud’s Women, and The Corbomite Maneuver all immediately come to mind.) But he does have a blind spot that I think comes up often enough to be canonically part of his character: if something is threatening or killing his crew, or his people more broadly (the Federation), then ALL he cares about is neutralizing the threat. Rare alien? Possible scientific discovery? Might not have the full details of the situation? Doesn’t matter. I’m thinking The Man Trap, The Devil in the Dark, Arena. He wants to protect aliens, but not if the alien is killing his crew. He wants to make overtures of friendship, but not if the new being has already been aggressive.

I mean like I said... a part of me is like "no he is better than this!" but another part is like... well he does have that 'soldier' side of him, he is intensely loyal to his people. The “evil” Kirk of The Enemy Within. I think he just sometimes gets these blinders in certain situations when he's just sure he's right, which is very human.

Also although he's between McCoy and Spock on the continuum of "an objective right thing exists for all people and in all situations and we should always follow that morality" and "morality itself is relative, we should be respectful of alien ways of living even when we don’t understand them" I think in general Kirk and the show is more like McCoy. There IS a right morality here. (I’m thinking of The Apple or even A Taste of Armageddon.)

I also maintain that to say in 1967 "the very personality trait of being warlike is a common denominator between enemies at war" is a dramatic statement.

My mother suggested that Kirk was “strangely appealing” in his desire to save the Organians, with or without their help, and I do agree... I think that’s the complexity of the episode. The overall thrust of the plot is that Kirk was wrong--he’s left embarrassed at the end. I stand by what I said above. And they certainly go out of their way to show that the Klingons and Federation have something in common--namely, as I said, their very capacity to wage war, and interest in waging war.

BUT, as much as I get the point that they have certain similarities with the Federation--and I think this concept of 'these war-worthy disagreements seem trivial to an advanced and neutral species' is interesting, and even more so in comparison with A Taste of Armageddon which, as I said, is this same scenario from the Organians' POV essentially--at the same time it's a bit irritating to hear the democratic Federation compared to the oppressive dictatorship of the Klingons. Like yeah, okay, none of them are light beings and they both wanted to destroy each other--point taken. But would the Federation park itself on a random planet and kill 200 people the first day? I think not. So in this sense Kirk IS right. The Klingons are an adversary worth fighting, just not over the Organians.

I don’t know what I would think of his position if the Organians were being harmed but were also just...actually sheep. Like I guess I would say "well they have to have a reason.” And in fact they did--their bodies cannot be harmed, so they really don't care if the Klingons pretend to harm them. But I just can't comprehend people being like really honestly okay with that level of oppression, as opposed to too scared or too beaten down or too brainwashed to fight it, which is different.

...And from there we went into a discussion of curative v transformative fandom and yet more on what’s wrong with AOS sdfasfjsaldf it’s past 1 am I can’t be stopped BUT I SHOULD BE STOPPED.

#star trek tos #the year 2020 #2020: fandom thoughts #2020: star trek #omg this is long

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

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Merry Christmas, @dearericbittle!

Merry Christmas and Happy whatever Holiday you may celebrate! Hugs!

Read on AO3

*****

Oh Shit!

Oh Shit. Stiles takes a moment to revel in the fact that this is his oh shit moment. Not, oh shit, a dead body in the woods. Not, oh shit, werewolves. Not, oh, shit, Derek wants me to cut off his arm. Not, oh shit, kanimas, or hunters, or any other of bevy of supernatural fuckery. No, Stiles’ oh shit moment is walking past an alleyway and having his Derek Hale spidey tingle go off. His oh shit moment is seeing Derek Freaking Hale crouched in an alley trying to coax a completely demonic looking cat with a massive gash across it’s forehead out from behind a dumpster. Stiles assumes so that Derek can help getting Demon!cat treated.

Stiles oh shit moment is oh shit, I’m in love with this asshole.

Stiles would like to think that he is fairly self-aware but this knocks the wind right out of him. His stomach does a full loop-the-loop and his heart does a quadruple staccato for long enough that Derek looks up from his save the cat mission to meet Stiles’ eyes.

Derek’s eyes widen in apparent surprise before a grin spreads across his face. This does not help Stiles’ heartbeat situation, especially when paired with his recent oh shit revelation. The warm welcome fades on Derek’s features, replaced with a look of concern. Derek reaches out his arm as if to steady Stiles, though the only stumbling that is going on right now is emotional. Stiles rallies himself, before Derek can touch him - who knows how his traitorous body would react to that!

He gesticulates just a little too wildly with his hands, and bumbles further into the alley a little too dramatically before managing to get some words out of his mouth.

“Whatcha doin’, Sourwolf? You gonna put that poor cat out it’s misery with your teeth?”

Stiles cringes. It’s been years since any “rip your throat out with my teeth” jokes have really been appropriate or funny.

Derek has yet to speak any words but his eyebrows scrunch together in question.

Stiles takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

“Nevermind, Sourwolf. Weird kind of day. You ever learn something that kind of shifts your whole world view? Did you know that squirrels are behind the majority of power outages in United States, Derek? Because, let me tell you, I did not.”

Derek shakes his head with what Stiles would define as fond eyebrows and proceeds to ignore everything that has come out Stiles’ mouth since “Whatcha doing, Sourwolf?”

“I tracked this little critter from near that bakery over on Main St. She’s bleeding and smells afraid. I’m having trouble getting her to trust me.” Derek’s voice stays soft and even while hes’s talking with Stiles. He’s crouched near the ground again and while his eyes are locked on Stiles’, his hand is reaching out towards the injured cat with feigned nonchalance.

Mirroring Derek’s tone of voice, Stiles asks, “What were you doing at the bakery?”

“Picking up cupcakes for Laura’s birthday dinner tonight.” He pauses, “You didn’t forget about that did you?”

Yes, yes Stiles had forgotten about that. In his defense, he’s been working nights the last week and days of the week are a nebulous thing when one is working the night shift.

Derek interprets his pause accurately. “Don’t worry about it. If you’re back on days, come over around 6 and we’ll feed you. Don’t worry about a present.”

Stiles is about to respond when he sees that cat has finally made her way to Derek’s outstretched hand and has deigned to be picked up.

Stiles thought that he’d gotten the whole loop-the-loop, crazy heart beat, oh shit moment stuff out of the way, that he’d managed to get a handle on it during his brief stint in the alley. But, no, he was a self-deluded idiot.

Seeing Derek cuddling a dirty, possibly mangy, blood soaked cat while whispering sweet nothings into her ear like she was a small child, disabused Stiles of the notion that he had any control over his bodily functions when it came to Derek Hale.

Stiles lived with his internal crisis for a few more seconds, until Derek stood up.

“I’m going to take this little beauty to see Scott. Will I see you tonight?”

Stiles mumbled what must have been some sort of affirmative because Derek said goodbye and left the alley.

When he got back to his baby, he collapsed in the front seat and banged his head against the steering wheel a couple times. He did not need this kind of complication in his life right now.

*******

Stiles can’t remember the last time he found himself banging frantically on Scott’s door. Probably high school sometime. With the distinct lack of big bads of the supernatural variety in the last few years, there hasn’t been much need.

Now, however, he finds himself banging on the door to the apartment Scott shares with Isaac, hoping the curly-haired menace is currently elsewhere. Don’t get him wrong, he’s square with Isaac now, friends even. It’s just, he’d like to have his mental breakdown in the presence of Scotty and Scotty and Scotty alone.

Thankfully, it appears Scott is home alone when Stiles walks in and collapses in flail of limbs on the couch.

“Scotty, my brother, my friend, my bro, my wolfy companion, the world as we know it is over.”

Completely unfazed by Stiles’ declaration, Scott sits on the coffee table across from Stiles and puts his hands on Stiles’ knees before speaking. With a gentle squeeze, Scott says, “The squirrels?”

“Yes, Scotty the squirrels. There’s an acronym. TSql. You know how I get about acronyms Tee-squill or The Squirrel Index.”

Stiles makes a concerted effort not to be sucked into an ADD fueled rant about squirrels and power outages before he can backtrack to what he came here to talk about.

“I’m in love with Derek Hale.”

This statement is greeted with complete silence. He risks a glance at Scott to see if maybe his declaration had somehow caused him to die of shock.

Nope, Scott is just looking at him with confused puppy dog eyes.

Finally Scott speaks. It’s slow, like he’s talking to a toddler or scared dog. “Are you okay?”

A noise Stiles can’t even begin to describe or categorize emerges from deep within his being. The gist of the noise was, “How can you ask me that? I don’t know. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. And when the hell did this happen?

Scott, blessed, wonderful, fantastic Scott seems to read his mind or possibly his noises. Maybe his noises are to Scott like Derek’s eyebrows are to Stiles. Aaand, that is a thought for another day.

“Well, it’s not the most terrible thing. I mean, Derek is a really good guy, You guys have been working together a lot lately what with working on the remodel plans for the house. Maybe it just happened naturally.” Scott says.

“Hmph. Naturally, you say.” Stiles pauses. Now Scotty is not always the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to analytics or plans or anything GPA related but Scotty has heart. When it comes to relationships and emotions, he’s usually right.

He things back to the first time they had to hit the road to visit some lumber distributor 3 hours away. The silence had started out extremely awkward. Stiles had fiddled with the radio and half-heartedly tried to comment on the passing landscape.

But then he had flicked the radio station through some kids station and Let It Go started playing. Somehow in the fraction of a second before Stiles was able to change the station again, Derek starts singing along. It’s under his breath, Stiles isn’t even sure if he realized he was doing it.

The ended up bonding over Disney leading ladies (not just princesses, thank you very much) for the next 2 hours. It seems like maybe that was the beginning of it all now that Stiles thinks about in a more calm state of mind. He should have figured it out when they gave each other nicknames. Derek is Elsa, Stiles is Mulan. And yes they actually call each other those names, unironically on occasion.

“…earth to Stiles….” He comes back to the present with Scott’s fingers snapping in his face.

“Sorry. You’re right.” Stiles feels himself smiling a little as his heart does a weird happy lurch in his chest. “Shoulda realized after our shared love of all things Disney.”

