#(this took far too long to write for how tremendously shitty it is. i would have done bulge but nothing rhymes with bulge.

[mustelifiedmerchandise]

NOOK CROOK NOOK SHOOK, PLAY A GAME OF CHESSSS AND CALL TtHATt NOOK TtAKE ROOK. NOOK BOOK NOOK HOOK, SSIZZLE IN TtHE MEAL BLOCK GETtTtING NOOK OVERCOOKED. NOOK FORSSOOK NOOK MISSTtOOK, IN TtHE CAVERNSS CHILLING PASSSSING TtHROUGH TtHE NOOK BROOK.

[jalapeno-princess]

Bad For You Chapter 2

Fuckboy Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (tiny bits of fluff if you look hard enough) and a lot of swearing

Word Count: 8.8K

“Will you stop that?” 

The loud clicking of Mark’s pen was getting on your nerves. You’ve been tutoring him for over a week now and you’d be lying if you said your study sessions were a breath of fresh air. 

He followed your instructions from the day you agreed to tutoring him and surprisingly showed up to the library before you did. In the first two days of helping him complete assignments, he gave you such a hard time. 

It first started off with snarky remarks about how you weren’t “living your best life” and that one day, you would look back on your college years; regretting spending most of your time with your face buried in books and wishing you got more involved in exciting events like the ones he normally would attend. 

You learned how to develop a large amount of patience when working alongside the older boy; all his sarcastic comments and failed attempts to flirt with you—which you assumed was his way to get under your skin—seemingly constantly got on your nerves. 

However, on the third day, his whole demeanor and the way he was treating you; as if you weren’t doing him the biggest favor in making sure that he passed all of his classes with flying colors, took a 360 degree turn. It’s as if his cockiness and narcissism disappeared in the snap of a finger; like he had an on and off switch because he knew that you would drop him as soon as you felt like he wasn’t taking your assistance seriously. You found it extremely shocking just how much of a fast learner he was. 

Matter of a fact, it was as if he already knew most of the material—so you just assumed he lacked motivation. Mark was extremely intelligent and you had a hard time understanding why his grades lacked to show just how smart he really was. He claimed that he was afraid of failing, yet that decision was all up to him. 

If only he put in as much effort in to his education as he did with his friends and the many parties they would throw, then maybe he wouldn’t be moments away from flunking his junior year of college. You tried your best to stay away from him; you made it very clear to Mark on the first day that you were only there to help him with his homework. 

Before your first session started, you made sure to inform him that you had a list of rules that he needed to follow if he wanted to continue receiving your support with his studies. Nobody was to know about your meetups; the last thing you wanted was to be the talk of your university. 

Being seen with Mark—whether or not people knew the reason why the two of you were spending time together—would definitely get you in to some kind of trouble and unlike most of your female classmates who would throw themselves at the big headed boy, you wanted no part in anything that included him. 

He was also to focus solely on school. You didn’t want him talking about his personal life—nor did you want him bringing up his friends, his extracurricular activities or his past conquests in to any conversation. You were his tutor and you made it a fact to make sure he understood that’s all you were ever going to be to him. 

The two of you could never be friends, nor did you see him wanting to be involved with you in any way—therefore, it worked out perfectly. So far, he did as you instructed him and thankfully, he wasn’t as much of a pain in the ass as you were expecting him to be. Maybe he was absolutely positive that if you didn’t agree to tutoring him, he stood no chance in graduating. 

There were days where your mind was boggled; he showed tremendous growth in the way that he completed his assignments. Sure, the answers he would write down weren’t always correct, but at least he was trying. 

You told yourself that you’d give him a week to decide whether or not he was actually serious about his education in order to continue with supporting him and surprisingly only one week in and he was working on each and every single paper or homework assigned to him. He even went back and completed missing assignments which caused you to sit back in disbelief. Who was this newly motivated person and what did he do with the snarky asshole Mark Tuan you’ve grown to loathe for quite some time now?

“Stop what?”

“Clicking your pen. You always do that. You’re distracting me. I’m trying to do my own work here.” 

You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was now wearing a smirk on his stupidly handsome face. It was in the tone of his voice; cheeky and coy—there were only a few occasions where he would try and flirt with you or what you assumed was flirting, you didn’t think Mark would consider you to be someone he’d find all that attractive. 

Although you barely knew anything about him, everyone and their mothers were aware that Mark Tuan had a specific type. Or well, at least all the girls he fooled around with looked similar in some way. He preferred girls on the shorter side with long, silky locks, a tiny waist and petite figure. 

They were also extremely beautiful; you believed you were the complete opposite of what he considered desirable. Yet, he would throw in sexual innuendos like how he’d much rather do you than his homework. Then again, it was probably his way of trying to get a rise out of you and you were very vocal about how he was walking on thin ice the longer he continued to joke around with you. 

None of that mattered though; you’ve made yourself immune to his many antics and if ever his words did have an effect on you, you’d remind yourself that it was only the cause of any kind of male attention since you weren’t used to talking to guys for longer than needed to. 

