#music time and approximate me do not match well today but that's okay

[imaginativeshrimp]

𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲? (connor x male reader)

request: Okay hello It’s me again! With a request this time. I was thinking about maybe a situation where there’s a wedding (Kara and Luther? North and Markus? Idk skdkd) where Connor takes his date and at first they’re both really awkward but maybe they’re teased into dancing via Hank meddling or something? Idk I just want super cheesy Connor at a wedding with his partner if that’s okay. With male reader maybe also 👀👀

theme: romance, slight comedy

TW: none, just Connor being an awkward sweetheart

author's note: i absolutely love this, this is fucking adorable <3 i love connor with all my heart.

Today's the day.

markus and north's wedding connor was invited to.

the android was nervous, he was awkward at social gatherings and he knew it. Connor was going with his boyfriend, who was also awkward.

Connor had on a different suit which wasn't his usual work attire, it was a dark grey suit with a matching tie.

fixing his already neat tie how he usually does, he went to check up on his boyfriend who was getting ready in the bathroom. "how the fuck do you put on a fucking tie..." Y/N grumbled, struggling to make the tie look neat, he always wondered how the hell connor could do it...he's an android, he knows how to do almost anything.

Connor peeked into the bathroom, "do you need help with your tie, Y/N?" his boyfriend sighs, nodding in annoyance. "i do, love." connor smiled sightly, walking to him and straightning out his suit's shoulder blades. Connor gently fixed his tie, making it look just like his quickly, "i'm quite jealous of your tie skills." Y/N chuckled, looking down at his now neat tie. "i could teach you, if you want." Y/N nods, smiling at connor and cupping his face in his hands. "you're so precious." Y/N kissed the tip of his nose, "you look handsome too. always." he then walked out the bathroom to get other things ready before they leave.

Connor stood in the bathroom, his led turning yellow. was he blushing?

yes. yes he was. Connor was absolutely in love with this man.

after composing himself, he looked for Y/N again. "Y/N, are you ready to go? Markus said the ceremony was approximately at 4:30 pm."

“Almost!-“ he ran back to connor, almost tripping over furniture.

“Our suits look too plain, I’m adding something to them.”

He then puts a rose with a short stem in connor’s suit pocket along with his own.

“Now we look a bit more fancy.” Y/N smiles at his little detail, “now we can go.”

He grabs connor’s hand, leading him out their shared home.

Once they arrived at the wedding, they signed the guest book and looked for their designated seats.

As they searched, Connor found hank and walked over to him to say hello.

“Good evening lieutenant Anderson. I’m surprised you’re here.” Connor smiles, as Hank rolled his eyes, “I’m also surprised I’m here.” Hank stood up and looked at Y/N. “Oh, and you brought your boyfriend too, huh?” Y/N smiles, extending his hand forward to hank,

“It’s super nice to see you again, hank.” Hank shook his hand, “likewise.”

Luckily, they were in the same table, and so the ceremony begins.

After Markus and north’s bows, along with the yes’s and the kisses, it was now the after party.

Connor was now sitting awkwardly while music was blasting, Y/N was talking to Markus.

“I really do appreciate the both of you for coming. Connor speaks a lot about you to me, even north knows about you!” He laughs, Y/N couldn’t help but blush, “hopefully only good things, yeah?” “Of course!”

Markus then walks over to Connor, patting his shoulder and leaving to talk to other guests.

Hank was sitting with them, sipping on a cup full of red wine.

Y/N Didn’t know what to do, he’s never been to a wedding before and well, he didn’t want to bother Connor asking him to do something he doesn’t like. Hank raised an eyebrow, scooching his chair closer to Connor.

“Hey, why don’t you go dance with Y/N, hm?” He asked the android, who looked at him with a yellow led.

“I haven’t asked Y/N if he likes dancing.”

Hank deadpanned, “ask him, you dumbass.”

Connor looked at Y/N, who was busy on his phone. Two awkward men being in a relationship wasn’t always easy or comfortable. Yea, Y/N loved Connor, and back and forth, but…being antisocial was a bit of a problem.

Hank sighed in annoyance, “go for it, Connor. Don’t be a party pooper.” He teased, slapping connor’s arm with his hand.

Connor nods slowly, his eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“…Y/N..?”

Hank frowned, “louder!”

“Y/N.” He spoke a bit louder, getting the attention of his boyfriend. Y/N smiled softly at Connor, “yes, love?”

Connor looked at the dance floor and then back at Y/N, “do you like dancing?”

Y/N nods, “I do, even if I’m not so good at it, I find in enjoyable.”

Hank was watching from the corner of his eyes, an eyebrow raised as he watched the two young men be stupid together. What a good wing man he is.

“Would you care to dance with me, then?” Connor stands up, his arm extended for Y/N to take.

Y/N smiles wider, taking connor’s hand. “I would love to dance with you.”

As they walked to the dance floor, the music changed to a soft rhythm. Perfect timing to slow dance.

Connor stops in his track, putting his hand on Y/N’s waist, and held his hand, while Y/N puts his hand on his shoulder.

Connor started to move his feet slowly, Y/N catches up and chuckled as he almost stepped on connor’s shoe. “I almost stepped on you-“ “android’s can’t feel pain, so if you did step on me, I wouldn’t have felt it-“

Y/N deadpanned, “I’d still feel bad if I did step on you.” Connor raised an eyebrow slightly, “you don’t have to feel bad, I can’t be hurt.”

Y/N shook his head, “you’re pretty real to me, so I will feel bad.”

They both moved in sync, looking into each other’s eyes as the music played.

“Connor, you know I love you right?”

“I do, I feel the same way. I cherish the small and big moments I have with you.”

Y/N smiled, leaning in to peck connor’s lips.

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Tag: @writhingcreature

#dbh x male reader #dbh #dbh connor #connor x male reader #x male reader #dbh connor x male reader #male reader

[fy-2pm]

[Interview] 2PM's Taecyeon 1st Look Magazine

In "Vincenzo", going back and forth as the foolish intern lawyer and the cold-blooded sociopath, Ok Taecyeon has added tension. Another side of him begins.

Q: It has been approximately one year since your last acting piece and you're back with the drama <VINCENZO>. Did you watch the first episode?

T: Of course, I really enjoyed watching it. Actually, I don't know much about the part without my appearance until I watched it on TV. So, it's like something new to me. Watching the first episode, I realized I am in a project that's much bigger than I thought.

Q: What's your reaction?

T: Overall, it was fun. However, there were many scenes with the comical elements came out stronger than I thought. As this is the work from scriptwriter, Park Jae-Beom, I expected some comical elements to some extent but most of them, I didn't even think about it.

Q: Like you said, scriptwriter Park Jae-Beom is someone who will address the social issues in a comical way. What's it like to work with him?

T: While I was reading the script, I thought the writer has something he wanted to say. He wanted to bring out social criticism through his piece of work. Actually, the black comedy genre needs to be more comical so that it won't be too heavily weighted. It's not easy. The scriptwriter managed to solve this without placing too much weight on this. Personally, I am very impress.

Q: At the drama press conference, Director Kim Hee Won told us that she worked very hard on each character to the extent that it took her 6 months to do casting. Why do you think Ok Taecyeon became Jang Jun Woo?

T: I think the biggest reason is my good health. From Director Kim's perspective, bright and healthy image matches with Junwoo's character. She said I should be able to explore and express this character well.

Q: Actually, I thought Jang Junwoo would be very different to the Ok Taecyeon that we know for a long time.

T: When I first received the script, I thought, "Should I be doing this?" because Jang Junwoo and I have a lot in common. The very first scene for Junwoo is riding an electric scooter, which made me feel if someone is hiding a camera to film my real life. I like to ride it all the time (laugh). However, as the story unfolds, it is more than just Junwoo's foolish out look. I'm going to show a different side of me, so I am paying a lot of attention in my acting.

Q: With a different side, what would that be?

T: I think Jang Junwoo is someone with many sides and shadings. It's character that goes back and forth between cold and hot bath. I keep thinking, "Can I express it like this?" I am thinking into each and single details. Personally, I have never acted like this before, so I'm expressing it in various different ways under the directions from the director. Viewers will be able to see this, I wonder how they will accept it.

Q: Personally, I think your "Tikitaka" with senior lawyer played by Jeon Yeo Bin was impressive. I'm looking forward to see the chemistry between you two. (T/N: "Tikitaka" means "the situation whereby someone does something and the other supports with efficient responses")

T: Actually I tried to get to know each other better. She's an actress who receives well and so, we are in sync when say our script lines.

Q: Jang Junwoo is an intern who just took his first step into the society. What was Ok Taecyeon like when he first started? Let's talk about the old days.

T: When I first started working... It was already 15 years ago (laugh). Back then, to me, everything was fun. The very first time I earned my own money was when I did some modelling. At that time, I didn't have a manager, so I took the bus with heavy stage makeup. I also went to practice just like that. However, everything was really fun. At that time, my parents were in the US and I came back to Korea alone. One of the fun things is to tell them each and everything I did for work.

Q: <VINCENZO> will be meeting global viewers via Netflix. Will the global viewers be able to relate to the story?

T: For sure, I don't think there's anything you can relate to it. This is because it is a black comedy where they are pointing out the current problems in Korean society. However, if you look at it at a wider scope, the definition of a dark hero is the same in any society. Viewers with their conventional thoughts and curiosity will have questions as to why things are not resolved by the law. I think this is where <VINCENZO> will attract the global viewers.

Q: You have been an actor for more than 10 years. When was the first time, you are convinced about this?

T: I think it was at the time when I was filming the drama <WONDERFUL DAYS>. One day after shooting a scene, the writer praised me for doing well. While I was filming, I thought, "Am I doing it okay?". I didn't know I would get a good compliment. After the filming, I was able to feel the relief of my nervousness, which I have never felt before. For the first time, I thought, "Is this the charm of acting?"

Q: When you first dream of becoming an actor to now, is there any difference?

T: Well, I think we should use the expression "When I first started" rather than "When I first dreamed" about it. I think I really started not knowing what was really going on. With the thought that I am working with nice people, every time I go to work, I will think about how I can contribute to make it interesting and fun in the filming. I thought about how I can express more. I think it's about time for me to think about how to make my characters look new.

Q: Actually, there is no right or wrong answer for acting. Sometimes, there are different opinions but what kind of choices do you have to make?

T: Personally, I will analyze the characters and prepare a lot of things. Sometimes, I will approach the director. Times like that, I will follow the director's instructions. Of course, there are also times when I have my own thoughts. However, no matter how I act, it doesn't mean much if it gets edited out later. I came across an actor who doesn't look at his acting at all on the monitor. If he sees his own acting, he would be forcing his acting without realizing it. So when he the director says it's okay, he is okay with it, too. After hearing that, I thought that was right too.

Q: What attracts you when you look at a piece of work?

T: Personally, I think how the story flows is important. Next is, what can I show with this character? I will look into it.

Q: What's the joy living as an actor?

T: While you get to play different characters every time, you can also break down people's prejudice. I think this is the part with the most fun. So I think it's important to take on new challenges with something new. I am always thinking how to keep people's attentions and to what extend people can take when I do something outrageous.

Q: If so, what does actor Ok Taecyeon want to show with his acting?

T: Honestly, instead of showing a completely different side of me, I am trying to focus on what I already have and I'll increase all aspects little by little. I was watching my acting to look for the character's flow and what the character is missing all at once. I'm trying to do that (laugh).

Q: By the way, at the end of last year, 2PM announced their group comeback at a live. How's the preparation going?

T: We're preparing but I'm not sure if we can make a comeback this year (laugh). We are planning but there are situations overlapping so we need to organize that.

Q: Since 2016, it's been 5 years since your last group album. Personally, anything you want to show us?

T: As all our members are composing songs, we all have different ideas. Like what music to use as our title song? We cannot make a start unless we find our direction. Actually, once the title song is decided, it will progress from then on, but members haven't come to a decision yet. Recently, our first round of gathering failed (laugh).

Q: Define Ok Taecyeon in a few words. What words are appropriate?

T: A lot of people said the words "healthy" or "vitamin C" (laugh). Personally, I like all of them. However, if I put them all together, I hope I can become the "Happy Virus." Doesn't matter where I go, I want to give happiness to many people. As a singer who is acting, if you watch me act and you can feel the comfort and happiness from my heart that would be great.

Q: I think you have achieved this. Everyone in the site here today is happy. Thanks to Taecyeon.

T: Really? Then, that's all. What. Hahaha...

Trans @JLML718

#2pm #taecyeon #p: photoshoot #e: magazine #e: interview #1st look #1st look korea #Vincenzo #korean actor #korean singer #kpop #k drama #march 2021 issue

[microcos-pod]

Micro-Cosmos S1E4: Looking Up Transcript

(The crew celebrates an afternoon of well-deserved downtime. Transcript begins below break.)

[sfx: forest ambiance, running footsteps]

FELIX BIIIIIIRD!

That... is nineteen! Almost... at... victory.

[sfx: running footsteps]

MILES That... was not... fair... you tripped me!

FELIX Did... not.

MILES Did too!

FELIX Did not!

MILES Totally did.

FELIX The point is mine, fair and square. You did not set eyes upon that bird, first, thus-

MILES Because you cheated!

FELIX What would you have me do, forfeit the point?

MILES Yes.

FELIX Well I'm not going to do that.

MILES I know. Ya lousy-

[sfx: a bird caws]

MILES BIRD!

FELIX Bird? Ah yes, Bird. Ah, damn. Bird.

MILES Haha, that's a nineteen-nineteen tie, next points the winner.

FELIX Yes. And that point belongs to me.

MILES Yeah, right. Tell you what, then. Let's have a wager. I'll even let you pick the terms.

FELIX Okay. The loser has to carry Athena's birthday present around in their bag for a week.

MILES Athena doesn't want to carry it?

FELIX No one wants to carry it, my friend.

MILES Fine! That's fine! It's not like I worked super hard on it or anything-

FELIX

Shh. I'm sensing... an avian presence.

[sfx: birdsong, running footsteps taking off]

FELIX ALLONS-Y!

[sfx: running footsteps taking off]

MILES WAIT UP!

FELIX Where... are... you...

[sfx: a whack]

[Felix yelps.]

MILES Ha! You-

[sfx: a similar whack]

MILES (CONT'D) AA! MY EYE!

***

[THEME MUSIC FADES IN]

ANNOUNCERFuturistic Trail Mix Productions presents Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast.

[THEME MUSIC FADES OUT]

***

[sfx: forest ambiance, running water, a click]

MILES Oww.

ATHENA This is-

MILES Owww.

ATHENA This is-

MILE OWWW!

ALEX Dude, just hold still. You took quite the fall out there.

ATHENA Athena Romero... recording. Hi. It's Day 28, and we're stationed at approximate position North 57 degrees West 105 degrees, still enroute to our equipment dropoff point and making good time at that. We've had to stop for a little, uh, first aid. Miles and Felix got hit in the face with a tree branch playing their new game. It's called Bird... I hate it.

FELIX Hey, Bird is- ow - Bird is fun!

ALEX Until the forest pokes your eye out along the way, Doc.

FELIX I'd call it an occupational hazard.

ATHENA Thankfully, Headquarters, no one actually lost an eye. By some miracle.

[C41′s BOOT-UP JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 Oh, the odds of them losing an eye aren't as high as you'd hope. I ran the calculations.

MILES Yeah? Let me check your math on that one.

C41 No.

ATHENA Anyways. We thought it'd be a good time to take a walking break. Maybe have some lunch.

[sfx: rummaging]

ALEX Aw, shoot. Looks like we're lacking in antibiotics to get this one on your knee cleaned up, Miles. Cal, any chance we're getting more of that with the shipment?

C41 I do have "additional first aid supplies" on the roster, Commander. So... probably!

ALEX I will take a "probably" for all that it's worth as far as HQ is concerned, kid. And hey, we're almost to the drop-off point. Speaking of which, Starshine, did you get the memo to them that we're ahead of schedule?

ATHENA Oh, uh, oh! Yeah, I did get the relay to them last night, and they came back with an acknowledgement. I think we're just going to have to wait it out though.

ALEX Aces. Cal, how much longer do we have on the walking?

C41 Eh, not much! About another...

[sfx: mechanical whirring]

C41 (CONT'D) Hour!

MILES An hour?

ALEX Hey, I like the sound of that.

FELIX Just think. All of that extra time to play Bird.

ATHENA And, sorry to ask, but, Bird is fun... because?

ALEX Because I think all this walking has made the doctor go a bit batty.

FELIX Perhaps. More like... bird-y. If you will.

[Miles groans.]

MILES You set him up for that one, you know- Ow!

ALEX Just a sanitising wipe. I know, I know, it stings. It's the best we're gonna do to keep it clean for now.

[C41 giggles.]

MILES What are you laughing at?

C41 Aw, nothing. Just like... you guys are so funny, with your 'physical pain' thing.

MILES Hilarious.

C41 Precisely my point.

MILES Well, somebody's chipper today.

C41 I am! It's almost time for me to get to like, actual work. As soon as we can set up camp at the rendezvous to make it our base? Watch me go, baby.

ALEX Wait a minute. You, Cal, are excited about doing work?

C41 Sure I am! I'm excited for work that's not super boring and lame and leaves me wanting to tie up my code in particularly pretty bows. Establishing our infrastructure, our inventory, our food sources, and oh, ooh! Getting started on actual research? They sour.I hope I just don't lose out on sleep.

MILES Yeah, sure. We wouldn't want that.

C41 And, and, Miles, while I'm busy doing important things, you can be off doing... whatever little tasks you're supposed to do.

MILES First of all, excuse you, I'm the engineering specialist too, not your friggin nanny, so like, I'm going to have plenty to do that is very important. And second of all, maybe I'll get to sleep instead of clacking away at fixing your code all night like a monkey at a typewriter, alright?

C41 Sure, sure. Now, are everyone's booboos in order? I'm sure Athena and Alex are getting antsy.

ATHENA Oh guys, no, it's fine. Take your time, we're not in a rush.

MILES No, you know what, my booboos- I mean my uh, my scrapes and stuff, are fantastic. Let's go.

FELIX But... I'm so weak.

MILES Nope. Up ya go.

C41 Something to prove, much?

ALEX You'll be fine Felix. Have some trail mix, and we'll be motoring, alright?

FELIX (chewing) Way ahead of you, sir.

ATHENA Alright. Off we go.

[sfx: a click]

***

[sfx: forest ambiance, a click]

ATHENA Recording from the drop-off point, at long last, this is Officer Athena Romero with Omnitarian Establishment Crew #0137-F. It's only been just over an hour since my last log, but we're here. We're here, and now we just have to camp out, and wait for the rest of our supplies. It'll be some downtime well-earned, I think.

ALEX I'd say so.

[sfx: walking footsteps, stopping, setting a bag down]

ATHENA Oh, hey Alex! Let me guess, the others are-

ALEX Competitive birdwatching? Yeah. I don't even think that they realise that that's what they've invented.

ATHENA Aw, jeez, even Cal? Or did you put them on babysitting duty?

ALEX Cal is... keeping score, apparently. Look, you didn't hear it from me, but sometimes I think that they miss Miles when I'm carrying their projector.

ATHENA Really?

ALEX Nah. They're babysitting.

[Athena laughs.]

ATHENA Well played, Commander.

ALEX Peace and quiet is probably one of the best sounds in the world. Second only to good conversation and blaring rock 'n' roll.

ATHENA Sounds like something I should write down.

[Alex laughs.]

ALEX Dude, no, I'm just rambling. And besides, you're recording this, aren't you?

ATHENA Yeah. I mean, I can turn it off, if you want.

ALEX It's fine with me. Kinda nice actually, to think we'll be able to look back on whatever it is we talked about on this mission when we're all old.

ATHENA I never thought about it like that. Guess I thought I was just doing my job.

ALEX Really?

ATHENA ... Yeah, why?

ALEX I don't know, I hear you every once in a while, when you're recording, and... you know how to talk. You a poet in your spare time, by chance?

[Athena laughs.]

ATHENA No, no, I'm... I don't know, I'm not anything in particular. I was corp security, for a while, and then I got into communications and chronicling protocol through that, and... yeah, that's me, if they didn't already tell you as part of the whole 'Commander' thing.beatI'm certainly not, uh, 'recogalex', though.

ALEX Okay, so you uh... know about that whole thing?

ATHENA 'Whole thing'? You mean when you were like... one of the biggest names in sporting sim gaming for years, plural? Yeah, I figured it out. Me and the others in the forces, we didn't really have anything else to keep up with, so we got very much into keeping up with those tournaments.

ALEX Alright, alright. Just thought I'd be able to keep my nerdiness a secret from my crew for a little while longer.

ATHENA Why bother? I mean, if I was as good as you at that stuff, I...realizing as she says itI never would've stopped.

ALEX I guess I just... the same as you. I thought of it as my job, after a while. It started as a way to help me cope with my anxiety, and then, I guess it turned out that I was good at it, and liked it. I liked it a lot.

But I got married, and then we were gonna have a kid, and-

ATHENA Wait, you're married?

ALEX I was. Me and Gabriel split up, a little while after our son, Orion, was born.

ATHENA Oh... that's too bad.

ALEX Oh, it's fine, really. Gabe's amazing, honestly, we both just... wanted different things out of life. It just wasn't working for us to be married anymore. Now we're friends. We're friends that used to be married, and friends that have a son that we love more than anything in the world. And I can't say I mind it, as long as I know they're both waiting for me back home.

ATHENA Wow. I mean, that sounds... that sounds like all you could hope for.

ALEX Yeah... yeah, I guess it is.

***

[sfx: forest ambiance]

MILES This is stupid. We haven't seen anything fly overhead since we got here.

FELIX Hey, hello, uh, you know the decree of the Game of Bird.

[C41′s BOOT UP JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 "They who question the sanctity of Bird will be disqualified from all future matches of Bird on the basis of disloyalty and heathendom," Miles.

FELIX And don't you forget it.

MILES I know, I know, for the millionth time, I know.

C41 Then don't go getting yourself disqualified.

MILES Hold on, was that... an encouragement?

C41 Of course not. I just like to see a good match-

MILES Okay, cause for a second there, it sorta sounded like a-

[sfx: bird caws]

FELIX BIRD! 

[sfx: a bell dinging cue]

C41 That's one point to the distinguished Couvillion gentleman.

MILES Please tell me you're not going to do that every time someone gets a point.

C41 Don't be silly! I'm not going to do it for you!

MILES Why do I even bother? It's not like-

C41 Shh. Eyes on the prize, er, sky. Whatever. Bird now, talk later.

MILES Fine.There's a long silence. 

[sfx: forest ambiance for a prolonged period]

[The three of them sigh at varying points.]

[sfx: bird song, a glitch, static]

FELIX Bir- rd?

MILES What are you talking about, there's nothing there!

C41 I mean, I'll still give you the point.

FELIX Sorry, sorry, I... eyes were playing a trick on me there.

[sfx: prolonged forest ambiance]

MILES Sooo... uh, this is getting boring fast.

C41 "They who question the sanctity of Bird-"

MILES Not what I meant! I just meant...

FELIX There does seem to be a disturbing lack of birds.

MILES Well... uh... we could play 'I Spy'.

FELIX No, no. We can't allow the shine to wear off that quickly.

[sfx: retrieving from a bag, clicks]

MILES I feel like binoculars are cheating.

FELIX Eh. Using available resources.

C41 Does it count as cheating if there aren't any birds to see?

MILES Okay, but if there were.

C41 But there aren't.

MILES Okay, but if one shows, he can like-

FELIX And it may not end up being worth the hypothetical, if our luck continues.

MILES Just making conversation.

[sfx: prolonged ambiance]

MILES So... how about this weather?

C41 Really?

MILES What? It's called small talk, ever heard of it?

C41 Sure I have. My sources tell me that it's nothing remarkable. In fact, that seems to be the whole point of it, yes?

MILES Well, I guess... not everything needs to seem 'remarkable' to be... worthwhile.

C41 Sure. Take yourself for example.

MILES You know what-

FELIX You know, I believe that might be a backhanded compliment, Officer Abbott.

C41 How dare you.

FELIX Meant nothing by it, my voltaic friend.

C41 Then you know what's good for you.

[Felix chuckles.]

MILES Yeah, right, tough guy.

C41 I'm sure I don't know what you mean. I can be intimidating, that is, when I'm not asleep in my-

FELIX Nest!

C41 What?

FELIX Nest. Up there, on your left, riiiight- There.The group's eyes land on a large nest in a nearby tree.

MILES You think there's any in there?

FELIX According to what I've learned, the season would be right for quite a few baby birds.

So, I mean, if there were... to be... lots of baby birds... I should probably get a closer look. For... research.

MILES And I could help with your research. I mean... I could help you count.

FELIX Oh, no, I mean that's uh...

It'll be quite the climb to get there, so I wouldn't ask you to-

MILES Pssh. What are friends for? You said earlier you weren't feeling so good, anyways, so like... I can go check on those birds. For science.

FELIX Oh, no, I feel fine, thank you. I think a climb might actually do me some-

MILES Here, you hold Cally. I'm climbing.

FELIX Good.

C41 Wait, what? Also, it's Cal.

MILES I'm gonna go see those birds.

[sfx: footsteps running off]

FELIX HEY! NOT FAIR.

You stay right here, Cal. I've got a tree to climb.

[sfx: footsteps running off]

C41 Well, it's not like I'm going anywhere- Wait, wait! Doctor Couvillion? Officer Abbott?! Felix? Miles? Oh, the Commander is going to be so mad at you!beat, meek...Guys?

[C41′s BOOT-DOWN JINGLE PLAYS]

***

[Alex and Athena laugh.]

ALEX No, no, you're kidding me. Stuck?

ATHENA Completely! Okay, okay, so you have to understand, Patroclus C? It's a freezing cold rock. A moon.

ALEX Nothing homey about it?

ATHENA No! No redeeming qualities! We used to call it the Snowball. So, so, so: there I am, and my sister is just screaming bloody murder with her tongue stuck to the side of the transport.

ALEX And did someone lose a tongue that day?

ATHENA Somehow, no! I had to run back to the house for hot water and leave her there, and I swear her tears were frozen to her cheeks by the time I got back and we managed to get her off the thing! God, it was awful. So the chilly mornings around here? They're nice.

ALEX And you've got the charming anecdotes to prove it, starshine.

Oh, is... is that okay? If I call you that? It's just... it came to me, and I thought it suited you. But if you don't like it-

ATHENA Oh! Oh, no, I... it's fine. I like it. It's sweet.

ALEX Okay. Okay, good.

I just figured, you know, it might... we're gonna be out here for a long time. I want to be friends with you guys, with... you. If that's what you... all want too.

ATHENA I think I'd like that, Alex. 

Can I ask you something?

ALEX Sure, if I can ask you something after.

ATHENA Oh?

ALEX Yeah, no, I had like... a question or whatever for you too, but you totally, uh, you go first.

ATHENA Okay. Sure. So, uh... here's the thing. How do you... how do you know how to find the course?

ALEX ... What?

ATHENA How do you know where we're going?

ALEX I thought you were military. They don't teach you the way-

ATHENA Not exactly. How do you know where we need to go?

ALEX Oh. Oh I... okay. I think I get it. Well, I... it started off as trial and error, right? Even when I was just picking up the patterns in my games, or anywhere else, I just would have to take what I saw and turn that inward into something I could say was the truth.

So when I had to start figuring out how pieces of the world and their patterns sorta... fit with other pieces of the world into a bigger conversation, it... I mean it wasn't easy. I don't even wanna say it was comfortable. But it was something I could be confident in, at least.

And, these days, if I don't feel confident in it... I mean, I don't feel confident in it all the time, that's actually what I should've led with. Because, like, how could I be? When things, patterns, don't add up sometimes, it feels like something is lying to me. But at least I've been doing this long enough, that I know that I don't have to trek back and learn the patterns from square one anymore. I can... take it in backwards steps.

I can seem like I'm confident in what needs to happen, and then maybe some part of me can take that little signal boost and make me feel confident. And then, if I feel confident, maybe I'll find the pattern I didn't know in the first place, and that'll feel enough like the truth to me. It'll be enough to get us by. To get me by.

But... that's just me. Sometimes I think everyone has a different way of listening for the truth, you know?

Is... is that what you were asking?

ATHENA Uh-huh. Your turn.

ALEX Okay, now, tell me the truth on this one, Romero: do you actually need to record all of those logs?

ATHENA I'm sorry?

ALEX Dude, do you have to actually do them, or is it just like your diary?

[Athena laughs.]

ATHENA Hey! What's that supposed to mean?

ALEX I mean, no judging-

ATHENA I'm the chronicler, sir, that's my job.

ALEX Alright, Officer, alright. I'll take your word for it. But if you ever wanna try out some new monologue material on something, or someone who isn't a comms, you know where to find me-

ATHENA Yeah, yeah, I'll keep that in-

[sfx: a tree branch breaking]

[Miles and Felix scream]

[sfx: a thud]

ATHENA (CONT'D) Mind. Should we be... running about this?

ALEX Running fast, Romero.

***

[sfx: forest ambiance, a campfire]

FELIX, MILES (in unison) Owwwwwww.

ALEX You two... are going... to be.. the death of me.

FELIX, MILES (in unison) Owwwwwwwwwwwww.

C41 Yeah, yeah 'ow'. Traitors.

ALEXHold still... for just a second.

FELIX Once more, with feeling?

MILES Sure. Why not?

FELIX, MILES (in unison) Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

ATHENA Officer Athena Romero recording. Still Day 28. Second first aid stop of the day. We had a tree incident. Or a gravity incident, involving a tree, I guess.

C41 You two are lucky you didn't break a leg. Or that I didn't get carried off by some dinosaur, leaving me there like that, Felix! How could you?

FELIX I... I... I'm sorry, I'm so weak-

ALEX Ah, save it, Couvillion. Not like you need your strength for much else. Speaking of which-

I'd like to propose a toast. To some time off, to finally making it to the rendezvous point where we await our booty, and to... I don't know, to no more falling out of trees, and no more backwards steps.