Scott nods, “And a relationship built over the years based on trust, respect, and a terrible sense of humor.”

“Okay, okay. So not a surprise and probably not as life altering and world changing as I may have first thought. But, still…” Stiles trails off. His oh shit moment blindsided him so much that he hadn’t actually thought about what came next. Does he declare his love? Or maybe just ask Derek out of a date? Or just pretend nothing has changed? Or die of embarrassment when Laura finds out that Derek said no? Or yes - he’s not sure which would cause Laura to dole out the worse punishment.

Scott, again with his uncanny ability to read Stiles’ mind, says, “You know you don’t have to decide what to do right away. The question to ask yourself is, what do you want?”

“I don’t know what I want. I hadn’t really thought beyond hoping Derek doesn’t think I’m dying of a heart condition every time he walks in the room.”

“I hear you, buddy. I’ve got to go to work. Think about it.”

Scott grabs his keys and his wallet and is about to head out the door before he turns back towards Stiles, “You coming tonight?”

Already lost in thought, Stiles replies distractedly, “Yeah. I’ll probably just crash here until then. Ride over together?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Stiles barely notices the door slam behind Scott. What does he want? He’d always imagined himself in a marriage with kids like his parents. Then werewolves happened and it was hard to imagine past the next week, much less into a future with kids. He’d had a few brief relationships during nursing school but no one he could picture a future with. Now, since he’d come into his spark and they’d managed to bind the nemeton? Not to mention, Laura back from the dead and taking her place as Alpha? Beacon Hills was stable. Nothing had come rampaging through and killing people in almost 3 years.

He hadn’t realized it, but he’d sort of been cruising through on auto-pilot just waiting for another shoe to drop the past few years. Not doing noher, just not really having any intentionality about anything either.

This oh shit thing, this being in love with Derek, maybe that made him think about a future. Stiles isn’t ready to picture being married with 2.5 pups yet. But, walking down the street, holding Derek’s hand for all the world to see, that he could imagine. Sharing curly fries at the diner or going to see a movie, cuddling together under a blanket on the porch swing - those thoughts made him feel warm all the way to his core. Just thinking about made his lips twitch towards a smile and his heart race in anticipation.

Ok, he now knows what he wants. Now, what to do about it, that is the million dollar question.

*******

He ends up bailing on Scotty and going over to the newly-remodeled (with his help!) Hale house early, hoping to catch Laura before everyone started piling in for her birthday dinner.

Luck must be on his side today because for the second time in one day the person he wants to see is home and alone.

He finds Laura in the garden out back singing to the vegetables, She claims it makes them taste better - and veggies can use all the help they can get in the taste department, so she sings.

She waltzes over to him and takes his hands to lead him a rousing dance through the tomatoes as she sings highly altered versions of the VeggieTales songs. Stiles knows better than to try and escape the song and dance so he bears up manfully until Laura ends her song in a fit a giggles.

“What brings you to see your favorite Alpha, today?” she asks when she finally catches her breath. She folds her legs under her gracefully sits in the grass as she asks her question.

Stiles sits beside her and takes a deep breath for courage.

“I’m here to give you your birthday present.”

A grin spreads across Laura’s face as she does gimme hands towards Stiles.

He swats her hands away playfully, before speaking, “Alas, not that kind of gift.” He smiles, “What is your absolute favorite thing to do in all the world?”

Stiles pauses for a moment but before Laura can respond, he adds, with a pointed look, “You actually favorite thing, not some sentimental drivel cause it’s your birthday.”

Laura blows a raspberry at him, “Fine. But only because you’re my favorite.” She wiggles her hands like she’s a puppeteer and cackles before saying, “Meddling”

Stiles gives an exaggerated nod. ��Thus my gift to you. First - information no one else but Scotty has”

Her eyes light up and her grin widens.

“Then, I’m going to ask for advice. Now, in the spirit of birthdays, I’m allowing you to meddle. I ask in return, good faith advice, not advice to make me do what you think would be funniest.’

Her grin doesn’t fade but a hint of seriousness comes into her eyes. Stiles can tell she understands even before she nods her head.

Stiles looks down at his hands. He had decided to come and talk to Laura but he hadn’t really figured out how he wanted to start. Well, he figured it worked for Scotty so he might as well just try ripping the bandaid off.

“I’m in love with your brother.”

Laura didn’t do anything so ungraceful as gape like a fish but the phrase, you could have knocked me over with a feather came to Stiles’ mind as he watched her reaction.

Stiles forges ahead before Laura has a chance to reply. “Our pack being what it is, we don’t stand on werework tradition very often. But I was wondering if there was a traditional way to court a werewolf? A wooing ritual or something?

Stiles can tell Laura is trying really hard not to laugh - not out of meanness but out of the sheer ridiculosity of what he is saying. Stiles waves her off.

“I know. I know. I’m the last person to care about tradition. But, you know, Derek has had the best track record. First Paige died, then Kate, and Jennifer. Braeden wasn’t so bad but it also wasn’t so serious. I want Derek to know I’m serious and that he has a choice. If there were a traditional way of doing that, then that is what I’m looking for. If not, I’ll figure something else out.”

Laura scoots around so they are facing each other and practically mirrors Scott from earlier when she puts her hands on his knees before speaking.

“I don’t know if Derek feels that way about you, I don’t know what his reaction to you will be. But I do know this. He could never confuse your intentions with any of those who came before.” She sat up and put her hands back in her lap before continuing. “There is not a wolfy-wooing ritual per se. At least, not one that I am aware. But there is this nursery rhyme or poem kind of thing that our mom used to say to use about the one we would eventually fall in love with. Let me think for a second and try to remember it.”

Her brow scrunched slightly and he eyes drifted to the left as she thought, Okay. It went something like this: Each wolf is whole in itself but there are those who are created to walk beside in perfect harmony. A mate to write their name on your heart will make you safe by watching your back, give you peace by travelling beside you, bring you joy by smiling back at you, and join hands with you so will never be alone on your life journey. You know Derek has the Triskelion tattoo on his back and that can mean a lot of things. But he also has a Triquetra tattoo on his hip. It comes from this verse. The three points are behind, beside and in front of, joined together in the center, together forever. It’s not a ritual or anything but it might help you figure out what you want to do.”

The whole time Laura had been talking, Stiles paid rapt attention. He wasn’t crying by the end but he was certainly moist in the region around his eyes. He had an idea.

But like all great ideas, life interrupted.

******

It was about halfway through Laura’s birthday dinner. Everyone had had one plate of food and most of the wolves had had a second plate but no one had even mentioned cake yet.

Stiles noticed the cat first. He nudged Derek. “You didn’t tell me you brought that cat home.”

Derek turned towards Stiles, confusion clear on his face, fork with potatoes stabbed through on it hanging in the air halfway to his mouth, “I didn’t”

Stiles chuckles slightly and nods in the direction of the cat which is now in the doorway to the dining room. “Then she followed you home.

By this time, the rest of the table has quieted and turned to see what Stiles and Derek are looking at. The cat continues walking towards but with each step, she gets larger and larger until when she reaches the table it is but a small step to climb up on the table and continue walking down it’s center.

The cat, now roughly the size of a miniature pony, walks past Lydia and Jackson, then Erica and Boyd, and Scott and Isaac, and completely ignoring Laura and Stiles before she stops in front of Derek. All of the sudden there is a naked lady instead of cat sitting in the middle of the dining room table.

“Kind one,” she hisses, “You have saved my life this day. You have shown your worth. In the name of Samaoth, High Priestess of the Sable Court of Fae, you are granted a boon.” She waved her arm in a graceful arc around her head somehow managing not to have any other part of her body move a single muscle. You’d think the naked part would be the most eye catching part of the naked fae sitting on the table but it was more like a statue that didn’t really know how a human body worked. It looked right - sort of. But the more you looked, the more wrong you felt on the inside.

When her arm was in front of Derek one, it held a plain manila folder in it’s hand. Derek was just staring.

With a slight hint of impatience, Samaoth hissed, “Take it now mortal. Do as it says and you will be granted your heart’s greatest desire.”

Derek reached out and took the folder. Before his fingers had even fully closed on the edges, Samaoth had vanished into thin air. He didn’t quite have hold of it yet and the folder dropped to the table, relieving itself of a single piece of paper.

It was a simple piece of printer paper. Across the top it read, “Booking Confirmation for Sable Court Representative to the Greater Northwest Region Supernatural Symposium: Derek Hale, plus one.”

After about 30 seconds of stunned silence, every single person at the table began speaking at once.

*******

An indeterminate amount of time later, Laura’s alpha roar breaks through the cacophony of shouts coming from the rest of the pack.

Once everyone is quiet, Laura turns to Derek, who is still sitting in silence and staring at the innocuous looking piece of paper on the table in front of him.

Laura asks him, with slightly forced calm, “Der-bear, what’s going on?”

Derek opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. Stiles doesn’t even recognize Derek’s current eyebrow configuration.

Derek swallows and tries again. “Well,” he pauses, “there was this cat and it was bleeding and I took it to Scott to get fixed up.” He looks helplessly around the table. “It was a normal cat.”

The focused attention of the whole pack swings around to Scott. He shrugs sheepishly. “It was a normal cat. I gave her stitches and left her in the kennel overnight. Though, it seems like she got out.”

Laura rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay. Normal cat. Got it. Except your normal cat is apparently the High Priestess of the Sable Court of the Fae. Derek, what does the paper say?”

Derek looks at Laura and startles like he hadn’t thought to read past the bold heading. His eyes rapidly scan the paper. “Apparently the Greater Northwest Regional Supernatural Symposium is being hosted in Seattle this year at the Fairmont Olympic Hotel, ummm, next weekend. Registration starts on Thursday afternoon at 4 PM. It has a confirmation number, address, phone number and whatnot and a link to app download and password to download the app for the symposium.”

Stiles decides that now is the time to speak up, “For those of us who are new to werewolfly culture, what exactly is the Greater Northwest Region Supernatural Symposium?