“Oh, so you pay attention to my mannerisms? That’s sexy—“

You scoffed at his assumption. This was definitely going to be a long day. It’s only been fifteen minutes and you were so close to slamming your head against your textbook in aggravation. 

“Shut up Tuan. It’s a pet peeve of mine and highly annoying, of course I caught on to it. How far are you in to your abstract?” 

He sent you a smirk and you were quick to avoid his gaze; taking his computer as he handed it over to you. You began to skim through the paragraphs—after observing him in the last week, you weren’t all that shocked with the fact that he actually did a good job. This abstract was for his biology class; he had to come up with a project that had to do with saving the earth and Mark decided to do his on biodegradable plastic. 

“I’m not going to lie, you did a pretty good job. But this is just the abstract, I expect a lot more effort when you start working on your actual research.” 

He hummed in agreement before taking back his laptop and typed away at the keys. The two of you sat in silence, but for the first time it was peaceful. It wasn’t awkward at all and you were grateful for the lack of animosity and tension in the atmosphere. Not that there ever really was though; Mark was a great conversationalist—but you never wanted to listen to what he had to say. 

“Hey y/n, I um—I’m throwing a party on Friday night and I was—I was wondering—um—well—would you maybe want to—you should come. It’ll be fun.” 

This question stopped you in your tracks; not only was it out of the blue and completely unlike Mark to ask you something he already knew the answer to, but he sounded very nervous? Or was it hesitance? His now shy demeanor wasn’t something you were used to seeing. 

In all your years of knowing him, you could honestly admit that this was the first time you’ve ever heard Mark stutter while inviting you to a party he was throwing. Although the two of you already discussed the fact that partying wasn’t your thing and that you would never even come within a few miles of whatever location it was that the celebration would be held at, you weren’t all too surprised at his sudden invitation. 

Mark portrayed himself to be the kind of person who didn’t take no for an answer. Even if you said no to the college night life, it was evident that he was going to try and get you to change your mind for whatever reason; probably to say that he was the first person who actually succeeded in getting you to attend a college party. Anyone and everyone who knew of you personally understood that the type of people Mark involved himself with were not your crowd at all. 

“That’s a joke right? You can’t be serious. I know you’re well aware that I don’t go to shit like that—“

“Why not y/n? I’m telling you, it’s going to be one hell of a time. You said so yourself, you’ve never attended any party nor have you ever gone out to a bar or a club, so you’d have no idea what it’s like. Friday is Jackson’s 23rd birthday and birthday celebrations are much more exciting than our normal events. There will be great music, good food, plenty of people—“

“Sex, weed, drugs, shitty alcohol, assholes who don’t know their limits and just assume a woman wants to sleep with them just because they’re wearing something revealing? Yeah, no thank you. Life isn’t just about fucking and getting high off of illegal substances, you know that right?” 

The scowl on his face—the way his brows were furrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek made it evident that he did not like one word coming out from your mouth. Honestly, neither did you. You weren’t like this at all. Even if you didn’t like someone or didn’t agree with the way they went about with their life, you never gave your opinion because who were you to tell them what to do? 

Who were you to judge their decisions and the choices they made? However, you wanted a way to get Mark in to opening his eyes to the toxic life he was currently living. You wanted him to know why he wasn’t doing too well in school; that his habits were destructive and that he needed to make decisions that would benefit his future—not his college self who only cared about temporary happiness and the high that came with being so high up on the social ladder.

“God y/n, who fucking hurt you? Why are you so harsh? Is that all you believe I care about? Sex? Money? Partying? It’s none of your business, but I care about so much more than what you assume I do. Not that it concerns you, but so what if I like to drink? So what if I like to smoke pot and have fun with my friends? I’m young, I have every right to have fun—“

“I didn’t say you couldn’t—“

“But you’re trying to make me feel bad for doing so. You think you’re such a great person just because you’re smart and you do well in school. News flash y/n, nobody likes a teacher’s pet. You guys think you’re better than everyone else just because you don’t get involved in the things that people like me do, but it doesn’t make you all the more greater than me. Maybe you’re not getting fucked, that’s why you have such a stick in your ass—“ 

Was this really happening right now? Sure, you were wrong for trying to paint him out to be the bad guy; especially because you had no idea what really went on in his life. Everything you were confronting him about was solely based on hearsay. 

Why did it bother you so much? The decisions he made for himself—living the kind of life he was currently living, why was it any of your business? He’s right—how he went about his day didn’t concern you. What he did in his free time wasn’t had nothing to do with you. Was it because of what your professor said the other day about how he was capable of greatness, but he was choosing to go down a path of destruction? 

Did you see something in him? Did you also believe that he could be more successful in his education if only he were to make it his number one priority? Of course you did? He proved to you multiple times this week that he wanted to do so much better and that he wasn’t incompetent or ignorant. 

He was trying—that’s all that mattered. What was so hard with acknowledging his efforts? If he was willing to take the time out of his schedule—even if you were well aware that studying and working on assignments were more important that whatever he normally did—than shouldn’t you be a little more amiable? You said so yourself, you didn’t hate him. 