FELIX Here, here!

ATHENA Cheers!

MILES Cheers.

C41 Bon appetit.

ATHENA So, Cal, when can we expect for the shipment to get here?

C41 Oh, in about... three-

(distorted and ragged)

Four- three, three,- expect, no, three, seven, no, no, no expect, no, three, two, two- ERROR, retrieval denied, ERROR- ERROR, no, two three-

ATHENA Miles? Are they okay?

MILES Cally? Cal? What's wrong? Come on buddy, hello?

FELIX What is this?

MILES I don't know, they've never done this before, I-

[C41′s BOOT UP JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 Bon appetit! Sorry, you were saying? Oh, right, the shipment. Should be around three days.

MILES ... Cal? You... you okay? You weren't messing with your code again, were you?

C41 And if I was?

MILES Cal-

C41 Kidding, kidding. Joke, funny, haha. No, I wasn't, I swear. Probably just a brief malfunction, whatever it is you're talking about. I feel great!

MILES Okay. If... if you say so.

C41 But I am, like, suuuper tired, gee, I think I need some rest, okayeveryonegoodnightbutnotthetraitorswhoabandonedme! Kisses!

[C41′s BOOT DOWN JINGLE PLAYS]

ALEX I think that's the cue for everyone got some rest, huh? Sleep in tomorrow?

FELIX Oh, I'll drink to that.

ALEX Then let's go for lights out, booboo crew.

[sfx: retreating footsteps]

ALEX If you need to do a log, starshine, just make sure to put the fire out when you're finished, alright?

ATHENA Always do, Alex.

ALEX Yeah, you're right. You always do. Goodnight.

ATHENA

Goodnight.

[sfx: retreating footsteps]

ATHENA (CONT'D) You know, I... I don't even know if I have something I need to talk about tonight. I'm exhausted from the journey, and you already know all about that, HQ.

I don't know. Seems like trouble follows us wherever we go, but at least that's something to count on.

But like I said, I think I'm going to try something new tonight. I'm feeling inspired. Tonight, I'm just going to look up at the sky, and I think... I think I'm going to look for a pattern that feels true.

From Ophiuchus-22, this is Officer Romero, looking up, and signing off.

[sfx: bird song, a glitch]

***

ANNOUNCER Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast.

This episode, Looking Up, was written by Lauren Tucker, edited by Luka Miller, and directed by Jesse Smith, Zyrel Thompson and Lauren Tucker. It starred Jesse Smith as the voice of Athena Romero, Jackson Rossman as the voice of Miles Abbott, Luka Miller as the voice of Alex de la Cruz, Kaleb Piper as the voice of Felix Couvillion, and Pippa van Beek-Paterson as the voice of Cal. Original music by Julia Barnes, and sound editing by Tobias Friedman. Be sure to stay tuned to our feed for upcoming episodes from the new backpacking intergalactic adventure from Futuristic Trail Mix Productions. Enjoying the show, and want to give us a boost? You can support us by rating and reviewing us on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts, or telling a friend about us.

To follow the show and find transcripts, you can find us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram as @MicroCosPod. Questions, comments, and concerns can be emailed to us via [email protected]. Thank you for listening.

#Microcosmos #micro-cosmos #microcospod #microcos pod #micro-cosmos podcast #science fiction #sci fi #scifi #science fiction podcast #new podcast #podcast #podcasts #podcast reccomendation #audio drama

[jae-canikeepyou]

| bad boy | j.jh | sequel

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader genre: au t/w: slight violence and blood. a/n: a sequel was requested for this scenario & to be very honest i thought it’s best to leave as it was.. but who am i to turn down my lovely readers? 🥰 as promised, here it is! blame my lazy butt for procrastinating to post it. it’s not proof read too woohoo! 😂 anyway, enjoy! :3 ~j

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“...i’ll be happy to see you again.”

it was the only sentence that stuck into the back of your mind. a similar feeling to when you liked someone and his very existence wouldn’t just leave you alone. you thought you might go insane because every time you think of nothing at all, that dimpled smile of his reappears and your brain immediately sends all kinds of signals that maybe science couldn’t explain, let alone you.

the students who walked pass you and him had questionable stares. you were well aware that jaehyun was fresh from returning back to town; though according to him it only had been two years. even the faces of the neighbourhood gave scoffs and looks of disbelief; unconvinced that he had changed for ‘the better’. honestly people still avoided him— maybe it was due to the fact he wasn’t seen as often by day, only at dusk.. doing stuff that jaehyun himself chose not to remember.

coming out of the university, an annoying tug on the shoulder caused you to turn around to identify the doer, jolting you back to reality from your thoughts. however the tug was too familiar that you already knew who it was, even with eyes closed. he bugged you during training— though it was not in a bad way.

the regretful look on his face made you pinch his cheeks with his dimples as the support. he was one good-looking lad with now good intentions to help people. ever since that encounter with him at the alley, he never really left your side; stuck with you like glue. your parents joked about how he was as loyal as a golden retriever would be to his owner. he followed you everywhere and even if you didn’t mind, you had to remind him about boundaries.

and boundaries meant when he accidentally followed you to the toilet that one time.

leaving that aside, jaehyun smiled and this adorable puppy with chocolate eyes made you snap your fingers. “jaehyun, i told you not to stare at me like that.”

“why can’t i? i already told you you’re pretty.” he smirked, nudging a tease with his brows. “it’s worth staring at, even for a whole day.”

“uh-huh.” you hum in faux agreement. “and you told me that a month ago, which was after your friends broke my door. you’ve been calling me that nonstop.”

“it’ll approximately be thirty two- no, thirty three times i complimented you, today included.” jaehyun took your bag with him. as gentleman as it sounds, your own friends once had to pull your stuff away from him when he did the kind gesture the first time.

“hey, give it.” you attempted to retrieve it back when he raised it higher.

“maybe i’ll consider if you give me a kiss.” he poked his cheek, leaning into your face. you gave him a disgusted look before it turned out to be more so when he pointed his lips instead.

“in your dreams jaehyun.” you rolled your eyes, nudging him to leave the training centre.

you both spent the next two hours chilling at a local coffee shop, doing some recaps of what you learnt earlier. to your surprise, jaehyun was actually quite studious. it was a little difficult to approach him whenever you had questions. who knew that behind the acronym the townspeople gave him, ‘bad boy’, was a very hardworking and intelligent guy. sometimes you would think he was a real-life manhwa character, where he’d ace a test despite worrying over whether he’d flunk it.

on the bright side of jaehyun’s reputation to everyone, some students would arrive in crowds after your training; which was, how you’d call it, fanbase. they’d usually giggle to themselves and ask for a picture, but jaehyun declined their requests.

whilst at the café with chill jazz music playing, and despite feeling uneasy and worried for no reason at all, jaehyun sighed deeply, indirectly asking to call it a day— it was already 10 pm. every friday night, he’d go with you to the orphanage to read books to the children; or go along with them to give medical care with a stethoscope just to satisfy the curiosity of the kids.

jaehyun fumbled his bag to look for his keys. you waited for the lad, skimming through the university’s fountain and statue. you looked at the far distance, and the unease came back just when you thought it went away. “okay i got them. let’s go.” he tapped to us shoulders.

you soon hopped onto his car, fastening your seatbelt as you propped your arm onto the edge of the window rest. “tired? me too.” you heard jaehyun ask, his car keys clashing towards each other before being put onto its place.

“yeah i kinda am.” you lied, still having that uneasiness stuck in your chest. at the night you met jaehyun, you would say that the encounter with the screwed-up man traumatised you; the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the man’s grip onto your wrists left a bruise, jaehyun’s flirtatious moves to his favourite couple’s daughter.

“well, we can go to the riverside if that’s what you’re looking for. tell your parents we’ll visit the kids next week and that you’re on a date with me.” he started the engine, rubbing your head with the other hand as he began to drive.

“a date with you? i’ve got other priorities.” you eyed him with a grin.

“change it then. put me on your top 5 or something.” his proud giggles put a confused look on your face and his lips flattened quickly at your response. jaehyun hoped you at least felt butterflies, but maybe it hasn’t developed yet. “what? i gotta be on your list somehow.”

“oh wow jaehyun you’re really determined.” you soothed your temples and he just laughed. “fine, uh. top 10?”

“agh man i gotta work nine bars higher to be your top 1.” he faked a hiss, earning an airy scoff from you.

“you’re not gonna be my top 1. my mom and dad are. education’s second.”

“then third?”

“no. that’s my bunny’s place.”

“ugh bunbun’s before me.” he whined. “anyway i’m gonna be part of your top 5.”

the car turned to a much narrower road. jaehyun insisted it was the shortcut and that the longer way was going to take minutes. not like you wanted to assume highly of how he knew some paths, but maybe he had dealings or encounters before at 17 years of age. heck that was him in the past. he was different now.

he reached out to the stereo and made a few taps onto the touch screen, sliding his fingers to the side to maximise the volume. it was a playlist full of jazzy, chilling instrumental tracks to hype up the mood and taking your heads off of studying. you never really heard him sing before, but you knew he was a good one in just humming.

as you listened with the playlist he tuned in, your eyes stayed on the road for a good minute before the car’s side view mirror flickered with lights, catching your attention. to be exact, they were red laser lights.

was something there? or were you just tired?

you brushed it off, telling yourself continuously that it was a result of staying behind the laptop screen too long. jaehyun didn’t seem to notice so maybe it was really just you. the car finally reached a stoplight, you sighed heavily at its disappearance when you looked at the mirror of your side.

but then it flashed again.

as if you both were being followed.

jaehyun spotted your discomposure and the frequent shuffles in positions to find comfort of the seat. “y/n, need a break? wait a little because we’re almost there-”

“i- i think we’re being followed.” you find your palms clenching the sides of the seat, avoiding to look at the mirror again. the feeling you had that night at the dark alley came back; chest pounding and breaths so uneven. you didn’t tell jaehyun what you felt that night and kept it to yourself so of course he wouldn’t know of your situation now.

jaehyun’s brows creased inquisitionly, his pupils shifted to his side of the mirror in an instant. they grew wider at the sight of a familiar vehicle and logo that was overlapping the car brand. he thought he’d never see them once more, but unluckily he did tonight. he cursed in whispers and although he said it softly, those alone made your worries shoot up like rockets. the circular light emitted green. you felt your body being pressed back against the seat at the force and speed jaehyun drove. “we’re gonna have to skip the date and rush home, okay?”

he tapped the stereo’s touchscreen to mute the track that coincidentally matched the tension you both were feeling now. “you’re driving fast~” you said with your sarcastic singing. a hum from him raised a tad more worry. “why are you driving fast~”

he only chuckled.

“jaehyun, the only time you drive fast is when we receive an medical emergency!” you panicked in all high pitches your voice could ever give.

“uh- this is kind of an emergency y/n!” he still gave a giggle despite being in a frenzy.

“it’s not medical! we’re not in the ambo!” you huffed in excessive breaths to attempt to calm yourself.

“i know but-”

gunshot.

it wasn’t once.

it was five times at most.

you gasped then squealed, unsure whether to cover yourself with your forearms or still hold onto the seat. jaehyun pulled over the car to a stop, making you shiver and the feeling went down to your spine then palms while your grip tightened onto the seatbelt. you let the window on your side lower for some air. it might seemed strange to some people passing by, but you were muttering words as if you were enchanting a spell to summon the supernatural; where as in fact you were really, really scared.

at times like these, all you wanted to do was to head home and forget that this ever happened.

“why did you stop?” you asked, sounding panicky and jaehyun didn’t seem to do the same. “we’re being chased and you decide to-”

the scratch of the tire from the vehicle following you hit from behind, plunging both of your torsos to the front and stretched the seatbelts. your eyes blurred for second and as the clear began to come in, jaehyun signalled you to bend low. when you obliged and cowered down, he took off his jacket and placed it above you. “y/n, don’t get off the car. i got this.” you felt that he grabbed something from the drawer in front of him, later putting it in his pockets.

you hitched a breath. “w-why? where are you going?!”

“shhh.. if you did, i won’t forgive you.” he warned and closed the door.

“stop cutting me off!” you gave a little tantrum that you hit your head onto the pull-out drawer. “stupid jaehyun!”

you heard mumbles of exchanged dialogues between jaehyun and two late twenties men. the patience you’ve always had had run out and carefully your fingers pulled the door handle to head out. soon you found yourself tiptoeing and crouching all at the same time; just like how you used to sneak to the kitchen at midnight to grab some snacks. the air was cool, much to your surprise jaehyun and the two men were just, talking.

in the two weeks since knowing jaehyun, you hesitated in asking more of his past. not that you couldn’t tolerate the endless stares and whispers from the public, but you were just curious about the man who evolved to b.a.d boy. 

“jaehyun.” you whisper-yelled but there was no response from him. he had his hands behind him. though relaxed, there was tension shown in them. based on his gestures he knew of your presence. his hands formed to a ‘thumbs up’; turning sideways, telling you to head back into the car.

you had your palms onto the door handle when the conversation became clear to you.

“what're you both doing here?” he asked the two men, later their surnames revealed to be park and jang. “i thought i said i’m resigning.”

“you resigned before boss made his decision. he wants you back in the group.” park said, handing him an envelope. “accept this and you’ll get all you asked for; your own room at the base, the money from-”

jaehyun took the envelope and tore them to pieces. “i’m not going back to that life ever. knowing you lot, pisses me off up until now, you tried luring me into dirty money.”

it wasn’t like you wanted to get involved with jaehyun. it just seemed you were just caught in the wrong time and in the wrong moment. even that night in the dark alley. you mumbled and grumbled to yourself, profanities spoken internally that maybe you shouldn’t have heard something so private-

“then i could just guess you’re now using her for dirty money?” jang caught your collar and pulled you from behind the car. “you really think you could earn money without our help huh.”

“y/n, i told you not to come out.” he turned around so quickly that the scowl from his lips made you regret breaking that order. 

“who do we have here? jaehyun you seem to get yourself a hottie-” park walked closer to where you were.

“let me go.” you spat him, disgusted at their assumption. 

“let y/n go, she has nothing to do with this.” jaehyun grabbed your arm, putting you behind his large, broad frame.

“sure will, jung. but she has something to do with you.” park laughed, his hands reached for his pocket. jaehyun didn’t seem to see that, but you were aware where this might escalate to. you plunged forward that you were in front him, hugging him fully before your friend realized the frightful action.

bang. bang.

the tightness and uneasiness in your chest wasn’t the car chase nor the two men, nor the fired gunshots.

it was the men’s bloodlust for jaehyun.

they cursed and yelled as they left the scene, saying that they meant to shoot him, not you. it took a while for jaehyun to process what had happened. he looked down at your collapsing body, blood dampening his hands as he touched the wound to stop it from bleeding further. “y/n?.. y/n! stay with me, okay? don’t you dare close your eyes on me!”

he saw you attempting to caress his cheek with a pained smile before it turned emotionless. 

“y/n!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it had been exactly a week since you were shot, because of that jaehyun avoided you. people looked at ease when they saw you alone and you weren’t used to it. he would always be there every second of the day, either already buying you lunch or carrying your bag. not even your parents heard of him when after jaehyun brought you to your apartment. having parents work in the medical field sure was convenient.

the morning’s sun shone your room and you stood in front of your mirror, still in your pj’s. turning slightly to the side, you lifted the fabric to see the two sets of stitches just below the bra strap line. your mom knocked onto your door, smiling in relief at the sight of recovery. “breakfast’s ready.”

you smiled back, remembering the worries plastered on their faces. in most cases, a patient would want to see their parents once they came into the conscious. for you however, wanted to see jaehyun. “yeah i’ll be down soon.”

the smell of toast and hot chocolate smacked you in the nose and you started walking slowly down the stairs. your groggy eyes caught sight of the one you didn’t want to see. “ah, she’s awake.” your dad nudged the male. jaehyun looked up at the loft, his ears shading from pink to red. 

he gulped, and your dad laughed. “wow that was loud. chill jae, she’s walking down the stairs, not the aisle.”

“i didn’t think of that, sir.”

jaehyun got up from the dinning area to help you. his fingers felt the bandage wrapped around your torso and immediate guilt flushed his body. “y/n i-”

“don’t apologize. it wasn’t your fault.” you smiled and he flattened his lips, surprised that you knew what he was about to say. as you sat down, your parents were all dressed and ready for work. “i just got here and you’re leaving me alone?”

“that’s why we called jaehyun here. he lives just across the street. we’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

silence consumed the house once the door shut to a close. jaehyun rested comfortably on the chair with his arms behind his head. hungry as you were, you began to eat, cautious and carefully. you told yourself you should be used to having him around. however, it was today that you felt nervous. even his exhales got you on the edge. you tried to look at him, only to avert your eyes immediately when he caught you. “how’s the wound?” he asked.

“well i never thought i’d experience it myself before i’d treat actual patients.” you said, soon grasping the situation that you didn’t mean to put it directly at him. “ah i’m not saying this because i blame you for what happened-”

“i know, but.. you did treat me when i was shot.” jaehyun took a sip of his cup. “so your answer’s invalid.”

“you asked the damned question jaehyun!” you scoffed and slight stood from your chair.

jaehyun saw a brief shade of pale onto your lips and went beside you. you looked up to see him with eyebrows narrowed. “get up, i’m checking your wound.”

“my wounds are perfectly fine! mom just fixed it.” you angrily munched on your toast when he suddenly knelt on the floor, back facing you. “what the heck are doing?”

“i’m giving you a piggyback ride.” his hands gestured you to get on.

“what am i, five?” you ignored his offer.

“what are you, ms. stubborn? if you move now, you’ll widen the already opened incision.” he finally turned around to carry you and when he placed you on the sofa, he grabbed the first aid.

“this is so awkward.” you sat in front of jaehyun as you lifted your shirt. 

“not at all. i’m treating a stubborn patient who apparently is very cranky early in the morning.” he carefully cut the surgical tape and held his breath when he saw the two stitches from gunshot wounds onto your flesh. “look about this..”

you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t continue further and treated the wounds. “why are you blaming yourself?”

“because you got hurt.” he gently dabbed with a cotton. “when it was supposed to be me. i didn’t see that he already got it out and before i know it, blood was spilled.”

“but you didn’t pull the trigger.” you bent your head down.

“but i’m the cause why it triggered, okay?!” he raised his voice, making you flinch at his tone from behind. “i ran away from my past so that i could live a good one! yet it still haunts me and every where i go, i’m always caught in their web! it’s been like this! then when i met you, i was afraid and i knew that i’ll eventually put you in harm’s way. deep inside me, i saw it as a sign that being with you might protect me, that they wouldn’t do anything to me when you’re with me. then when the gun fired, there you were saving me from my mistakes and-”

you felt a heavy weight onto your head, teardrops dampening the nape of your neck. “i’m so sorry y/n..” 

“you really *coughs* are a bad boy.” you said so suddenly that jaehyun shot up. your coughs made him to kneel in front of you, checking if you were alright.

“what?” he asked.

“a baby and dumb boy.” you giggled through breaths and though it got him taken aback, he was assured, somehow. “did i ever blame you for the gunshots? did i say it was you who hurt me? i never thought of you as the guy everyone thought they saw two years ago. so why are you still sticking with the fact that i might change after that night? i know you grabbed a gun too, but you didn’t bring it out. if you ran away from the past that just means you’re willing move forward to the new. if you’re afraid of ever hurting me, i know fully that you’ll never do that.”

he sat onto the carpet waiting for your next words; like a golden retriever, you told yourself. “i was looking for you when i woke up and besides, when i took the bullet.. it’s kind of..” you paused. “..returning the favor for saving me too? if you were shot, it might ease the people who were judgmental of you but.. not me. i wouldn’t be able to sleep if that happened you know? like-”

you saw his torso moving closer to yours. it was brief, but you saw the warmest smile from his lips before he hugged you. his hands caressed your head as if he was doing it to a child. “ah.. so i topped first?” 

“ha?” 

“i was your top 1 after all.” he smiled that his cheeks formed those damned dimples. “you thought of me before your parents and bunbun.”

“n-no! i mean i-it’s normal, right? the last person i saw before fainting was you so i-”

jaehyun rather than listening to your excuses longer, he preferred to hug you before you catch his ear turning redder. when he let go of you, his eyes twinkled as if a shooting star reflected in them.

“y/n, do you know you’re extra pretty when you’re flustered?” he teased, going back to treating your wound.

dumbfounded, you scoffed at his easy-goingness. “do you know you’re extra flirty when you think i like you?”

“you don't like me?” he whimpered how a puppy would do.

“i don’t.” you replied so proudly.

“that’s so mean.” he began to take the scissors to trim off the extra strand of tape. “i compliment you all-” 

you closed the gap in between. “i love you.” you closed your eyes as you said the three words you planned not to tell him. 

jaehyun gasped but he smiled afterwards. “my dream’s granted already?”

“urgh don’t make me more embarrassed than i already am jaehyun! i hate it when you’re always having fun and-”

“i love you too.”

#nct 127 #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #nct #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun writings #nct writings #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun oneshot

[tracingdreams]

Daiya no Ace: The Dramas : Special Drama 2 - “Service Area, En Route” Part I of III

This is the second extended drama track from the Second Season drama CD.

As with the previous, it has the same extended cast and I have broken it into three sections which I will post separately.

Part I: Featuring Eijun, Furuya, Toujou, Kanemaru, Haruichi, Miyuki, Kuramochi, Maezono

Scene: The guys are on the team coach, going to an away game location. It seems like it’s some distance, as they stop at a service area. Furuya is asleep, so the first years leave him on the bus and go to explore the service station…

Translator’s Note: I was trying to figure out who was sitting by whom on this coach. The best suggestion I can make is Kanemaru next to Eijun, Toujou next to Haruichi, and Furuya across the aisle from Haruichi’s seat…probably on his own. But eh, if you have a better idea, let me know…

(The scene opens with dramatic music)

Eijun: First pitch. Let’s begin with the outside low pitch, taught to me by my shishou (Chris). Then, next, a high inside pitch. And then, the winning shot…

Kanemaru: Shut up, Bakamura! Be quiet, will you?

Eijun: Stop interrupting me, Kanemaaru! Just one more pitch and I’d have got them out in three strikes!

Kanemaru: That’s just your fantasy, though, right?

Eijun: Don’t be rude! This is the kind of training that every top-level athlete undertakes…it’s Image Training! Let’s call it ‘Ime-Tore’!

Kanemaru: Don’t go to the trouble of giving it a nickname! It just makes you even more annoying!

Toujou: We’re on a bus, you guys, so keep it down a bit, huh?

Kanemaru: Toujou? Oi, I was just telling Bakamura to tone it down!

Toujou: You were being pretty noisy yourself though, Shinji.

Kanemaru: The mummy hunter became the mummy, huh (Translator’s note: This is a Japanese saying which basically means you began trying to stop something or persuade someone and then ended up doing it or being persuaded yourself. I included it because it’s cute. If weird.)

Eijun: (loud laughter) You’ve done it now, huh, Kanemaru!

Kanemaru: (annoyed): It’s your fault, dammit! (I think he hits him, it sounds like it).

Haruichi: Hey, hey, you’re getting rowdy again!

Eijun: Harucchi? But this bus is our baseball club’s private bus, right? There are only club members travelling on it.

Toujou: But some of the senpai are asleep, you know, Sawamura.

Eijun: Ah…when you’re scolded by Toujou, I feel like somehow you just have to obey…

Toujou: Not to mention, much closer…Look

Eijun: Huh?

(There is the sound of soft snoozing. It’s the Polar Bear in hibernation Furuya taking a nap)

Kanemaru: Furuya. He’s really asleep, isn’t he.

Toujou: Even though Sawamura was making such a ruckus so close by. It’s amazing he’s able to sleep like that.

Haruichi: Afternoon naps are pretty much like a hobby to Furuya, that’s why.

Kanemaru: It’s been a long time since we had an away game like this. Isn’t he even a little bit nervous?

Haruichi: I wonder what kind of team we’re going to be facing.

Eijun: I’m going to carve the name ‘Sawamura Eijun, the Flaming Southpaw’ into all the powerhouse high schools across the nation!

Haruichi: We’re only playing one match today, though.

Kanemaru: It’ll be good if you don’t just completely go down in flames.

Toujou: Oh, it seems like the bus has stopped!

Eijun: Have we finally reached enemy territory? What kind of place is it! (he looks out of the window). Woah! Look at how many cars there are parked up outside!

Haruichi: Ah…Eijun-kun, this is…

Eijun: As I thought, power-house schools are on a different level…wait, this is a service station!

Kanemaru: Stop jumping the gun. It’s just a break stop.

Eijun: I really thought we’d actually arrived…this strong man, Sawamura, doesn’t require a break! Driver! Please set off again immediately!

Kanemaru: Hey, stop trying to decide everything on your own like that!

Toujou: It’s good to have a chance to move around for a bit.

Haruichi: That’s true. It’s not good for the body to just be sitting still like this.

Eijun: Ah, I know about this. It’s “Ecology Syndrome”, right? If you sit in the same position for a long time, it compresses your blood vessels! That thing!

Haruichi: Eijun-kun, it’s ‘Economy Syndrome’.  (Translator’s Note: Economy as in Economy Class on an aeroplane, the idea of blood clots etc forming if you’re travelling in a compact space for a long time. Eijun as usual has his words mixed up.)

Toujou: Your version sounds like it’d be good for the planet, though.

Eijun: Ah…such a sweet faced comeback…

Kanemaru: How is it you messed up the name when you know the effects just fine?

(At that moment, their conversation is interrupted).

Kuramochi: Hey, first years! Hurry up and get off the bus!

Eijun: Ah, Kuramochi-senpai!

Kuramochi: Make sure you get a proper break, huh? After we leave here, it seems like we won’t be making another stop for a while.

Eijun (it sounds like he salutes) Orders understood!

Maezono: Oi, Kominato. Make sure you say something to Furuya, snoozing away over there.

Haruichi: Yes, Zono-senpai.

Maezono: Right, then we’ll go on ahead.

(The two second years leave).

Kanemaru: Those two…they have a really good way with managing us kouhai, don’t they?

Toujou: Yeah. They’re senpai that we can rely on.

Eijun: But in comparison, that Captain…

Miyuki: Did you just say something, Sawamura?

(Of course he was right there listening).

Eijun: Waaaaaaaaaah! Miyuki Kazuya! Why are you here?

Miyuki: We’re travelling on the same bus, so obviously I’m gonna be here? Hurry up and go take a break, okay? There’s not a lot of time for this stop, after all.

(He leaves)

Eijun: Woah, he startled me.

Kanemaru: Sawamura, at least learn to use keigo a bit, huh?

Toujou: Come on, let’s hurry up and go take a break.

Haruichi: Ah, hang on a second. I’m going to wake Furuya. Furuya-kun, wake up! (He tries shaking him).

(The sleeping continues).

Haruichi: Hey, Furuya-kun? We’ve stopped at a service station! Let’s go take a break?

(Sleeping continues).

Toujou: Ah. He’s not showing any signs of waking up, is he..?

Kanemaru: It can’t be helped. Let’s leave him here to restock his energy levels.

Haruichi: Yeah, let’s do that. It sounds like this away game will have him as starting pitcher.

Eijun: (Cackles): Carry on sleeping like this, Furuya. If you’re asleep, then that starting pitcher slot will become mine!

Haruichi: Eijun-kun, you have a horrible look on your face right now!

Furuya (Sleepily): I won’t give up the mound to anyone.

Kanemaru: Hey, is he awake after all?

Eijun: Huh, was he just pretending, like a tanuki?

(the sleeping continues).

Haruichi: It seems like he was just talking in his sleep.

Kanemaru: That guy…is he pitching in his dream as well?

Toujou: Furuya’s attachment to the mound is extremely strong, that’s why.

Eijun: I’m not going to lose to him! I won’t slack off on my focus or my Image Training!

Haruichi: Eijun-kun. What are you doing, declaring war on a sleeping opponent?

Eijun: Harucchi?

Toujou: Come on. Let’s go join the others and take our break.

Kanemaru: Yeah, let’s do that.

Haruichi: Mm. We’ll have no time otherwise.

(they leave).

Eijun: Hey wait! I’m coming too!

(To be continued…)

Disclaimer: There was one word Eijun yelled that I couldn’t make out quite clearly so I approximated based on the rest of the sentence around it. I don’t think it impairs the translation any but there you go. 

Eijun yells a lot and it can be hard to make out words when he goes off on a tangent.

#Daiya no Ace #Ace of Diamond #Season II #Drama CD #Track 2 #Translation #Drama Translation #Sawamura Eijun #Furuya Satoru #Kanemaru Shinji #Toujou Hideaki #Kominato Haruichi #Kuramochi Youichi #Miyuki Kazuya #Maezono Kenta #Furuya can sleep through anything

[alexthepartyman]

Fine Line

Chapter Two: Hold it, focus.

“I was teaching an in-serivce at the Baltimore field office when this came in,” Derek tells us as we walk through the house. “Baltimore PD’s seen some pretty grisly stuff, but never anything like this. We got two bodies ID’d as William and Helen DiMarco.” I look around, the house seems very antiqued. “Retired, lived here for thirty-seven years, no kids.Neighbourhood reports a white male, twenty to forty years old, fleeing the scene, and I quote, hopped up on those damn drugs.” 

“Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable.” 

“So far, it sounds like a standard double homicide. Why are we here?” Aaron asks as we walk up the stairs and into the master bedroom. I note the blood smeared on the walls. 

“Massive overkill.”

“You don’t say.” 

“Helen DiMarco was found here, tied to the chair in front of the vanity. No defensive wounds. Ligature marks around the wrists, one clean lacertation from ear to ear.” 

“She was either too weak or she knew she wouldn’t make it,” I comment. “But that is a weird amount of overkill.” 

“Looks arterial. Probably the carotid,” Elle says. “At least she went quickly.” 