Laura sighs before she answers. “It’s going to be a shitshow, that’s what. Wolves aren’t usually invited. We’re too volatile or something. It is mainly run by the fae and other ‘more evolved’ supernatural beings. The get together to schmooze, make treaties and listen to presentations on things like ‘Kobolds and cleaning: an analysis of practices through the ages’ or ‘Pixies in the modern age: pesky or pragmatic?’ It’s pretty much a chance for the hoity toity of supernatural society to get together and bond over how superior they are to the rest of us. For a wolf to show up, and not even an alpha will be an insult to every single being there.”

Stiles feels the need to pipe in again, “Great. So this is the gist. Derek saves this cat’s life, he gets a boon - supposedly his greatest desire but only if he goes to this conference of supernatural one percenters. This is ridiculous!” Turning to Lydia, he continues, “Is this even possible? I thought we had a big do not touch sign over us after our last dealings with the fae.”

Lydia responds quickly, “You’re right. But, Samaoth didn’t seek us out. Derek sought her out - albeit unknowingly - so that may cancel the binding. Let me see if Illirial is available speak with us.

Lydia’s eyes turn milky white as she chants under her breath. The wolves can probably tell what she is saying but to Stiles it just seems like a low susurrus. After a few moments her eyes return to normal and she holds out her hand.

A moment after that a small hologram - Princess Leia style - appears in her hand. Stiles hates dealing with the fae. It makes his brain hurt. But they all owe Illirial and he seems to make an effort not to be purposefully obtuse when speaking with them.

His voice is slightly tinny when he speaks, “Greetings Hale Pack. It is a pleasure to be with you once more. For what reason have you requested my presence this day?”

As Lydia was the best at untangling the vagueries of fae speech, Lydia replied. “We call upon you as a friend, with no obligation attached, to ask of you some information. Under what circumstances might this be amenable to you?”

Illirial appeared to think about it for a moment. “As friends, it would be in my heart to give this information, if I am able. Perhaps one day I may come to you, with no obligation, for the same, until such time as we have shared information of equal value. If I am unable to share what you ask, we will speak of this no more and part again as friends.”

Lydia nodded and continued, “This is generous of you, Illirial. You confirm yourself as friend of the Hale Pack. What can you tell us of the Sable Court of the Fae? Specifically of the priestly order attached to it.”

“As you know, generally, the fae owe allegiance to either the Seelie or Unseelie court. This is balance, as it should be. You mortals may believe one to be good and one to be evil but we fae do not ascribe to that kind of moral judgment. Seelie and Unseelie merely are. WIthout the balance of the courts, the world would fall apart, in a most literal sense. But we fae, while bound to our courts, do have free will. In times when balance is threatened, the fae turn to the Sable Court. They are judge; they are arbiter; and if need be, they are executioner. The high priestess has final say in all decisions made by the Sable Court.”

When it was apparent the Illirial was done speaking, Lydia spoke again, “If the Sable Court High Priestess were to offer a boon, with an obligation attached, what should one take into consideration while deciding on a course of action?”

Illirial responded immediately, in almost a panic, “Only the recipient of the boon can make that choice. Only five times in our history has the Sable court been known to offer a boon. Each time the obligation was how the boon was revealed. While danger might abide within fulfilling the obligation, the Sable Fae are straightforward. There will be no hidden knives or truthful deceits as you might find with some of the other fae.”

Lydia nodded again and replied, “Illirial, the Hale Pack thanks you for the information you have shared so openly, which we acknowledge is beyond your natural state. That which we do not speak of will remain private and you may feel free to call upon the Hale Pack for an exchange of information equal in value to what you have offered us. Go with peace and the blessing of Mother Moon.”

Illirial bowed and vanished from Lydia’s hand.

Stiles turned back towards Laura to see how she would respond to this information and saw his Alpha was white as a sheet. All the blood had drained from her face and she looked like she was about to fall over.

“That’s who did it?” she asked.

Stiles startled. He didn’t know how but he’d forgotten that Laura had never met Illirial before.

Derek grabbed her hand. “Yes.” He looked like he wanted to fight the binding for a moment but then his features calmed. “You know we can’t even speak of how it happened. But yes, it was Illirial who brought you back from the dead.“

Stiles suddenly realized that it was probably the Sable Court that had dictated the binding of secrecy around that whole fiasco. Even now, it was hard to think back to that couple of months when the fae had descended on Beacon Hills. If he tried to pin down the memory too specifically, it would slide away like trying to hold fast to a thousand strings being pulled in all different directions.

Laura seemed to come back to herself. “I know Der-bear. I understand.

Derek stood up. “Well, I guess I better get packed to go to Seattle.”

Stiles made the decision in an instant and stood up as well. “Me too.”

“What?” Derek replied.

Stiles picked up the sheet of paper and waved in front of his face. “Plus one, Sourwolf. I’m going with you.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but was cut off when Laura said, “Good idea. I’ll book you both flights up for Thursday morning.”

*******

2 Days Later (aka Thursday)

Stiles settled into the first class seat Laura had sprung for with a wiggle of his hips. He turned towards Derek, still grinning, when he heard him groan under his breath.

“None of your groaning or sighing is going to ruin this for me, Derek. First class! I’m going to get a hot towel. And free snacks. This is awesome.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to spoil your fun. It is pretty awesome.” Derek smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes - or his eyebrows.

Stiles turned serious for a moment, “Hey. Sourwolf, I know you don’t like not knowing what’s going to happen but your heart’s desire, that’s gotta be exciting to think about.”

Derek gave another half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

“What do you think it will be?”

“I don’t know. I do kind of wonder about whether it’ll be something that I go, ‘oh, of course’ or if it will be something I didn’t even know I wanted. Or if Samaoth can somehow look into the future and know what domino to knock over now that will result in a chain reaction that will make me happy down the road.”

“Whoa there, Derek. That is a lot hamsters running around on their wheels inside your head.” Stiles pauses. “Seriously, though, would any of those options be a bad thing?”

Derek’s eyebrows morph into thinking position #2 and he is silent for a while.

This time, the smile on Derek’s face is genuine. “You’re right. We go to this conference. We come home and then I get my heart’s desire.”

Stiles heart does a little lurch at that. Right now, he knows what his heart’s desire would be: to build a life with Derek. He hopes that spending this weekend alone with Derek will help him think about what Laura said and decide how he wants to woo Derek.

Because Derek deserves ALL the wooing.

*******

Stiles flops on the bed as soon as they get to their hotel room. He blows out a frustrated breath and closes his eyes. Landing in Seattle had started off on the right foot. They had both fallen asleep on the flight and Stiles woke up with Derek’s head resting on his shoulder and their hands pressed together on the arm rest. However, it had all gone downhill from there.

Getting their luggage, getting out of the airport, and the ride to the hotel don’t bear mentioning beyond the word torture. But, then they had finally gotten to the check in desk and the finish line was in sight when Stiles tuned into what the customer service representative was saying:

“Mr. Hale and Mr. Stilinski, welcome to the Fairmont Olympic Hotel. I hope you enjoy your stay in Seattle. You have been booked in one of our honeymoon suites. This includes a complimentary bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. Please, just let room service know when you would like them delivered. Here is your room key.”

Derek quickly responded, “We were booked in the what?”

“The honeymoon suite, sir.”

“We are just here for a conference, A room with 2 doubles or 2 queens will be sufficient.”

“Sir, we are completely booked. There are no other rooms available.”

Derek looks like he wants to argue with her but instead puts on his big boy pants and says, “Fine. But, you can keep the champagne. I don’t drink.”

The woman’s smile brightens. “Thank you, sir. And please accept this voucher for a free spa treatment instead of the champagne.”

Derek stares at the woman until Stiles reaches out and takes the voucher. “Thank you ma’am. Have a wonderful day.”

So, the bed Stiles has just collapsed on is the bed he is going to have sleep in tonight. With Derek.

Now, apart from the initial freak out, Stiles thinks he’s dealt with his oh shit moment like a completely mature adult. He listened to his heart, decided what he really wanted from the situation and is setting about figuring out how to get there while respecting the other person involved. But none of that mature adult thinking included having to share a bed with Derek Hale.

Also, until now he had somehow managed to not really think about the physical ramifications of being in love with Derek Hale. He didn’t think that Derek was asexual so that meant that somewhere in the future, if his wooing was successful, their would be sex. Sex with Derek.

His face burns just thinking about it. But also, his pants parts are also thinking about getting excited as well. Pants parts… Stiles groans internally. He’s not twelve anymore. If he can’t say the words he’s not mature enough to do the deed.

His brain spirals a bit as it starts to list all the names of things he needs to be mature enough to say. Penis. DIck. Cock. Asshole. Balls.

He is interrupted in his reverie by Derek clearing his throat. “I don’t know what you are thinking about right now but could you please not smell up the bed we both have to sleep in tonight with those thoughts?”

Stiles almost chokes on his own tongue. “Ye…YEa..yes. Sure thing. Sorry.”

He stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.” He groans. “That just made it worse, didn’t it.”

Derek chuckles. “Yes, it did. Don’t worry about it. I’m just teasing. I am not sure that there is any smell you could make that could be worse than the airplane.”

Stiles felt his face heat up for a different reason. He knows Derek is just trying to make him feel better, but he thinks he maybe just gave Stiles a compliment or said that he doesn’t mind what Stiles smells like when he is aroused.

Stiles shuts down that train of thought immediately and goes to throw some water on his face in the bathroom. When he comes out Derek is sitting on the bed like he was waiting for Stiles.

Stiles jitters nervously around the room, touching everything and generally berating himself for not being able to act normal.

FInally, Derek speaks. “So, I know we don’t spend a lot of time with supernatural beings outside of our pack. There are some rules of politeness that it would probably be good for you to know.”

Derek talks for awhile and Stiles tries to remember all the protocol that Derek is telling him.

“Finally, with me not being the Alpha and you being a human spark, we will need to ramp up the appearance of our pack bond.”

“What exactly does that mean, Sourwolf?”

Derek stands up and walks towards Stiles. He stops just inside a normal human’s comfort zone for being a near another person. Derek looks Stiles in the eyes. They stand there for about 5 seconds that felt like 5 years before Derek reaches out and cups Stiles face, rubbing his thumbs over the apples of Stiles’ cheeks. He raises his eyebrows like he’s asking permission.