So why were you treating him so harshly? It wasn’t fair to him—but you didn’t have a plausible answer and the last thing you’d ever do was show any ounce of concern for the older boy. 

“That’s not true. You know nothing about me Mark—“

“You don’t know jack shit about me either y/n yet here you are—claiming I’m some fucking nymphomaniac who needs to constantly shoot up drugs to be happy. Fuck, my effort—my constant need of approval from you—staying up till three in the morning working on those stupid fucking essays—they mean nothing to you huh? I’m always going to be a loser in your eyes—“ 

You don’t know what it was, but now you really felt bad for the way you attacked him out of nowhere. All he did was ask you to go to his party; you could have just said no. But now the truth was coming out and you felt like such a terrible person. 

“That’s not true Mark—“

“Bullshit y/n. I could become valedictorian and I’d still be a delinquent—a no good prick in your eyes.” 

Something in your body wanted to reach out to him, for reasons you didn’t think you’d ever be able to understand. Maybe it’s because you wrongfully accused him of being the person you assumed he was—only to find out he was far from what people painted him out to be. But you silenced the voice as soon as it appeared; if he were to find out that you were now filled with remorse, he would hold it against you. You’ve never seen Mark so upset before and you were so irritated with yourself for being the reason behind his anger. He was as much human as he was the cocky fuckboy he had a reputation of being. 

“Mark I—“

“You know what? I think it would be best for us to end it here today. I just remembered I have somewhere to be and no—before you assume, I’m not going to go get high and fuck the first person I lay my eyes on.” 

He didn’t even give you a second to respond to his spiteful words; he yanked at his backpack and threw it over his shoulder before storming away from the table. God, what was wrong with you? What did you just do? Not once in your life would you ever have thought that you’d be put in a situation where you’d feel apologetic for something you caused. 

This was all your fault. You couldn’t blame Mark for this one—as much as you wanted to say he instigated this entire argument by asking you a question he should have already known the answer to, maybe he felt like the two of you were civil enough where he could ask you something like that. You couldn’t blame him if he no longer wanted to continue your tutoring sessions. 

Hell, if you were in his shoes and he were to lash out on you and say all these degrading things about you, you probably would have slapped him in the face. Why didn’t you wait a few seconds to actually think before you said all of those negative things to him? He may have acted as though nothing bothered him; you were sure he’s heard the crude names some people would call him and he had to hear at least one rumor that was spreading around your campus. 

You couldn’t even count how many rumors you’ve heard about Mark on both of your hands. If only you were able to turn back time, you wouldn’t have confessed all that you did—even if you meant it in the moment. The look of fury on his face; yet the sorrow in his eyes made you feel like a monster. You ended up leaving the library not too long after he did, you couldn’t handle staying there knowing that you probably ruined the rest of his entire week. 

Right as you made it to your apartment, Mark stayed on your mind for the rest of the night. The thought of him haunted you as if your conscience wanted you to be reminded of your chastising. You couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep; you began to toss and turn trying your best to do whatever it was to grow tired—but nothing. 

All you could think about were ways to apologize. What could you say or do that would show him just how regretful you were and how you wished you could take back everything you said? You tried to tell yourself to get over it. For all you knew, he probably did. 

Your opinion shouldn’t have mattered to him; he had to be over it or at least you were hoping he moved passed the entire situation. You weren’t surprised when he didn’t show up in the library at your normal meeting time the next day. He didn’t end up coming on Thursday either. 

A huge part of you wanted to reach out to him; to text him or even call him, asking him if he wanted to end your sessions completely but you were too much of a coward. You also wanted to give him his space. It was still too early for you to try and apologize to him. He’d probably laugh in your face or worse, make a fool out of you in front of his friends. When Friday came around, you came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to meet up with you for the rest of this week. 

The fight was such a distraction; you couldn’t concentrate at all in any of your classes or at work. One of these days, you just had to suck it up and find him—confess your mistake even if he refused to listen. He needed to know that you were wholeheartedly rueful.

“Hey Mark, we ran out of vodka dude! Yugyeom said he’ll drive if you go in to the store.” 

An exasperated sigh fell from his lips. In the beginning of the week and even when Mark was first planning this party a couple of weeks ago, he was extremely excited. 

Jackson was his best friend; sure, he was close with every single member of their friend group, but he’s known Jackson the longest and they just had a closer bond than the others did. However, he wanted nothing more than to pass on the party planning and all the responsibilities that came with it to somebody else. 

Your words—he didn’t understand why he was letting it bother him so much. If it were anyone else, he would have brushed their words off like nothing. He didn’t care what anyone had to think about him. Mark wasn’t stupid; he saw the way people would look at him in the hall. Girls would either gawk at him or glare at him. 

Guys would either roll their eyes at him or want to talk with him. But for some reason, he found himself wanting to impress you. Little did you know, Mark has noticed you from the time you guys were in middle school. He thought you were cute and he inspired to be even half of the amazing student you were. Seeing as though he never cared too much about education the way he did with sports, he believed that you wouldn’t find him all that interesting nor was there anything the two of you had in common. 