“The husband, William, was found in the shower. But he wasn’t quite as lucky.” I look into the bathroom, noticing the shower floor covered in blood, dried blood splattered on the glass sides and door. Yikes, it looks like the aftermath of the shower scene from Psycho. This amount of blood outside of a human body makes me nervous. “Ligature marks on the wrists and ankles and one long laceration up the abdomen through both layers of muscle.” 

“Evisceration - that’s typical of disorganised behaviour.”

“Despite all the blood, this crime scene shows method, order, control. I’d say it’s pretty organised.”

“There was also evidence of torture with the husband. Burns, contusions, lacerations. You name it, this guy tried it.”

“If torture is the unsub’s signature, the methodology is usually unique. A person who burns someone usually doesn’t use a knife.” 

“So maybe he have more than one killer, or we have one killer with more than one personality,” Aaron says. 

“We also have three victims. Blood on the vanity, wife’s body was found there, husband was in the shower. From the looks of the level of the ring in this tub, whoever was in it lost thier entire blood volume.” 

“I’d say that about all of the victims,” I add, peering into the bathtub. 

“Approximately ten point six pints.” 

“Which means the victim was dismembered.”

“Pints?” I ask. 

“It looks like our guy took all the parts with him.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, so I’ve got Helen DiMarco tied to the chair,” Derek says. “He probably killed her first.”

“To prove to the others that he had no mercy. Psychological torture before the physical pain.”

“Only there was no satisfaction from her death.”

“The death was too quick. Arterial, jugular, trachea, she died within seconds, especially with a cut like that.” I answer. 

“The husband...with him, he took his time. There doesn’t seem to be any wasted effort, no hesitation on the unsub’s part. I mean, Gideon, look around. What he did...it’s a lot of work. We’re either dealing with a professional or -”

“A pure psychopath.” Uncle Jason stares blankly at the bloody shower. “Nothing more we can do here until the third victim turns up. I’m guessing there’s a connection to him.” 

“He doesn’t want that victim identified.” 

“Have Garcia go through open files in Maryland, see if any of the involve this level of torture.”

“Got it.” 

“Have her check the surrounding states as well. If...the guy’s a pro, why do jobs only close to home?”

“How far back do you want her to go?”

“At least ten years. Guy’s no rookie,” Uncle Jason answers, walking out of the bathroom. 

“Where is he going?” I ask.

“I don’t know, kid, but you should stick around here.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Third victim was positively ID’d as a low-level mob guy,” Derek reports. “Frederick “Freddy” Condore. He was the nephew of the older couple. Body parts were found in seven different trash cans two blocks from the crime scene.”

“Were they able to completely reassemble the body?” Spencer asks. 

“Killer didn’t keep any trophies.” 

“Is there any evidence he got off?”

“No.”

“Garcia has a number of unxolved murders in DC, Virginia, and Maryland over the past fifteen years. Many of them have ties to organised crime, all different MOs.” 

“What’s the connection?” Elle asks. 

“Torture. Marks on the ones are consistent with the same cutting tool.” 

“Tortured victims, most tied to organised crime...no signs of sexal sadism.” 

“Hitman,” I answer. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re looking for a hitman.” 

“No, a hitman doesn’t need to torture to get the job done.”

“Two things - Baltimore just forwarded a sketch of the man running from the scene, and uh, you’ve got some agents out there who think you’re poaching on their turf,” JJ cuts in, hanging Jason a sketch. 

“I’ll handle it.”

“Doesn’t federal trump over local?” I ask, looking up from my book again. 

“Come on, we’ll set you up in my office,” JJ offers, grabbing my backpack.

“Why?”

“Because you’re gettin distracted from your school work, and Aaron said you can’t be here if you can’t get your work done.” 

“JJ, I can do my work, I promise,” I tell her. Kids don’t steal my assignments and cheat off of me for nothing, you know. 

“So, we just going to drop it?” Derek asks as Jason comes back and approaches the whiteboard. I slip my bookmark in place and put my book away. 

“These guys don’t know what they’re dealing with.”

“Our unsub is male, intelligent, organised, and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who’s been killing for a long time. Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore, indicating some tie to him. Elle, you and Reid stay on Condore’s background with Garcia. Dig deep, see what turns up.”

“Condore worked as a supervisor at a scrap metal yard in Baltimore. It’s owned by a guy named Michael Russo, boss of a small mob crew. I’m gonna grab Hotch and go check him out. Jamie.” I nod and throw my bag over my shoulder, jumping from my chair. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Michael Russo?” Aaron asks. “Agents Hotchner and Morgan, FBI. This is our intern, Rossi.” 

“What do you want?” Michael asks.

“Freddy Condore.”

“He didn’t show up for work today. He didn’t call, nothing.” Well...you can’t exactly make a phone call when your body is divided between seven trash cans. 

“Probably because he, his aunt, and his uncle were murdered last night,” I state. 

“Really? Too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I can tell you’re all busted up about it.”

“Look, I don’t speak smart-ass, so you got something to say to me…”

“It was a professional hit. Either you’re in charge of your business or you’re not.” 

“What kind of business do you think I’m in, huh? Look around. I’m in scrap metal. It’s all about recycling. That’s where the money is, my friend. Saving the earth.”

“You’ve got a big problem. You know, the mob isn’t what it used to be.”

“Ain’t easy always fighting for respect, is it?” Derek steps closer to Michael. “You always gotta fight for what’s yours. One of your boys steps out of line, tsk, tsk, tsk. You hit him hard, you make it count, right? Is that what happened to Freddy?” The man chuckles.

:Look. You got a case to make, run along, get your papers, and come back with the bracelets. Otherwise, I got a business to run.” The two men walk away from us.

“They don’t dress scrap metal,” I retort.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Derek kicks the door in, and he and Aaron storm in, guns pointed. “CLEAR!” Aaron yells. 

“Copy that.” 

“It’s clear here.” 

Aaron and Derek holster their weapons. “Morgan, this is weird. There’s nothing here.” I step into the room and look around, finding a barren home. “It’s like nobody lives here...guess he wasn’t expecting company.” 

“Something’s wrong?” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Look at this place. It’s an artifical dwelling...to match an artifical past.” We start searching through everything, and I hear Derek tapping on a wall, before a loud thud. 

“Derek, what the - what the fuck? Why did you punch that?” I ask, peering up from the other side of the oven. 

“Hotch!”

“Yeah?” 

“We got a hot weapon. Jamie, get back.” Derek gently pushes me away as Aaron approaches us. He pulls out a towel and sets it on the stove, unwrapping it to reveal a gun and a cartridge. “Oh, no.” 

“What? What is that?” I ask.

“It’s a Glock nineteen. And this round is standard law enforcement issue.”

“So you’re saying Baker’s an undercover cop.”

“I’m saying I did eighteen months deep cover, and this place has got all the makings of a crash pad.”

“That does make a lot of sense. You can tell a lot about a person by how they decorate their house and if you just have nothing...then they can’t figure you out.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” A guy with a yellow tie bursts in, slamming the door behind him, I can hear him over my music.

“Sorry?”

“I told you, this is my case!” 

“Alright, first of all, don’t shout at me,” Aaron says, rising to his feet behind his desk. I sneakily pause my screamington playlist so I can hear this whole thing. “And secondly, you don’t decide what cases the BAU works on.”

“You ran my agent’s gun through IBIS?” I look out of my periphreal and see Uncle Jason standing outside the office door with files in his hands. 

“Cause I wanted to know who he worked for, and now that I do, I’d like to talk to him.” 

“You don’t have him.”

“No. You don’t know where he is?”

“He’s missing,” the man says, sitting down by me and sniffling. Uncle Jason opens the door and lets himself in, closing it afterwards. 

“How long?”

“Twelve hours.” 

“Before or after the murders?” I look back to my book, scanning the words to pick up where I was.

“You think Jimmy’s a suspect?” 

“Well, there’s a sketch of someone who looks an awful lot like him leaving the scene.” 

“That’s because he was there. After. Look, he ran into a couple of Baltimore detectives, and they made him while he was with Condore. Now, Jimmy tried to play it off, but he didn’t think that Condore had bought it, so he wanted to  go back and talk to him. When he saw what was left of the DiMarcos, he called us for a pickup. We showed up. He didn’t.” 

“You think he ran?” Aaron asks.

“No. Jimmy’s too experienced to run without contact.” Contact, contact, contact, con...con...con-tact. No, that can’t be it. Con-ca...that sounds even worse. “If he’s not calling in, then someone’s keeping him from doing it.” 

“Who’s Jimmy Baker’s target?” Uncle Jason asks. 

“Michael Russo. We’ve been after the guy for three years. Jimmy’s been under for almost two.” 

“We talked to Russo yesterday. He seemed genuinely surprised by the murders.”

“And you bought that? Let me tell you a little something about Michael Russo. The guy is a liar, and a good one. If he didn’t do it, then he knows who did. Oh hell, you know what? I’m wasting my time with you. You obviously don’t get it.”

“Agent Cramer, we’re not the enemy. Please sit down,” Jason says, blocking the door. Agent Cramer sits at Aaron’s desk, and Jason joins him. “We;re dealing with a very dangerous killer here...and we need your help. You know these people better than we do.” 

“This guy - if he is what you say he is and he has Jimmy, did he kill him already?”

“We don’t know.”

“I’ll help you in any way that I can. You help me get this man back to his family.” I pull off my headphones and put my book away again, grabbing my bag to go hang out with someone else.

“If it’s any comfort, Agent...I knew he was lying. They didn’t dress scrap metal,” I say, before walking out of the office.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re gonna need a bigger board,” Penelope says, bringing in a cardboard box. 

“Please tell me you brought some breakfast.”

“Huh. Trust me, sugar, you’re not going to want to eat when you see what’s in here. What is Jamie still doing here, I thought he had school?” Penelope asks, turning to me.

“Two day weeks for the rest of the month. Doctor wants me to take things slowly,” I answer. 

“This place is not slow, Jamie. You should be staying home with your dad.”

“He thinks it’s good that I get out. As long as I’m with one of you guys, I’m fine.” 

“How many more are there?” Derek asks Penelope. 

“Well, I’ve gone back fifteen years, and there’s over a hundred.” 

“A hundred unsolved murders?”

“Yeah, that we know of. And then there’s more coming in.”

“I can help bring in boxes,” I offer.

“Sorry, little noodle. You have to focus on school, and you can’t do any heavy lifting.” I pout at Penelope, who ruffles my mop of hair. 

“Torture’s consistent. You know, we thought this guy might have been at it a while, but this many victims, Garcia?” Derek sighs. “John Wayne Gacy killed at least thirty people. This guy’s more than tripled that.”

“Yeah, but this guy gets paid for it. He’s a hit man.”

“No...he’s more than that. Not all these victims were mob hits. You know, my guess is that he started hunting when he was really young...perfected his craft...moved on to bigger prey. Garcia, look at this, there’s no hesitation in the wounds, one clean cut through flesh and bone.” 

“Okay, so what does that tell us?”

“Most people wouldn’t imagine doing something like this to another human being, but this guy, he doesn’t even flinch. He’s got no conscience.” 

“Is that psychopathy or sociopathy?” I ask. 

“Sociopath. We’ve got ourselves a serial killer with the perfect career. Russo has no idea what he’s dealing with. I think we can shake him. Keep looking. Jamie, stay with Penelope and do your work.” He says, ruffling my hair and walking out of the room.

“Do I really get that distracted that easily?” I ask. 

“Yeah, you do.” My phone beeps and I peer at it, finding a text from Cal. “Give the phone. Ooh! A text from a boy!” 

“Penelope!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is this gonna work?” Elle asks.

“The beam is reflected off the pane according to the law of optics.” 

“Yeah, the angle of instance is equal to the angle of reflection.”

“Uh-huh. Is it gonna work?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“We’re gonna find out right now,” I comment.

“I need to see you tonight. I’ll call you from a secure line.”

“Apparently, it does.”

“Hey. Listen, you brought a lot of heat taking down Freddy like that...What - I’m dealing with the feds...Listen, meet me here at the office...they don’t know nothing...I’m dealing with them...stop being paranoid, Vinnie…”

“Bingo.”

“No. Vinnie.”

“Look for either VIncent or Vincenzo. Mob members are usually Italian, so focus on names of Italian origin...and keep it around Baltimore, look for a rap sheet indicating sociopathy to this level,” I ramble. 

“Well, he’s got eleven associates named Vincent,” Spencer says, collecting files. 

“No, make that ten. Vincent Cellito died last summer,” Elle corrects him. “You know, here’s something. What can you tell me about Vincent Sartori?” Elle then gives Penelope a look of surprise. “I was still drinking that.”

“Not only is this equipment expensive, it’s also extremely sensitive.”

“Don’t leave your coffee on the files next time,” I reprimand her. 

“Vincent Sartori.” 

“Currently doing six at Dannemora for racketeering.” 

“How about this Perotta? There’s not much on him.”

“Can you get into those records?” Elle asks Penelope. 

“Despite the fact that they were probably expunged, she can find the faintest echo of deletion and successfully re-create the file, thereby sending us all to prison for computer felony fraud counts.”

“We can make bail. Garcia?”

“Already in. Alcohol addiction at fourteen. Violent outbursts. Assaults. Once threw a molotov cocktail at someone sitting in their car.” 

“That sounds like a party,” I comment, not looking up from my book.

“Several notations for aggression. He once scheduled a visit to an infirmary to gain access to a boy who looked at him for too long?” 

“No hear, no remorse. Quick temper. And he was smart enough to stay off the radar as an adult. Paranoid personality. He could be our guy.” 

“There’s absolutely no information on him as an adult. No driver’s license, no utility bills, nothing. It’s like he became a ghost.” 

“Let’s just hope that they can catch them.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This was all in his van?”

“Yep. The guy wasn’t exactly neat.” 

“Classic anti-social personality.” 

“What are these tapes?” I ask. 

“I don’t know. Why don’t Reid and Garcia take a look, let us know, alright?”

“Yeah. Movie night. I’ll make popcorn.” 

“I’m gonna join movie night,” I comment. “I’m not innocent, Derek, and I don’t need to tell you how.” 

“You’re twelve.”

“Fourteen. In case you haven’t forgotten, I’m not like the other kids, either.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see an image from Jasmine, a drawing of us and our friends. 

“Is that the boy?” Penelope asks.

“No,” I remark, typing back a quick ‘looks awesome!’ before tucking my phone away again.

“A boy?” 

“Derek! It’s not a boy!” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You got that address?”

“In Glen Burnie like you thought.”

“Yes.” 

“It looks like Frank Perotta died in a suspicious hunting accident with Vincent, he was seventeen, it was like, thirty years ago.” 

“My guess is that it was no accident.”

“Well, you said he was looking for bigger prey, and it looks like he found it.” 

“Garcia...you’re my girl. Thank you. Jamie, keep it up, get ready for school. It’s Thursday morning.” Derek kisses her head and then leaves, closing the door to the cave behind him.

“I’m gonna need, like, five energy drinks to get through today,” I groan, throwing my head back and taking a light spin in the chair. 

“What are you even doing on my system?”

“Helping. I heard you say Frank Perotta and I just...did it. I’m gonna head to the bathroom, try to look like I haven’t been awake for the past three days. Gym class first thing in the morning fucking sucks ass.” I tell her, kissing her head and walking out of the cave with my bag on my shoulder. I stop at the glass doors to the bullpen, watching as officers take a man away in handcuffs, before stepping into the bullpen and heading to Derek’s desk, nicking his 3-in-1 from his go bag. 

“Why are you stealing Derek’s...soap?” Elle asks me from her desk. 

“Is he coming yet?” I ask.

“He’ll be a few minutes. What are you doing?”

“I was going to use the gym showers so I don’t go to school and people think I live in a cardboard box and then hitch a ride to school from Grant, but if you’ve got better ideas-”

“Come shower at mine and tell your dads.” 

“I only have the one dad.”

“You mean Hotch and Gideon aren’t your dads, too?” She jokes. “Just come on, I’m headed home, anyways, I’ll take you to school.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist. Besides, Grant and Spencer are probably going to want some time alone.” I sigh and pull out my phone as Elle grabs her things. 

“Hey, Dad, so I’ll be home tonight...I’m getting ready at Elle’s house this morning...the case just ended…”

“Make sure you eat, and tell Aaron and Jason where you’re going. How long was the case?”

“It started Monday morning, and I’m so...I’m gonna need a nap when I get home, we had to deal with the mob in Baltimore, and… I slept, I promise, I’ll make Elle get me an Egg McMuffin or something.”

“Alright, piccolo, just make sure you’re taking better care of yourself. I left yesterday to go to another signing, so go home after school and feed the dogs, and if you need a ride home, call one of yourr brothers or the BAU. And get a decent night’s sleep.” 

“I will. I love you, Dad, I’ll see you next week.” I hang up and put my phone in my pocket and climb into the passenger seat of Elle’s car. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t eat breakfast. Something’s wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong!”

#adoptedbydavidrossi #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds

[marshmallow-phd]

The Sound of the Rain

Genre: GreekMythology!AU, Modern!AU, Orpheus!AU, Reincarnation!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

A/N: This random spark of creativity was inspired by this amazing moodboard made by @amaxing-daes. I hope you don’t mind! 

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Day: 1,095,036

He wasn’t sure why he kept count anymore. It’s not like he was counting down to anything. Or up. Did an end really exist for a cursed immortal?

Three thousand years was a long time to walk the earth, to watch it change and evolve. Regular mortals would complain about wanting to go back to the “good old days”. Little did they know there was no such thing. Every decade and every century had its monstrosities that made the ones having to live through wish they could go to another time. It was one of the few things that never changed.

Yixing’s fingers danced across the piano, softly pressing on the keys and letting the notes piece themselves together however they saw fit. He hardly ever thought about arrangements anymore. Reflections would simply formulate in his head and then he’d let the magic flow through to whichever instrument he’d picked up at the time. Sometimes it would be about things that made him angry, sometimes nature itself would be enough to spark his creativity. In the present moment, his most frequent inspiration was plaguing his mind.

Even after all these years, his wife – the one taken from him too soon, the one who he almost had back in his arms if he hadn’t been such a failure – still haunted his dreams. He could say that some of his most beautiful pieces were created because of her, but all the awards and recognition in the world couldn’t replace the hole in his heart.

“Wow, Lay, could you get more depressing?”

Yixing smirked to himself. Lay. It was his latest pseudonym. In retrospect, maybe it was a little silly, but at the time he thought it fit right in with the other music producers in this modern age. One of his frequent collaborators went by “Loey” after all.

Now interrupted, Yixing stopped playing and turned off the recorder that was resting on top of the piano before turning around to face his partner. “Not everything needs to be a dance number, Han.”

“But you’re good at those.” Han motioned back with his head. “Come on. That popstar is here and she wants to listen to the demo.”

“Okay.” Standing up from the bench, Yixing pocketed the recorder and followed Han out of the practice room towards the studio. He frowned once they entered the small workspace.

Shia, the latest sensation exploding on the world pop scene, was sitting in Yixing’s chair, sporting the most sour look on her face. Perhaps she thought she was above this listening schedule. Or maybe she got into an argument with her boyfriend. Whatever the reason for her attitude was, Yixing really wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.

Let’s just get this over with.

Sitting down in one of the less comfy chairs, Yixing introduced himself, shook hands with the managers and other producers for Shia’s album and turned to the soundboard to start the song.

If Yixing had to rate this song, he’d only give it a seven. He was always harsh on his own music, but this one just came out a little… well, he didn’t know how to describe it. He was still proud of it – he was with a majority of his creations – he just felt a little lackluster about music in general lately. Over the centuries, it’d been the one thing that kept him going after losing his wife. Maybe it was the way music had changed that was making him lose interest. Or maybe it was just himself that was changing. The will to keep going was certainly starting to fade.

Somewhere around the first bridge, Yixing’s confidence grew, just a miniscule amount, but he knew this song was good. The kind that would make everyone cheer and get up to start dancing The managers and producers were bobbing their heads, listening intensely as the song headed into the chorus. Yixing himself sang the demo since no one else seemed to be able to pick up on the rhythm.

When the song ended, everyone turned to Shia to take in her reaction. The pursed lips never relaxed and she never uncrossed her arms throughout the approximate three and a half minutes.

“I don’t like it,” she finally stated after a minute or so of silence.

Her manager sighed, looking as frustrated as Yixing was beginning to feel. “And why’s that?”

“This isn’t the music that I signed up for,” Shia snapped. “I don’t want to sound like everyone else.”

“This doesn’t sound like everyone else,” Han argued. “A song by Lay is always one of a kind. This will put you on the charts where you belong. You said you wanted to make it to the Grammy’s-”

Shia scoffed. “Do you really think this song about how great life is and how much fun you can have is going to get me to the Grammy’s? I want a song with meaning. I have plenty of dance tracks to release as singles. Do I look like I want to be the next Britney Spears?”

Yes. Yixing held his tongue. He’d seen her interviews and her music videos. As judgmental as it could sound, she did, indeed, seem to be going down the dancing popstar route. He’d never seen her pick up a guitar and strum out a heartbreaking ballad with lyrics so deep they took the listener to another time in their life. She never talked about music like it was her life and soul. If that was the kind of artist she wanted to be, then why did she sell out?

Suddenly feeling a little hypocritical, Yixing stood up and walked out of the room.

“Lay, wait!” Han stopped him just before he could escape out the front doors. Putting a hand on his shoulder, Han sighed. “Don’t take that punk’s word to heart. It’s a good song. Plenty of other artists will want to take it.”

Yixing shook his head. “At this point, I don’t really care. I’m getting too old for this.”

Han chuckled. “If it were anyone else, then I would argue that statement. But since it’s you….”

That made Yixing laugh. Yes, Han knew… maybe not the entire story, but he knew most of Yixing’s history. And it was a complete accident how he found out.

For over three thousand years, he’d been able to keep his own secret. But one night when Han was over, Yixing had a little too much to drink and started blurting out everything. Han didn’t believe him at first, but then out came the portraits and pictures and hundreds of diaries that Yixing had kept over the years. He felt a little lighter now, having someone to share his secret with. While Han had made comments here and there that almost gave him away, everyone pretty much took them as jokes or metaphors, keeping him safe from any odd experiments scientists might want to put him through. It wasn’t science that made him what he was, so he doubted they would find anything out anyway.

“I just need some air.” Yixing slipped out from under Han’s hand and pushed through the glass door that led to the sidewalk outside.

He didn’t know where he was headed, if he was going towards a certain something at all; he just knew he needed to be away from the studio for a while, let the others hash it out if she wanted it or not. There was nothing in him that really cared. Han was right; someone would take the song if she didn’t.

It was nice outside today. Most of the time, Yixing didn’t know what the weather was like. He nearly always dressed in the wrong kind of clothes: a t-shirt when it was freezing, a leather jacket when it was boiling hot. This time, however, he lucked out. The temperature wasn’t too bad, making him comfortable in the black shirt and matching jeans he was sporting. Blue was the only color in the sky, save for the blinding sun. No clouds covered up the beautiful wonder above him. But that work of nature’s art almost distracted him to a dangerous level.

Your head was down towards your phone when you passed him, nearly making him miss you as he was staring up at the sky. But enough was captured in the corner of his eye to make his heart jump in his chest. He knew that hair. He knew that jaw and shoulder and ear. He knew you.

Could it really be? Could he really have just stumbled upon a second chance?

Fighting through the crowd on the sidewalk, Yixing hurried to catch up with you. He needed to make sure that it was the same face.

Several feet ahead of him, you turned into a coffee shop. Okay, good. He could catch up to you there. But just as he approached the large window that made up a majority of the front wall, his heart sank.

You weren’t just stopping in to get a fresh cup of coffee and then going about your day. You were meeting someone. A particularly handsome someone who stood up and greeted you with a hug as soon as he spotted you. You were smiling and laughing, happy to be in his presence. Realizing that he had been ridiculous to follow you in the first place, Yixing turned around and headed back towards the studio.

The place was empty when he got back. It was quiet, which was exactly what he needed at the moment. No sample beats thumping in the speakers, no drum sets being pounded on, no pitch tuning being done. Just peace and quiet. And he even had his chair back, although a small amount of glitter was left behind.

Covering his face with his hands, Yixing leaned forward as he sat down and tried his best to keep his breathing normal. It had to be the same person. Not the exact same, but your new incarnation. Your face was the same, your smile, your gracefulness. There you were right in front of him. All this time he’d been alone, unable to numb the pain of losing you, no matter who he smiled at or let sleep on the other side of the bed with him at night. None had come close to you. But now it was almost worse. Did he try to insert himself into your unsuspecting life? Or did he let you go on blissfully unaware of his existence?

“Lay, you okay?”

Lifting his head, Yixing looked at Han, thankful that he was alone in finding him.

Han’s jaw dropped. “Man, are you alright?”

It was then that Yixing realized he’d been crying. The tears that rolled down his cheeks were small and few in number, but still very much present. Han sat down in the office chair across him, rolling a little closer.

“I saw her,” Yixing whispered.

“Saw who? Shia?”

“No,” Yixing sniffed back the new set of tears that were threatening to spill over. “My wife.”

Han’s jaw dropped. “Y-your wife? But I thought she, you know, died. Like… a long time ago?”

Leaning back in the chair, Yixing sighed. “She did. I think this might be her recent incarnation.”

“Wow.” Han ran a hand through his hair, blowing air between his lips in astonishment. He suddenly jumped forward in his seat, startling Yixing. “So, reincarnation is real, too? Like, it's kind of all true?”

“All might be a bit of an overstatement, but yes. I’ve met a few people along the years that have been reborn.” Yixing frowned, remembering the few run-ins he had, mostly with people he had known when he was still mortal. There had been a mixture of fear and excitement when he’d approached them. Would they remember him? Would they know he had been alive all this time? The answer to both had turned out to be no. To this day, Yixing didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“So, did you talk to her?”

Yixing shook his head. “No. She, uh, she was meeting someone. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Something hard and plastic connected with Yixing’s face, shocking him and stinging at his skin. It was a pair of headphones that Han had snatched up from the soundboard and thrown at him. “What was that for?”

“Because apparently being alive for several millennia made you dumber rather than smarter,” Han snapped. “This could be your chance to be with her again. Maybe that one goddess, Penelope-”

“Persephone.”

Han rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Maybe this is her way of saying ‘hey, you’ve been punished enough, here’s a treat’.”

“I hardly doubt that.” With a heavy sigh, Yixing ran a hand down his face. He looked up at his friend, his one confidante. “You really think I should try and find her again?” Han nodded, a sympathetic smile on his face. Yixing cringed. “But she was meeting a guy….”

Han took Yixing’s hand and shook it twice. “Hi, welcome to the twenty-first century where girls have guy friends.” Yixing yanked his hand back, irritated. “Also, it could have been a cousin she hadn't seen in a long time. Or,” Han held his hands up, palms out, in a very sarcastic manner, “even if it was a boyfriend, I doubt he could hold up to the chiseled, dimpled, world’s greatest music producer, Lay.”

There was no other response Yixing could muster other than to laugh, embarrassed by the hype his friend was giving him. While he still didn’t have the full confidence to go up against another guy if you were already in a relationship, he still wanted to get to know the you in this time period, even if he had to settle with simple friendship.

“Okay,” Yixing nodded. “I guess there’s only one thing left for me to do.” He stared down Han with determination. “I’ve got to find her again.”

Day: 1,095,043

It’d been a week already and he couldn’t find you. Not that he thought he would find you the moment he walked outside and headed in the same direction he had the first time, but it was becoming a little discouraging, not seeing you again.

For the third day in a row, he sat in that coffee shop, the one place he’d seen you, and waited. From his years of observing people, he could guess that you came here often if you chose to meet someone within these walls. He just hoped that he wasn’t wasting his time. He’d given up too easily last week. Where he should have come up with some excuse to talk to you, introduced himself and gotten at least your new name, he froze, turning around and deciding that you were better off in this new life without even giving himself a chance. While he was ashamed of how he’d failed you, he wasn’t a bad person.

As he stared out the window, watching the people pass by in groups or by themselves, he listened to the soft sprinkle of rain hitting against the glass. It was a little gloomier today, bring his hope down a few pegs. He didn’t really like the rain, but the pitter-patter sound the droplets had inspired a few songs, so he couldn’t hate it completely.

Just when he was thinking over possibly heading out into the cold weather, his miracle arrived.

You were on the other side of the street, walking towards the crosswalk that would bring you straight to the shop. But you were crying. Not loud, shoulder-shaking sobs. Instead, it was the kind that was more subtle. The kind that reddened the eyes and stuffed up the nose, but made no sound. Yixing wouldn’t have even been able to decipher your state if you hadn’t been hugging yourself so tightly, wiping your eyes with your sleeve every few seconds or so.

When you came to the crosswalk, you were so wrapped up in whatever was making you hurt that you weren’t paying attention to the glowing orange man that had stopped blinking, warning pedestrians that it wasn’t safe to walk. Not even thinking, Yixing jumped up out of his seat and ran outside. Shoving people aside left and right, he made it to the sidewalk, not slowing down as he raced to push you out of the way of oncoming traffic. He finally stopped once your feet were safely back on the pale concrete, his arms cradling you to his chest. Stepping back, he frantically held your face, searching for any sign that you were hurt in the rescue.

“Are you okay?” he said breathlessly.

You nodded shakily. “Th-thank you. I, um, I really should have been better attention. I just-”

Yixing shushed you. “That’s okay. Let’s get you out of the cold and something to drink.”

Not answering, you let him lead you back to the coffee shop. Inside, he sat you down at the table he’d been occupying by the window for the last several hours before going up to the counter and ordering a simple hot chocolate. The wind outside was biting and unforgiving and your thin cardigan was hardly enough to shield you from it’s wrath. You needed to warm up and hopefully the steaming drink would do the trick.

“Thank you,” you whispered as he set the cup down in front of you before taking his seat again. You didn’t touch the drink and you kept your head down, most likely to hide the fact that you’d been crying – which he already knew.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You were lying, but he didn’t call you out on it. “Thank you, again. For that. I feel like an idiot for just walking out there in the middle of traffic.”