Stiles has no idea what is going on here but he really doesn’t care. Derek can do what the hell he wants to right now. Stiles nods.

Derek steps closer and leans towards Stiles, coming even closer.

Stiles closes his eyes. His heart is rabbiting out of his chest. He opens his mouth to gulp in air as he thinks he might be drowning. Surely Derek can tells what kind of effect he’s having.

Just when Stiles thought he might die of anticipation, Derek ducks his head and rubs his cheek on Stiles’ neck and shoulder.

Stiles lets out a high pitched squeaking noise. He realizes that Derek meant pack scenting. They needed to touch each other so the pack bond was more apparent in how they smelled.

Derek is still rubbing his face on Stiles’ neck when Stiles breaks. He lets out a almost hysterical sounding burst of laughter and sways backwards away from Derek.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

Stiles wheezes. “Yeah, of course. Scent marking. Pack bonds. Got it. That’s all.”

He knows he’s not making any sense but oh shit Stiles wants to climb Derek like a tree. I mean, he always know Derek was attractive but this kind of visceral physical reaction is a whole new thing.

Derek takes a step forward, confused eyebrows returning, and asks again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Stiles begins to nod like a bobble head dolls, preparing to reassure Derek that he is indeed fine. Instead, he says. “No, nowhere near fine.”

Concern painting Derek’s features, he starts to talk but Stiles cuts him off.

“Scent marking makes sense now that you say it outloud. But seriously, before you saying it, it felt like you were going to do something completely different. I mean I know it makes no sense but I’ve been kissed a few times and I know what it feels like coming on. I mean I know that doesn’t make any sense but I don’t think my heart could take thinking you were going to kiss me and then you don’t but you’re still rubbing all up on me.”

Stiles knows he’s rambling. It’s the ADD and the stress but he can’t seem to stop himself. Finally Derek just slaps a hand over his mouth, forcing Stiels to stop.

Derek looks almost bewildered. “Is kissing me something you want?”

It’s Stiles turn to feel bewildered. “How do you just ask that? That’s a crazy kind of a question.”

Derek raises one eyebrow and says, “Stiles, answer the question. I’m not going to make fun of you.”

Stiles takes a deep breath and looks up at Derek, feeling shy for the first time in a very long time. His voice comes out like a whisper. “Yes. I think I do. I mean it’s a pretty recent development and I had planned on wooing you before i told you, but since you ask, yes, kissing you is something that I want.”

Derek is silent for awhile before Stiles eventually begs, “Come on, Sourwolf, put me out of my misery here, one way or the other.”

Derek looks up again, his face vulnerable in a way that Stiles isn’t sure he’s ever seen. “I’ll be honest, I’ve never thought of you in that way before. But now that you bring it up, it seems like maybe it could be worth thinking about. I don’t want to kiss you on an experient, with us wanting different things out of it. Maybe we could talk more about it when we get home and give me a little while to think it over.”

Stiles isn’t really sure how to process what Derek just said beyond it wasn’t no. Stiles smiles, a little hope seeping into his own thoughts on the matter.

“Yeah, Derek. That sounds good.” He looks helplessly around, not really sure how to start a different conversation and not really having any thing else to do in the hotel room.

Derek saves the day. “Look, they have registrations times in the morning as well as tonight. What do you say we go and see a movie tonight instead of sticking around the hotel? We can grab some dinner too.”

“Yeah. That sounds great.” This is not a date, Stiles repeats to himself in his mind over and over again. But at the same time, he can’t keep the goofy smile off his face..

*******

The not-a-date was amazing. Somehow, they had both been able to just have fun together and not get stuck dwelling on to kiss or not to kiss question. Stiles was floating on cloud 9 until they got back to the hotel room. More specifically, the bed.

Stiles and Derek have both changed into sweatpants and t-shirts and are standing on opposite sides of the bed, just staring at it and not getting in.

Finally, Stiles looks up and tries to school his face into a serious demeanor. “Now look here. I have already admitted to where I stand on the whole kissing question. I am a virile young specimen of a human being. This” he says pointing a finger around the bed, “is a no judgment zone. You ignore any bodily functions that may happen in this bed, because of how I feel about you.”

By the end of his speech, Stiles’ cheeks are burning and he doesn’t know why but he is having trouble catching his breath.

Derek blinks like an owl. “Feelings?” He’s sounding a little breathless himself.

Stiles shakes his head in frustration. “Yes, Derek. Feelings! I thought we already had this conversation.”

Derek shakes his head. “No. We had a conversation about kissing. Not a conversation about feelings.’

“Yeah, well, for me there the same damn conversation. The feelings came first. Then the wanting to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

“What, oh?” Stiles bites out, beginning to feel annoyed. And embarrassed.

“In my experience, that’s not always the case. Not with Kate or Jennifer or Braeden.” Derek replies in a very small voice.

Stiles annoyance falls away and his heart breaks, just a little. Stiles walks around the bed so he can at least be near to Derek.

“I know we haven’t worked the whole feelings/kissing thing out but can I give you a hug?”

Derek doesn’t even reply. He just reaches for Stiles and wraps his arms around his entire torso. Derek practically collapses into the hug and Stiles does his best to channel everything he learned about hugs from his Mom and Mama McCall into this hug.

Stiles thinks this might be the longest he’s ever hugged anyone for and he doesn’t ever want to let Derek go. But eventually their arms naturally drop. Stiles puts his hands on Derek’s cheeks, and looks him in the eyes.

“Listen to me, Derek. I love being your friend. I love being your packmate. I love getting to spend time with you. Me being in love with you won’t change any of that if you don’t want it to. It’s like an A and an A+. Both are awesome. One is just a slight improvement over the other. I don’t want the A+ unless it is going to make you happy too. I’m here for the A no matter what you decide about kissing and feelings.”

Derek closed his eyes before he started speaking. Stiles can feel each movement of his jaw as he chokes out a response. “The last time I tried kissing and feelings together, I ended up having to kill her. I don’t know how to do this like a normal person.”

“Derek, look at me. Do you think that I know how to do this like a normal person either? There is no normal. There is just whatever we decide we want.”

In a barely audible whisper, Derek says, “I think I’d like to try this with you. But slowly. Definitely feelings, but maybe no more than kissing for awhile.?”

Stiles can’t imagine what the sheer joy that sweeps through him must smell like to Derek but Derek sniffs the air and a grin breaks out across his whole face, eyebrows and all.

Stiles is practically vibrating in place. “Can I kiss you now?””

Instead of answering, Derek leans forward and gently presses their lips together. Despite how chaste the kiss is, Stiles feels it to the very core of him. His heart is doing things he couldn’t eve describe and his knees are about to buckle.

Without thought, his arms wrap around Derek’s neck and his hips press forward. He stops himself short of grinding because that would not be taking it slow. But, as it is, he and Derek are touch from head to toe, wrapped in each other’s arms and more deliriously happy than Stiles knew was possible.

Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair as he pulled away from their kiss. Stiles didn’t have scent to go by but he thought that Derek was just as happy as he was.

“Alright, lover boy or lover wolf? Is that a thing. It should be. Lover-wolf, let’s go to bed.”

“Not a thing. Don’t make it a thing.”

“Too late, lover-wolf, its a thing.”

They both climb into bed and Stiles stalls out for a minute but then he reaches out and takes Derek’s hand. By the time they fell asleep, Stiles had claimed the position of big spoon and had Derek wrapped in his arms.

*******

The first thing Stiles notices when he wakes up is that he is wrapped around a furnace. Then he realizes that furnace is Derek and his brain shorts out in pure bliss for a moment. But as soon as the warm fuzzy endorphins finish blazing through his system, he begins to take note of other things.

The muscles of Derek’s arm under his head. The roughness of the hair on Derek’s chest, where Stiles’ arm is rested. The tangle their legs have made. The insistent pressure of Derek’s hip bone against his rapidly hardening cock.

Stiles moans almost unconsciously as his hips jerk forward a few times, chasing that beautiful, wonderful pressure. It takes more willpower than he knew he possessed to stop and cant his hips away from Derek. Rubbing off on Derek after sharing one chaste kiss was not taking it slow.

Instead, Stiles scritched his fingers over Derek’s chest where they lay and was about to wake Derek up. Before he can get ‘good morning’ out of his mouth, Derek is on the other side of the room, wolfed out and panting like he just ran a marathon. His eyes are wide and wild - almost like he is somewhere else and not here in a hotel room with Stiles.

Stiles sits up in bed, not sure what just happened. “Derek, what’s wrong?” he asks, voice taut with false calm. He has to stay calm.

Derek hunches further into the corner of the room when Stiles speaks and doesn’t respond.

“Ok, Sourwolf. I’m going to get out of bed slowly. I’m not going to hurt you. You are safe.” Stiles keeps talking, low and calm, while he slowly walks towards Derek with his hands out.

Stiles stops just inside arm’s reach of Derek. He curses himself for his stupidity in what he is about to do. He takes one step closer to the frightened, wolfed out werewolf, not really sure what his next step will be. But when Stiles gets closer to Derek, Derek sniffs the air and that seems to break through whatever Derek had been experiencing.

He manages to pull back the shift and lurches forward into Stiles’ arms, pulling him into a desperate hug and burying his nose in Stiles’ neck. He is pulling in deep breaths of Stiles’ scent and trembling in his arms.

Stiles is at a loss but does his best to hold the man he loves through whatever’s happening right now. He ends up sliding to the floor so he hold Derek better as he is rocking back and forth.

He seems to be inhaling huge breaths of Stiles scent. When Stiles focuses enough to tell what Derek is muttering, he hears, “It’s Stiles. Stiles not Kate. Stiles is safe” over and over again.

Once he picks up what Derek is saying, Stiles heart breaks even more. He leans back a bit and tries to get Derek to look at him, “Sourwolf, your’re safe. I promise.”

Derek won’t be moved. “Need to smell you. Eyes can lie. Need to smell you.”

“Okay, Okay. At least come to the be…couch with me. We can be more comfortable.”

Derek shook the whole way to the couch and immediately curled back into Stiles’ space when they sat down.