Since you both came from two different worlds—you never really interacted with each other in high school and when you moved on to college, your university was huge; there was no way the two of you would bump in to each other. However, when he saw you on the first day of class, Mark knew this was his chance to simply talk with you. 

He had been well aware that you must have known all about him and he could only hope that you didn’t see him in a negative light. He didn’t know how to approach you and he’s energetic talked to a girl in any other way that flirtatiously. That’s why he pestered you so much; it was the only way he thought he could get your attention. 

Hearing how you truly felt about him though really made his head spin. The way you treated him in class whenever he’d ask for a pencil or some paper—those encounters alone made it evident that you had ill feelings for him, but he didn’t think they were all that bad. After you practically sprinted away from the lecture hall after your professor, Mark felt as though he already knew your answer. You hated him; you had to. 

There was no other explanation to the way you would look at him like he was the scum under your feet and between your toes. He wanted to prove you wrong; he wanted to change the way you saw him, what you thought about him. The older boy had a hard time processing the idea of worrying about how you saw him. He couldn’t give less of a shit if people didn’t like him or assumed that he was a womanizer who spent most of his college career drinking beers and smoking blunts. 

However, hearing your venom filled words really stuck a nerve with him and for some reason, he wanted to do whatever he could in his power to change your outlook on him. Mark knew exactly why he was so bothered with the fact that you thought so negatively of him. He’s always believed that you were one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever laid his eyes on. 

From the sixth grade all the way to junior year in high school; Mark admired you from afar. Sometimes, he’d debate on joining one of the clubs you were in just to be near you in the hopes of developing a friendship with you, but his friends would’ve had a field day. 

If anyone were to see him in the library with a bunch of nerds for book club just to get your attention, he would never hear the end of it. He might have known that you didn’t necessarily care for him, but you did tell him you didn’t hate him. 

Your confession the other day said otherwise; each and every single word that fell from your mouth was like a punch in the gut. In fact; Mark’s been in enough altercations to know that he was more hurt mentally by what you had to say than he ever was while having fists thrown at him. He wanted to be mad at you, but he just couldn’t. 

Sure, the way you went about confessing what you thought about him was extremely rude, but most of what you said was true. He couldn’t blame you for thinking so brashly towards him, but he thought with the amount of effort he was putting in not only in to his studies, but in to your meet ups that you would see him as more than just a fuckboy. 

You obviously had better things to do, but he was still so grateful that you agreed to tutoring him. With the way you would barely speak a word while you were together, Mark could tell that you weren’t all that fond of his presence, but he didn’t want to give up in trying to at least be someone you’d want to be friends with.

Anger couldn’t even describe half of what Mark was thinking once he left you there in the library. He was more disappointed in himself than he was in you, particularly because he made that reputation for himself. There were so many instances where he could have changed his playboy ways, but he never did and now he was paying for it. 

This had to be his karma for all the times he broke the hearts of poor, innocent girls who developed feelings for him. The only girl he ever cared about and wanted to become closer with on a more personal level was the same girl who hated his entire existence. 

“Hey man, is everything okay? You’ve been out of it the last two days. Did something happen?” 

Mark shrugged indifferently; he trusted his younger friend with his entire life. Yugyeom was like a younger brother to him. Mark and his younger brother Joey never really got along. Hell, they hardly ever talked to each other unless their parents forced them to and it was because Mark was adamantly jealous of Joey’s drive and workmanship while Joey considered Mark to be a bum; he had no future at the rate he was going. 

Since he was the oldest out of the seven of them, they were all like younger brothers to him but since Yugyeom was the youngest, Mark was the most protective over him. Yugyeom had to be the least air-headed and narcissistic. Although, he did enjoy the fact that girls would grovel at his feet and literally throw themselves at him, he didn’t lead any of them on the way his older friends did. He was also very polite to everyone he did encounter and he could never show any ounce of malice. 

“It’s nothing—don’t worry about me, let’s just get this over with.” 

It wasn’t unusual for their car rides to be filled with silence. Sometimes it was just nice to listen to the radio and not have to be bothered by unnecessary conversation. Talking wasn’t something Mark was a fan of and neither was Yugyeom; in fact, that was one of the reasons why he enjoyed driving around with the younger boy so much. 

Nothing was expected out of Mark like it was if he were to go out with Jinyoung orBamBam. Thankfully, the grocery store was less than five minutes away from Jackson’s house and before he knew it, they were pulling up right in front of it. 

“Hey Mark, do you think you could get me some condoms while you’re in there? I ran out yesterday.” 

If it were anyone else, he would have told them to fuck off and to go in and get them themselves. But since it was Yugyeom and he could never say no to him, he just took his money without hesitation. He didn’t have a problem with having to buy condoms. It was better to be safe than to be sorry. Mark didn’t think it was wrong to want to be protected during sex. 