“Maybe something was distracting you?” he offered. He hoped you would open up to him even though, to you, he was complete stranger.

Your answer was accompanied by a shrug. “Something like that, yeah.” Finally you took a sip of the drink, shivering as the soothing liquid hit your system.

It was silence for a few minutes. Many sentences started themselves in Yixing’s head, but he couldn’t bring himself to release any of them.

“I just get like that sometimes,” you suddenly confessed, making Yixing perk up.

“Get like that?” he echoed.

“Yeah.” You played with the cozy that saved your hand from the hot plastic, not meeting his eye. “I don’t know why, I just get really… sad, I guess? Usually, I just sit on my couch and listen to depressing music, but something today told me to go for a walk. I guess I was trying concentrate on not crying that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.” Your cheeks rose up as you gave him a shy smile. “Kind of weird, isn’t it?”

“No, no!” Yixing protested. “I don’t think that’s weird at all. Emotions make us human, right?”

“That is true.” Holding out your hand, you introduced yourself. “I’m (y/n).”

Yixing fought to contain his elation as he took your hand, still a little cold but much better than it was before, and said, “I’m… Lay.” He thought it best to keep the facade of his current identity for now. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lay?” Your eyebrows furrowed. Scepticism was painted all over your face, but you went with it. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Fighting the urge to bring your hand to his lips, like he did all those years ago, Yixing let your fingers slip away from his. “So, what do you do?” he asked.

“I’m a school teacher.” Your entire face brightened up, making it even more beautiful than it already was. “First graders.”

Of course. It fit all too well. “You look like you’d make a great teacher.”

“Thank you. What about you?” you asked after taking another sip of your drink. “What do you do?”

“I’m a music producer,” he replied proudly.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

Laughing, Yixing started to go into more of what he did, but then his phone rang, making him frown. It was Han. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.” At your nod of understanding, he answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, buddy, any luck?”

Yixing cleared. “Actually, yes. Did you need something?”

“Wow. That’s actually surprising. I figured you would be SOL with the luck you’ve had.”

He’d let that slide… for now.

“But, right now, Shia’s on her way. They want to hear the song again and they want you there. Got to come back to the studio. Sorry, man.”

Of course this would happen now. “Alright. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Hanging up, he looked at you apologetically. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“No, that’s fine,” you insisted, waving your hand at him.

Taking a deep breath, Yixing knew he had to take this chance while it was in front of him. “Do you think… I could see you again?”

Your eyes grew wide and a pink dust appeared on your cheeks. “Um, yeah. I would like that.”

As quick as his fingers could go, he opened a new contact in his phone and handed it over to you. There was no protest as you gave him your number.

“This might seem weird, but I’m glad to have met you, Lay,” you confessed.

His heart swelled in his chest. How could things be going so well for him? “I’m glad to have met you, too.”

Leaving you there in that cafe was hard, but he had to maintain his regular life. Besides, now he had a way to see you again. Walking away from you right now was only for a moment, it was not forever. Not this time.

Day: 1,095,077

For over a month now, Yixing had been able to see you off and on, meeting you at the cafe or grabbing a small dinner. The more he got to know the current you, the more he was convinced that you really were the reincarnation of his wife. The subtle mannerisms, the way you talked, every little feature in your face, it was all the same. And he was falling in love with you all over again. Some things were different, obviously, as your life experiences were different this time around, but he still felt strongly towards you and wanted to be with you.

He found himself skipping out on sessions with Han to go meet you. The melodies leaving his his fingers, whether being created on the soundboard or the instruments in front of him, were happier, livelier than they had been in the past. It was like he’d spent so long in the dark, cold winter, but the frost was finally melting away to spring.

Everything was in perfect order for when you would arrive. This was the first time you were going to come to the studio and Yixing wanted you to be impressed, not disgusted by the food wrappers and empty coffee cups lying around. Though the definition of your relationship was still just as friends, he could feel it growing into more. He hoped that tonight would help things move to the next step.

“Lay?” your soft voice came out as a whisper as you gently knocked on the doorframe.

He beamed at you, running up to you and guiding you in. “You made it. How was school?”

“It was good. The kids say hi.”

Yixing had gone once to the school to bring you back the cardigan you’d left at the restaurant the night before. The children had rushed at him, curious of the man who was bringing their teacher a piece of clothing. He’d stayed and played with them for an hour or so before you finally had to shoo him away to get back to their lessons.

“Tell them I’ll come see them again soon,” Yixing grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “You are going to get me in trouble.”

Patting the seat next to him, Yixing urged you to come to the recording equipment. He had something he wanted you to hear. “Are you ready?” You nodded eagerly. Yixing pressed the button to start the new song.

It was a slow ballad, but not a sad one. Hope and love filled every lyric, connected every note. He wished for you to understand it was all for you. The only thought he had while creating the song was of you, your face and your smile. Your laugh was the foundation for the rhythm, giving it a unique pattern.

As the song faded out, Yixing’s recorded voice giving way to the last few notes, you turned to him, glossy eyed and smiling brighter than the sun.

“That was beautiful,” you sighed. You reached out to him and grasped his hand. “You are so talented.” Realizing what you were doing, you took your hand back, embarrassed. “I mean, of course you are,” you laughed. “Mr. Music Producer.”

Shyness spilling over his whole body, Yixing pressed both of his hands into his head, leaning back in his chair while chuckling. You loved his song. The message might not have gone completely through, but you loved it. That was enough.

The two of you stayed in the studio for a few more hours, just talking while Yixing showed you how he composed songs on this modern technology. You listened attentively, taking in everything that he was saying, even playing with some of the knobs to create your own transitions.

Before he knew it, it was getting late and time to leave the studio as the sun was leaving the sky. He walked you out, but he didn’t want to leave you just yet.

“Are you hungry?”

You nodded eagerly. “I am, actually.”

Yixing scratched the back of his head nervously. “Can I make you dinner?”

“You cook, too?” You scoffed, looking out onto the street. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Laughing, Yixing didn’t answer, just taking your hand and leading you to his car. His apartment wasn’t too far away, making it there in five minutes or so. Almost as soon as you walked in through the door, you started looking around, taking in the record collection and small pictures that Yixing had taken in his travels over the world. Not that you knew the older ones were taken by him.

He let you wander around while he got to work in the kitchen, sauteing vegetables and marinating the meat. The smells of the cooking food filled the air until he could hear your stomach growling from his spot in front of the stove. He giggled at the sound, but he didn’t say anything, just allowing you to continue walking around.

Just when he started plating the finished product, the vibration of strummed guitar strings hummed through the air. Walking over to the entry way that led to the living room, Yixing’s lips split into a smile when he saw you sitting on his couch, playing the acoustic guitar that usually sat in the corner, only there when he was inspired at two in the morning.

At first, the notes you played were random, nothing recognizable. But then, slowly, the notes changed into a melody he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

Tears formed in his eyes as he listened to you play the first song he ever wrote you on the lyre. It had been a gift, one that he hoped to win your heart over with. The plan had worked, the two of you very much in love and married within the month. He played it for you whenever you asked, typically on the nights before he had to leave you. After your death, he vowed to never play the song ever again. The only time he broke that promise was in front of the god of the underworld as he begged to take you back with him.

When you saw Yixing, you stopped playing, mumbling an apology.

“That was a very beautiful song,” Yixing said as he willed the water in his eyes to stay put. “Where did you hear it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s kind of been in my head for as long as I can remember.”

The first step Yixing took towards you was hesitant, knowing that the action he wanted to take would either make or break the two of you. But after another step, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Grasping your jaw with his hands, he captured your lips in his, leaning you back on the couch as you moved the guitar out of the way. You reciprocated the kiss, gripping his shirt in your hands. Yixing let go of your face to move his hands to your waist, lifting you up from the couch. In response, you wrapped your legs around his torso and he carried you to the bedroom, the dinner he’d made completely forgotten.

Day: 1,095,078

The warmth given off by you helped Yixing sleep better than he had in over three millennia. He held you close, memorizing every curve and the very scent of your skin. You were still fast asleep next to him, your breath the only sound echoing off the walls. Kissing your bare shoulder, Yixing slipped out of the bed and headed into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the smirk when he spotted the spoiled dinner.

Once that mess was cleaned up, he started on breakfast. This time he would make sure that you actually ate something.

Humming to himself, Yixing carried two plates of fresh, hot food back into his bedroom. But you were no longer sleeping peacefully, entangled in his sheets as you clung to his pillow. You were now wide awake, dressed and holding a small portrait in your hands as you sat on the edge of the bed.

Crap.

He’d forgotten about that piece he’d kept with him all these years, laying out on top of the dresser.

It was a piece of cloth, old and fraying on the edges, with your portrait painted delicately on the fibers. To preserve it, he kept it pressed under glass in a frame. He’d had it made soon after your death so he could carry it with him everywhere. Only by a miracle had it stayed in such good condition. The details in the painting were enough for anyone to see the connection between you and the subject.

“What is this?” you asked in a shaky voice. “Why does this look like me?”

Putting the plates down, Yixing approached you cautiously. “I can explain-”

“This is old,” you held up the frame, your grip so tight that your knuckles were pale. “Have you been stalking me?”

“No!” He threw himself at your feet, taking your arms in hands so he could feel more grounded as everything was crumbling around him. This what not how he wanted you to find out. He knew someday he would have to tell you, but he wanted to do it on his own terms, in a way that you would understand. “Please, listen to me. I can explain.”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, shaking your head. When you finally opened your eyes again, you sighed. “Who are you?”

Taking the frame from you, he stood up and sat next to you on the bed. “Most of what I’ve told you is true, but- My name isn’t Lay. It’s Yixing. And I’m over three-thousand years old.”

“What?” You jumped up, putting space between you two. “That’s what you’re going with? Are you insane?”

“Please,” Yixing begged. “I’m trying to explain this the best I can. I truly am that old. I was cursed after I tried to save my wife.”

You frowned. “Y-your wife?”

“Yes.” Yixing stood to his feet, but when he stepped towards you, you shrank back. “She was the love of my live and I lost her. Twice. But then I got another chance. I met you.”

“So… you think I’m her?” you scoffed. “That’s the only reason you’ve been seeing me?”

“Some people are reincarnated,” Yixing explained. “It’s still you-”

“No!”

The sudden charge in your shout had Yixing taken aback.

“I’m not her,” you insisted through clenched teeth.

“But the song-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You stormed out of the bedroom, grabbing your purse as Yixing hurried after you.

“Wait! Please!”

You slammed the door in his face, ignoring every plea he called out after you.

Shuffling back to the bedroom, Yixing picked up the frame, sliding down to the floor. The tears flowed more freely than ever as he clutched the portrait to his chest. Just when he had you back in his arms, he lost you once again.

Day: 1,095,094

Over two weeks had gone by since you stormed out of Yixing’s apartment. You wouldn’t answer his phone calls and Yixing was losing all hope of ever seeing you again. He couldn’t make you understand; all he could do was hope that you would think about what he said and maybe give him another chance to properly explain things.

With his head resting on his arm as he stared at nothing, the song he’d written for you echoed through the speakers in the studio. He couldn’t stop listening to it, wallowing in his self-pity, hoping someday he’d just go back to being numb, like how he was before he met you.

“This is a beautiful song.”

Jumping at the sound of another voice, Yixing turned around to find Shia standing a few feet away. Gone was the sour, put-out look that had been on her face the last three times he’d seen her. Now her features were softer, a sentimental smile on her lips. She wasn’t looking at him, eyes trained on the soundboard, like she was really taking in the theme and meaning of the lyrics.

Yixing turned off the speakers, turning his back to her. “Thank you,” he said sternly.

Shia walked forward, leaning her palms against the table. “That’s the kind of song I’d like to sing.”

“No,” Yixing shook his head.

“What do you mean no?” She straightened up, crossing her arms. “Did you already write it for another artist?”

Turning off the rest of the equipment, Yixing got out of his chair and slipped his arms into his black bomber. He needed to get out of here. “No. This one’s not for sale.”

Her jaw dropped, offended. “What do you mean it’s not for sale?”

“Exactly that.” What was so hard to understand that he wasn’t giving this song to anyone?

“Don’t you want people to hear this song?” she fought back. “I’d even have it as the lead single-”

“It’s not for you!”

Yixing never got angry like this. He wasn’t a yeller, a screamer, but he just wanted her to go away and stop nagging him about the song.

“Lay?”

He froze, eyes widening and throat going dry. That was just his mind tricking him in this moment, right? His hope manifesting into delusions to ease the pain?

But when he turned towards the door, it was really you standing there, shifting from foot to foot, and looking like you were about to run out of there at any point given the slightest reason to.

“(y/n)?” he gasped.

You licked your lips. “Hi.”

Shia looked back and forth between the two of you, getting a sense that she should probably leave. Without a word of goodbye, she slipped out, giving you the room.

Neither of you spoke for the longest time. Yixing had so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to drive you away again. You came to see him, so he would let you go at your own pace.

“Han came to the school,” you explained, breaking the silence. Yixing didn’t respond, just letting you continue. “He, um, he said that you’d been going through a hard time lately.”

Yixing sighed. “Please, don’t feel responsible. It’s completely understandable. The truth was dumped on y-”

“Han told me the same thing.” You shook your head, still trying to process it all. “He said that he saw the pictures of you, throughout the years. That you were really telling the truth about being alive all this time.” You took a step towards him, finally meeting his eye. “But I want to hear the rest from you.”

Testing the waters, Yixing filled in more of the space between you, even risking taking your hand in his. When you didn’t pull away, he smiled, the corner of his mouth just barely tipping up. “I told you about my wife. She died after falling ill. I wasn’t there when she passed, having left earlier in the month on business. When I came back, it was too late. But I needed her. So I went after her. I traveled to the underworld to make a deal with the god who ruled there.”

“How did you… get there?” you asked cautiously, the strain between your eyebrows giving away how hard you were working to make sense of what he was telling you.

He couldn’t help but reach out and trace the outline of your cheekbone. You were listening, taking in what he was saying without running away. “I went through several trials, met with many religious leaders. I finally found the entrance. It’s the kind of place that could only be found if the gods deem it so. I met with the ruler of the underworld and made him a deal: I could take my wife back with me to the world of the living, but I had to have faith. I had to walk back up to the surface without looking back until I crossed the threshold. Just before I reached the sunlight, though, I panicked. I wondered if I had been tricked. So, I turned around and she was there. But I’d broken the deal and she faded away just when I’d gotten her back.”

Water was pooling on the bottom lids of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you took in his story. But it wasn’t over yet.

“I lost all will to live,” he admitted. “I didn’t eat, I didn’t leave my bed. I just wanted to be with her again and that was the only way left for me after the trial. But death never came for me. I was now cursed to live forever, never allowed to see my love again because I couldn’t have faith.” Letting go of your hand, he cupped your jaw. “When I saw you walking down the street, I thought I was given a second chance. My love back on the earth with me again. Getting to know you, this you, has been the real blessing. Even if you decide to walk away, I will be forever grateful.”

When he was finished, you reached up, capturing his wrist in your hand. He thought, for a moment, that you were going to push him away again. But you didn’t.

“I don’t know if I’m actually her,” you whispered. Meeting his eyes, there was a glow in your own gaze that was making his heart speed up. “But… I can’t walk away, not now. It feels too right, being here with you. I would hope that you see me in front of you, and not her.”

“It’s you,” he confirmed. “It’s you.” He pulled you in, kissing you deeply. It felt so good to have you in his arms again, to have you believe him and receptive of his love for you. It was all true. Now he didn’t care if you really were his wife’s incarnation, not anymore. You were the one he wanted now, the one he would be thankful to have for the rest of his days, no matter how many were in his future.

Day: 1,095,103

Although the last time he left you alone sleeping in his bed ended in disaster, he still slowly slipped out from under the covers, knowing it’d be fine this time around. As quietly as he could, he slid the glass door that led out to his balcony open. He stepped out into the cool morning air and leaned up against the railing.

Life had settled in the last few weeks. You were still adjusting to certain things, like calling him Yixing rather than Lay and having him reference something that happened decades ago like it happened last week. But he’d never been happier in his immortal life.

“It’s nice to see you smiling like that.”

Yixing jumped, letting out a strangled noise in surprise. Why were you always sneaking up on him like that?

But it wasn’t you that had joined him on the balcony. In fact, it was someone he never thought he would ever see again. She probably had much better things to do than pay him a visit.

“Persephone?”

“Hello, Yixing,” the goddess greeted from the iron seat with a dazzling smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he adjusted his stance, leaning his back on the metal barrier.

“I thought I would catch up,” she said cryptically.

Yixing raised an eyebrow. “A bit late for that, don’t you think?”

She shrugged. She definitely didn’t look like the goddess that painters had depicted in their artworks over the centuries. A red pantsuit and short haircut helped her blend right in if she happened to be walking down the street. That softness that Yixing had seen so long ago was still present, so apparently not too much had changed. “Are you happy now?”

“Yes,” he said honestly. “I am. Are you here to tell me you had a hand in that?”

Persephone smiled coily. “Maybe.” Releasing a sigh, she crossed her legs, letting her hands rest in her lap. “I thought it was time to give you a life again.”

“So, my punishment is over for now?” Yixing knew, even though he was living joyfully now, that eighty years down the line, he’d have to go back to his lonely existence. But he’d pushed that thought aside each time it came out. He would love you now and forever, each day was gift, the future could wait.

“It wasn’t ever meant to be a punishment,” Persephone insisted. “I knew how much you loved your wife. I wanted to give you a second chance at that love.”

“So why didn’t you just have us reborn together?” he questioned harshly.

“Because you needed to remember your past choices, so you wouldn’t make them again.”

Again? But-

Ah. Yes. He loved his wife, he did with his whole heart. But he let his passion for music get in the way, leaving her behind as he went to play concert halls and chase after the admiration of the audience when he finished a piece. The fact that he didn’t get enough time with his wife wasn’t just because she died so young, but because he was away so often. He wouldn’t do that again. Already, he was putting off studio sessions and canceling meetings to spend time with you. Maybe he really had learned from his past mistakes without even realizing it.

“Is it really her?” he asked. It was a question that didn’t really need voicing, but it slipped out anyway. No matter what the answer, he would walk back into that bedroom and hold you tightly.

But Persephone nodded. “Yes, it is. I held onto her until I thought the time was right. Most memories are erased when a person is reborn, but I left traces of you in her, despite my husband’s protests, to help bring her to you. Remember how she said she would get sad sometimes without any reason?”

Yixing gave off a short laugh. It was a faint memory of him that took you to the streets that day, allowing him to see you again. It made all those years of wandering alone worth it, absolutely.

“Yixing?”

You stepped out on to the balcony, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and yawning. Persephone was gone, leaving the two of you alone. Opening his arms for you, Yixing pulled you in close to his chest, staring out at city skyline. He could feel your heartbeat, the steady rhythm reminding him of the rain pattering against the window on days where he felt especially lonely. He’d thought about how much he disliked the rain that day he pulled you out of the street. Now it was his favorite sound in the whole world. A sound that used to pull him down was now making him fly.

Day: 1,095,472

“Yixing! Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

“I’m coming! Just one more minute!”

Instead of finishing up, however, Yixing just found himself smiling at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The two of you were supposed to have left already for the party celebrating Shia’s newest album.

After much persuasion by you, Yixing had finally relented in letting Shia release the song he’d written for you. Now there were talks of songwriting awards galore with how successful the single had become. Yixing didn’t think he’d be able to attend the awards, needing to keep his identity as lowkey as possible, but the thought of it was elating enough.

You peeked into the bathroom, looking as amazing as ever. “Yixing, the fact that we’re waiting on you and not me is a great way to break the stereotype, but we’re seriously going to miss the launch!”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay,” you sighed, stealing your own kiss from his lips before disappearing back to the living room of your shared apartment.

Fixing his hair one last time, Yixing gave himself a last onceover to make sure he looked the part of main producer. But then he spotted something that didn’t belong. Hidden among his styled black hair was a single strand of gray. Plucking it from its place, he held it up close to examine it. There it was, a gray, aged hair. Never had he ever seen one of those from his own head. Did this mean-

It wasn’t ever meant to be a punishment. I knew how much you loved your wife. I wanted to give you a second chance at that love.

Did this mean he was no longer immortal? Would he now be allowed to age and grow old with you? Only time would give way to the truth, but the hope growing in his heart was like a wildfire, raging out of control.

Out in the living room, he pulled you into a hug.

“Is everything okay?” you asked when you pulled back.

Yixing nodded eagerly. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Come on, let’s go.” He took your hand and led you out the front door, to head to the party and to the rest of your lives. Together.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #reincarnation au #greek mythology au #exo scenarios #The Sound of the Rain

[shijiujun]

[ENG] History3: Trapped Novel - Chapter Four

~5,700 words (proofread by @weilongfu​)

Translation Masterpost can be found here

Disclaimer: Translations are entirely mine - these are not official translations and some phrases have been changed for better English interpretation so you’ll definitely see better/different translations elsewhere. Also keeping in mind when we translated this we aren’t exactly thinking about the style of writing and this translation is as close to the novel as we can make it XD So yes, some parts may be a little awkward to read. And yes some teeny weeny details and words may not turn up in the translation because the Chi to Eng mind acrobatics didn’t work out. If you see asterisks, scroll all the way to the bottom for notes!

Full chapter below the cut

Chapter Four

The music festival period is upon them and this is also usually when drug dealing becomes more rampant, and the drug dealer nicknamed Big K will be proceeding with a huge transaction in a well-known bar. Team 3 is in charge of this case, and under Captain Shi’s orders, all of Team 3’s members are undercover as bartenders, customers and janitors in the bar, waiting for the opportunity to arrest Big K.

Inside the bar, the dance floor is filled with many men and women dancing and moving their bodies to the heavy EDM beats, and some of them are even intimately dancing in each other’s space, gyrating their bodies against one another. Shao Fei, forced to wear a couple shirt with a frog printed on it by Yu Qi, dances with uncoordinated with movements, his attention preoccupied with supervising the bar’s every corner.

Suddenly, Shao Fei pauses in all his movements, glaring at the darts area next to the dance floor.

“Did you find our target?” Captain Shi, in charge of today’s operation, asks Shao Fei through their communication ear-pieces, thinking that his team member found something.

“No,” Shao Fei responds, his eyes trained on Xing Tian Meng’s leader, who’s currently playing darts at the machines with a beautiful man.

At the darts area, both men are chatting and laughing, their actions overly intimate.

“I want to know who’s the person who attacked me.”

“You’re asking me to work the moment you get here. We haven’t seen each other in so long, don’t you miss me?” pouts Andy with his hands locked around the back of Tang Yi’s neck, wearing a black lace shirt that leaves his muscles and skin visible and which exposes most of his chest.

“You sure you want me to visit often?” Tang Yi asks.

Andy hits at Tang Yi’s chest lightly and whines, “Forget it. Every time you visit, trouble follows.”

The music in the bar suddenly switches from EDM to a slow tempo-ed jazz piece, and the sound of the saxophone, filled with an air of temptation and also turning the atmosphere on the dance floor into something more flirty.

Yu Qi, pressed against Shao Fei’s front, seizes the opportunity to hug the senior she has had a crush on for several years now, and smiles to herself, delighted. Just as she is about to take advantage of the sensual atmosphere to ask Shao Fei if he has anyone he likes right now, she sees a familiar someone standing on the other side of the dance floor.

Yu Qi watches the two men slow-dancing with their hands circling each other’s waists, and stunned, she opens her mouth, “It’s actually Tang Yi? Looks like that gossip is real.”

“What gossip?”

“The one that says Tang Yi has many lovers and is very popular, and…” Yu Qi moves to the tips of her toes until she’s right next to Shao Fei’s ear, and enunciates, “He doesn’t discriminate between men and women!”

On the dance floor, Andy suddenly remembers something and so he presses himself against Tang Yi’s chest and says quietly, “Oh right… Chen Wen Hao just met with a broker.”

“I know.”

“You know? Who told you?”

The almost-naked man is actually approximately 190cm tall, but he’s more attractive than most women and looking at Tang Yi, who’s smiling before him, Andy bites at his right ear, pretending to be angry.

“You playboy! Who is it this time? Is he better than I am?”

“No, he absolutely cannot compare to you,” his seductive gaze moves past Andy’s shoulder, and he looks toward Shao Fei who’s holding another girl against him, but staring straight at him. “That person is impulsive, stubborn and destructive, but…. He’s okay.”

Shao Fei, who’s been staring at the corner of the dance floor from the beginning, only feels anger rushing to head as he watches Tang Yi’s fingers caress at the man’s waist. Not wanting to look weak in front of the man, he hugs Yu Qi even closer and sends a challenging glare Tang Yi’s way - the Xing Tian Meng leader who’s currently being all intimate with another man.

“Do me a favour.”

Tang Yi is sharp enough to sense Shao Fei’s emotions. He smirks, and after asking for his favour, immediately grabs at Andy’s neck and presses his lips against the other man’s. Although Andy was caught off-guard by this move, he can more or less guess why Tang Yi is doing this, so not only does he cooperate with Tang Yi, but even deepens the kiss with passion, pulling Tang Yi closer by the back of his head.

“Bastard!”

Shao Fei shakes Yu Qi’s hand off, about to rush over to separate the two men who are still kissing hotly, but he’s held back by Yu Qi, who thinks Shao Fei is going over to cause a scene.

“Senior, you can’t!” she says, and drags him back to the bar counter.

After enjoying the surprise kiss, Andy is the first one to pull away from Tang Yi. Licking at his lips, he asks, “You’re suddenly being really passionate to me, something is definitely amiss. Talk! What are you scheming this time, huh?”

Tang Yi walks over to the round tables and picks up his beer, using the mouth of the bottle to point towards a table where trouble seems to be brewing. Changing the topic, he continues, “There’s trouble!”

“Fuck,” Andy looks in the direction Tang Yi pointed out, then glares at the Xing Tian Meng leader standing right next to him, “The moment you visit, something always happens over at my place.”

The tall man twists his head and starts moving through the corridors, until he comes to a room filled with surveillance equipment. Tang Yi, putting down his beer, follows the man to this restricted area as well.

“Look!” Andy points at a screen on the bottom left corner.

On the screen, Shao Fei and other members of Team 3 disguised as guests and the bartender converge on one of the private tables. The man inside, who was speaking with several other men, find the situation a little alarming. Just as he’s about to knock a few tables over to escape, Shao Fei and another short police officer restrain him easily, and slam the handcuffs over his hands. They then move to each of his sides to secure him between them, and it looks as if they’re just helping a drunk friend home. Without alarming any of the other guests, the team leaves the bar with their target.

“Not bad! Subtly arresting a drug dealer, I like this little cop,” Andy touches his lips and smiles lightly.

As he looks at the drug dealer that the police arrested, he sharply changes the topic and says, voice icy, “These people dared to sell drugs on my territory? Do they want to die? But, how did you know that something was going to happen? You have a cop you know?”

“I know him really well.”

Andy grasps Tang Yi’s tie, pulling the man to stand right in front of him. With a laugh, he threatens, “No wonder you were so passionate towards me earlier. You better come clean and tell me who that man is right now, otherwise tonight don’t think of leaving!”

“If my answer is… I was impulsive in that moment?”

“Tch, those words truly should be used on someone like you.”

Seeing that he probably won’t get an answer no matter how much he prods, Andy side-eyes Tang Yi and releases his hold on the man’s tie. Tang Yi’s lips curves, and he adjusts his wrinkled tie and shirt from the mess Andy made.

The next day

Ah De has been waiting all morning at the stairs. Once he sees Tang Yi coming down the stairs, Ah De immediately follows his footsteps and says, “Boss, let me accompany you.”

“No need.”

Every time there’s something Tang Yi wants to think seriously about, he will always get up early and do a morning jog. Wearing tight navy blue jogging gear, Tang Yi refuses Ah De’s suggestion and heads for the door himself. However, Ah De moves in front of him with quick steps and stops him with a hand, and with a face filled with worry, he persists, “Boss, it’s too dangerous for you to go alone, let me accompany you!”

Tang Yi pauses in his footsteps, and asks, “Have you found out who it was that attacked me?”

“Not yet…”

“Then what you need to do right now is to find out who attacked me.”

“Boss, if you get hurt again, I-”

“Li Zhi De, you do what you’re supposed to do, and don’t have any unnecessary expectations.”

The stammering man is interrupted by Tang Yi, unable to finish his sentence. Tang Yi’s eyes are sharp, and he seems to have seen clearly through Ah De.

“I understand…” he says bitterly.

As if a cold bucket of water is poured over his head, Ah De swallows Tang Yi’s painful reply with difficulty and suppresses the feelings he shouldn’t have for Tang Yi. Dropping his arms which are stopping Tang Yi right now, he moves back to the position that a ‘subordinate’ should have.

===

Next to the river, a cool breeze blows past a well-defined face*.

“Yo! You’re up so early?”

The man focused on running quickly senses the approach of someone else. Clenching his fists, he is immediately on guard, ready to return any attack coming. When he hears the familiar voice of the person, however, he relaxes and releases all tension. Joking, he asks, “Skipping work?”

Matching his pace, Shao Fei runs by Tang Yi’s right side and unceremoniously scoffs, “Who’s skipping work? I’m on field duty today.”

“What do you want to ask this time?”

These four years, Tang Yi has become used to Shao Fei appearing anytime, anywhere but ever since the kidnapping incident previously, Tang Yi now has other feelings for the man, feelings that are not dislike and thinking about how to make use of him.

“Who was the guy in the bar yesterday?”

“A friend.”

“A friend? Who’re you trying to fool? If it was just a friend, would you have hugged and touched him like that?” asks Shao Fei, his tone of voice going higher with every word unconsciously, even touching his own waist and re-enacting Tang Yi’s movements with the other man from yesterday.

Tang Yi stops running, looking at the young police officer who quickly stops in his footsteps as well.