It was almost an hour before Derek calmed himself down enough to unwind from Stiles. Stiles arms and legs were so cramped and he had to pee so bad he thought he might actually wet himself. He’d kind of thought they might have gotten through a few dates and make-outs before he was hit over the head with the ‘worse’ part of ‘for better or worse’. Not that he was thinking about marriage already. Oh shit! He might be thinking of marriage already.

“You gonna be okay if I go pee real fast?”

A ghost of a smile flashed across Derek’s face. “Yeah, I think so.” He paused, “But hurry, please”

Stiles peed the fasted he’d ever peed and went back to sit beside Derek.

He gets a good look for the first time since they moved to the couch. Derek’s face is pale and drawn with tear tracks streaking his cheeks. His eyes look hollowed out and exhausted. His whole body is hunched over like he is ashamed.

Stiles gently lifts Derek’s chin so he can look him in the face. “What happened?”

Derek opens his mouth like he was going to talk but instead ends up shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you deal with that. You didn’t sign up for that. Just sorry.”

“Hey, hey. No. Before anything else, I am your friend and packmate. Which means I absolutely signed up for keeping you safe when you are terrified. I absolutely signed up for being there when you need me. The kissing and feelings has nothing to do with that. And I did sign up for that.”

Stiles thinks he must look strange because the way Derek is looking at him is like he’s never seen Stiles before. It almost makes Stiles embarrassed for how fierce he just was. But then Derek whispers, “Thank you.” And, that’s it. Stiles knows he said the right thing.

“Anytime. Though I do hope not all the time.” Stiles takes a moment to choose his next words very carefully. “If you don’t quite know what happened or don’t feel ready to talk about it yet, that’s okay. I’m not going to press. But I think you should consider talking about it. I mean, maybe with a professional. I’m always happy to listen but that was a really big reaction to I don’t know what. I am here for you and I will always be here for you. However, a professional might make it so you get better instead of just having support when it’s bad. I don’t know if I said that right or not.”

Derek’s voice is back up to normal volume. “You said it just fine. Maybe. I’d have to find someone supernatural. Maybe Laura knows of someone.”

Stiles is full to bursting with pride when Derek says that. The pink on Derek’s cheeks tells Stiles, he can probably smell that on him. He replies to Derek’s cheeks instead of his eyebrows like usual, “Yes, I’m proud of you. Get used to it, Sourwolf.”

*******

It takes awhile for them to finally get around to taking showers and getting dressed. By the time they are ready to leave the room, there is only about 15 minutes left of registration. Stiles is about to open the door when Derek grabs his hand and stops him.

He fumbles for his words for a moment before his eyebrows become determined and he looks up at Stiles. “So you know rank and protocol can be very important to supernatural beings.”

Stiles nods.

“As an unmated wolf representing a pretty powerful group, I will be considered fair game.”

“Fair game for what?”

“Wolves have a lot of behaviors surrounding smell because that sense is enhanced for us. For the fae, touch is very powerful. They can read auras, map bindings and relationships, heal or harm based on intention, enact treaties, and so much more. They understand enough about wolves to know not to touch a mated wolf without permission but an unmated wolf is fair game.”

“What are you saying? Cause it almost feels like you want me to be your mate so you don’t get touched too much while we’re here. And that feels like you are manipulating me because you know about my feelings. I don’t think you would do that so please tell me what you are saying.”

Derek looks horrified as he talks again, “No. Nonono. I just meant, maybe we could pretend to be mated. Maybe engaged to be mated or something. We wouldn’t smell right to other wolves but for the fae, they might believe if we were convincing enough.”

“I’m not sure that would be much better, Sourwolf. I don’t want you kissing me and touching me if you don’t mean it. That would be too heartbreaking for me.”

“What if we just didn’t say anything but did some of the stuff we’ve already done, just in public - holding hands, hugging, ummm, small kisses.”

Stiles thought about it for a moment. “Just make a promise. Don’t do anything with or to me that you don’t have feelings behind. I mean maybe you wouldn’t have thought to do it at just that moment except us being here but in general, it would make you happy to do it with me…”

Stiles huffs out a breath. That didn’t even make sense to him and he said it.

Derek takes a step closer. “I’d be happy to hold your hand all the time. Being surrounded by your scent is amazing. It’s like no matter what else is going on, no matter how crazy or dangerous things are, I can find peace if you are nearby.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yean, okay.”

Stiles turns to the door of their hotel room again, about to open it. And, again, Derek stops him. “Umm, before we go down there, can we do one more thing?”

Stiles tilts his head in inquiry.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Stiles’ breath whooshes out of him and his heart beats in that quadruple staccato as he nods his head.

Derek crowds him against the wall, boxing Stiles in with his whole body before he leans in and presses their lips together.

Stiles doesn’t know and really doesn’t care what to do with his hands. They flail up and land somewhere on Derek’s back as his legs give a wobble under him. Oh God. This is like a perfect moment.

Then, Derek opens his mouth just a bit and lets his tongue lick at Stiles’ lips. That sends a shock right to Stiles’ heart and feels warm through his whole body. Another lick and shock lands a bit lower. There’s nowhere for him to move that doesn’t involve rubbing against Derek.

This time, Derek rubs back and Stiles thinks he might die of sheer pleasure. He opens his mouth, letting his tongue meet Derek’s. At Stiles’ acquiescence, Derek growls, eyes flashing blue, and grabs Stiles’ hands. He slams them against the wall above their heads and presses hard into Stiles’ whole body.

Stiles whines and tries to reciprocate as much as possible but Derek has complete control over him. And, oh shit, does that work for him. HIs brain is rapidly dribbling out his ears, being replaced entirely by the pleasure of Derek pinning him to a wall.

All of the sudden Derek lets out a frustrated groan and Stiles’ front is freezing. Derek takes a step back, chest heaving and eyes blown wide. Stiles is sure he looks about the same. Maybe with a touch more confusion.

“Wha…why did you stop?”

Derek practically growls out his answer and his eyes flash blue again, “The first time I make you come, it won’t be pinned against the wall in a hotel room that smells like about 10 other people.”

Stiles thinks if he were five years younger, hearing Derek say that might have made him come untouched, standing against a wall in a hotel room. As is, he presses a hand against the base of his cock and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before grunting, “If you don’t want me to come, then you should probably stop talking about it.”

Derek is flushed and beautiful and his eyebrows have gone a bit sheepish. “Yeah, for me too.”

Stiles puts his full weight back on his own feet (and not the wall, or Derek) and looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Aannd, we now have 5 minutes left to register.”

“Then we better hurry.” Derek smirks at Stiles and grabs his hand to drag him to the elevator.

*******

The rest of the weekend was amazing. It turns out being the Sable Court representative meant they had to show up at a few seminars, make sure everyone knew they were there to represent the Sable Court, and attend the Banquet on Saturday night. No one made treaties with the Sable Court so there was very little politicking to be done. Every so often folks with grievances would try to get Derek to settle it between. Derek made a point of never giving a direct answer but he did keep note of a few situations that had the potential to blow up and made sure to pass that information on to whatever being was the equivalent of their Alpha.

Mostly, Stiles and Derek got to wander around a beautiful hotel, holding hands and reveling in just being together. The banquet had been the highlight of the weekend. Derek grumbled the whole time that he didn’t want to dance. But Stiles eventually convinced him, leading Derek onto the dance floor with a mischievous grin on his face.

Stiles proceeded to do the Macarena to every song that the string quartet played. Derek’s sour face barely lasted one song, by the end of the second song, he was laughing, By the end of the third song, he even had some of the other attendees who were around his age trying to get the pace of the Macarena right to match Liszt’s Angelus.

Derek pulled him close, laughter still in his voice, “You are ridiculous. Now you’ve got the whole place doing it, can we go?”

Stiles felt a pang of disappointment. He’d thought they were having fun. He quirks a half-smile at Derek. “Not having fun?”

Derek pressed a hard, quick kiss to Stiles’ lips. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? When you laugh, the joy in your scent is all I can focus on. I just want to slam you against some vertical surface and kiss you until it is as much a part of my scent as it is yours..”

Stiles’ eyes widened and yep, his whole body was on board with that idea. His voice cracked when tried to talk. Finally, he got out, “Yeah, that sounds like more fun than this. Let’s go do that.”

Later that night, after a good amount of very awesome making out, followed by two long, separate showers that would have taken all the hot water had they not been in a hotel, Stiles and Derek found themselves lying in bed together again. The heat from earlier in the evening has been banked and they are cuddled together, completely boneless.

Stiles is almost afraid to break the perfect atmosphere by speaking but he does. “You know I went and talked to Laura before her birthday dinner? I asked her whether there were specific werewolfy mating rituals. Or a specific way I should woo you.”

Derek looks at him, slightly horrified. “You didn’t!”

Stiles grins. “I did. I told it was her birthday present - that I was voluntarily letting her meddle.”

Now Derek looks worried for Stiles’ sanity. “What did she say?”

“I made her promise she would take the piss or get me to do something stupid before I asked her. She seemed to get that I was serious. She told me about this quote about mates that your Mom used to tell you.”

This time Derek smiled and recited from memory, “Each wolf is whole in itself but there are those who are created to walk beside in perfect harmony. A mate to write their name on your heart will make you safe by watching your back, give you peace by travelling beside you, bring you joy by smiling back at you, and join hands with you so will never be alone on your life journey,”

“Yeah, that. I started out thinking I was going to try to take that quote and prove to you that I am your mate, through wooing. But I realized there is no way that I would be able to convince you I am your mate, if I am not. Instead, I’ve realized that I want to tell you how you are my mate. From there, it is up to you where we go.”

Stiles swallows. “Derek Hale, I know that I am always safe with you. If we are in danger, I know you will be there, making sure that we both get out alive. You also make me feel safe sharing who I am with you. You’ve never made me feel bad about myself or how I was feeling. They say peace isn’t the lack of conflict but rather it is an inner quality that allows you to maintain equilibrium even in the midst of conflict. Now, equilibrium is not something I am much talented at. But with you by my side, I can find that calm. I can find my way out of calamitous thinking. You make me feel grounded. You’ve got a wicked sense of humor when you choose to let it out and you are the most fun to be goofy around because you’ll pretend to be annoyed but I know you really love it.”