Everyone had sex these days, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for a man his age to purchase condoms. He didn’t want to seem self indulged, but one look at Mark and you knew he got his dick sucked on a weekly basis. Since he was only buying a couple of things, mainly from the alcohol aisle, he didn’t waste time looking around for things he wouldn’t need. 

The alcohol aisle was in the front of the store; he didn’t frequent this supermarket all that often but he’s been here enough times to know where most of his necessities were located. Right after picking up three different bottles of vodka, he briskly made his way over to the condoms; picking up the Trojan ecstasy that Yugyeom repeatedly told him to purchase and then he went on the search for a bottle opener. 

He assumed it was somewhere near the alcohol, so he began to make his way back to the aisle—until he got a text from Yugyeom saying Jinyoung asked for some candles and a lighter. Those two items he had no idea where to find them, so he made his way over to an associate. If he wasn’t in a rush, he would’ve looked for the items himself—he hated having to talk to people if he didn’t have to. Mark was very good at finding whatever it was that he needed without assistance, but he didn’t want to waste any time. 

The sooner they returned back to the party, the faster he could go back to his place. Once he saw someone stocking up canned foods in one of the aisles near the freezer, he approached her impatiently; not wanting to get a text from Yugyeom telling him to hurry up. 

“Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find candles—y/n?” 

Mark didn’t think his mood could get any worse; he had every intention on getting drunk off his ass tonight but it wasn’t going to be until he returned back to his loft. If he were to drink at the party, he was 100% sure from past experiences that he would either end up having to help Jackson with the cleaning or he would be in bed with someone by the end of the night and he had no intentions on doing anything but going straight to sleep once it was all over—or until Jackson was drunk enough not to notice his disappearance. 

Seeing you for the first time that night—and in a grocery store of all places brought him through so many different emotions. He didn’t think he was ready to face you just yet, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss you. Wait—what? There was no way he missed you—no. He couldn’t have. 

You made him feel so pathetic—so miserable—so small and the two of you weren’t even friends. He knew deep in his gut that you despised him; you showed no interest in any attempt of his trying to get to know you. For the first time in his entire life, you made him feel insecure. Like—he wasn’t worthy of having you as a friend or even just as a tutor. 

But you never left his mind once since that God awful day. At first, he believed it was because your words had such a huge effect on him. He believed every single thing you had to say. Most of it was true, sure—but the way you indirectly hinted towards him being a nobody if he kept his act up—that wrecked him. 

Mark meant what he said when he admitted to working harder in school in order to impress you. He didn’t want you to think you were wasting your time tutoring him only for him to learn nothing and not get around to completing assignments. He wanted you to know that your sacrifice meant a lot to him and that he was planning on cleaning his act up so you wouldn’t regret your decision; even if you did get something out of it. 

His chest soon grew heavy and he felt like his throat was swollen; as if no words would come out if he actually tried to speak. The night he went home, he contemplated ending the entire thing only because he assumed you no longer wanted anything to do with him and because he didn’t think he could face you. Not after everything that escalated. However, he knew that nobody would be able to help him with his work the way that you did. He wouldn’t be able to learn from anyone else anyway—but he stayed away for the last two days because he wanted to calm down. 

There was no way in hell he could pretend nothing happened and he was afraid of saying something that he didn’t mean just to spite you. Mark wasn’t sure just how long he was going to go without meeting with you, but he wasn’t going to take too long or he was sure you would think he no longer needed the tutoring which was far from the truth. 

Something about seeing you—not only for the first time after going two days without meeting up with you but at your workplace made his stomach sore. He didn’t know why it bothered him seeing you in your uniform; watching you stack cans up on the shelves. Something about it made him feel somewhat—sad. 

Maybe it’s because he knows just how much of a hardworking student you were and an even more successful person in general and he would never had expected you to work somewhere so—well—lackluster and dull. People like you—headstrong and determined should be working as supervisors in prestigious companies or at least a receptionist at a hospital or something. Anything better than an old supermarket. 

“Hi.”

“You—you work here?” 

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment; not knowing how to act in front of you and he was fearful of saying something stupid. 

“Yeah.”

“Why?” 

He mentally slapped himself—what did it matter where you worked? It wasn’t any of his business. Your business was none of his to worry about just as much as his was none of your concern. But you deserved so much better—in more ways than one. 

“What do you mean why? It’s a job? I need money?”

“Well I mean yeah—but you could do so much better than this shit show.” 

You had to stifle back a laugh and seeing your eyes crinkle at his comment did wonders to his heart. This was the first time he’s ever seen your emotions; other than having a constant glare or frown on your face and he really enjoyed it. Happiness suited you. He liked seeing you smile and now, he grew to desire being the reason behind it. 

“The pay is pretty good, and it’s only five minutes away from where I live so it’s convenient.”

“Oh—well, I mean when you put it that way—I just—I—never mind.” 