With both arms open, he teases, “Do you want me to hug you as well?”

Shao Fei’s cheeks grow hot. Looking away quickly, he says, “Who- Who wants to be hugged by you?!”

“So what is it exactly you’re trying to say?”

Just as Hong Ye said, with all these years, Shao Fei indeed does understand him very well, but the other way holds true as well. Tang Yi knows Shao Fei very well too, so Shao Fei is definitely not here just to ask about Andy.

As expected, hesitation flashes across Shao Fei’s eyes for a moment. He swallows and begins, “Let’s forget about the first four years, recently you and I have been through so many things together, you saved me, and I saved you. The both of us… we’re counted as friends, right?”

“Nnn,” Tang Yi affirms lightly, then starts to jog again.

“What does ‘nnn’ mean?! Hey! Tang Yi! Tang Yi!” Shao Fei persists, catching up to Tang Yi.

“Let’s run a lap?”

“Who’s scared of you? I can even do two!”

Confidently putting up two fingers, Shao Fei makes Tang Yi’s smile grows wider, more radiant.

The morning sunlight illuminates the man’s angular features. From his forehead, his perspiration follows the lines of his face to his jaw, then landing on the ground as he runs past. The tight-fitting exercise gear he’s wearing sticks to him like a second skin, drenched with his sweat and revealing a well-sculpted body to be envied**.

Shao Fei can’t help but sneak glances at Tang Yi’s face from the side as he runs, but he doesn’t realise that the moment he looks away, the man running at his side turns his own heated gaze onto Shao Fei.

Not wanting to lose to the other, what began as a simple jog turns into a challenge for both men, and gradually they start to focus on running forward. As they pick up the pace, they concentrate on adjusting their breathing pace. The competition between them only stops when Shao Fei, panting, notices Tang Yi’s loosened shoelaces and points it out.

“You… you really…. You really can run.”

Shao Fei, with both hands on his hips, tries to catch his breath as he watches Tang Yi bend down to tie his shoelaces. Suddenly, a flash of light crosses his eyes. Alarmed, he looks towards the light source and finds that at the road on the top of the slope, a person wearing a dark blue baseball cap and holding onto a brown backpack is standing there, looking suspicious by the railings.

He doesn’t even have time to warn Tang Yi before the sound of a bullet being fired whizzes past them - Shao Fei pushes Tang Yi down onto the grass and whips out his own gun from his back. Just as the shooter readies for a second attack, he is interrupted by another jogger running in his direction from afar, and so the man aborts his plans. Shouldering his bag, he retreats.

Shao Fei moves to chase him, but Tang Yi stops him, pressing at his left arm, “Don’t chase him.”

“How many people did you actually offend? There are so many people looking to kill you?”

“It all just takes getting used to.”

Shao Fei keeps his own gun and walks over to Tang Yi’s side, only to see the man’s arm bleeding profusely. He breathes in sharply, “You’re hurt!”

“It’s alright. Let’s leave first,” Tang Yi replies calmly, still pressing at his bleeding wound.

“I’ll protect you.”

Tang Yi stares, stunned, at Shao Fei, who deliberately walks over on his left side and begins to survey their surroundings with a sharp eye.

For the first time, Tang Yi experiences the feeling of being protected by someone else.

Two days later

“Boss, I have a request.”

“No problem. Just tell me what request you have, I’ll treat it as your reward.”

Due to the successful arrest of drug dealer Big K, Captain Shi generously treated the whole team to fried chicken and pizza. It’s rare for him to do that, and what’s even more rare is Captain Shi agreeing to Shao Fei’s request so readily, without even scolding him.

“I want to protect a witness, I hope Boss will agree.”

“A work thing? No problem! Which case needs it? Who are you protecting?”

“Tang Yi!”

“You want to protect me?” Tang Yi asks incredulously, looking at Shao Fei, who is here with his luggage and bags directly after he received permission for this.

“Yes. Citizens can apply for protection from a civil servant***, which is the police, in the event of possible threat, danger or harm to oneself. That’s me, applying for protection.”

Tang Yi’s gaze slides downwards. He picks up his tea cup and tastes it, then says, “But I didn’t apply.”

“I know you wouldn’t apply, so I did it for you,” Shao Fei responds without faltering, with an expression that says ‘I knew you were going to say that’.

Ah De, standing at the side, looks at this man, this man who treats this house as his own backyard, who always intrudes whenever he likes and snaps.

“Meng Shao Fei, do you fucking think we are gangsters for nothing?! Our boss doesn’t need police to protect him.”

“I’m not just protecting your boss, I’m also protecting myself!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The other time we were trapped on the mountain, I was there. This time the attack, what a coincidence! I was there as well. I thought of course the target was Tang Yi, but with these two consecutive attacks I can’t help but wonder, maybe the target was me all along.”

“Bullshit!”

Shao Fei raises his brows and pushes his face towards Ah De. He smiles, “You gangsters offend people, but the people I have offended number as many, especially from Xing Tian Meng, am I right?”

Tang Yi places the cup back on the table, coldly replying, “I will not have a police officer stay at my side.”

“You can’t reject. We’re ‘half friends’, aren’t we? If we’re friends, we should help each other out.”

Seeing his boss quiet at Shao Fei’s reply, Ah De says anxiously, “Boss, if news of us getting involved with a cop gets out, how will people in the underworld see us?”

“I don’t think so,” Jack, who was standing away at the entrance with his arms crossed for a while now, cuts in suddenly.

“Since we still can’t find the person who attacked Boss, and with Officer Meng claiming that the target is him, why not we just put them both together? Firstly, Officer Meng will stop bringing us trouble… and secondly, Officer Meng is skilled at fighting. Isn’t it more advantageous to have one more person protecting Boss?”

“You!” Ah De points at Jack who has been at odds with him, so angry, his hands shaking in rage.

Tang Yi nods, looking at Jack. “Bring Officer Meng to the guest room upstairs.”

“Yes Boss.”

“Boss!”

“Sorry, excuse me,” Shao Fei gloats, picking up his luggage and bag.

He walks over to Ah De’s side and deliberately knocks Ah De , who’s stunned that Tang Yi would allow this, out of his way with his shoulder and follow Jack upstairs to a room on the second floor.

“Thanks for what you did earlier!” says Shao Fei to Jack in the guest room, after dumping his bags at the side and unceremoniously jumping onto the bed.

“You’re welcome. I also have a favour to ask.”

Jack, all smiles, walks over the side of the bed and makes a request that only Shao Fei can fulfil for him.

At Zhao Zi’s House

“You didn’t have to pick me up from the police station, I would have made my way there myself.”

After getting a call from Shao Fei, Zhao Zi agreed to help improve the security systems in Tang Yi’s house - he barely took a step out of the police station’s doors, prepared to have Thai food for lunch with his colleagues, when Jack turned up with a bag of groceries insisting that he return Zhao Zi that bowl of instant noodles from the previous time, and then dragging him back home.

“This is for a girl, right?” Jack asks standing in the kitchen, curious as he picks up the red apron with grey bears sewn onto it from next to the fridge.

Holding onto a carton of eggs and looking at the apron on Jack, Zhao Zi replies wistfully, “Nnn. It was left behind by my grandma. She passed away a long time ago.”

“If it was what she left you, why don’t you store it somewhere and keep it?”

“Grandma said that things are meant to be used, and if I don’t use it’s such a waste too.”

Jack nods, agreeing with that logic. So he secures the apron around him, then turns the gas stove on and begins boiling water for the noodles. On the other hand, Zhao Zi is standing on the side at the counter, naturally rolling up his sleeves and helping to prepare the ingredients they need for later.

“Actually you don’t have to return me the instant noodles. It’s not like you knocked it out of my hands.

“If I said it, I will do it. That’s my principle. Since I said I’d make it up to you the next time, I’ll definitely make it up to you,” smiles Jack, as he cracks open an egg into a bowl and starts to beat the eggs swiftly, looking at Zhao Zi from the side.

“Are you always such a stickler for rules when you do things? Grandma said before that doing things like that will be very tiring, so you better not not do things by the book like this, and you can live longer!”

Chopsticks in his right hand, Jack stops all movement, staring almost incredulously at this person who Jack thought was kind of crazy, but is now seeing through Jack so easily. Once again, he cannot help but think that Zhao Zi is a mysterious creature he cannot understand, and this only fuels the desire to get closer to Zhao Zi, to know more about him.

A few minutes later, a bowl of instant noodles looking exactly like the previous one is settled onto the short wooden table by the window. Zhao Zi sits at the table with his legs crossed, and he breaks out into a wide smile. Zhao Zi praises, “Wow! It’s really the same as the previous time!”

“As long as it’s something i want to remember, I can remember it all,” Jack’s lips follow in an answering smile. “How is it? Comparing to Thai food, which is more delicious?”

“Thai food.”

Jack harrumphs, angrily snatching away the bowl of instant noodles. The next second, Zhao Zi snatches it right back, looking like a little animal fiercely defending his food.

“Ah… compared to Thai food, Thai food is really more delicious! Instant noodles, no matter how you well you cook it there’s a limit to how delicious it is, don’t make things difficult for the instant noodles already.”

“Then…” Jack squints at Zhao Zi, and does something he rarely does - giving in.

He asks again, “Then if we don’t compare it to Thai food, is this delicious?”

Zhao Zi looks at the other man, fervently nodding and his smile so radiant. “Delicious.”

A smile has a contagious, magical affect. When one sees it, they would very naturally respond to it. Even for a man like Jack, who is used to standing far away observing everything, he cannot help but move closer to the shorty who’s eating his lunch so seriously. Jack smiles too, unconscious of it.

Looking around, Jack notices that other than the items and photographs that belonged to Grandma, everything else clearly belongs to a male. Curious, Jack runs up to the second floor.

“Don’t go up, it’s really messy upstairs! Hey, Jack!” shouts the homeowner who hasn’t had time to clean out his house in a few weeks.

Making a round and ensuring that there is no sign of another person living in this house, Jack returns to the first floor. With his hand on the wall next to the staircase, he asks, “You stay alone?”

“Nnn.”

“You love to eat?”

“Nnn nnn.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Nope,” Zhao Zi replies after drinking from the glass of milk.

“Virgin?”

“Yeah!” answers Zhao Zi with his mouth full of noodles, confused now.

“Damn!” exclaims Jack, his eyes widened and entirely surprised.

Zhao Zi puts down his chopsticks and walks to Jack until he’s standing right in front of him. Rolling his eyes and irritated, he says, “We’re police officers, if we’re not doing an investigative report then we’re out catching the bad guys. We’re short on manpower on the team, and basically one person is doing three persons’ worth of work. I’m so busy protecting the citizens of this country, where do I get the time to find a girlfriend?”

“So…” Jack squints again, smirking, and then continues, “So you’re really a virgin?”

“So what? I can’t be a virgin? I haven’t even had my first kiss! I’m great, aren’t I?”

Jack looks at the fuming shorty and immediately tries to soothe him, putting both thumbs up. “Great, great. You’re the greatest.”

“Hmph!”

Having recovered a little bit of his dignity, Zhao Zi turns around and walks back to the short table. Just as he’s about to pick up his chopsticks and continue enjoying his unfinished bowl of noodles, he hears someone calling him.

“Shorty!”

“What?”

“Some other day, I’ll introduce you to a very good looking person, how about that?”

Not yet seated, Zhao Zi rushes back to Jack, grabbing onto Jack’s arm excitedly. He says, “You’ll really introduce a girl to me? You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“Really really, I swear,” Jack swears, putting up three of his fingers on his right hand.

“Then let’s exchange our LINE. If there’s any girl you want to introduce to me just LINE me!”****

Zhao Zi, who has been teased by Shao Fei for being single all his life, immediately takes out his phone from his pockets and slides open the screen, tapping on the app he uses most often.

“Okay!” Jack takes out his phone from his back pocket too, and taps on the app’s QR code so Zhao Zi can scan it.

“Hehe, thanks!”

Having just gotten Jack’s number and walking back to the table feeling entirely satisfied, Zhao Zi receives a notification from the app. Tapping into the conversation between the both of them, he sees the sticker that Jack sent, which says ‘wow~ you’re really great!’.

“Are you an idiot!” Zhao ZI scolds, laughing.

As the man returns to eating his noodles, he doesn’t notice that Jack, who previously put up three fingers in a swear, is now moving his left hand behind his back. He secretly crosses his second and middle finger…

I swear- that the swear I just made, doesn’t count!

Gelato Ice Cream Store

Just a little past seven in the evening, Hong Ye - who just got into an argument with Tang Yi about Shao Fei moving into the house Tang Ye left him - is bent low in front of a gelato ice cream store’s freezer. Just as she points at a flavour of ice cream, the person next to her is a step ahead and says to the staff, “Chocolate mint. And the passion fruit sorbet.”

Hong Ye glares at the old-antique wearing black-rimmed glasses next to her. Irritated, she stands, saying, “Am I that angry? Why did you pick those two flavours?”

Dao Yi, dressed in a grey suit, patiently replies, “I’ve been at your side for so long, of course I know what mood you are in right now, and what flavour you’ll want to eat?”

“That’s true. No matter what happens, good or bad, you will always bring me here.”

They take the two glass bowls filled with ice cream scoops, then push open the glass door to the wooden eating area outside.

Dao Yi scoops a spoonful of his organic ice cream, then says, “Don’t forget our rules. After we finish these two scoops there will be no third scoop, so eat slowly.”

“I’ll eat as many as I want, you can’t control me.”

The 27 year old CEO of Shi Hai Corporations is just as she was when she was younger, willfully taking a scoop out of the other person’s ice cream.

“Are you done being angry?”

“No, didn’t you say Ah Yi will call me? Why have I not gotten his call yet?”

It’s all because of that bastard cop clinging onto Tang Yi that caused him to get hurt, but he actually still agreed to the suggestion of Meng Shao Fei staying at his side to be his bodyguard? The worse thing was that guy actually claiming that he and Tang Yi were… ‘half friends’...

Friends?

Who the fuck are they kidding?

One of them is from the mob and the is a cop, how can they ever be friends? In any case, whenever Ah Yi meets Meng Shao Fei, his attitude towards the man becomes really strange, especially recently. Yes, that’s right, ever since they went missing on the mountains for two days, everything started to become different.

“Boss is probably still busy with other things, so…” Dao Yi tries to explain on the young master’s behalf, but immediately offends Hong Ye as well.

“He’s busy? Am I not busy? Just Shi Hai’s things alone I’m already exhausted, and now there’s another Meng Shao Fei? And Ah Yi actually admits that they are… what, half friends? What even is that?! And he promised me that he wouldn’t do anything to make me worry!”

“Boss of course understands that Miss is worried about him, it’s just like the way he worries about you.”

“The both of you will only treat me as kid who needs to be protected.”

“No, we all think that you’ve grown up, enough to be independent.”

Hong Ye looks at the man who’s exactly 14 years older than she is. Holding out the spoon, she laments, “The person who has no right to say that is you.”

Dao Yi sighs, “I promised Boss Tang that I will take good care of Miss.”

“Miss, miss. So what Boss Tang said to you is always worth more than the things I say to you?”

Not willing to continue the conversation, Dao Yi turns his back to Hong Ye’s accusations literally, but the woman grabs his shoulder and turns him back, even forcing him to eat a scoop of her passion fruit sorbet.

“This is the flavour you eat when you’re angry, eat!”

Dao Yi looks at the Zuo Hong Ye who’s no longer a child, and without another word, eats the spoonful of ice cream. After, he personally drives the woman who’s most important to him, back to Tang Yi’s house.

The Tang Household

“You better get out tomorrow.”

Standing at the sink washing his cup clean, Shao Fei is startled by a voice behind him. Turning around, he sees Hong Ye standing at the entrance to the kitchen with her arms crossed.

“Hey, don’t scare people in the middle of the night, okay? Don’t you have your own place to live at? Why haven’t you gone back?”

“I just really don’t understand what the grudge is between Xing Tian Meng and the police? With you now, or the woman who died four years ago.”

Successfully stepping right where it hurts for Shao Fei, Hong Ye looks at the silent and still Shao Fei and continues to poke at him.

“That’s right. You can really get a lot of benefits being in the pockets of Xing Tian Meng. I wonder how much Lee Li Zhen took that year?”

“Zuo Hong Ye, I’ll not allow you to speak of Li Zhen Jie that way.”

Whenever Li Zhen Jie is mentioned, Shao Fei becomes serious. With a sharp look, he glares at Hong Ye, dressed in a white shirt.*****

“Did I say anything wrong? You’re definitely Lee Li Zhen’s protege. No wonder you’re using the identity of ‘half a friend’ to force Ah Yi to tell you what happened four years ago. What, do you want to be just like her, to side with Xing Tian Meng?”

“Li Zhen Jie didn’t side with Xing Tian Meng, it’s impossible for her to have been on your side.”

These four years, he’s heard too many, too many accusations, but he refuses to believe that the Li Zhen Jie who hated drugs, who taught him so strictly, would have any illegal dealings with the mob.

“Then why did she die with Boss Tang at the exact same place?”

The sharp tone of voice pierces through Shao Fei’s eardrums - and no matter how much he believes in Li Zhen, he has no way of refuting what Hong Ye is saying. This is exactly what has been bothering him all these years. He can’t understand why, and he can’t find any evidence to prove otherwise either.

“Of course! How much does a cop earn a month? To be greedy, that’s normal.”

“Zuo. Hong. Ye!”

Angrily moving past a Hong Ye who’s testing his patience, intending to head outside to calm his head, Shao Fei is instead shoved backwards by Tang Yi after seeing Shao Fei’s actions at this moment. Shao Fei falls, striking the chair on the side.

“Meng Shao Fei, I might have let you stay here, but this doesn’t mean you have any right to touch my people.”

“You!”

Only intending to move her aside but now being seen as an asshole who would hit a woman, Shao Fei’s eyes widen as he stares at Tang Yi, still in disbelief that the man would think him capable of such.

“Do you know what she just said?”

“I don’t care what she said, don’t you dare touch her!”

Shao Fei looks at both people standing before him, and it’s almost as if they’ve gone back to when they first met, those days full of hateful confrontations. His heart throbs painfully, and with reddened eyes Shao Fei pushes Tang Yi aside and rushes out.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” Hong Ye shakes her head, leaning into Tang Yi’s embrace and revealing a victorious smile.

Notes:

*The placement of this sentence even in Chinese is a little strange to me - I think the author is trying to kind of… describe the feeling of the wind caressing someone’s face as Tang Yi or Shao Fei runs - it’s not really specified in the sentence whose face is it, but I’d go with Tang Yi’s face, and the author describes the face as having ‘clear lines’ - Like I said, this is a little weird for me to read even in Chinese

**LOL WHAT IS THIS ENTIRE PARA DEDICATED TO TANG YI’S SWEAT-SOAKED BODY THE AUTHOR IS THIRSTY (Wei: We’re all thirsty for Tang Yi. Feed our fantasies, Author.)

*** literally translated Shao Fei refers to ‘the citizen’s nanny’ which I think i may have mentioned in previous chapters like i think the first chapter - but as Wei pointed out calling him a nanny is a tad bit weird, so we changed it to civil servant

**** LINE is a chat messaging app from Japan I think, works like whatsapp but with better stickers hahaha (Wei: LINE, LET ME BUY THE HISTORY3 STICKERS DAMN IT)

***** what is with this fixation of describing what every character is wearing

#history 3: 圈套 #history 3: trapped #history3圈套 #history3: trapped #history3: trap #history3 novel #translations #ch 4 is out

[aimieshoward]

We’re Stronger Together - Katherine Howard and Catherine of Aragon Friendship

Word count: 2892

Possible Triggers: Panic attacks, Religion(?), Scratches/Accidental self-harm (none of it is graphic but just be careful, if you’re easily triggered, please don’t read it... stay safe. :))

Hello, here’s a friendship fic of K Howard and Catherine of Aragon because I have been robbed of seeing them interact and they’re my favourites. (any constructive criticism is appreciated as this is my first Six fic) [all the other queens appear too]

She opened the door to find her standing there, crying. Young Katherine Howard, a girl of only 19, stood at her window, tears streaming down her face, silently crying. Catherine of Aragon stepped quietly into the room, closing the door lightly behind her. “Hey, Katherine,” she moved closer, her voice low as to not scare the girl, “lunch is ready, Jane asked me to come get you.”  The teen did not respond verbally, she didn’t even show any indication of hearing the Spanish queen. 

“Katherine?” Catherine hadn’t known the younger woman in her past life, and it hadn’t been long since they had been reincarnated in this one. In fact, today marked their 3rd week in the shared apartment. As a result, they hadn’t had much time to bond and Catherine was unaware of how to approach Katherine Howard.  “Hey Kat, did you hear me? Lunch is ready.” Catherine of Aragon stood beside her, taking note of how still the girl had become.

Aragon was startled as the pink-haired queen’s hand suddenly shot up to her neck, scratching at it feverously. “Hey, Kat, Kat, don’t do that,” Aragon was growing worried and grabbed the girl’s wrist; using her full strength she managed to turn the girl towards her. Her heart broke at the sight; the tears streaming from clouded eyes, the raw scratches lining her throat. “Katherine, can you hear me? It’s Catherine,” the older woman desperately tried to break through to the teenager, holding both of her wrists tightly so she couldn’t further hurt herself.

Aragon wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but she knew she needed to help the sobbing girl in front of her. Katherine tried desperately to pry her wrists from the other queen, however Aragon was too strong. “I can’t let you hurt yourself Kat,” she mumbled hurriedly to the girl who was now trembling in her grasp. Kat’s breathing was becoming increasingly laboured as her anxiety built and Aragon soon realised that she was having a full-blown panic attack. Annoyed at herself for not realising it sooner, Aragon tried her very hardest to calm the girl down.

“Katherine Howard,” she started, trying to catch the girl’s eye but still refusing to let go of her wrists, “you need to calm down.” Catherine mentally slapped herself at the statement, of course Katherine needed to calm down, but, how could she? The older queen lowered the both to the floor; she was worried that in her state Katherine may pass out and being closer to the floor if she did would definitely hurt less. She raked her brain, trying to remember any techniques to calm her nerves. “Hey Kitty,” she used the nickname Anne used for her cousin, hoping it would somehow break through to her, but it seemed that she was too far gone at this point to even notice, I need you to follow my breathing okay?”

Kitty’s eyes, although clouded over were moving rapidly, and, frankly, it was making Aragon extremely scared. She wanted nothing more than to help the trembling teen. She began to even out her breaths, making them nice and slow, hoping Kitty would latch onto them. Katherine’s breathing slowed for a second, and Aragon was hopeful, but then it immediately got even worse. Aragon was screaming at herself in her head, ‘what do I do?’  

Knowing no other solution, she knew she needed someone else to take over. She hated yelling, especially across the house, but everyone else was downstairs eating so it needed to be done. “GUYS! HELP!” Aragon tried to keep her tone calm, for Howard’s sake, but you could hear just how terrified the Spanish queen was. She heard screeching of the chairs on the kitchen floor, a sign the queens had heard her, and sighed in relief. Turning her head back towards the pink-haired girl, she whispered encouragingly, “they’re coming Kitty, you’re going to be okay.”

The other four queens had been sat downstairs, enjoying the lunch Jane had prepared for them and talking about their past lives. This was their attempt at bonding, and, to be truthful, it had been going quite well. That was until they heard the desperate screams from upstairs. They all looked at each other before immediately standing up and running up to Katherine’s room. Anne got there first, throwing the door open. She spotted the queens immediately, her eyes locking with Aragon as she restrained her cousin. She was by her side in a second, crouching to their eye level. “What’s happening Catherine?” she asked desperately, her eyes flicking backwards and forwards between the pair.

“She’s having a panic attack; I don’t know how to calm her down,” Catherine mumbled nervously. Jane rushed over to them, Cleves hot on her heels. “Is she okay?” Jane asked, observing the trembling girl. Cleves looked at Katherine sympathetically, having been close to her in their previous lives, Anna had prayed that this life would be bliss for Kitty; clearly that was not the case. “Jane, take Boleyn and Aragon next door please,” she instructed firmly, knowing that Kitty needed people she knew with her and Anne was in too much of a state to be much help, “Catherine and I will help Kat.”

“I-I can’t leave her,” Aragon stuttered, looking into the cloudy eyes of the teen. “We’ll calm her down,” Parr lightly laid her hand on her Godmother’s shoulder, “I promise.” Finally, the pair were escorted into Jane’s room, Seymour sitting them both on the bed to calm down. Catherine of Aragon immediately began to pray for Katherine; she prayed that she would be okay, that whatever negative events that had triggered the attack would be dispelled, and that the younger wife’s recovery would be speedy.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” Anne muttered, angrily picking at the lint on Jane’s old blanket. Jane sat next to her, pulling the brunette into a side hug, “we know Anne. We’ll help her through it; together.” Anne pulled away after a moment, grabbing Seymour’s hand in her left and Aragon’s hand in her right, “together.” Never did Aragon see herself being civil with the Boleyn girl, yet here she was, hands clasped tightly together.

 Parr entered the room, with Cleves trailing behind her, approximately 10 minutes later. Immediately the 3 women’s heads shot up, expectantly. “She’s fine now, its over,” Parr confirmed, sighing, “it took a lot out of her, she’s sleeping now.” The others breathed in relief that the girl was okay but were clearly still upset about the events that had unfolded. “Hey Jane, you can sew pretty well right?” Cleves asked, catching the attention of those in the room. Jane nodded in confirmation, resulting in Cleves reaching into her pocket.

She pulled out a piece of materia and a metal clasp. “Kitty’s choker,” Anne muttered, taking it from the German and cradling it against her own chest. “She snapped it her attack,” Cleves acknowledged, “we’re pretty sure she had some sort of flashback to her beheading.” Aragon sadly replied, “that’s why she was scratching her neck. She was trying to get her choker off?” Parr considered it for a second, “yeah, or she was trying to get rid of the pain.”

“Umm,” Catherine sounded hesitant as she turned to the queens who had clamed the youngest down. The thought of Catherine of Aragon being unsure of something was enough to turn heads and all the queens listened attentively. “Can you teach me how to calm her down? What can I do if it happens again?” Boleyn smiled softly at the Spaniard at her side, maybe she and this ‘new’ Aragon would be able to get on. “Firstly Aragon, of course we can try and help you but ultimately it’s up to Kitty and there’s no guarantee these methods will work,” Parr began, glad Aragon wanted to help. It didn’t go unnoticed how Jane had grabbed a notebook and pen for herself to take notes.

“Aragon, did Kat fall or did you lower her?” Cleves asked, cutting in before the other queen could respond, she added, “in fact tell us everything you did.” Aragon met the expectant eyes of the other four and began to recount her experience. “I lowered Kat, I didn’t want her to get hurt if she passed out,” she began, receiving an approving head nod from Parr, “I tried to get her to match my breathing and she did for a second, then she just got worse.” “You did the right thing with the breathing,” Cleves smiled lightly in praise, “Aragon, may I ask if you were restraining Kitty in anyway?” “I was, I was holding her wrists down because she kept trying to scratch her neck,” she explained logically, “I didn’t want her to hurt herself.”

She found a new-found appreciation lay in the eyes of Boleyn when they met hers, and honestly it made Aragon happy. “That may be why she wouldn’t respond then,” Cleves muttered, matter of factly. The three on the bed raised their brows in confusion, “huh?” Boleyn asked. Parr took a deep breath, knowing that it wasn’t her story to tell, but the queens needed to understand it if they were to help Kat.

“Kat went through a lot in her past life,” Cleves began, feeling deeply saddened as she remembered what the girl had gone through at such a young age, “she was raped, sexually assaulted, abused by basically everyone she was ever ‘romantically’ involved with.” “Including her music teacher, Henry Mannox, when she was just 13,” Parr added on, gaging the reactions of the group, “now she has issues with touch. Especially when she’s in a panicked state.”

Aragon teared up at the thought, she had ultimately made Katherine suffer more when she was just trying to help. “It’s not your fault Catherine,” Parr smiled lightly, trying to comfort the distressed woman, “she probably couldn’t have distinguished your touch from her past tormentors’.” Aragon sighed, her head falling to her chest, “what was I supposed to do though; she was hurting herself.” Parr hopped up to sit next to her, wrapping her arm round her godmother’s shoulder, “Kat relies a lot on latching to voices that she knows belong to people who won’t hurt her, talking to her is the best way to break it.”

Jane closed her notebook, and knelt in front of Aragon, squeezing the Spanish queen’s hands, “I’m proud of you, for trying to help Katherine, and for calling for us when you needed help.” Aragon smiled back; surprised when she felt Anne lean heavily into her side, she lifted her arm and hugged the girl closer. Anna joined soon after that and they sat in the large group hug, silent as they all thought about how they would help the girl. Once they pulled back, Jane made sure they all looked at her, “guys, if any of you need to talk to someone about anything. You’re going through what Kit is, you’re feeling down, you just want to talk, anything. I will always be here.”

The other queens agreed, offering their support to each other. “It’s crazy how in our first lives it was kind of ‘every man for herself’,” Boleyn mused, “but here we’ve all got each other’s backs.” The women nodded, sharing content smiles. “We’re stronger when we’re together,” Cleves smirked, “when we’re Six.” A quiet silence fell over the room as the peace, and a strengthened bond, fell into place, the rest of the evening proceeding.

 Aragon noted her clock on her bedside table;’22:53’ it read. Standing from her desk, she got herself ready for a well-deserved rest, and knelt at her bedside to say her nightly prayer. She thanked her God for all the things she treasured in her life, and this time the list of things that were precious to her was longer than usual. “Thank you Father, for granting me another chance of life, here in the 21st Century,” a small smile fell on her lips, “thank you for giving me the opportunity to restore my relationships with people from my past, allowing me to form friendships with them and with those who I did not know back then but have been gifted to me now. Thank you, Father, for allowing me to experience this new adventure with these 5 amazing women at my side, I will not let you down.”