Stiles stops for a moment, and takes Derek’s hand before he continues. “I know this isn’t really taking it slow when it comes to the feelings side of kissing and feelings but I want you to know, I think you are my mate. I hope one day you will decide that I am yours”

All of the sudden, there is a cat on their bed. It begins to grow and then transforms into a naked lady, just as it had at Laura’s birthday party.

Samaoth greets this with a hissed murmur, “Kind one, your obligation is fulfilled and your boon is granted.”

Stiles feels sick. Derek looks like he is about puke. Derek rasps out, “Not like this. I don’t want it like this. You can’t make him feel like this and then expect it to be okay.”

Samaoth arches one eyebrow. “Make him? I did not make him. This was a boon of revelation not a boon of creation. Maybe a slight nudge so that you were in a situation that would encourage you to share your feelings with each other. But the feelings themselves, they are yours, and yours alone.”

The pit in his stomach closed up and he was able to breathe again. But before Stiles could speak, Samaoth continued, “You know, not having to attend this thing was wonderful. Would you be willing to attend as my representative every year, Kind one?”

Derek appears to still be reeling, so Stiles answers. “Perhaps we leave it open for you invite us each year, while we retain the right to accept or refuse as we are able.”

Samaoth nods, “This is acceptable. Enjoy your mate, Kind one.” Samaoth then disappeared into thin air between one breath and the next.

Stiles and Derek look at each other. Derek finally speaks, “That was exhausting. Can we just go to sleep and talk about it tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Stiles kisses Derek’s forehead gently and then whispers, “Sweet dreams, Lover-wolf.”

*******

Traveling home was almost as exhausting as traveling to Seattle in the first place. But at least Roscoe was waiting for them instead of a taxi.

When they had both climbed in, Stiles tapped on the steering wheel a couple of times to relieve the nervous tension.

“We haven’t really talked much about what Samaoth said. I thought we might at least talk about what we wanted to tell the pack when we get home.”

Derek nods. “That’s a good idea.” He pauses. “I think I should go first.”

“Okay.”

Stiles is confused when Derek starts how he does but listens without interrupting. “Kate liked to play sexual games. She was always pushing me further than I wanted to go. I think Friday morning happened because you used your fingernails to wake me up. She used to scratch me, until I would bleed. She would start soft, almost tickling and gradually get harder and harder until I would beg her to stop. She would only stop if I did something for her, like go down on her or play with her nipples.”

Derek takes a deep breath in and out through his nose. “I thought I loved her. I thought she loved me. I thought that was just how sex was. I didn’t know how bad she was until it was too late. You know the rest of the story. But I think she really messed up how I think about feelings and kissing as we’ve been calling it. I think you’re right. I probably need to talk to a professional to get it all sorted out in my own head.”

Stiles nods and makes an encouraging noise because it seems like Derek isn’t done talking yet.

“I want that with you. I want the whole thing: mates, married, growing old together, everything. The feelings are there. But I think I also need time to work out my own head before we go any further than the kissing.”

When Derek looks up at Stiles, his eyes are pleading with Stiles, like there was anything other than yes that Stiles would say to all that. “Derek, I am here for you, however you need. As long as we can talk to each other, it will be okay. I can’t promise to always do or say the right thing but I want this too. I want this in a way that is healthy for you. And in the mean time, kissing you is no hardship.”

To demonstrate, and because he wanted to, Stiles leans forward and kisses Derek, once on the lips, once on the forehead, and then once on each cheek.

Stiles leans back, and asks, “What do you want to tell the pack?”

“The truth.”

*******

Everyone is gathered at the Hale house when they walk inside, hand in hand. Laura squeals and jumps up to hug them both as soon as she notices. Scott grins and gives Stiles a thumbs up while everyone else takes a moment to catch up.

They sit down together in one of the love seats, Derek on Stiles’ lap.

Lydia starts of the friendly interrogation. “I’d ask how it went but it appears to have gone very well.”

Stiles is grinning and Derek has a soft happy smile on his face. They look each other in the eyes and both say, “Yeah,” at the same time.

Laura throws and throw pillow at their heads. “Stop being so sappy and tell us all about it.”

Derek throws it back at his sister and Stiles starts to talk. “The conference was a conference. Nothing exciting there except, we kind of both decided that we are mates.”

The whole room erupts in shouts and wolf whistles.

Once they settle down, Stiles continues, “Samaoth doesn’t like to go so she used this as an excuse to get out of it and give Derek his boon. Apparently, we have always been each other’s mates and might have figured that out on our own eventually but Samaoth’s boon was one of revelation. The time alone together, along with a small nudge from her, helped us to be able realize our feelings for each other.”

“Congratulations, guys,” Boyd says when Stiles stops speaking. The rest of the pack echoes the sentiment.

Derek nudges Stiles, “Can you tell them the rest too?” Stiles startles slightly. “You want to share that part?

“Yeah. I don’t know that I can say it again but they’re pack. It’s safe.”

Stiles smiles, pride and happiness leaking out everywhere. “Part of us deciding what it means for us to be mates is that we decided to take it really slow. Derek shared some things about what Kate did to him that have messed up how he sees the physical aspect of relationships. He’s decided to talk to a professional about to get things straight in his own head. We’re still mates, we’re just taking it really slow.”

Derek stared at his shoes the whole time Stiles was talking. His embarrassment is bright on his cheeks and the rest of the pack must be able to smell it.

Laura stands up from her seat and kneels on the ground in front of Derek so she can look him in the eyes. “I am so proud of you. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. We all love you and want you to be happy.”

Erica yells from across the room. “What she said.”

Lydia replies, “I might have said it with more tact, but I agree too.”

Isaac, Boyd, Scott, and Jackson are quick to follow with their own reassurances.

There is a bit of awkward tension in the room like no one really knows what comes next, until Stiles declares, “It’s time for Frozen and a puppy pile.”

Derek smiles and says, “Yeah, that would be great.”

Three disney movies later, Stiles falls asleep with Derek sitting between his legs, back resting against Stiles’ chest. He’s never been so happy in all his life. Maybe he should be looking forward to his next oh shit moment.

The end.

#dearericbittle #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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honeylikewords · 6 years

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what are your favourite marvel villains and why?

That’s a really interesting question, and thank you for asking!

For me, I’m not that into villains. I don’t actually like the whole “grey-moral ‘is he good is he bad’?” schtick. I mean, sometimes it works, but more often than not, it doesn’t. I don’t need to write a whole essay about why I think villain-woobifying can get really gross and not actually develop a deep character but rather just play at the idea of “median zones of morality”, so instead, I’ll just give the best answer I can.

Marvel movies, on the whole, suffer from really objectively one dimensional or illogical villains. For example, Thanos, the super hyped UltraBaddie, is really just… very bland. His reasoning for universal-level genocide isn’t even that well thought out.

Just googling “marvel villain problem” yields nearly ten million results in just 0.49 seconds! Read some of the articles here, if you want! Marvel really has struggled with trying to dimensionalize characters (whether heroes or villains), and sometimes, the efforts just fall flat.

But, of the roster of villains we do have, here are ones that I liked, presented in two categories: objectively interesting and compelling villains, and just rowdy guys who are fun to watch.

Compelling Villains:

1. Erik Killmonger, Black Panther. There’s a LOT to say about Erik Killmonger. Erik is widely regarded as the first (and possibly only) breakout, deep, and complex villain of the MCU. But he still suffers within the narrative form because, in the end, they just… kill him. It just ends abruptly. But the themes he introduced, the concepts, the practical reality of what a person pushed this far by societal hatred and personal suffering can do? It was amazing to watch.

Obviously, Erik isn’t a good guy. The story didn’t set him up to be redeemable: the writers were conscious of making him aggressively anti-female and violent in a realistic, frightening way. But they also set him up to be sympathetic. One could see how a man brought low by the world would start to think the way he did.

Erik broke the mold for Marvel, and while I have a lot of feelings (complex and counterintuitive ones) about his arc, he’s far and away the best the MCU has produced in terms of legitimate, fascinating, deeply human villains.

2. Wilson Fisk, specifically in DD s1. Technically, Wilson Fisk is part of the extended television/Netflix MCU, but he still counts, in my opinion. Fisk was the first time I ever found myself actually rooting for the bad guy and wondering “wait… is he… not evil?”

I cried for Wilson Fisk. I ached for his sadness. I wanted him to be happy and to be with Vanessa. I felt awful that he lost Wesley. I felt for him and it confused and scared me, and that’s awesome work on the part of the writers. I’m a firm believer in doing good and being heroic no matter the cost, so I rarely sympathize with villains, but, wow, Fisk caught me off guard.

Seeing the little boy he was and the trauma he went through, the way he actually was just a boy trying to help, save, and protect his mother and, in his later life, the city that raised him, was heartbreaking. Watching him go through the immense tragedy of his life stirred deep sympathy in me.

He was intimately human and so strangely sweet, so honest, so vulnerable, that it became hard for me to see him as a bad man. I wanted him to change, to turn around, to pull out before it was all too late. And that’s what makes him such a hugely fascinating villain.

Maybe it’s because Vincent D’Onofrio, himself, is autistic, and he intentionally played Fisk as also being on the spectrum. Maybe that rang true to me and I felt that connection and tenderness and love and the overwhelming sensation of a world so vicious that you just want to make it quiet and calm by whatever means necessary. But whatever it was, and however the writers accomplished it, that feeling, that intense emotional level of “please, please don’t, I don’t want to see you go astray like this” stays with me long after that season ended.

(Here is a good article talking about the representation of Fisk and why it can be dicey and unsafe to make villains disabled, but why it worked in this situation and why it matters.)

And, now, RowdyBoy Villains Who Are Pretty Fun But Not All That Deep, Really:

1. Ego, The Living Planet, Guardians of the Galaxy 2. Ugh, what a weirdo! But super funny. Ego’s big fight with Peter is both a combination hilarious, pitiful, weird, and legitimately sad. Ego is such a strange bird and seeing Kurt Russell play this freakazoid was a fun, quirky ride. Ego may have been an ass, but he was at least fun to watch being an ass. Plus, my dad likes his beard. Great job, Ego! I guess?