The two of you averted your gazes to the ground; he couldn’t look at you because he was now worried that you caught on to the fact that he cared about you. At this point, Mark wasn’t concerned whether or not you knew that he wanted to protect you or that he was afraid for your safety. He’d just make up a lie about not having someone to tutor him if something bad were to happen to you if you happened to ask him why your job bothered him. 

“What was it that you were looking for?”

“Ah—um, candles and a lighter. We got Jackson this big cake and he just let Jinyoung know that his parents don’t have any candles at their house—sorry—too much information.”

You shook your head in disagreement before leading him to the aisle in which he assumed he could find things for parties. He knew in that moment that you no longer were irritated with him; you could have just told him where the items were located but you actually brought him there. That had to be a good thing right? 

“Here we go. There’s pocket ones and the longer one. We have matches if you don’t want to worry about it dying out. And the candles are right next to the paper plates.” He thanked you politely and began to make his way toward the candles. However, your soft voice calling out to him stopped Mark in his tracks. 

“I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said anything that I did. It’s not my place to make such stupid assumptions about you and I should’ve told you this sooner—“

“Hey, don’t worry about it okay? You weren’t wrong. Well, for the most part everything you mentioned was true. Sure, I could’ve gone without hearing all of that but it’s done. I’m over it. And if you’re okay with it, I’d still like to receive tutoring from you.” The look of surprise on your face tugged on his heartstrings; how could someone be so cute yet make him so hard? You were otherworldly. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m the one that fucked everything up. I should be on my knees, begging you for forgiveness—“

“If you want to make it up to me, you’ll be on your knees begging for something else—ow! Who knew you had such an arm on you y/n.” He playfully rubbed the part of his shoulder that you punched him at but it didn’t stop him from picking up on your now quiet demeanor.

“It seems as though you already have someone else who will do that for you, so—“ 

He looked down at the box of condoms and internally screamed. Fucking Kim Yugyeom—always asking for the wrong things at the wrong time. Although Mark knew exactly why he was frustrated being caught by you holding a box of condoms, you already presumed that he lived a very sexually active lifestyle. It was one thing to think that he was hooking up with more than half of the student body, but it was a completely other thing seeing proof for yourself. 

“These? Oh, um. These actually aren’t for me. Yugyeom is waiting for me in the car and he asked me to buy him some—“

You gave him a small smile, one he wouldn’t even have noticed if he wasn’t heavily observing your facial reactions. He wanted nothing more than to know what you were thinking. If he was being honest with himself, you probably couldn’t give less of a shit if he was in fact buying them for his use. 

What did it matter to you? The longer the two of you stood there in the awkward, the more he began to come up with excuses as to why he didn’t want you thinking he was going to hook up with someone tonight. Nobody knew this and if any of his friends were to find out—he was screwed. 

Mark hasn’t slept with anyone since the two of you began your study sessions for reasons still unbeknownst to him but only then; looking at you and your big—doe like eyes, wanting to take you away from that wretched place you called your working environment, trying his best to hide the smile that was peering up at him just standing there in your presence, wanting to ditch the party in order to listen to you talk about the civil war and the different types of matter there was—it was in that moment that he finally accept his feelings for what they were. 

He was falling in love with you. 

Love. 

The older boy has never experienced that emotion before. Ever. He’s never met anyone who made him crave attention, comfort, infatuation, friendship—love. Nobody made him feel the way you currently were. Nobody had ever taken up so much space in his mind and consumed his thoughts entirely the way you had in less than the four months he’s gotten to interact with you for. 

You made him mad—furious even with the idea that you judged him without even getting to know him, the real him. Yet you also made him smile like an idiot at how much effort you’d put in to your lesson plans and how you would nonchalantly ask him if he ate or how school went. 

No one, not even his friends would check up on how he was doing and for some reason, no matter how much you’d try to come off as though you thought nothing of him, Mark was sure there was some part of you that cared about him and that was enough to solidify what he harbored for you. 

The feelings he developed for you back in middle and high school; they came back full force in less than a month and splashed on him like freezing cold water—searing through his skin and sending electricity through his bones. Obviously, it wasn’t something he was used to. Hell, it scared him; knowing he was falling for someone he didn’t know would reciprocate his same feelings—he’s never had to deal with that kind of uncertainty before. 

“You don’t have to explain it to me Mark, we’re not friends. It’s none of my concern, remember?”

“No, but I want it to be. I want to be friends with you y/n. You know, you’re really smart, but you’re not that bright—“

“Do you want me to hit you again?” 

Mark couldn’t help but let out another giggle. God, what were you doing to him? He’s never let anyone have so much control and power over him before and he was starting to really enjoy the effect you were having on him. He could only hope that one day, you would change your outlook on him completely. He was well aware that the possibility of you ever liking him back was slim, but it wasn’t impossible. “No, but like I said, I’d be honored if you allowed me to be

 your friend.” You scrunched your face as though you were disgusted by his choice of words, but he knew you were just messing around with him.

“You sound so proper putting it like that. But sure, that sounds like a good idea. We have three more months to work together, so I guess it would be best for us not to desire ripping the other’s head off.”

“I never wanted to rip your head off. I actually think your head is pretty great—oh, um, hold on for just a second.” 