She continued on with her prayer until she reached the subject that she had been praying for earlier that morning; Katherine Howard. “Dear Lord, I pray for you to help young Katherine Howard. The girl has a pure heart and suffers terribly so due to the events of her past life. Please Lord, banish the demons that haunt her, let her be happy and joyous in this new life. And Father, please allow me the chance to help her, allow me the ability to comfort her and soothe her when her anxiety is too much. Thank you, Father, Amen.”

She stood shakily, feeling a connection with her God that she had not felt in a long time; he had heard her, and she knew it. The queen climbed into bed, pulling her covers right up to her chin and fell into a peaceful slumber.

Being awaken wasn’t in Aragon’s plans so, when she found her eyes slowly opening, she groaned quietly. She looked at her clock once again: this time the display told her that it was 3:34am. She turned over, planning to get a few more hours rest, in attempt to ignore whatever had woken her up in the first place. That’s the moment Catherine heard it though, the soft thud of feet walking up and down the corridor outside her room.

She waited for it to stop, and when it didn’t immediately, Catherine angrily threw back her duvet and shuffled over to the door. Aragon hated being woken up and whoever was responsible was about to see, first-hand, what the consequence was. Her furious expression fell as she pulled open her door to find Katherine Howard frozen on the spot, looking at her with terrified eyes. “Katherine,” she mumbled, wondering if she was dreaming up the image of the young adult at her doorway. The girl had her long hair plaited, wearing a hot pink nightshirt that was two sizes too big, and was clutching desperately onto the hand of a fuzzy pink bear; she looked so young in that instance that Catherine’s maternal instincts kicked in and she immediately wanted to protect the girl.

“Oh, Catherine, I was just wondering if… no it’s stupid, I’ve woken you up. I’m so sorry,” Katherine spun on her heel and went to run back to her bedroom. “Kat,” Aragon smiled kindly, opening her door wider, “come in, it’s okay.” The girl timidly entered the room, nodding in thanks to the queen. Catherine closed her door, turning to the younger queen, “what’s the matter Katherine?” “I, umm, wanted to thank you for this afternoon,” their eyes met as Kitty looked up, “I heard what you did for me and I really appreciate it.”

Aragon softened, a light smile playing on her lips, as Katherine continued, “I’m sorry I couldn’t snap out of it with you.” Catherine could see, even in the low light of her room, that Katherine’s face was turning red in embarrassment. “It’s okay Kat,” she smiled, “I get it. You don’t have to thank me though, of course I’d help you.” Aragon went to reach for Katherine’s hand but pulled her own back slowly when she remembered what Cleves and Parr had told her.

Katherine noticed, and, instead of telling Catherine directly that she would allow it, reached her own hand out to hold the Spanish queen’s. “I’m okay Catherine, you can touch me,” Katherine pulled the corners of her mouth up when she felt the light squeeze from the Spaniard, “I want to get better with physical touches and stuff. I should be okay as long as I’m aware of who is touching me.” Aragon acknowledged the girl’s statement as she traced light circles on the back of her hand, “Kat, can I hug you?”

The pink-haired girl, once again, did not give a verbal answer and, instead, immediately threw herself into the older queen’s arms. Catherine felt herself tearing up, and furiously batted her eyelashes to try and get rid of them before they fell. Kitty looked up, smirking as she brought her hand up to wipe a stray tear which had escaped, “you’re allowed to cry, y’know?” “Don’t tell Boleyn,” Aragon smiled back, hugging the laughing girl closer, “she’d never let me hear the end of it.” “Promise,” Katherine nodded, pulling back slightly but still holding onto Catherine, “I’m serious though, if you need to cry, feel free. I’ll be there for you if you need support.”

Aragon just laughed, “I had this exact conversation with the others this afternoon.” “Great minds think alike,” Katherine winked, placing a delicate kiss on Aragon’s cheek as they pulled back. She stood, looking at the Spanish queen for a second more before turning on her heels to retreat back to her bedroom. “Night Catherine.” “Night Kitty, sleep well,” Catherine mumbled as she climbed back under her covers, a content smile on her face as she fell back to sleep. Maybe this whole reincarnation thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#katherinehoward #katherine howard #catherine of aragon #sixthemusical #six #give me more of this friendship #the other queens appear #sixfic

[jamiefairfaxisntcool]

/mu/core album review | Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

/mu/core album review #1

this week on /mu/core album review, we look at:

Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Ah yes, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. The album that’s mostly known as either, “that one weird album from the 90s,” or, “/mu/ basic bitch meme music.” If you’re anywhere past a casual music fan, you have most-likely heard some songs off this project, if not the whole thing, doubly so if you’re into 90s culture, Indie, or any sort of Art-Rock or Folk movements. As I type this, the most popular YouTube rip of the album has about 4.3 million views, a playlist separating each track stands at 500,000 views, and the title track has a remarkable 40,733,956 plays on Spotify. Holy shit, to put that into perspective: AV Club writes that, “In The Aeroplane Over The Sea was originally slated to sell about 7,000 copies,” that’s roughly 5,819 times the predicted sales numbers of the album on just that song. This also means that this song has been listened to for approximately 131,163,338 minutes, a total of around 131,163,299 more minutes than the actual album length. Humanity has spent a collective 249 years listening to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Oh, and that’s just the title track.

If I couldn’t spell it out so clearly there, this album is fucking outrageously popular.

Even if you haven’t heard any material off the LP, this album is memed pretty heavily in the music corners of the internet. I don’t think I can find a single music meme page or forum that hasn’t jumped upon the ITAOTS or NMH bandwagon.

At this current point in time, ITAOTS has became a permanent resident in the zeitgeist of internet music culture. NMH, and by extension, it’s creator, Jeff Mangum have been elevated to a cult of personality status. The band and this project are accompanied by a never-ending choir: 15-25 year old sad white boys who cry while sing-screeching about semen and Anne Frank and poorly play open chords on their detuned Ibanez acoustics.

It’s oddly beautiful.

The album is so deceptively simple, so creatively cryptic and has all the elements of a slog faux-folk fest filled with whining that would bore me to so many tears that they could rival the sad boy indie kids who lose their e-girls to their more socially active explore-page bait counterparts. To a person not familiar with it, ITAOTS could look like an over hyped, masturbatory depression tape. It looks boring. It looks like it should be boring.

If it should be boring, then why have I only listened to it and absolutely nothing else for the last two days?

This isn’t a joke, I revisited the album of course to refresh myself before sitting down and writing this review. I kept listening, over the course of a school day, in-between production and songwriting sets, while playing games, and as I write this, I just finished my eighth spin of the record. Before those last two days, I had only listened to the album probably twice. 

I remember listening to it back in seventh grade and not particularly disliking it. I was really into Yes and a lot of other Prog and Psych bands, but I wasn’t particularly impressed with the almost yuppie voice that Jeff had used on the record compared to vocal beasts like Freddie Mercury, Bowie, and Jon Anderson. Later on, I listened in freshman year, and I appreciated it much more, and had a few songs come up in my shuffle play, but thought nothing much of it.

Now, war had changed.

part 1: i’m the fucking carrot king

As I plopped down in my computer chair, my window crackled and banged like a distant firecracker with the smack of heavy rains on a Summer afternoon. I placed my headphones firmly atop my ears, closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. I heard the opening chords of The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 1 and tried not just to hear the instrumentation, but also pay attention to the lyrical content of Mr. Mangum.

When you were young, you were the king of carrot flowers And how you built a tower tumbling through the trees In holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet

Okay, so what the fuck is actually happening here?

Upon my listens, I inferred that Jeff is speaking to another party here, most likely a female love interest, in what seemingly starts in a nostalgic tone. This sounds almost like a picturesque, coming-of-age, Americana film. Maybe one starring Molly Ringwald and River Phoenix, with a surprise cameo from someone famous back then like Jack Nicholson. Maybe John Candy, with a John Hughes script. Everything would have those faded out, classic colors, a hearkened back era. Quickly, by halfway through the first act, the tone shifts. A darker mood, a stark, grim reminder that life wasn’t always sunny and shinning in Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.

And your mom would stick a fork right into daddy's shoulder And dad would throw the garbage all across the floor As we would lay and learn what each other's bodies were for

The Mang informs us of a horrific family life, specifically about what seems to be his dad’s, stepmom’s, and stepsister’s interpersonal relationships. The lines are obvious and straightforward, the life of our protagonist was rife with unhealthy familial and sexual relationships, and a sense of love and sweetness was not found there. Keep that in mind when thinking about later songs such as Oh Comely.

After the somber intro of Carrot Flowers Pt. 1, we reach my personal least favorite track on the album: The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 2 and 3.

Look, I know the meme. “I LOOOOOOOOOVE JESUUUS CHUHRIEEEIISSSSTT,” and all that shit. I’m not even worked up about that line in particular, I just dislike Pt. 3. It’s the weakest of the upbeat songs on the album, with the weird yodel-screech voice that Gumman performs with really takes me out of the experience, which sucks because the buildup and atmosphere of Pt. 2 felt pretty amazing. Luckily, Pt. 3 is fairly short, so we don’t have to worry about it too much.

part 2: earth angel’s thesis

The title track for this album is one of the best songs on this album, no fucking contest. In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, Oh Comely, The Fool, and Two-Headed Boy Pt. 2 are top contenders when discussing this album. If you like the faster, fuzzier, upbeat songs you could probably substitute The Fool for Holland, 1945.

The title track has a familiar sounding chord progression and we can hear Gum from Jet Set Radio’s saccharine but yelp-y voice belt out from atop the mountains his undying love and admiration for... Anne Frank?

What a beautiful face I have found in this place That is circling all round the sun What a beautiful dream That could flash on the screen In a blink of an eye and be gone from me

In the first verse, Geoff mentions meeting or viewing a beautiful person on this fleeting rock circling round the Sun. He also matches this with the idea that it’s truly futile for him to chase after this beauty, as it is only a dream that could escape him when he awakes. El Jefé has actually mentioned that some of his surrealist lyrics are derived from dreams. Perhaps these lines could imply a more literal dream fading? I don’t exactly know, all I know is what I interpreted.

The instrumentation of this piece is nothing straying from NMH’s usual repertoire: Mandrake on Guitar and Vocals, Scott Spillane on the Horns, Robert Schneider on Bass and Production, Julian Koster playing... something. What is he playing? Wait, give me a second.

He’s playing the Singing Saw? I thought it was like, a Theremin. What the fuck is a Singing Saw?

Oh.

Okay sure, you can play that, however the fuck you do that.

And finally we have Jeremy Barnes on Drums.

The personnel handle the music with a light, bouncy feeling, and the tone and timbre remind me of a faded, old, seaside town on the east coast. Another thing to mention is that the chord progression is G-Em-C-D; I-vi-IV-V. A funny thing I noticed is that this song shares a chord progression with tons of songs from the 50’s and early 60’s, which adds to the waning Americana feeling, but it more specifically shares that progression with Earth Angel by The Penguins. In the 80’s film, Back To The Future, Marvin Berry covers the song with his band for the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance where Marty’s dad and mom have to dance to ensure that the future stays intact. There’s no further real connection, but I thought that was kinda cool to mention.

After looking through the lyrics for In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, I will admit, as a brainlet Two-Headed Boy Pt. 1 eluded me. Patrolling through Genius and some other reviews, I guess the consensus about this track was that it was about Anne Frank again? Manta Jeff’s cryptic lyricism continues to fool me. Besides the lyrics, this track mostly remains a piece of really good filler.

part 3: stop the military occupation of my brainwaves

The Fool is amazing, anyone who says it’s filler is wrong. I know I might anger some people by literally implying that Two-Headed Boy Pt. 1 was filler, but seriously The Fool just makes me a feel a way. My brain creates a scene reminiscent of a depressing diesel-punk Les Misérables. Even though Scotch Spillage’s fantastic piece for horns is beautifully imperfect, it lacks lyrical content and is short and length. So, let’s instead talk about Holland, 1945.

This awesome, uptempo, almost punk-like piece of fuzzy brass is groovy son. It’s probably the song you could show someone not familiar with this project and they’d be like, “Oh, is this Cake? Why is the lead singer singing so high now?”

Holland, 1945 is a song that you can just listen for the instrumentation. Holland, 1945 is a song that promotes peace and love. There’s so many great things I can say about Holland, 1945. How it’s theme is so perfectly fitting for today’s political climate, how it manages to blend these psychedelic and bluesy timbres with a fast and loud sound and how well it continued the semi-conceptual narrative of Joff’s admiration and love for... Anne Frank.

Okay, fuck it, I have to say it. It’s bothered me ever since I discovered it.

Why Anne Frank? Like, I know why Anne Frank, but I mean like, why, y’know? I’ll say I admire Anne Frank, she was trying her best to live a normal life in a terrifying time to be alive, but I never wanted to fuck her. xxJeffxx’s mentions of Anne kind of make me raise an eyebrow. Especially because the album’s not just about her either. When he gets sexual, it’s difficult to determine whether he is mentioning a third party or Anne, which would be pretty weird, as she was 15 when she died and Heff was 28 when he wrote this. Maybe this is just some patrician music shit that I’m too plebeian to understand, like heated toilet seats or drinking for fun rather than to drown the pain. Maybe I haven’t sat down and watched enough flowery-squarespace-sponsored-lofi-hip-hop-muzak-using-pretentious video essayists to understand it, but what do I know.

part 4: the proletariat cries

To wrap on the second half of the album, this is the half that I cried in.

Communist Daughter is a good song, but with how short it is, it left me wanting more. This track is one of the few that actually features a soft-spoken Jeffen, and its open and dark but dreamy atmosphere left my jaw agape. The mountaintops weren’t the only thing stained.

Oh Comely, Oh Comely. Oh Comely is a song that deserves its own review. The lyrical chops of The Mangum Magnum are on full display as he belts somber, brutal verse after verse, with plenty of juxtaposition between sickening, sexual and vile situations alongside a description of a sweet, innocent young girl, just trying to survive with a guitar by her side. This beautiful, lovely girl gets taken advantage by someone, some people, perhaps even Yeff himself, only seen as an easy lay, a whore, like the ones her father visits often. He disgustingly describes semen in the garden, and her making miracles with her mouth, but I didn’t get a tone similar to so many songs about “sexual-empowerment.” The song is about self-deprecating depression leading to her being used, perhaps even abused. A situation all too real, too close to many of us. As I type this, I don’t know what to think. A woman should of course have individual sexual freedom, but this song doesn’t describe that. It describes trauma, emotional, psychological trauma. Meaningless sex, a rotten smell, staining the flower of a woman, all of this language that could be simply described as gross. This isn’t a happy song about fucking bitches. This song is about how a girl wanted to play music, pluck vines and was taken advantage of, reduced to her roots, and deflowered. Fuck. I wish I could save her. In some sort of time machine.

Two-Headed Boy could refer to a number of things. I have a head canon. This girl, Comely, is being used by the Two-Headed Boy for sexual favors. The Two-Headed Boy then “repays” her in friendship and music, playing their silly little songs. On the surface, Comely assumes the Two-Headed Boy trusts her and cares for her, but really all he wants is sex. Comely, living in a broken home and without a proper male figure in their life, is conned by the Two-Headed Boy, and just wants to live a normal life. Comely is trapped. She’s living in a place that is surrounded by the texture of scum and she knows it, she just can’t call upon the strength to leave. She’s trapped in a home, a ghetto, wanting to live a normal life, but she’s been placed here by the Two-Headed Boy, who knew her mother and father were broken, and she would be too. The Two-Headed Boy broke in, claimed to be her friend, and supports her, before defiling her. Comely was pretty, bright, and intelligent. She was just in a bad situation.

Comely was Anne Frank.

Not to say that they were literally one in the same, but I mean J. Mangum (private eye) is comparing two children, ripped from their lives by this awful world, and intertwining them, blurring the lines.

Who’s the Two-Headed Boy? As I said, it could be a number of people. Nazis, Peter van Pels, hell, even Jeff Manga himself could be the Two-Headed Boy. It doesn’t matter as long as we realize the relationship between oppressed and oppressor.

There is a glimmer of hope for Comely though. Read the closing words from Two-Headed Boy Pt. 2:

Two headed boy, she is all you could need She will feed you tomatoes and radio wires And retire to sheets safe and clean But don't hate her when she gets up to leave

Comely and the Two-Headed Boy split away from each other. Comely leaves the Two-Headed Boy, and the narrator says not to hate her when she leaves. On a deeper level, this could be an introspective Jeff Mangum relating on his past. I don’t really know.

outro

Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

9/10

What did you think? Was I way off the mark, or do you agree? What should I have covered? What did you like, what did you dislike, I’m all ears. Leave a follow and a like if you liked it and I’ll see you on Wednesday.

#neutral milk hotel #music #music review #james fairfax #mu #/mu/core #folk #fuzzfolk #rock #anne frank

[bellatrixobsessed1]

A Flame For A Cabbage (Part 15)

The super important and totally mandatory filler episode!

The camera pans in and out several times before finally coming into focus. Sure, we can be doing a chapter on the Southern Raiders where Sie hunts Zuko & down and tries to take vengeance on them for ruining his perfect life. Instead we view a simple cabbage merchant wearing a blue apron with cabbages embroidered upon it, matching oven mitts, and a chef hat. Beneath the chef’s hat she has her hair bound in its usual topknot with a few cute little cabbage and caterpillar hair clips. The cabbage merchant is adorable and wholesome.

Next to her is her lovely, equally adorable assistant, Jet. He to wears an apron. He does not wear a shirt under that apron. But the apron reads, ‘kiss the cook’ and, in significantly smaller print, ‘please, he’s lonely.’

Iroh and Zuko are also there. They have chosen to wear the standard Jasmine dragon uniforms. But Iroh still wears his cool™ sunglasses. He has not taken them off since he acquired them. They make him feel young again.

“Are we rolling?” Zuko asks.

“I think that we are.” Jet replies.

Iroh gives cheerful finger guns.

Azula turns to the camera and smile. “Hi, I’m cabbage merchant, Azula and this is my boyfriend and assistant, Jet.”

He smiles and waves at the camera.

“This is my future business partner, uncle Iroh. He isn’t my uncle, but he is someone’s uncle.”

“He’s my uncle!” Zuko exclaims more joyfully than necessary.

“And that’s Zuko!” Azula points at him. “And today we are going to be showing you how to cook my favorite recipes; sauteed cabbage and southern fire-fried cabbage! And after that, my good friends, Iroh and Zuko will show you how to brew up a good cup of tea!” With a charming sound of tinkling wind chimes and a swirl of white-pink sparkles, the screen flashes black for approximately 2.5 seconds before the scene changes.

The kitchen is now set up and everyone is in position. On the cooking counter you can see several tools; various cutting knives, one Kenu Reeves knife, spoons, fork, a ladle, a rolling pin (this is not necessary, but Azula likes to leave it out just in case), and one roll of toilet paper! There is no hand sanitizer, that’s what the toilet paper is for! Also on the counter are the ingredients for a perfect sauteed cabbage. There is a bottle of olive oil, a cabbage, two sticks of butter, another cabbage, salt ‘n pepa (like the band, push it real good), more cabbage, one onion, and more cabbages. ‘ A ludacris amount of cabbage. As in, rap artist, ludacris (who is so kindly providing the background music for today’s episode of Azula’s Bitchin’ Kitchin) had stood still while Azula stacked a tower of cabbages to match his height and body mass.

Azula looks up at the camera. “Okay, first things first. We have to make sure our cooking area is sanitized and free of any nasty viruses that may or may not be currently plaguing your society. I would like to think that everyone knows how to sanitize a workspace, but a wise man…” Iroh gives a wave, “...once told me; people are like bees. Bees follow a queen. If the queen is dumb then the whole swam is dumb. You must always assume that the queen is dumb and attempt to teach the queen so that the rest of her swarm may become smarter too.” Azula pauses, hoping that she relayed Iroh’s teaching correctly. “I don’t know who the queen of your society is but whoever you are, listen closely. To sanitize a work space you must unravel exactly three squares of your toilet paper. No more, no less. If you use less toilet paper then your area will not be sufficiently clean. If you use too much then an angry spirit will rise up and curse your family name for generations to come for being wasteful. Please only use three squares exactly!” Azula takes three squares of toilet paper. “Now all you have to do is simply slide your toilet paper over each and every surface. The first square is used to get the right side and the third square will clean the left. Use the second square to clean your hands.” Azula hands Jet the first and third squares, he promptly begins brushing it over every inch of the room starting at the back right corner and working his way to the front right. He repeats this for the left and then Azula furiously runs the toilet paper over her hands.

“Now that we have cleaned our bitchin’ kitchen’ it is time to begin cooking. Preheat your oven. I usually like to keep my oven at a nice and toasty 666!”  She looks behind her. Ozai smiles and waves at the camera as he lights the stove.

“We don’t actually use the oven for this recipe, but it is good to always turn your oven on so that it doesn’t feel left out!” She explains happily. Jet, Iroh, and Zuko nod in agreement.

“Now that you have your oven feeling welcomed and included, we can begin cooking! First you must take one of your beautiful, precious cabbages and slice it down the middle.” She pauses. Jet holds up the cabbage for the viewer to marvel at. It is a perfectly lush and green cabbage. He then hands it to her. “Now, I know that you probably have mixed feelings about stabbing a cabbage. But I assure you that it is fine so long as you thank the cabbage for its sacrifice before doing so.”

Azula closes her eyes and whispers something to her cabbage. The cabbage giggles. And then she cuts it open, shedding a few tears. “Now, many chefs will tell you to discard the cores. They are wrong! The cores of  cabbages are the hearts of cabbages and they are not to be ill treated. I like to store mine in jars. Jet…”

Jet nods and pulls out a box with several locks and hexes that need to be broken through before it opens. Azula pulls out a jar full of cabbage cores and tenderly places that one within. “Not only is it respectful to keep a cabbage’s heart, but it is also useful; cabbage cores can be used to summon the void to consume the life essence of your foes!”

“Oh, sounds scary, Azula!” Jet remarks.

“It is, Jet. But don’t worry, I’ve only ever used them on my mother.” She says with that same cheery tone and demeanor.

“The next step is to ignore the oven and heat a saute pot on the stove. Now, this is somewhat difficult because your oven will cry and tell you that it is insecure, trying to guilt you into using it. This is a trap. Please ignore your oven!” Azula cautions. “Go on, Jet.”

“Please love me! I need friends too!” The oven begs as Jet places the pot on the stove. The oven sounds curiously like the cabbage merchant, “I didn’t mean to take over Ba Sing Se and kill the Avatar, don’t hate me.” Jet continues to ignore the oven that sounds uncannily like Azula as he wanders back to the real Azula’s side.

“Now, that was disturbing!” Azula comments. “But it is completely normal.”

Jet holds up a stick of butter and some olive oil. He is a little early, but Azula can’t fault him for being eager!

“The next thing that you’ll want to do is melt some butter in the pot and add your olive oil. By this time you oven has already gone through the five stages of grief and has accepted that you are not going to use it this time around. On some occasions it will whisper one final plea, so no one will blame you if you still wish to proceed with caution.”

She watches jet pour in some olive oil and butter. “You’ve probably noticed that I haven’t told you how much olive oil and butter to add. This is because you will know in you heart what the right amount is for you and  your family or friends. I know that some of you are thinking, ‘but Azula, I am eating alone!’ This is not true viewers! You are never alone; the void, a ghost, and/or a dilliuminati agent will always join you. Even if you can’t see your companion, they are there.”

“I eat with the void every day!” Zuko puts in.

“Wonderful to hear, Zuko.” Azula says before turning back to the camera. “The next step is the most important. You will take your sacred cabbages and you will begin adding them to the pot. At the same time you will add your Salt ‘n Pppa.”

Jet carefully and lovingly adds some cabbage to the pot. “Salt ‘n Pepa, take it away!” The lights dim and the hip hop duo begin singing at the pot, coaxing it to cook.

“For about ten to fifteen minutes, you will stir your pot. Feel free to go five minutes shorter or longer depending on the situation at hand. If one of the following situations happen, please stir for five minutes less; if your cabbages tell you to stop and/or look fully cooked, if the void begins to open behind you, if the food smells like it is ready, if your cabbages are starting to burn, or--most importantly--if the oven begins to yearn for affection again. Stir for five minutes more if your cabbages haven’t sufficiently cooked, if they ask you to cook them longer, or if the void has possessed your soul and you physically cannot stop stirring.” She pauses. “If the void does possess your soul please contact your local priest and bomb disposal team immediately.”

With another sound of chimes and flash of sparkles the fifteen minutes of mundane stirring have passed. Azula now stands in front of the nearly finished meal. “This is the part where I add my secret ingredient. I will not tell you what it is, because it is a secret.”

She turns around, concealing something, hiding it from view. She puts it into the pot and there comes a series of sizzles and pops. It bursts into black flames, from which tormented wails can be heard--the voices of angst fics past. The fire dies down and the stove dings.

Cue windchimes and sparkles.

The kitchen is now neatly cleaned and Azula is holding up a totally delicious and healthy meal. “What am I holding?” She asks in a tone that indicates disgust.

“A cherry pit, merchant.” Answers a sheepish voice in the studio audience. It is one of Sie’s serving girls.

Azula shakes her head before realizing that she is indeed holding up a cherry pit and it is Jet who is holding up their newly cooked meal. “Oh. Hmm. Well that is strange. Tell me why, on the most important day of television history, one of you decided to put a pit in my sauteed cabbage!?”

“It wasn’t a decision, it was just a small mistake.” The serving girl squeaks.

“Small!? Do you realize what could have happened if I hadn’t sensed the pit in time?”

“I suppose you could have...choked?”

“No.” No that wasn’t it at all. “The cherry pit would have ruined the recipe.” Of course this is only scratching the surface. The cherry pit would have actually caused a ripple effect. You see, the cabbage merchant was going to send the sauteed cabbage to Qin Lee for his  birthday which, woefully, due to the virus, he was forced to spend in isolation--he is dissatisfied. But Qin Lee is deathly allergic to cherry pits. So he would have died. Now Qin Lee is in charge of making sure the Phoenix King’s air fleet is on course. With him having died, the fleet would have been exactly three feet and four inches off course. This would have had them right in the path of a large messenger hawk. The messenger hawk would have flown out of the way to avoid collision, instead colliding with Aang who would have fallen on top of Ozai resulting in a very awkward moment where Ozai would nervously stroke his beard and Aang would cough uneasily. But the force of Aang’s landing would have thrown Ozai’s ship off course, setting it in the path of the comet. The airship would have collided with the comet causing it to impact the earth. Ozai would cry out in jubulace because it would have obliterated Ba Sing Se. However, the fall of Ba Sing Se would have impacted trade, including to the Fire Nation. The global economy would have crashed. Ozai and princess Sie would be homeless because the people will have invaded the palace in a fit of anger. Society would succumb to anarchy and fall. A lone cabbage merchant would have pushed her stall across a deserted wasteland with nothing and no one to buy her cabbages. It would only be she and princess Sie and Earth Kingdom Azula (who is still no help, because she is only eight years old, but her eyebrows are still on fleek).

So it is a good thing that Azula had sensed the pit in time.

“I’m sorry, merchant.” The servant apologizes.

Azula sighes and rolls her eyes. “Fine, since it is a special day, I will show mercy.”

The servant sighs in relief.

“You are banished, leave my kitchen at once.”

The woman is terribly distraught, Azula’s Bitchin’ Kitchen is the only show she watches.

.oOo.

“HEY YOU! YES YOU! ARE YOU TIRED OF WARS BUT FINE WITH LIES AND TOTAL BULLSHIT!? CONTACT YOU LOCAL TRAVEL AGENT TODAY AND YOU CAN BE ON YOUR WAY TO BA SING SE!” Long Feng takes a deep breath. “BA SING SE HOSTS SEVERAL SCENIC WALLS THAT YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO EXIT! WE HAVE FIRST CLASS RESTAURANTS LIKE THE JASMINE DRAGON AND WONDERFUL BRAINWASHING FACILITIES LIKE LAKE LOGAI SPA RESORT!”

“RIDE YOUR FLYING BISON ON OVER TO BA SING SE, DO IT TODAY!” Long Fang adds.

Long Feng and Long Feng turn to the camera in unison. “BOOK YOUR FLIGHT TODAY AND COME TO BA SING SE!”

.oOo.

There comes the sound of peaceful harp music and a bubbling brook. The image changes slightly and there is a birdseye view of a twisting and turning sapphire blue river. Within the river are funky psychedelic rainbows.

There is the sound of wind instruments. Suddenly the screen shows a deep and lush forest. A deer runs out.

The image changes again to tea light candles and a handful of beads. There is a slight whistle under the sound of wind instruments and harps.

The forest is back. The deer turns its head. It has two noses where its eyes should be and one eye where its nose should be. The swirling rainbow pattern now translucently overlays the image of the deer, darkening until only the eye can be seen.

The music grows louder and the pattern begins to swirl.

Text appears on the screen; “Guru Phatik’s Self-Help/Therapy. Join us today. Jooooin usssssss.”

.oOo.

A loud screeching, drilling noise plays over a black screen for forty-five seconds. That is it. That’s the commercial. No one is quite sure what it is supposed to be advertising, but Sie speculates that it is an add for the drill that had penetrated Ba Sing Se.

.oOo.

“Aaaand we’re back!” Azula declares. “Iroh and Zuko will now show you how to make lavender & cabbage tea! It is a brand new recipe that will be coming to the Jasmine Dragon after we sign some contracts to solidify our business partnership!” She nods at Iroh, “go on, Iroh.”

Iroh clears his throat. “Good evening everyone, I hope that you are all having a lovely afternoon.”

“Uncle, time zones exist and some people might be reading this at three in the morning instead of sleeping like a responsible person should.”

“I apologize.” Iroh says. “A good morning, afternoon, or night to all of you!”  He only says this out of respect for his nephew, because he knows that time is a social construct so it doesn’t really matter anyways. Azula always starts her show at 2:00 in the afternoon. But for most people, it is 7:00 at night.