2. Grandmaster, Thor: Ragnarok. Oh my GOD, I unironically love Grandmaster. Everything about Grandmaster is great. Everything. He’s just such a sore thumb and such a wonderful addition to the MCU. Jeff Goldblum in swishy gold pleather with a melting stick, improvising half his lines and just being like that all the time? God, I love Grandmaster. I’d die for Grandmaster. I want more Grandmaster and I want it NOW. Out of all of these, he’s my actual favorite and someone I actually like. Like, oh my god, he’s just such a perfect character. Praise be to Grandmaster.

3. Loki, Thor: Ragnarok. Sorry, gotta say it, but I hated Loki up until Ragnarok. Every single other iteration of Loki skeeves the hell out of me and is just gross to me. The first time we meet Loki in Avengers, he’s a direct N*zi/F*scist parallel. No way, no how, not a chance am I gonna give that kind of creep a shot. I’m sorry, but no, get away from me. Plus, his enormous fanbase of fangirls cooing over him and woobifying him and making him out to be some sorry angel when he was a greasy genocidal maniac was just revolting.

But then came Ragnarok, and, finally, Marvel got Loki right. Or, well, more aptly, Taika Waititi got Loki right. Thank you, Taika, for redeeming the entire MCU by your damn self.

Loki is a trickster god, not a god of death or violence or war. Loki was, in the original myths, just a tricky person who liked to change their gender/sex, their shape, their dang species, all just to have a romp of a time. Loki wasn’t some N*zi affiliate god of bloodthirst. He was just an asshole who played pranks and got pregnant a lot. You heard me. Read all about it right here. And here. And here, too, for good measure.

So when Ragnarok rolled into theatres and presented us with a funny, human, sympathetic (and likely queer-coded) and genuinely appreciable Loki who just was kind of the epitome of “useless Slytherin; desperate to get their way but shite at getting it sneakily”, I finally learned to like the guy.

I don’t love him, don’t get me wrong, and he’s certainly no one I admire, respect, or am attracted to, but at least now I can stand him. I can appreciate him somewhat. I can see good in him that simply wasn’t present before.

Plus, he’s just actually funny. Like, Tom Hiddleston has really solid comedic timing and great expressions, and once all that ridiculous melodrama was cast aside from the earlier Thor movies and replaced by an attitude of genuine humor, Loki’s snarky, selfish, stupid-ass side finally got the spotlight and I actually enjoyed watching him do his stuff.

Sorry there aren’t many legit villains on here: again, I tend to despise villains and I don’t see much value in pretending they’re “deep” for being monstrous. Sometimes a bad thing is just bad, and we don’t need to pretend it’s more than that.

Thank you for asking, and I hope this answers your question, or at least gives you more insight into what I like to consume in my media!

#messages #about k #AKA: I HAVE OPINIONS A LOT #Anonymous

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thescrapbookingscientist · 2 years

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Weekly Media Roundup

- Barbarities (Manga) - Hell Yeah! My favorite slow burn BL series (No, MXTX works do not count) is getting an official English release! I liked the dynamic of perpetually tired workaholic royal treasurer and his hedonistic, golden retriever personified, lovestruck personal guard so much that I actually bough the Japanese novels. It helps that the art and character designs are top tier, and the humor is surprisingly fun as well. Hoping that an English release will bring with it a larger fandom, at the moment it’s quite obscure.

- Teen Wolf (TV) - Saw a few retrospectives on this old fandom of mine and decided to do a rewatch with my sister on the grounds that if it’s not good, it will at least be entertaining. We’ve made pretty good progress so far, starting the 3rd season, which supposedly is the unironically good one. The first two have been fun in a corny way, but boy is my watching experience now that I’m an adult far different from it was when I originally watched it in high school. Like, wow Derek sure does spend a lot of time intimidating and stalking random teenagers huh. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very funny to watch him just appear in caveman pose in the corner of some random dark room, I’m just surprised that I was ever able to take him seriously. Anyway, I’ve been keeping a counter of whether there are any episodes where the camera DOES’NT ogle a pointlessly shirtless man. So far out of 24+ episodes, there’s only been one, and that only counts as a technicality as there was a shirtless man in it, the camera just didn’t focus on him long enough to count. I have faith that we will eventually get a true entry, maybe.

- My Dress Up Darling (Anime) - I’d like to think I have pretty good taste in media (Bold move considering I just admitted to watching Teen Wolf, I know), though to be honest I’m mostly watching this because I want to see a cute anime girl show off a lot of cute fashion. The behind the scenes cosplayer life is one I’ve briefly dipped my toes in as well, so it’s interesting to see the thought process in how to most accurately make a 3D version of 2D costumes.

-Ace Attorney (Video Game) - Still making my way through these. To be honest after playing the aptly named Great Ace Attorney, I’m finding the characters in this first game to be a little underwhelming. I don’t hate Nick and Maya but they’re pretty bland compared to Ryuu and Susato, and the supporting cast tend to be more annoying than charming. That being said, I’m only one game in, and from what I’ve seen I’ll likely like Appollo, Athena, and Klavier more, so I’lll be waiting patiently for them to show up.

-The Magnus Archives (Podcast) - I think the fact that this is one of the top media in terms of constantly taking up space in my brain really says something about it’s quality. Namely that it is very good.

-Pokemon Legends Arceus (Video Games) - Welp this has consumed all of my free time. For once I’m actually trying to complete the whole pokedex too, since God won’t talk to me anymore until I do. Kudos to Pokemon for actually pulling off a post game twist this time around. I’m sure plenty of people called it but I don’t usually expect Pokemon plots to be err. Good. So I was surprisingly pleased.

-Inscryption (Video Game) - Don’t want to say to much about this one here (this time at least) but it’s certainly an experience. Just watched a playthrough atm, but I might try to play it myself later, the Part 1 card game strategy portion looks pretty fun.

-Ranking of Kings (Anime) - Boji won BEST BOY at the anime awards this yeaar and it’s what he deserves. Anyway, the backstories in this show keep getting more and more intriguing, every time they answer a question, 3 more are brought to the table.

-Danganronpa (Video Game) - And We Are Back.

Listening to: A Good Song Never Dies by Saint Motel, Edge of Seventeen by Steviee Nicks, Shivers by Ed Sheeran, Ready to Die by Andrew WK, I Think I Just Died by Guiano, Odds Are by Barenaked Ladies, Evil Eye by Franz Ferdinand, Ship In A Bottle by fin, ASHES by Hiroyuki Sawano.

#weekly roundup #my posts

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shirtlesssammy · 7 years

Text

First Blood : Recap

250 episodes. I can't believe we've already reached the quarter episode mark of Supernatural! Who am I kidding, they've got more than 1000 episodes in them, right?

Then:

The British Men of Letters are a menace and the family that hunts together, stays together, er, except for the whole mom leaving, the angel hunting Lucifer alone, and sons getting imprisoned in solitary confinement thing.

Now:

Mary sits quietly at a diner, sipping her coffee, when she gets a call from Castiel. He wonders where she is: Lawrence. Sensing Cas's distress, she asks what's wrong. "I, ah, need you to meet me at the bunker." *Click* Still working on that Chatty Cathy thing, I see. He wanders off screen, presumably to the bunker.

"Six hours ago, Sam and Dean Winchester tried to kill the president of the United States." An unknown government operative (UGO #1) briefs another unknown government operative (UGO #2) about the new guests in their secret, underground bunker. UGO #2 wants the full dossier on the boys. UGO #1: "Assault, murder, multiple accounts of desecrating a corpse." "The same corpse?" As UGO #2 learns the full details of the attempt on the POTUS's life, Sam and Dean are transported to their new shinier bunker, and locked away.

UGO #1 suggests they take care of the Winchesters the easy way, but UGO #2 likes to play with his prey before breaking them. They could connect to something much bigger. I like the calm 1950's Interrogator vibe UGO #2's got going on.

UGO #2 proceeds to talk with Sam and Dean, separately. He questions them about their motive for the attempted assassination. "You're going to talk to me, son." He then lets them know that torture doesn't work. You know what does work? Nothing.

He's just going to let them sit, and think, and stare at the blank walls of their cells. They'll talk eventually. And no one is coming for them so they've got all the time in the world.

Sidenote: UGO #2 doesn't know about this motherfucker~

Meanwhile, Metatron Mick (and his cartoon beard) sits at a magical typewriter to relay the latest to the Home Office.

He's been trying to make inroads with American hunters, but he's not having much luck "Let me paint you a picture, of a world without monsters or demons, or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night; of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural." Uh, dude, we like to watch our Winchesters so we'll just keep things as is. Thxkby. Ok, that's not what the hunter dude Mick is talking to is thinking, but he seems super impressed to me.

Actually, what he really says is gold all on its own: "You can take your offer, and you can shove it up your ass. I'm sure it won't be too painful, what with those soft hands of yours."

Back at the bunker, Mary is completely UNIRONICALLY angry at Cas -CAS!- for leaving Sam and Dean. <INSERT A THOUSAND GIFS OF CAS SAYING "I’ll go with you"> It breaks my little Cas-loving heart to watch this scene. Mary's emotional and projecting her own guilt on Cas. (Hmm, who else in that little family projects his issues onto others?) Cas is so demoralized he just takes it because he feels like he did fail the brothers.

Dean finds a loose screw in his cell, and starts the daily scratch on his wall. Man, with walls that soft, all he needs to do is ask for a poster of Raquel Welch and he'd be outta that place in no time! It's feeding time anyway. Dean's a-ok with the grub, but sadly, Sam did not get the kale smoothie he requested at the commissary.

Cas reaches out to Crowley for help, but Fergus is too busy drinking his mai-ti to expend any more energy on Sam and Dean Winchester. "Do you even care that they're gone?" Cas implores. "No." Crowley has full faith that they'll make it out ok; they always do.

Mary consults John's journal (like, that seems to be the one thing that won't help the Winchesters in this new "humans are the real bad guys" world). Anyway, she hears a phone ring in Dean's room. It's Alicia, Asa Fox's daughter. They need help with a pack of werewolves. She's on the case! Very Dean of her ---if she can't solve the most pressing issue, might as well keep hunting for the sake of distraction.