The vibrating in his pocket brought him straight back to reality. He would continue talking to you for hours if he had the choice, but Yugyeom was probably wondering what could be taking Mark so long. 

“I couldn’t find the candles and the lighter—the party isn’t going to end this early dumb ass would you wait—what? Fine, I’ll be right out.” He released a frustrated sigh before giving you a grim look. 

“I better get going. What um—what time are you done? I don’t want you to go home too late, it’s dangerous out there. I could come back and pick you up—“

“It’s fine Mark. I’m done in half an hour and I drove here, but thank you for the offer. Yeah, me too. I’m sure my manager is wondering why I have yet to go to the stockroom. We still have a lot of shipment from earlier. Enjoy the party—oh, and by the way, I need you to know that you’re a remarkable person Mark. I know you’re trying your best and I’m sorry I didn’t praise you earlier on your growth, but I’m really proud of you. Have a nice evening.” 

Mark was sure that if he were to look in a mirror, his cheeks would be red—they sure felt like it. You made him feel like a school boy, blushing from being around his crush. He was now happier than he’s ever been in a really long time and it was just by your compliment alone. He couldn’t wait to see how your friendship was going to develop; he couldn’t wait to be able to be more free around you and not have to worry about you getting mad at his flirty little remarks. Once he finished paying and returned back to the car, he wasted no time punching Yugyeom in the shoulder. 

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?”

“Next time, buy your own shit. People gave me weird looks for buying your fucking rubbers for you.” The younger boy rolled his eyes as he began to drive away. 

“Who gives a shit what people think? I’m a twenty-two year old man in college, it’s only natural for me to have sex right now. And hey, at least I’m being safe right?” 

Mark scoffed. Out of their entire group of friends, Mark and Yugyeom were the ones who had the most action; or at least that’s what he thought from what they would always tell each other. Youngjae and BamBam weren’t as needy for intercourse and Jinyoung had been booking up with the same girl for the last two months—but Mark was the only one who knew that. Safe was the last thing Yugyeom could ever be; honestly, Mark wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to find out that Yugyeom had a baby somewhere out there but it wasn’t his place to say anything.

“There’s more behind your anger than what you’re putting out there—so spill.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You buy condoms once a week, don’t give me that shit. You saw someone there that you knew didn’t you?” 

Mark didn’t know what to say. Sure, he trusted that Yugyeom wouldn’t judge him if he were to find out that he had a crush on you—well, more than just a little crush but no one needed to know exactly how he felt about you. But Yugyeom was as much a guy as he was Mark’s friend. He would mess around with him and probably wouldn’t understand the older boy’s feelings. 

“Just somebody from my English class. She works there and I had to ask her for assistance with the candles—“

“Wait, are you talking about y/n?” The older boy looked at him in disbelief? How did he know who Mark was talking about without even having him say your name? How did he know who you were? 

“You know y/n?”

“Yeah, she’s in my religion class. She’s the only person I know who works at that dump. She’s also the only hot one there too. I’ve been trying to indirectly ask her out for weeks but she doesn’t get the hint—“

“Or she doesn’t like you like that.” 

Yugyeom let out a snicker and turned to Mark as he pulled up to a red light. “We all know any girl would get weak at the knees just being able to talk to me. She’s just playing hard to get, that’s all. But since you said that, I can’t help but wonder—you like her don’t you? Wait, is y/n the reason why you’ve been such a grumpy old man lately?” 

Normally Yugyeom wasn’t one to get involved in Mark’s private life; none of them would stick their noses in places where they shouldn’t be. But then again, Yugyeom was always kind of nosy and he had a tendency to constantly pry at his older friends if there was information that he wanted to know. It only took them five minutes to get to the store, why did it seem like it was taking them forever to get back to Jackson’s place? 

“No. I barely know her—“

“Eyyyyy, Mark, I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid. If you didn’t like her, you wouldn’t care that she saw you getting these. You don’t have to lie to me. I don’t blame you, she’s pretty much a complete package. Beauty, body, brains—I bet she’s great at giving head as she is using it. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything—but what about we make this interesting.” 

Mark could feel his blood boil hearing Yugyeom say those things about you. It wasn’t as if he didn’t describe other girls the way Yugyeom was with you, but he hated hearing anyone talk dirty about you or degrade you like the way Yugyeom just did. He knew the younger boy was just messing around with him, but he was afraid that things were going to take a turn for the worst if Yugyeom were to continue. 

“What are you referring to Yugyeom?” The younger boy raised his brow before biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I bet you—“

“Fuck that, no bets. I’m not doing that shit, especially not one involving y/n—“

“Come on man, don’t be such a pussy. It’ll be fun. What? Scared you won’t be able to do it?”

No. I’m scared it’s going to ruin everything between y/n and I if things go to shit in the end. 

“No. Of course not you dick. I’m the king of bets. You know that. Fine, whatever. Lay it on me asshole.” 