“I am very excited to share this recipe with everyone. I hope that it will bring joy and comfort into your homes.” Iroh pauses and clasps his hands together. “Now, you might be thinking that making tea is as simple as grabbing a tea bag and swishing it around for a bit. But that only gets you a cup of hot leaf juice.”

A ‘booing’ track plays.

“But if you follow my instructions closely, you will have your very own cup of lavender-cabbage tea.”

“I’m really excited, uncle!” Zuko’s eyes twinkle with delight. “Let’s get started.”

“Yes, let’s make some tea!” He raises a finger and dashes across the kitchen.

“Remember, ignore the oven!” Azula cautions.”

.oOo.

“Man, I hate this show!” Sie comments before flipping the channel.

He is met with a bombastic guitar riff. “Yo! What’s up muthafukas! It’s yer gurl Toph and yer boi Twinkle Toze! Today we’re going to ride a giant serpent through Serpent's Pass while Sokka and Katara look on in horror and then we’ll head off to a hidden underground library to piss off an uptight owl!”

“Yeah, this is more like it.” Sie nods to himself. He holds a tub of ice cream to his chest, knowing that this show will only fill the emptiness of TyLee’s betrayal for approximately an hour.

#Avatar #Azula #Iroh #Zuko #Jet #Ozai #Cabbage Man #Aang #Toph #Fanfiction

[supposed2bfunny]

2doc Week Day 5- Vacation

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mentions of sex and drugs/drug addiction 

“Can I be honest?” Stu asked, licking spicy red sauce off his fingers as he passed what remained of his bomba to Murdoc.

“Uh-oh,” the bassist looked at him wearily as they wandered through Parc Güell. “Here it comes.”

“Relax. I was just going to say, I’m surprised. I wouldn’t have thought Barcelona would be your first choice.”

Murdoc chewed the last bites of the potato croquette and tossed the empty container in a nearby trashcan. “Well, it was this time around. You chose Jamaica for our anniversary, I chose Spain for the anniversary of, erm, ‘D-Day.’” He tapped a finger against the singer’s temple playfully, looking into his black eyes, the result of an act of stupidity that had happened over two decades ago that they had celebrated every since.

“It was a good choice,” the singer confessed. “The castle was really cool, and I didn’t really understand most of that Dalí museum, but it was colorful. The food’s been great and the beaches in Spain are always wonderful.”

“And look at that view,” Murdoc exclaimed, sitting down on the mosaic-covered bench to point at a particularly stunning vista of the city. “You can’t beat that!”

“Yeah, that’s pretty, for sure.”

“Get in the shot, Stu, let’s get another picture for Twitter!”

“Murdoc, you’ve posted like two hundred pictures of me today alone; your followers are going to hate you!”

“Half of ‘em already do, bluebird,” he quipped with a smirk, merrily snapping away regardless of his boyfriend’s protests.

“Okay, fine, but I want a picture of the two of us,” he said after a few poses. He approached the man on the bench, reaching for his phone. “Can you figure out how to flip the camera or do you need me to—”

“I know how to get it to Selfie Mode, mate, I’m not that old!”

“Did you just call the front-facing camera ‘Selfie Mode?’”

Murdoc glared, but only for a moment, because then Stu was guiding his hand so that the angle was perfect: a shot of the two of them, cheek-to-cheek and giddy, and a view of the city behind them. They snapped one picture, two. Murdoc turned, kissed Stu’s cheek (the picture would become his home screen approximately two minutes later), then licked his cheek, earning a squeal.

“Don’t be gross when we’re in a public park!”

“Honestly, Stu, I’ve never heard such a boring string of words come out of your mouth,” he teased.

“You avoided my question,” the singer complained as they continued their walk.

“Which was?”

“Why Spain? I love it. I’m not complaining. I’ll definitely want to do this again. But why?”

Murdoc looked around, watching a small guided tour weave its way through the park, watching vacationing families with matching shirts, watching young couples, presumably on honeymoons. It was strange to observe all these people; somehow when he took trips alone with Stu, it often felt like the two of them had the world together in spite of crowds.

“We came here to promote Demon Days,” he finally said.

“Yeah. I remember that. We traveled all over Europe to promote that,” he replied.

“But it was here, in Barcelona that we started hooking up.”

Stuart slowed down then, watching the bassist carefully and struggling to remember. Those early days were a blur for him. His attempts to balance medications to keep the migraines at bay during their debut album had turned into a dangerous addiction by the second album, and whole weeks were often gone from his memory, sounding fresh when one of his bandmates would bring up a party or an interview that he couldn’t recall being present for.

“I think I remember that…we were in the hotel by the water, right? So we stayed here more than a day...”

“We were scheduled to be here four days, three nights,” Murdoc helped him out, pausing to purchase some bottled water from a cart as the heat of the day wore on. “You and I stayed an extra two days.”

Stu furrowed his brow. “Why?”

Murdoc took a sip of water, passed the bottle to the younger man. “Because you and I spent almost the entirety of the trip in my hotel room, bluebird.”

Just like that, an image of the hotel’s interior jogged his memory, and he could remember kissing Murdoc feverishly in the elevator, breaking apart when they stopped on a floor to pick up a large family before finally making it to their own floor. He could remember the master bathroom in Murdoc’s hotel suite, and taking a shower with the bassist in there. He could remember ordering room service when they were famished from their activities, and he distinctly remembered them sharing a plate of cheeses, olives, and fruit, feeding each other and giggling and kissing like lovesick teenagers.

“Oh my god,” he exclaimed. “Yeah! Now I remember! That trip was amazing! We stayed an extra two days to fuck more, not to see the sights. We went the to the beach like, once that whole time we were here.”

“Yeah,” Murdoc agreed, giving him a strange look. “I think about that trip a lot.”

“Why? Why Barcelona specifically?”

Murdoc stopped at the top of a staircase to take a few pictures of one of the dozens of Gaudí sculptures (and also to catch his breath, Stu assumed, given the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders). “Because on that trip, that’s when I realized that you were it.”

The singer stepped a little closer, letting his arm bump the older man’s. It was making his head spin to think about how close they had been, yet how emotionally distant they still were all those years ago. “Speak up, Muds,” he implored. “I want to understand.”

With a sigh, the bassist turned to look at him, clearly a little embarrassed. “Watching you sleep in the mornings when the sun rose, spending that much time with you. Mate, I knew it then. That I was never going to feel as strongly about anyone else in the world as I did about you. I knew you were the only one I would ever love.”

Stu felt his mouth go dry despite the water bottle he had been guzzling. “Oh…”

“I know,” he added quickly, “I didn’t say anything to you, so obviously nothing came of it. Not right then, anyway. I was too scared to put myself in a position like that. Especially back then! My old man was still alive, I wasn’t on meds so the hallucinations were still fucking commonplace, and also…” he let his arms drop to his sides as he looked out at the spires and palm trees wistfully.

“Go on, lovely thing.”

“I assumed that you felt it too,” he said, sounding so sad that the singer hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him close despite the hot sun. “I thought you could feel what I was feeling, so when we left Spain and continued traveling through Europe and you went back to shagging birds and acting like nothing had happened…”

“It’s all coming back to me,” he admitted. “You were insufferable after that trip. Oh god, the next few weeks, you gave me and everyone around you absolute hell. I didn’t realize you were acting out because you were frustrated with me. Muds, if you’d just told me how you felt—”

“It doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “It’s all in the past. I got a taste of what it was like to hold you for a night without all the commitment crap. Anyway, we couldn’t stay apart for long, could we?”

“We hooked up again as soon as we were back at Kong,” the singer agreed with a smile. “And all through the music video shoots. We couldn’t keep away from one another.”

“It was only a matter of time before you returned my feelings,” Murdoc joked.

“Maybe in time, you’ll want to be mine.”

“That’s it.” He agreed quietly.

A soft wind blew, and Stu brushed his bangs out of his face, brow furrowed in thought. “I never realized,” he confessed. “I thought you hated me back then, Muds.”

“I never hated you, you daft twat. Only resented you a tad. The sun might be hot in the middle of the day, burns and makes us sweat and complain, but we need it so we can snap shots like this for Instagram,” he broke away to take a picture of some flowers, leaving Stu to contemplate the metaphor that he had very intentionally cut short.

“Well, I’m sorry your first trip to Barcelona didn’t work out the way you wanted,” he said. He walked up behind the bassist, so when Murdoc turned around, he was right there, tall enough to block out the sun, dark eyes fixed on the older man. “But I hope this trip makes up for it.”

He had intended to kiss his boyfriend then, but it felt too aggressive given the history that they shared in the city, too much like something that he would have done when he was younger and wilder and always carrying switchblades around for no good reason. Instead, he took Murdoc’s hand and kissed it. They were in a country filled with castles; let him act like a prince for once in his life.

It did the trick, because Murdoc’s eyebrows shot up behind his fringe and he sputtered uselessly, too flustered for words for a shocking five, ten, fifteen seconds.

“You incorrigible sap,” he finally managed. Quite mild as far as Murdoc Insults went.

“That’s me,” he replied with a grin, and Murdoc was already lacing their fingers together, guiding them out of the park and to their next destination in the city. “Thank you for telling me all that. Makes me all the more eager to savor every second of time with you now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunted, “Don’t be too cheesy or I’ll toss you into one of the fountains.”

Stu laughed. “Fine. Where are you taking me next?”

“First, lets get some ice cold cervezas. Then, I’m thinking a siesta before we hit the beach.”

“Sounds perfect. Y’know, you’re actually quite good at planning these tips, Muds.”

“Of course I am,” Murdoc replied, swinging their hands between them as they walked, uncharacteristically playful. “I’ve been planning how I would woo you since the first time we stepped foot in this city, mi corazón!”

#2docweek #2docweek2019 #day5 vacation #2doc #2doc fanfiction #back on that sappy shit! #give me two soft old men in love!

[veeeffvee]

COLOR-TV (a Ghost and Pals fanfiction), Chapter 1

Word count: 4195

Summary: (Crackfic) AU where Kennith actually has his own television show! A variety show, as a matter of fact, where anyone and everyone can be a part of C-O-L-O-R!

A/N: Okay so... this was written on a whim, honestly. I didn’t plan this at all, the idea just popped into my head like three days ago and I just decided to write it. And somehow I finished it? Which is weird. Anyway, please keep in mind that I didn’t do any in-depth character analysis of Kennith or his guest star for the show. And I’m probably not going to for future “episodes,” either. So please don’t judge this too harshly, haha. With that in mind, I hope you enjoy the show!

One minute until showtime.

Kennith noted this as he took another glance at the wall clock next to him. He should probably get ready for his entrance. Heaving a sigh to steady himself, he got up from his folding chair and went over to the large red curtain that lead to the stage outside.

From behind the curtain, Kennith could hear the various murmurings of the audience. They were probably talking about what the show was going to be about. Of course they would be wondering of what's to come; they were sitting in the dark and could barely see the stage. And this was also the pilot episode, so...

Kennith took another breath, held it, and then sighed again.

No pressure!

Absolutely no pressure!

Kennith was about to sneak a peek from the side of the curtain when his theme song began playing on the speakers outside: his cue to begin. Well, that settles it. He was actually doing this. And he was going to be great! And his show was going to be amazing!

He put a hand on the curtain and steeled himself. Before any doubts could arise in his mind, he ran through the curtain and onto the stage.

It's showtime.

████████████████████████████████████████████████

From the darkened studio set, stage lights suddenly flicked on to reveal the stage: a floor that was rounded into the shape of an oval, jutting out towards the audience. At the middle of the stage a leather chair sat next to a sturdy wooden table that had five small TVs piled onto it; the chair and table angled as to face each other and the audience. On the far wall behind this setup was an array of screens that were currently powered off. Above the screens there was a neon sign reading "COLOR-TV" in multicolored letters, and two signs reading "APPLAUSE" to the left and right of it. The signs were flickering in time to the music that was playing. To the right of the stage, there was an elevated platform that held up a rounded wall, blank and unassuming for the moment.

And of course, at the front and center of the stage, Kennith stood with his arms spread out and poised; a microphone in his right hand, and his left hand open with his palm facing up. The audience cheered as he appeared, and they clapped along to the music that bleared through the stage's speakers.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to COLOR-TV!" Kennith announced, signaling with one hand for the music to fade out. As it did, the audience also quieted down. "I'm your host, Kennith Simmons! And today, I'm proud to debut our first ever episode of COLOR-TV. Give yourselves a round of applause for joining me on this journey!" he said, and the audience responded in kind with cheering.

Kennith patiently waited for the audience to stop with a smile. Once they were done, he spoke up. "Now, I thought I'd explain what my show is about," he began, fiddling with the wire of the microphone. "Well, I'm thinking that it's going to be a variety show, so basically, I'm open to experimenting! And I hope I can get feedback from you, my lovely audience, on what you all enjoy!"

The audience began clapping again, because that's just what audiences do, as Kennith hurried over to the pile of TVs and climbed them in order to sit at the top. After making himself as comfortable as possible, he gestured with one hand to the curtain at the far left of the stage. "So, let's get this show started with my special guest! A good friend of mine and a potential new friend to you all: let's welcome People-Pleaser!"

A different song began playing from the speakers as a girl emerged from the curtains and ran onto the stage. The girl had short white hair with a streak of black through it, and wore gray shorts with white suspenders, a black t-shirt that was tucked into her shorts, black high-heels with garter belts and matching black stockings.

The girl grinned as she ran to the front of the stage and waved at the cheering audience, and she drank in all of the attention for a moment before going over to the chair opposite Kennith and took a seat. "Glad to be on the show, Kennith!" she chirped as the music died down.

"Ah, that's my line," Kennith chided jokingly. "But anyway, we're all pleased to have you, People-Pleaser!" he said, and the audience applauded as if to emphasize what he said.

"Oh no, call me Obsequious," the girl offered, and the audience chuckled at the joke. "It's much easier. And it sounds nicer! Wouldn't you all agree?" Obsequious waved one hand towards the audience, and the crowd made various sounds of agreement.

Kennith blinked once in confusion, but continued anyway. "You seem much more excited for the show than you were backstage, Obsequious. I'm surprised! I was starting to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this," he commented.

"Oh, yeah, I was nervous!" Obsequious agreed. "Super, super nervous! But then I thought about the lovely audience that awaited me behind the curtain, and after a couple of breaths I just—" she shrugged with her arms bent at her sides, "—suddenly had the courage to perform! And I don't feel scared at all!" she said with a wide smile.

While the audience applauded Obsequious' courage, Kennith just stared at her. "That's... oddly specific."

"What do you mean?"

"Just..." Kennith started, before he thought better of it and stopped. "Never mind. Let's just get on with the show," he said, trying to keep a cheerful tone. He reached behind the TVs and grabbed a blue remote.

"Ooh, finally!" Obsequious was practically vibrating in her seat. She looked out into the crowd. "Are you all excited?" she called out, and the audience responded in cheers as usual.

Kennith frowned, but said nothing of it. Instead, he pressed a button on the remote.

The elevated platform on the right of the stage began to turn, and the rounded wall turned along with it to reveal what was an approximation of a kitchen on the miniature stage. Complete with multiple counters, a stove, oven, sink, and other appliances, it was essentially a fully furnished kitchen for a tiny house.

"So, I know that you like desserts, Obsequious," Kennith began. "Isn't that right?"

"Of course! I mean, who doesn't, right?" Obsequious answered, looking pointedly at the audience. There was a pause, and then the audience gave a quieter-than-normal cheer.

Kennith followed her gaze for a moment before looking back at her. "...Right. Well, I thought that since you love desserts so much, this episode's gonna be—"

"—a cooking episode!" Obsequious interrupted. "No, wait, I mean it's a baking episode!" she announced, still looking at the crowd. "Yeah, we're gonna go bake a bunch of goodies! That sounds fun, doesn't it?" she spoke to the audience, waiting for approval.

The audience gave a few uncertain murmurs, and heads turned as they all looked at each other nervously. Then they fell into an awkward silence.

Kennith had enough. "Obsequious, look at me."

She did so, still wearing a bright smile. "Yes?"

"Are you trying to act like me?"

"...Yes."

"Why."

"Well, it's what everyone likes, isn't it?" She gestured towards the audience. "Everyone so far has been cheering you on, so I just thought that if I was acting like you, people would enjoy it! Is it working?"

Kennith stared at her. Obsequious stared back. "What?" she asked, oblivious.

"Nothing. Please just... be yourself from now on," Kennith said with a pleading smile.

Obsequious blinked twice at the very suggestion, as if she was struggling to process it. "Be... myself?" she echoed. "What do you—"

"Anyway! Let's actually start the show for real now, okay?" Kennith hurriedly spoke over her.

A small clip of Kennith's theme played as Kennith hopped off of the TVs and headed over to the elevated platform. Obsequious stayed in her seat for a second longer, thinking, before finally deciding to follow him. By the time she arrived, Kennith was wearing a chef hat and apron and standing behind a counter facing the audience.

"Welcome to our new segment, 'Cooking with Kennith!' I'm your host, Kennith Simmons!" he declared, earning a few cheers from the audience. "Joining me today is Obsequious, whom I think I can consider a connoisseur of all things sweet?" He looked to Obsequious for confirmation.

"Huh?" Obsequious said, seeming to snap out of a trance. "Oh, oh yeah, I love desserts! Probably more than anything!" she responded, playing along.

"Well, I think you'll be happy to hear what we're doing today," Kennith said, taking out a mixing bowl from the cabinet below him. "Today, we're baking a cake! Specifically, chocolate cake!"

Obsequious' eyes lit up. "Oh, that's actually my favorite!"

“I know!” Kennith tried to match her enthusiasm from earlier as he brought out the rest of the materials and ingredients. “And to make this even more fun, we’re going to make this cake in fifteen minutes!”

Obsequious’ smile faltered. “Wait, what?”

“Thaaat’s right! We’re going to make the batter, frosting, and bake the whole cake in fifteen minutes!” Kennith declared, not appearing to be worried at all about what he was saying.

“Wait a minute, Kennith—”

“Aaand if we don’t finish on time, we’re going to eat whatever we’ve made, whether it’s done or not!”

“Kennith I don’t know how to bake hold on—”

“I don’t either!” Kennith finally acknowledged Obsequious as he looked at her. Obsequious flinched; his eyes were manic. “I’ve never baked anything in my life! But that’s the fun of it all!”

The crowd gave its approval, and Obsequious suddenly felt unsure of herself. “You told me that I was going to taste test some desserts, not bake a cake,” she weakly protested.

“Oh, did I?” Kennith asked, feigning innocence. “Well, you’re basically taste testing. After we make the cake, that is,” he said, as if that was a reasonable explanation.

“But—”

“Okay, timer’s set!” Kennith waved towards the array of screens at the far wall at the middle of the stage, which now displayed a countdown reading ‘15:00:00’ in red font. “Ready?”

“Wait—”

“Set…”

“Please—”

“Go!” Kennith jumped into action, ripping open a bag of flour with wild abandon and pouring a random amount of flour into a bowl. “Obsequious, there’s a recipe on the counter behind us, go grab it!” he commanded.

“Uhhh—” Obsequious said dumbly, rushing to said counter, where she found a piece of laminated paper. “Why didn’t you wait for me to get the recipe before you—”

“Fifteen minutes, just read it!”

"Okay, okay!" Obsequious finally relented. Her eyes nervously skimmed the recipe, looking for anything to do with mixing the ingredients. "Umm, it says that you're supposed to put all of the dry ingredients into one bowl..."

"Got it!" Kennith responded by pouring a sickening amount of sugar and cocoa powder into the bowl, causing a puff of the mixture to fly up into his face. He doubled over and grabbed the counter with one hand as he hacked and coughed.

Obsequious was growing increasingly distraught. "Kennith, are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," Kennith wheezed, clearly not fine, "Just keep reading!"

"Oh, well, wait—" Obsequious looked over the paper again. "We were supposed to preheat the oven, put some things onto the baking pans, and mix the wet ingredients. And also, you aren't measuring any of the ingredients?? Which you really should be—"

"Fifteen minutes, Obsequious!" Kennith repeated, somehow gathering the strength to add baking soda, baking powder, and salt into the bowl. "Skip the preheating thing and just do the wet ingredients!"

Obsequious gulped. Just thinking about what the cake was going to be like already made her nauseous. She headed over to Kennith's counter, where another bowl was sitting, and began adding a couple of eggs into it. She even took the time to separate the eggs.

Kennith watched her from the corner of his eye as he mixed his own bowl. Obsequious gingerly poured buttermilk, water, vanilla, and vegetable oil into her bowl. She wasn't measuring anything either, but she was notably more gentle than Kennith was.

His gaze then flew over to the countdown. Ten minutes.

They didn't have time for this. "What don't you get by 'fifteen minutes?!' Give me that!" Kennith yelled, snatching the barely-mixed bowl from Obsequious. He then poured her ingredients into his bowl, causing Obsequious to cry out in alarm.

"Why did you do that?!"

"Doesn't it say that the ingredients are supposed to be combined anyway?!"

"Yeah, but that's after both types of ingredients are mixed separately!"

"Whatever! They're getting mixed right now!" Kennith demonstrated this by stirring harder. "Go do whatever you're supposed to do to the baking pans!"

"Why are we yelling?!"

"I don't know!"

"AAAAAHH!"

"AAAAAAHH!!!"

After that meaningful exchange, Obsequious did as she was told and brought out two large round baking pans. She then grabbed a stick of butter and began meticulously greasing the insides of the—

"Obsequious, if you don't hurry up, then so help me—"

—okay, she began hurriedly greasing the insides of each pan, nearly snapping the stick of butter in half in the process. Grabbing a handful of cocoa powder, she quickly dusted the pans in uneven layers of coating, before moving on and lining each pan with probably-correct measurements of parchment.

Obsequious then looked over at Kennith for approval. "Was that fast enough?"

"Plenty. Now move!" Kennith half-shoved Obsequious out of the way so that he could pour the kinda-chunky batter into the pans. Some of the batter missed the mark and dripped onto the counter, but most of it made it into the baking pans. "Okay, now go turn the oven on."

Why now? They were supposed to preheat the oven before everything else, but...

"Okay." Obsequious gave up on trying to argue. She went over to the oven and hesitated. "Wait... this isn't an oven," she observed, noticing the unfamiliar design.

"No, it is," Kennith said, his smile coming back. "It's a specially-made oven invented by yours truly!" he proudly declared. "Basically, we can bake this cake in five minutes."

"Oh... wow."

"Yeah. Now are you going to stand there, or are you going to press the 'on' button?"

"Oh, uh, right," Obsequious said before pushing said button. Uncharacteristic of a typical oven, it began humming as it was powered on.

Kennith hastily put on safety goggles and mittens, and after picking up both pans, he went over to the oven and put them both on the stove. "Might wanna stand back a little. The temperature is nearly nuclear in there," he warned.

Obsequious obediently took a couple of steps back as Kennith opened the door of the oven. Immediately, a wave of intense heat flew out, startling both of them as well as the audience. Kennith quickly threw both pans into the oven and closed the door. Fortunately, the temperature of the studio evened out afterwards.

"Alright! And now we work on the frosting," Kennith ordered. He glanced towards the timer. "Eight minutes. That leaves us with three minutes to decorate the cake," he said as he walked to the counter again.

Obsequious followed him. "Do we have to rush this one too?" she asked tentatively.

"Nah, not really. If I remember correctly, it's just two ingredients. We even have time to measure them out."

"Oh, thank god."

Making the frosting was indeed, much easier. With Kennith reading the instructions this time, Obsequious measured and stirred correct amounts of whip cream and powdered sugar into a small bowl. Then the bowl was placed into the fridge to cool.

Obsequious breathed a sigh and looked at the timer. "Five minutes. We have two more minutes until the cake is done," she noted.

"Yep! And now we wait," Kennith said, jumping onto the counter behind him and sitting down on it. Seeing this, Obsequious opted to just lean on the counter opposite him. Because his was covered in flour, batter, and whatever else. Kennith didn't seem to care.

The studio was silent. There were a few mutterings within the audience, but not much else. Kennith absentmindedly kicked his legs from where he sat, and Obsequious drummed her fingers on the counter.

The silence was getting a little suffocating. Kennith spoke up, "Boy, we sure made a mess, huh?"

"Yeah, I don't understand why you didn't tell me to wear something else before coming on set," Obsequious played along, dusting off some flour that was on her black shirt. "This is my favorite outfit..."

Kennith laughed. "Well, I'm wearing one of my favorite outfits."

"Hm..." Obsequious hummed, before she noticed something. "Wait, but you're wearing an apron! Why didn't I get an apron?!"

"Uh, 'cause I'm the host?"

"That's not fair!"

"Life's not fair."

"Well—!" Without stopping to think about it, Obsequious reached into the bag of flour beside her, took a handful of flour, and threw it at Kennith.

Kennith tried to dodge, but inevitably got covered in the dust. "Hey!" he exclaimed, looking for something to throw back. He saw the egg carton, and quickly flipped it open, grabbed a couple of eggs, and lobbed them at Obsequious.

Obsequious squeaked as the eggs hit her. "Dude, at least I used powder!"

"Serves you right! Hahaha—ow!" Kennith's laugh was cut off as a stick of butter hit him square on the head. Despite his new headache, he grinned. "Alright, now it’s on—"

Kennith was about to reach for an entire bottle of vegetable oil when a ding resounded throughout the studio. The two of them looked at the oven.

Obsequious blinked, pulling her hand back from the gallon of buttermilk. "Oh. Cake's done."

"Yep!" Kennith was already putting on his mittens. "Obsequious, go get the frosting while I get it out of the oven. Oh, and there's also a tub of icing in there, and a bag of cherries; get those too."

"Alright!"

Obsequious did as she was told and retrieved the frosting and icing from the fridge. Kennith, meanwhile, took the two pans out of the oven and placed them on the counter.

"Technically, we're supposed to let these cool off, but we've only got three minutes left," Kennith then handed Obsequious a mitten and a plastic knife. "Sooo, let's try to cut these out of the pans as fast as possible."

"Okay!" Obsequious beamed. She was glad that Kennith wasn't frantic anymore. It probably helped that she stopped arguing with him. Maybe she should have done that the whole time.

The two of them stuck their knives into their respective pans, and just as soon as they cut around the edges, they attempted to pry the cakes off of the hot metal. Surprisingly, the cakes came out in mostly one piece. They then laid each section of the cake onto separate plates.

"Now, you go decorate your cake with the frosting and cherries or whatever, and I'll put chocolate icing on mine," Kennith instructed. "After that, try to put your cake on top of mine. Then we'll be done!"

"Yay!" Obsequious reached for a plastic bag to put frosting in. "I can't wait to try this!" she lied. Clearly, being more agreeable kept Kennith from rushing her, so she had decided to do just that.

Kennith scoffed. "What, really?"

"Yeah! I'll eat just about anything, honestly," Obsequious said. That much was true. "Plus, I'm kinda hungry anyway."

Obsequious began scooping frosting into the plastic bag. Then she cut a corner of the bag off before attaching a nozzle to the end of it. While Kennith was preoccupied with layering icing onto the top of his cake with a knife, she slowly and carefully frosted the cake. There was a minute left on the timer once both cakes were completed; Kennith's having a copious amount of chocolate icing, and Obsequious' having delicate dollops of frosting with cherries on top.

"And now for the finishing touch. Obsequious, will you do the honors?" Kennith asked, gesturing with grandeur towards his own cake.

"Why, of course," Obsequious answered with a mock-fancy tone.

As soon as Obsequious lifted her cake and brought it over to Kennith's, the weight of the cherries and frosting caused the middle of her cake to collapse. It fell on top of Kennith's in wet, soggy clumps, causing cherries to scatter across the countertop. The weight of the impact from her cake's fall caused the middle of Kennith's cake to cave in as well. The crowd gasped. The timer went off with one loud beep.

Obsequious stared at the sight with wide open eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, two handfuls from the edges of her cake still in her hands. She didn't blink.

There was a long pause. Someone in the audience coughed.

"...Well!" Kennith said after a while, clapping his hands once. "It doesn't... look that bad! I mean, this is the first time that either of us have ever baked a cake, so—"

"Kennith."

"Yes?"

"Kennith this isn't a cake."

"No, well I mean, it's—"

"Kennith this is a pile of uncooked batter and frosting."

"I guess technically it is, but—"

"Kennith I thought you said that the cake would bake in five minutes."

"Well I mean, again," Kennith ran a hand through his hair nervously, accidentally getting icing in his hair, "I haven't baked anything before, remember? So I couldn't have known this would happen."

Obsequious finally let go of the cake pieces that she was holding, letting them fall on top of the mess below. Her hands fell to her sides, defeated. "We're going to eat this." She stated the obvious, as if she was in disbelief of those very words.

"Well, don't knock it till you try it, right?" Kennith tried his best to smile. It came out as a grimace. "And hey, I worked on this cake too, so don't be so hard on yourself."

There was another moment of still silence, and then Obsequious sighed. She put on a empty smile. "Okay, let's try it!" she declared, her voice betraying her expression.

"That's the spirit!" Kennith affirmed, even though he wasn't looking forward to this either. A pause followed as they both hesitated. Then Kennith reached into a drawer and pulled out two spoons. "I guess we're using spoons since it's—"

"Yeah."

"I mean with the texture and the—"

"Uh huh."

"It kinda looks like pudding if you squint, so—"

"Yep."

"Okay, yeah, cool," Kennith eventually gave up. He knew he was stalling. Not wanting to waste another minute, he stuck his spoon into the mess of cake and icing, and lifted the spoon to his mouth. He indicated with an nod of his head that Obsequious should do the same. With much more reluctance, Obsequious copied his actions, and together they ate their respective spoonfuls.

He didn't even think that it was possible, but somehow Kennith's face became paler. The cake was burnt on the outside so that it was crunchy and bitter, yet the inside was uncooked, so the majority of it was chunky batter and unmelted sugar. And there was a lot of sugar. He had also unknowingly eaten a cherry, but the stem was still on it, and these cherries still had pits in them, so every once in a while he would chew on a piece of the stem or bite onto the pit.