Dean now has quite a few hash-marks on his wall. And while watching the episode live, Boris literally called it on Sam exercising about two seconds before we saw him start his calisthenic routine. So like Sam. Things are looking pretty grim though for our boys.

With time passing, and no hope of finding Sam and Dean, Mary and Cas meet up at a bar. Mary is sorry for her previous actions, but Cas still takes full blame. Poor bby. They have no leads. And Sam and Dean have been gone "Six weeks, two days, and ten hours." Oh, Cas. Cas then tells Mary about his inability to even solve a case. I know people are confused about how this is "Cas with his mojo back" but I think this speaks to Cas's mental state --and how human he feels. He has zero confidence in himself right now. He's no angel. He doesn't feel at home anywhere. He thinks he's still a hunter-in-training, and he's failing without his support system. And just like the man he fell from heaven for, he's going to take full blame for everything if he can't fix them. Mary suggests they take care of the case together, but Cas declines. "No, I'll only get in your way."

Chow Time. Only NOT! Sam and Dean are both DEAD!!! I love how they supposedly did CPR on Sam but he hadn't been moved. Lol.

In the morgue, the Dead!chesters are laid out. UGO #1 and #2 are arguing it out about what a waste keeping them locked up was, before turning off the lights and leaving.

Cas is alone in the dark bunker.

Back at the morgue...*SURPRISE* Dean gasps awake! He's ALIVE! Praise Chuck! They're both alive! I was worried there for a mo. Just then the morgue doctor walks in and they ambush him for answers. Where are they? He doesn’t know. They steal his phone, and take off. Making it outside before any CCTV catches them, Dean calls Cas. “This is my voicemail. Make your voice…a mail” No answer!

Dean tries again, and again. Finally:

Cas: What?

Dean: Cas

Cas: Dean!?

Dean: Hey, buddy. Long time.

Us: SQUEEEEEEE

Dean quickly cuts to the chase and tells Cas they’re in Rocky Mountain National Park. Meet them as soon as possible, they’re kind of on the clock. *Click* Sam asks Dean if “he told him.” “Nope.” Hmmm. (Natasha: On a rewatch this hit me hard. They’re on the clock because they’re trying to escape, but also so that one of them can say goodbye forever to Cas before they die. God DAMN it, Winchesters.)

Mary walks away from a den of beheaded vampires when her phone rings. It's Cas! He tells her that he heard from Sam and Dean and she rockets her way to meet him in Colorado.

UGO #1 and 2 walk into the examining room to check out the Winchesters' remains only to find both bodies gone and a tapping sound coming from the body drawers on the wall. It's our bumbling doctor!

“Whoopsie daisy,” he might as well have said. The troops move out to the Benny Hill theme song. “These guys are killers. You got eyes, you pull the trigger,” UGO #1 orders curtly so that we all know the stakes.

Cas meets up with Mary and suggests backup – perhaps Crowley and Rowena? Mary scoffs at turning to the King of Hell and a witch so Cas thinks of someone else...t.b.a. (You know in the old days it woulda been Charlie. *mourns quietly to myself* *Boris joins in*)

Agents Surly and Affable hunt the Winchesters and rib each other. You’re out of shape! You’re mentally unstable! Bromance!

Cut to Dean and Sam – still hunted. Sam guesses that they've got about about an hour until dark, 6 hours to midnight. “Dean,” Sam says. “We've gotta talk about this.” Is “this” feelings? An escape plan? Stay tuned, kids. For now, they leave their big ole bootprints in the mud before wading into a stream. (Bobby would be chewing you out, boys.)

Back on the road with Mary and Cas, our guilt-fueled duo meets with Mick and Mr. Ketch. Mary is understandably NOT OKAY with this plan. “Suddenly the demon and his mommy don't look so bad.” Cas sticks up for his Crowley/Rowena plan and mentions that they helped take care of Lucifer.

Mick is impressed. “THE Lucifer?”

“Did you win?” asks Mr. Ketch. When Cas answers in the affirmative, Ketch lauds their success while he stares at Cas with his horrible, cold shark eyes...

“But, Sam and Dean were taken,” Mary interjects, pulling this recap back on course. They need help. And, huzzah, the BMoL are happy to help.

Mick notes that the American hunters have been a difficult barrier to their main goal in the U.S., which is to “make friends.” Right. Anyway, he goes on to describe hunters as “surly, suspicious, [and they] don't play well with others.”

“Well, that is accurate,” Cas notes.

Mick tells Mary that if word gets out that they helped save THE Sam and Dean Winchester then it'll help their cause with American hunters. Mary reluctantly agrees and tells them that her boys are being held in the Rocky Mountain National Forest – which the BMoL immediately identify as “Site 94”, a shadow-ops facility. They'll run a satellite scan of the area. The pairs depart, ready to find our boys.

Back in the woods UGO #1 and UGO #2, best buddies by now, find the Winchesters’ footprints. They're on the trail! The camera pans back to the Winchesters who are awfully close by. The boys hide behind a tree and tackle one of the soldiers who has trailed off on his own.

Dean picks up the solder's walkie talkie and has a friendly chat with the agents. “What we have here is a failure to communicate,” He says with relish. “’Cause we're not trapped out here with you. You're trapped out here with us.”

Dean and Sam find an old cabin and immediately take stock of what's inside. Sam lights a lantern, which seems like a really terrible idea. Dean grabs a bear trap. Yeah! Let's Home Alone this mother. The boys get to work and soon enough, the agents are upon them. They see the lantern illuminating the room, and someone passes in front of the curtain. Those wily Winchesters must be inside.

Once inside, the cabin appears empty. The soldiers stalk in and around the cabin when the Winchesters begin their attack. Soldiers are non-fatally shot and knocked unconscious and then we're down to two: UGO nos. 1 through 2. UGO #1, the bigger jerk, gets trapped in Dean's Home Alone bear trap while UGO #2 gets cornered by Sam with a gun at his head. The boys walk away. Really, with that swagger they might as well be wearing sunglasses and walking away from an explosion.

“Who are you?” UGO #2 calls after them.

“We're that guys that saved the world,” says Sam Fucking Winchester.

Cas greets Sam and Dean in the woods. Sam gives him a giant moose hug before flying to hug his mom. Dean gives Cas a solid bro hug before joining the Mary Winchester hug pile. Cas looks on, happy to see his family together again.

Sam and Dean aren’t pleased to find the BMoL hanging out by the cars but there’s no time to hash it out - they’ve got to high tail it out of there. The people they left will call for backup. Mr. Ketch immediately gloms onto this, calling their mercy “a bit unprofessional.” They all exchange meaningful LOOKS of suspicion before getting into the car and taking off.

As they drive back home Mary's car cuts out suddenly. “It's time,” Sam says. Cas throws Dean a goddamnit what did you do look and they all get out of the car. Billie waits for them on the road. She reveals that Dean and Sam made a deal. Billie would kill them and then bring them back to life, thereby helping them escape. On one condition: Billie gets to kill one Winchester for good by midnight. Ding, dong, Cinderella.

In response to Mary and Cas’s looks of horror Dean explains that being locked in that solitary cell was worse than Hell. “You don't have to do this,” Cas grinds out. But Billie tells them that they made a blood pact, strong as the cosmos.

“Who's it gonna be?” Billie asks and Dean and Sam exchange sorrowful looks, ready to engage in a sacrifice-off. They're surprised by Mary, though, who offers herself. Billie magically pins down Sam and Dean and Mary, trembling, takes a gun and points it at her own head. DAMN IT, WINCHESTERS.

Mary tells them she loves them. And then Billie dies, stabbed through the heart with an angel blade.

Fuck yeah, Castiel

(Though I am genuinely sorry about Billie.)

I know the entirety of Tumblr has already done this quote but I'm including it for reasons, okay?

Cas heartbreakingly, emotionally tells them, “This world. This sad, doomed little world. It needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get and I will not let you die. I won’t let any of you die. And I won't let you sacrifice yourselves. You mean too much to me. To everything. Yeah, you made a deal. You made a stupid deal. And I broke it. You're welcome.”

FUCK. YEAH. CASTIEL.

The Winchesters all look at each other. Because. Damn. (Boris: I want a 5 page analysis paralleling Cas killing Billie to Dean killing Death. Please and thank you.)

Cut to Mick typing away merrily on his magic typewriter. We learn that Mr. Ketch has “dealt with” everyone who knew about Sam and Dean's arrest. He's also made inroads with the American hunters. Great! Good job Mick.

Oh wait. He's talking about Mary.

God damn it, Winchesters.

Boris: Man, after this episode, this show needs to rename itself Natural. Barely a supernatural being around. But seriously, I don’t know if it was the hiatus or what, but I loved this episode. It hit all the right notes —enough to hand wave away the questions about Cas’s abilities. That being said, Andrew Dabb loves Cas, and we love him for that. This was such a strong episode for Cas. I think it’s really setting up the rest of the season for a major character development. Yay! We know he’s a Winchester, but it’s going to be so nice to see him realize he’s a Winchester (goddamnit, this better be the endgame.) I also have to give kudos to Mary’s story. Mary continues to have her own story and agency. I'm so trained to having the woman be a plot advancement or helper or foil for the main characters (not necessarily spn, but all tv/movies) that I'm just shocked and mad at her for wanting to find her own way... but I'm cool with her working with the BMoL because this is her path. She’s not just here to bake pie for Dean. They better not fucking kill her. And finally, and most controversially: Destiel doesn’t exist. Lolz.

There are no friendly quotes:

They might be the tip of some nasty-ass iceberg.

Chow time!

Sam and Dean, they're like herpes...just when you think they're gone, hello, the boys are back!

This is my voicemail. Make your voice...a mail.

The last two months we've been sitting around with our junk in our hands because you wanted to wait them out.

Maybe this is some slow your heartbeat kung-fu crap.

#supernatural #spn recap #spn 12x09 #first blood #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #crowley #mary winchester #mr. ketch #mick #Billie the Reaper #supernatural season 12

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