Kennith looked over at Obsequious, who appeared to not be faring very well either. "How is it?" he asked, mouth still full of cake. He didn't dare to swallow.

"It's..." she began, her mouth also full of cake. As if in a late reaction, Obsequious' face scrunched up in disgust. This caused a few audience members to laugh. "...An acquired taste. Yeah, it's... not that bad." She echoed Kennith's earlier statement, since he made the cake alongside her and didn't want to risk hurting his feelings. "I've had worse."

Kennith was surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah, I've actually—" Obsequious paused to swallow.

That was a mistake.

Immediately, Obsequious retched, and covering her mouth with one hand she ran from the kitchen onto the stage, and quickly left the set through the curtain on the left; presumably to go to the bathroom. The audience collectively went 'oooh' at this.

Kennith watched her leave before relenting to swallow his own mouthful. He then turned to address the audience, tears welling in his eyes. "Well, that's all the time that we have for today!" he announced, putting on a smile despite what felt like the beginnings of indigestion. "We hope that you have all enjoyed the show!"

Kennith's theme began to play once again on the speakers, and the audience started up again with the cheering. "My name is Kennith Simmons, and this has been COLOR-TV! Join us next time, and remember: I've always been here—!"

His outro was cut off as his stomach grumbled, and suddenly nausea flared up within him. Trying to hold back his own retching, Kennith ran through the curtains after Obsequious; waving goodbye with one hand, and covering his mouth with the other.

#ghost and pals #communications by ghost #colorbars #broadcast illusion #I've never posted fanfics directly onto tumblr so I don't have a tag uhhhh #fanfic #Oh and by the way #I have outlines for future episodes with a few of Ghost's characters #So please let me know which characters you'd like to see featured next on the show! #appetite of a people pleaser

[thelastspeecher]

Spy AU - Toxin, Finale

I got an ask earlier today that was about the situation in the Spy AU where Ford gets de-aged temporarily to three years old.  And it reminded me that even though I’ve discussed how that situation gets resolved, I never actually wrote it.  So, here it is.  Enjoy, for once, some legit fluff in the Spy AU.

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              The phone rang.  Stan began to get up from the couch.  Angie gently pushed him back with one hand.

              “No, darlin’, let me,” she said firmly.  Stan didn’t protest, instead sinking into the cushions silently, his eyes reddened from crying.  The both of them were struggling with the news that HQ had been unable to find a cure for Ford’s de-aging, and as such, he would be forced to grow up again.  Though it didn’t make Angie happy in the slightest, Stan was much more greatly affected than her.  She was more than willing to take on a few tasks to make things easier on her husband.  Angie headed over to the phone and answered it.  “McGucket-Pines residence.”

              “Angie, you didn’t get anything started with preparin’ fer Ford, did ya?” her mother asked over the phone.  Angie blinked.

              “Uh, no, not yet.  Why?”

              “Don’t.”

              “Why not?”

              “You don’t need to.”

              “We don’t-”  Angie covered her mouth.  “Ma, is-”

              “Like the toxin, the cure had a delayed reaction.”

              “What?  Really?”

              “Yep.  Now, he ain’t quite back to himself yet, but he’s definitely better.”

              “Is he awake?”

              “Yep.”

              “Lucid?”

              “That, too.  We’ve debriefed him on what seems to have happened, and he wants to come back to stay with you two while he returns to himself.”

              “Is that the wisest idea?  I mean, Kate-”

              “She signed off on it, don’t worry.  Look, just grab Stan and come over.  We’ll debrief the both of ya as well once ya get here.”

              “Got it.”  Angie hung up the phone.  She turned around.  Stan’s head was in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs.  Angie sat next to him and rested her hand on his back.  “My love, that was Ma.”

              “And?”  Stan’s voice was thick with tears.

              “It worked.”  Stan’s head jerked up.  “Apparently, it’s delayed, but he’s already better.”

              “He’s-”  Stan swallowed.  “Ford’s gonna be okay?”  Angie nodded. “Oh, thank god.”  Stan slumped against the back of the couch.  “That’s- that’s the best thing I’ve heard since this bullshit started.”

              “Yes, well, apparently he wants to stay here while he recovers, and Ma wants to debrief us more thoroughly at HQ, so…”  Angie wiped Stan’s cheek with her sleeve.  “Collect yourself a bit and we’ll leave.”

----- 

              Angie and Stan followed Ma McGucket into medical wing, where Ford had been housed in for the last week or so, after his condition had deteriorated to the point that he needed around-the-clock surveillance by the team working on his case.  Ford’s specific room was one of the private ones in the back of the wing.  The door was closed when they arrived.  Stan frowned.

              “Where’d the sign go?” he asked.  After Ford had moved in, one of the people on his team had made a sign for his room at his request, with Ford’s name on it and an option for Ford to indicate whether he wanted visitors or not.  Stan and Angie had become used to the colorful sign during their daily visits to check up on Ford.  The undecorated door seemed almost ominous.

              “Ford took it down himself when he packed his things up,” Ma McGucket answered. “Don’t worry.”  She knocked on the door.  “Stanford, Stan and Angie are here.” ��The door opened.  Peering up at them through thick brown curls was a young boy approximately six or seven years old.  Stan dropped to one knee to get a closer look.

              “Ford?” Stan asked quietly.  The boy nodded.  A broad smile broke across Stan’s face.  “You look a bit older now.”

              “Yes,” Ford said proudly.  “I’ve been told my age will double every day until I return to my proper self.”

              “Not exactly,” Fiddleford said, walking over.  Stan saw Ford abruptly blush, then duck his head to hide his red face.

              If Ford remembers how he followed Fiddlesticks everywhere, can’t blame him for feeling embarrassed.

              “Yer age has doubled once, and we expect it to double again,” Fiddleford continued, either not noticing or pretending not to see Ford’s behavior.  “Once you turn twelve, you’ll have another boost, to about fourteen or fifteen.  But yer agin’ will slow down then, prob’ly due to puberty-”  Ford’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.  “-so you’ll only age ‘bout a year a day.  Once you hit eighteen, you’ll have two more multiple year jumps to get to yer original age.”

              “So how many days is Ford gonna be re-aging?” Stan asked.  Fiddleford shrugged.

              “About a week or so.”

              “Should we be concerned about emotional and mental re-aging keepin’ up with physical re-aging?” Angie asked.

              “We’ll have a better idea of that once he hits twelve tomorrow, but right now, it doesn’t seem like that’ll be a problem.”  Fiddleford handed Angie a piece of paper.  “Some instructions from Kate, fer how to accommodate his re-aging. As well as what to do if his emotional and mental maturity seem to be lagging.”  Angie nodded.  One of the doctors assigned to Ford’s case, Jen, joined them.  She crouched down to Ford’s eye-height.

              “We’re gonna miss you around the wing, Ford,” she said cheerfully.  “You were a ray of sunshine for us.  But we’re happy you’ll be back to yourself soon.” Ford embraced her.  “Aw, thanks.”  Jen stood up and handed Angie another piece of paper.  “Kate’s instructions were psychological, these are physiological. Ford’s gonna struggle a bit, since each age has its own ups and downs.  Be sure to follow these to ease the growing pains as much as possible. Particularly once he hits the teenage years.”

              “Understood,” Angie said.

              “To make things easier, we already bought all the clothes Ford will need as he re-ages.  They’re in his bag with his other items,” Jen continued.  “Keep us updated.”

              “You got it,” Stan said, standing to his full height again.  “Don’t worry, Ford’s gonna be in great hands.”

              “I know.”  Jen playfully ruffled Ford’s hair before walking away.  Ford looked up at Stan eagerly.

              “I’m big enough that I don’t need to use the car seat anymore!” he bragged. “Mrs. McGucket told me so!”

              “That’s great.  Great enough that I think we need to stop for ice cream on the way home,” Stan said. He looked at Angie.  “Don’t you agree, Ang?”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “I think the stop we really need to take on the way home is a haircut fer Ford, but yes, we can get ice cream.”

              “Hooray!” Ford cheered.  Stan beamed again.  “Race you to the car!”  Ford immediately took off.

              “Wh- hey!”  Stan chased after him.  Angie chuckled softly.

              “I’m so happy things worked out,” she said to her mother.  Ma McGucket nodded.

              “I agree.”  Ma McGucket eyed Fiddleford.  “Fidds, please keep Ford’s behavior when he was three a secret from him fer a while, will ya?  I think he might die of embarrassment durin’ the teenage days if he finds out he followed ya ‘round like a lil duckling 24/7.”

----- 

              “So the haircut we gave you yesterday was pointless, huh?” Stan asked. Ford glared at him.  After being a cheerful, hyperactive twelve-year-old the day before, he had woken up that day as a sulky teenager.  Stan didn’t remember Ford being this grumpy when they were teens the first time, but he figured the re-aging process was enough to put anyone in a bad mood.  Ford poked at his breakfast, a bowl of cereal.

              “My hair seems to be growing at a rapid pace to match the rest of my body,” Ford muttered darkly.  He blew a strand of hair out of his face.  “I look like one of those emo teens.”

              “Only if you dye your hair black,” Stan said.  He took a sip of his coffee.  “I wonder if either of the girls will go through a phase like that.”

              “Youch!” Ford yelped.  Someone had pulled his hair.  “What-” Ford turned in his seat.  Angie stood behind him, a brush in one hand, a clump of his hair in the other, and multiple hair ties wrapped around her wrist. “Angie-”

              “Do you know how to put hair into a ponytail?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.  Ford was silent.  “Let me do my work.”

              “You could’ve asked,” Ford grumbled, turning back to his breakfast.

              “I already did.  You groaned ‘fine’ and then stormed away ‘fore I could even grab a hair tie.”  Angie gathered the entirety of Ford’s hair in one hand and began to brush it.  Ford let out a few more small yelps.  “I told ya to use conditioner.”

              “I’ve never used conditioner in my life.”

              “When ya have long hair, it’s a necessity,” Angie said firmly.  She finished putting Ford’s hair into a ponytail.  “There.”

              “That hurt…so much,” Ford moaned.  He slammed his head on the table, jostling his cereal bowl and causing a few stray marshmallows to dive over the sides.  “I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

              “Okay, drama queen,” Stan said calmly, setting his newspaper down.  “Do you want us to cut it again?”

              “No.  The haircut you two gave me yesterday was dreadful.  I don’t want to look like that.”

              “It’s either long, loose hair or a ponytail, then.”

              “Ugh!”

              “How about I do your hair tomorrow?” Stan suggested.  Ford raised his head just enough to frown at Stan.

              “Why would I ask you to do my hair?”

              “‘Cause I do Danny and Daisy’s hair,” Stan said with a shrug.  “Never got a complaint from them about it hurting.” Ford let out a long, dramatic sigh.

              “I suppose.”  He rested his head on the table again.  “Everything sucks and I hate it.”

              “Sounds good,” Stan replied, picking up his newspaper and turning it to the sports section.

----- 

              “Stan, quick question.”  Stan turned off the TV and looked over at Angie, standing in the entryway to the living room.  “What was Ford like as a teenager the first time?”

              “Uh, kinda quiet and nerdy.  Basically the same as he was as a kid and adult.  Ford wasn’t really the kind of person to go through phases or whatever.”

              “So this is definitely new, then,” Angie said, crossing her arms.

              “What’s new?” Stan asked.

              “The loud music and the attitude and the sneaking out at night,” Angie said, gesturing towards the guest room, from which angsty music seemed to emanate day and night.

              “Wait, he snuck out?”

              “Last night.  Luckily, Fidds was makin’ a midnight run to the gas station fer emergency batteries.” Stan raised an eyebrow.  “I didn’t ask what for.  Could be a robot, could be a smoke detector-”

              “Could be somethin’ he wouldn’t want his little sister to know he owns,” Stan interjected.  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “Anyways, he saw Ford tryin’ to buy alcohol.”

              “What the fuck?”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “That’s not something Ford ever did.  I did it when we were teens, but not him.”  Stan frowned. “We don’t have any of the fake IDs we use for work in the house, do we?”

              “No.”

              “How did he get his hands on a fake ID, then?”

              “He didn’t,” Angie replied shortly.  “He was tryin’ to buy alcohol without an ID.  His big plan was to just convince the person to let him buy it without showin’ a card.  Of course, the cashier wasn’t havin’ any of it.  Fidds showed up right before the cashier called the cops.”

              “Hang on, hang on.”  Stan held up his hands.  “Ford didn’t have any sort of ID, let alone a fake one?  Okay, that’s it.”  He got up from the couch.  “I’m gonna have a talk with him.”  Angie frowned at her husband.

              “That’s yer big concern?”

              “Well, yeah.  It’s just plain stupid.  Buying alcohol before you’re twenty-one isn’t that bad, but I’d hate for him to get caught.”

              “What if either of the girls pull the same stuff when they get to be teens?”

              “I’ll tell ‘em the same thing I’m about to tell Ford,” Stan said firmly.  “If you’re gonna break the law, be smart about it.”

              “In that case, hopefully they take after me and don’t cause any trouble,” Angie grumbled, looking away.  Stan chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.

              “That’s bullshit, babe.  You’ve always been a troublemaker.”

----- 

              “Wait, I did what?” Ford asked.

              “Took a page outta the ole Stan Pines Book of Teenage Rebellion,” Stan said jovially.  He flipped a steak on the grill.  Ford had returned to his proper age yesterday, but was having some issues with his coordination and mental processing speed.  Everyone at HQ was convinced Ford would be back to normal eventually.  He just needed some more time off.  Ideally, with someone around in case he got lost or injured himself due to his new clumsiness.

              “Geez.”  Ford rubbed the back of his neck.  “Why would I do that?”

              “Beats me.”  Stan grinned at Ford.  “But I kinda liked having a practice run in taking care of a teenager.  I’m gonna have to deal with two at once, after all. Maybe even more, depending on how soon Angie and I get to work on our next gremlin.”

              “You want another child?”

              “Yeah.”  Stan frowned at Ford.  “I know I told you that while you were stuck.”

              “Yes, well, my memory of that time is hazy at best.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to recall it at some point.”

              “Uh, I dunno if you really want to.”

              “…Fair point,” Ford conceded.  The door leading to the backyard burst open, slamming against the wall.

              “Uncle Ford!” Danny and Daisy shrieked, bolting to where Ford sat on the patio.  Ford chuckled.  He ruffled his nieces’ hair.

              “Hello, my dears.”

              “You weren’t at our birthday,” Danny said quietly.  Ford nodded.

              “You’re right.  I wasn’t. I’m very sorry.  Did your mother tell you what happened?”

              “You got sick,” Daisy said.  Ford nodded again.

              “Yes.  Extremely sick.  That’s why you had to stay at your grandparents’.  Your mother and father were helping me get better, but they didn’t want you to be exposed to my germs and get sick, too.”  Ford playfully poked at Daisy’s nose on the word ‘you’. Daisy giggled.

              “All better now?” Danny asked.

              “Mostly.  I’m not sick anymore, but I’m still not fully recovered, so I’ll be staying here until then. If that’s all right with you.”

              “Duh!” Daisy shouted.  Ford laughed.

              “I have presents for you two somewhere, actually,” he said.  He started to get up.

              “No, let me,” Angie said.  Ford looked over.  In the ruckus of his nieces’ arrival, he hadn’t noticed Angie exiting the house as well. She stood by the door, smiling fondly at him and her daughters.  “I know exactly where Stan put ‘em.”  She opened the door.  A blur of dark gray and black ran outside.  “Apple-” she started.

              “It’s fine, I’ll handle it,” Stan said.  Angie nodded once before heading back inside.  Apple ran over to Ford, cocked his head, and then whined loudly. Ford smiled and patted the dog. Danny and Daisy stared at him in shock.

              “Apple…likes you now?” Daisy asked.

              “It appears so,” Ford replied, deciding to keep to himself the many hours he had spent with Apple while he was de-aged, one of the few things he remembered clearly.  Danny turned to Stan.

              “Daddy, Apple likes Uncle Ford!” she shouted.  Stan looked over.

              “Yep.”

              “Did Apple help Uncle Ford get better?”

              “Eh.  Only partly. Mostly, it was magic.”  Stan wiggled his fingers in an exaggerated manner. Danny scoffed.

              “No.”

              “It wasn’t magic,” Ford agreed.  “It was medicine.  Which isn’t magic, but rather, a form of science.”  Daisy climbed into his lap.

              “Tell!”

              “My dear, I don’t have a medical degree,” Ford said, stroking her hair.

              “Fine.  Tell dif’rent science.”

              “Different science?”

              “Yeah!” Danny cheered.  Ford smiled.

              “Very well.  I’ll do just that.”  He cleared his throat.  “Long ago, there was a brilliant man named Nikola Tesla.”

#ngl it was v v fun to write angsty teenage Ford #esp angsty teenage Ford with long emo hair #but even MORE fun was writing wholesome Uncle Ford at the end #I just LOVE writing Ford gushing over his niblings #Spy AU #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Stanford Pines #Ma McGucket #Fiddleford McGucket #Stangie #Stangie Family #Daisy McGucket #Danica Pines #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

[theemichelleb]

My walk with Christ

A good friend of mine suggested that I write about my spiritual journey because my perspective could be of help to somebody out there. I’ve been dwelling on what that post would even look like for a long time and I think this is my chance to stand on my own two feet as the woman I have grown to be and acknowledge my faith and my beliefs as an adult rather than what they “had to be” as a child.

Growing up in a COGIC christian household, everybody knows what I mean when I say “had to be.” Waking up every Sunday for church, bible study every Wednesday night, vacation bible school every summer, on as many ministries as you can handle as a little person, i.e. usher board, youth choir, or the praise dance team, and running up to the Pastor/Bishop/Shepard of the church after every service to say your hello’s and show you’re a good christian child. Oh, and don’t forget the church services that turned into praise services lasting for approximately 2 hours with nothing but praise ushered into the house by the band and choir on those Sunday’s when the leader of the house is out for whatever the reason may be. That was life for me. I’m extremely thankful to my mother for being holy and full in her faith to never let me fall by the waste side; she is the foundation of my faith and my peace in being who I am as a Christian woman.

As a child it was necessary to help me understand where my protection, favor, and blessings came from. My mother always told me she knew I was special when she found out she was pregnant with me at 44. I meet new people all the time and I am always told there’s a glow about my presence and who I am as a black woman that I can’t take credit for. I am who I am because my mother covered me in the spirit and asked God to walk with and protect me through all my days. I do not make moves without first consulting God and then waiting for his validation that what I am trying to do is a part of his plan for me. I know he placed me on this earth for a purpose and that’s what I pray every day to move closer to attaining to make him, as well as my father, proud.

When you’re growing up in a black church, you’re kept out of grown folks business… like most things when it comes to the black community. The politics that come along with being a member of a church are truly disheartening sometimes, but we’re protected from that as kids most of the time. There are a lot of judgmental people within the church and, although I have not experienced it as much first hand, I have watched people very near and dear to me be victimized by the church. You don’t understand snide remarks and underhanded comments when you’re 7 or 8, but you see the affects of them down the road when those who were attacked are no longer around.

Let me redirect you, however, because this post is not about my negative experiences with my faith but rather how I continue to move forward with it no matter what.

As I said, my mother had me when she was 44 years old, which added a different layer to my church experience. Everyone assumed I was her grand daughter because of the age gap, but I was treated with a sense of protection; especially after my father passed. That’s probably my favorite thing, having an extended family that watched over and protected me no matter what. My protection comes from the kind and nurturing spirit my mother has that was also passed on to me. I hear so often how beautiful my spirit is and how comfortable people can be with me… which again I credit that all to God.

I, like many college students, slowly drifted away from my overly frequent attendance at church. I found hesitance in sitting under teaching and preaching in a new place of worship; mainly because you never know what those leaders are practicing in their personal lives. I grew up with a Bishop that was accepted by my family, presented himself with the same spirit in front of the congregation as he did in the private presence of my family, him and his family helped mine in a time of transition after they moved to VA, and, if for no other reason, I clung to him because he favored my father’s physical appearance. He taught me everything I know and practice in my personal life because he leads by example. He was a true angel and I’m thankful for him and everyone else that helped mold me into the woman of God that I can openly say I am today.

But!

I am not an angel.

I am not a perfect church girl.

I am not the child I use to be.

I love all types of music. I have my periodic run in with use of less than desirable language. I have tattoos and piercings. I drink occasionally. I don’t always make the “right” decisions. I criticize myself. I struggle with loving myself. I struggle with loving others.

I. Am. Human.

My walk with Christ is about self-reflection, being faithful, and doing good while on this Earth. We only get one chance to do life, and I choose to do life with God everyday. He covers me, helps lead my way on the path he predestined for me, and helps me leave a piece of him with every person I come in contact with. When I hear about that light or glow that tends to follow me, I thank God for blessing me with faith so visible it shines through my presence. I know I am not perfect and I pray that nobody holds me to that standard… it’s too heavy a burden to try to bear. I know I make mistakes and at times I punish myself for not being what I thought I would be as an adult. It’s hard living up to something that I couldn’t have understood as a child, but I do my best to live up to being a good God fearing woman. I treat others with love and kindness as much as possible, and don’t let this world get to me in ways I can’t control. I do believe in scripture and the stories told of God and his will for us as his children, but I understand those stories were written by men.

I’m not here to convince anybody of what I believe. If you take nothing else from this, the one thing I ask you to do is to look at your life and decide if you are living one you would want your children to live. Are you creating a legacy to make God proud? There are so many walks of faith; from denomination to denomination and then within each denomination. I challenge you to not just be a body in a faith you don’t understand or accept anything less than what you truly know and feel is right. Our godliness is in how we treat others, how we treat ourselves, and how we pass on joy peace and love. I believe God placed me here for reason and I pray I touch as many people with that vision and love as I possibly can.

Something that I struggle with largely is with disappointing my family, mainly my mother. I often find myself looking at my life and wondering how far I’ve fallen from the tree, but as soon as I question myself I learn new things about my spiritual mentors that I never would have guessed; these things make me realize we’re all only human. Accepting I am no longer a child and that’s it’s okay to make my own decisions is the most challenging part of being an adult for me. As the days move forward I get more comfortable with being in my own skin and trying not to live a life that others tell me I should live. I don’t fit into the textbook definition of what a Christian woman is and I know that. Sometimes… that scares me the most… but then I remember God still loves me. I am his child.

My relationship with God is my most prized possession.

Be courageously different, even if the “norm” doesn’t always agree… they can’t see a vision that wasn’t created for them.

I have flaws and I have a long way to go to be the best version of myself that I can be, but I am working towards that goal everyday, every hour, every minute, and every second. I enjoy life because it’s a blessing God grants me everyday I wake up, and I am not shameful of loving him the way I do or living my life to the best of my ability the way I have.

Remember, next time before you judge that person, act in love.

It’s not always about matching up to somebody else’s holiness… everybody’s level grows at it’s own pace, the same way everybody’s D.O.P.E. isn’t at the same level.

Be the D.O.P.E. child of God he created you to be. Somebody is waiting to experience your blessings and somebody needs to be influenced by your faith and purpose.

#faith #spirituality #spiritual #God #Christ #Christian Life #Christianity

[soundofseventeen]

Seventeen When They Find Out You’re A Princess

Hi, I’m back from Mexico and I had time to finish this one while I was at the airport! A massive thank you to @noona-clock for letting us use their prompts! It wouldn’t be possible without them! Onto...Kwon Soonyoung! -Bee

Hoshi: Prince From Another Kingdom

“This is so stupid,” you could hear Jeonghan moaning to Chan. “Why did we agree to this? I could’ve been back in my garden, enjoying some lemonade and having some live music. But no, we’re here in god knows where, practicing...croquet, no less!”

“Hyung, I’d like to see the day you don’t find something to complain about. You never know when this will come in handy.”

“He’s got a point. It’s not the worst sport in the world.” Truth be told, you were good at it; you just couldn’t tell him that because then he’d throw it in your face, just like the horse riding. Which reminded you: “I’ll see you guys after practice; my chariot awaits. Oh and Chan? Please tell me how this goes. I’m willing to bet Jeonghan will quit this too.”

“Why is everyone so rude to me? We can’t all be athletic Y/N.” He crosses his eyes at you and you had to laugh at his immaturity, which made him huff. “Maybe some of us prefer the great indoors and hire someone to play this for us. WATCH WHERE YOU’RE HITTING ASSHOLE. THERE ARE PEOPLE HERE.” He shook his head. “I swear, sports will be the death of me.”

“Later guys.”

*

You loved horse riding in general, but your favorite thing about it was when the wind was blowing through your hair, you felt free and on top of the world. It was teamwork and trust that you built that made made you look forward to being outside the kingdom; it was the seemingly endless hours you spent brushing, feeding and calming down any anxious horse that made you feel at peace with the world; it was the few times you had fallen from your high horse (pun both intended and not) that humbled you and made everything worth it. You weren’t a princess around the stables, just human and animal being together, coexisting as one. 

Today, however, seemed like the day your favorite horse was taken, so you had no choice but to take Enfer (which scared you a bit since his name was literally French for hell and you’ve heard the horror stories behind him; like the accursed black cat, it seemed that black beauty wasn’t too far off in the bad bad luck department . He’s trampled an equestrian because he didn’t want his mane brushed and he’s runaway from several other riders because he could feel their fear, and that alone almost stopped you.)

It took you approximately 34 seconds to realize that Enfer was about to treat you the way he treated others and that was only because you noticed he was not a carrot person, err horse, and he proved it when he stomped on the vegetable, daring you to challenge him. Instead, you were able to coax him out with an apple you thought to bring with you, but that’s pretty much where your truce ended. In a sudden movement, he was on his hind legs, ready to knock you down but you jumped away just in time, and he used that to run in the opposite direction. (Whoever said horses weren’t smart certainly hasn’t worked with Enfer.) And now you had a runaway horse. Fantastic.

And then, the cliché-est thing of clichés happened. A handsome strangerwith his white steed gracefully rode past you, a lasso twirling in his right hand as he throws it with careful precision, warning his own horse to be cautious when confronting Enfer. The boy himself looked amused at the situation, almost breaking into laughter at the poor fool who managed to get stuck in this mess this time. And that was more than enough to have you embarrassed.

He then hopped off, handing you the rope, which didn’t help. “Thanks for returning my horse,” you mumbled sheepishly. You didn’t dare look him in the eye; who knew what else could happen. As it was, you could feel your face heating up and your palms starting to sweat. You were quite flustered to say the least. This has never happened.

“He is not yours, but mine,” he countered good naturedly. “I was wondering where he went.”

“Your horse?”

“Yeah! Enfer is a hell of a stallion but he is good at what he does! Pâté here is a sweetheart but doesn’t do much. Next time I recommend taking her out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, um-“

“Prince Soonyoung at your service,” the boy declared proudly, bowing lowly. (Holy shit, it was another prince who wasn’t Jeonghan or Chan. Was it your lucky day?) He then patted Enfer’s snout rather smugly, as if they shared a secret no else dared to find out. “Master of helping the damsels in distress and currently in training to become a champion horse rider. And you are...?” He smiled in a friendly manner.

“Princess Y/N,” you curtsied. “A bit more humble than his Highness, but a pleasure nonetheless.” Normally, you wouldn’t declare your status the way you did, but sometimes you made an exception, such as now. ”Evader of those finding said damsels in distress and decent horse rider, and a decent croquet player.” He was flaunting (in good nature, so why shouldn’t you?)

“Prove it, then,” he said with a teasing wink. He was challenging you but you were up for the game. 

“You just met me and you’re already suggesting we play.”

His smile didn’t falter. “No, I mean prove that you’re a princess and not just someone who’s out to invade the kingdoms and all their lands.” There was another wink. “But I’ll take you up on that game of croquet if it’s true. I happen to be a professional.”

“Is that so?” This prince, whoever he was might’ve come off as arrogant to anyone else, but the way you looked at him, he reminded you of a boyish charm, with eyes that slanted every time he smiled (which was a lot) and when he laughed, it made you feel nostalgic. When he nodded, you continued. “Shall we then? I know a place.”

“One request: let’s put the horses away. It’d be a shame if something happened to Pâté here.”

You gulped, having caught on rather quickly. “How about we leave Enfer instead? What if he attacks us?”

“Enfer is harmless, I promise. And he’s faster too.”

*

“Soonyoung hyung, hi!” Chan greeted him enthusiastically and frowned slightly when he saw a nauseous you with your arms wrapped around his waist. “Y/N? I thought you wanted to be by himself.”

“I was, but then I was challenged to a game of croquet.” As gracefully as you could, you slid off the horse (which flicked his tail in your face) and called for one of your faithful servants to bring you your equipment. “And you know I cant resist a challenge. How’s Jeonghan?”

“Well, he uh-managed to hit himself with a racquet so Seungcheol offered to take him home-“

“-But as you can see, I’m still here! Why are you here with Soonyoung?”

“He doesn’t believe me that I’m a princess.”

“Hyung, how could you not know that? This is the princess that is known throughout the lands as the one who refused to marry Hannie hyung....and me.” Jeonghan thumped the back of his head and Chan jut shrugged.

“Listen Chan, Jeonghan and I would be terrible rulers together. He sleeps all the time and would probably leave all the decisions to me.”

“Besides, Y/N is rude and I deserve an angel who deserves someone as kind as me.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “And you’ve never asked me to marry you...”

“Marry me then.”

“Absolutely not! You’re still too young to rule marriage or not.”

“Always the excuses with you.” He was unbothered by the rejection because you were partly right.

There was that hamster smile from Soonyoung. “Oh I knew that. I just wanted to see her riding Enfer.”

“You WHAT.”

“Okay, not really that. I knew for sure when your guard over there-“ he pointed to Seokmin who was eyeing the the prince warily “had dropped to his knee to acknowledge your presence. But I’m still interested in a match. You up for it Your Highness?”

You liked the way he teased you, but maybe the dude could use some humbling, regardless. “You’re on.”

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