Yugyeom found his previous parking spot and waited until he turned the car off before he faced Mark and began to think about his next move. Damnit, why did he agree so easily? He should have tried harder in rejecting his friend’s suggestion. Bets were never good. Especially involving girls. 

They had these stupid bets all the time and from experience, Mark had a feeling what Yugyeom was going to have him do had to deal with sex. Mark didn’t even think about you and him in that way—well, of course he did. There were few occasions where you’d talk back to him and he wanted to see what else your mouth could do—but sex was the last thing he wanted to do with you. 

As of right now, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to learn each and every little thing about you. He wanted to make you laugh, he wanted to hold you, to kiss you and to be the reason why you woke up happy every single morning. He wanted to flaunt you off to the entire school and to take you home to meet his family. He wanted to be yours. But people like Mark and people like you would never work together—even if that’s all he really wanted, life was never that easy and by the sly look on Yugyeom’s face, he had a feeling that the bet was going to be difficult. 

“You have one month to bring y/n to one of these parties and she has to kiss you in front of all of us. You can’t kiss her and you can’t ask her to kiss you—she has to do it on her own.” 

Mark scoffed, that was going to be a piece of cake—but wait, this was you he was talking about. It took him three months to even get you to talk to him, there was no way you were going to kiss him willingly and at a party of theirs. Yugyeom probably knew it wasn’t going to work and that’s why he proposed that idea. 

“What if I win?”

“You get a hot chick wrapped around your finger. What more could you want?”

“Dude I’m going to call this bet off before it even starts—“

“Fine, I’ll give you $100.”

“Okay, and if I lose?”

“Then I’ll fuck her myself and send you the video.” His jaw clenched and he could feel himself ready to leap over the console in order to slap Yugyeom’s cocky smile off his face. The thought of anyone, let alone one of his closest friends fooling around with you sent a bad feeling to his chest and he was going to do whatever he could to make sure that never happened.

“Dude, she’s not going to sleep with you, find something else.”

“Woah, someone’s confident that he knows all about our pretty little grocery clerk—fine. If I win, I get to borrow your motorcycle for a week.” 

There were so many red flags going off in his head—this wasn’t going to turn out very well. But it wasn’t all that bad of a bet and unfortunately, Mark’s ego was the size of California. If he were to say no, he’d look like such a punk and he knew Yugyeom would tell their friends—so it didn’t come as a shock when he found himself shaking Yugyeom’s hand. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

[cherrysung]

pairing: soulmate!jaemin x reader

genre: guardian angel au / fluff / slight angst

warnings: language, sad themes, character death (car crash), suggestive (not explicit, I suck at smut), my shitty writing (I’m so sorry)

summary: the glimmering boy from the accident would often visit you in the depths of your dreams with eager eyes, your imagination the only place where he could allow you to see him. that is, until you finally became an adult.

word count: 10.2k

note: this is my first time writing a long fic, it might seem rushed or confusing but I’m sure I’ll improve with time, so feedback will be greatly appreciated. anyways, I truly hope you enjoy the story from the bottom of my heart! also, thank you @glossyjaems for hyping me up on this!

cherrysung’s navigation

The rain poured violently, hitting the car windows in near agression as you mindlessly watched the drops race down, ‘till they eventually disappeared from your view. The roads were hugely engulfed in a sea of haze, and it was complicated to decipher the direction in which the car was heading towards, amidst all the fog surrounding. You remember a gentle song playing quietly from the radio, and if it weren’t for the furious banging of the weather, you’d be fast asleep. Asleep, in the warm arms of your mother, who held you so dearly. No one expected what was to come. The anxious stirring from your father, the deafening crash, the cries of the woman who now held you tightly with fear, or the pitch black darkness that consumed everybody in an instant.

Four years, you were only four years when you lost your entire family; and you were supposed to leave with them. Softly, the song kept playing, when you caught a gleaming silhouette in the distance. Just like that, consciousness slipped away from you.

Years went by quickly, time left but memories stayed. The helpless screams of your father and your mother’s tears that fell onto your chubby cheeks; you remember them vividly. You thought memories were supposed to be cherished, but yours only managed to haunt you every progressing day of your life. A life that was meant to be taken away from you, a life that was meant to be spent with your loved ones. You lost one option for the price of the other and you weren’t sure what was worse, there was no way an answer from something as intricate as existence could be obtained. All you knew was the shimmering light before blackness tugged at your vision. Tall, lean and majestic; you wished it would’ve been one of the few memories that did stay, but it seemed like it was fading away more and more as the clock ticked by.

Attached to several tubes and beeping machines, you had woken up disoriented that day, completely unaware of your surroundings. So confused, you couldn’t even process or fathom what just had happened; the death of your parents, or the cuts and bruises that stung your delicate, baby skin. A nurse was walking by the room you were in when she noticed the small of your figure sitting up on the hard hospital bed, immediately bursting through the door with shock plastered on her young face.

You were not expected to survive a coma. You were not even meant to survive a deadly car crash. No one was really expecting you to wake up. In the midst of all the chaos that had eventually formed by the surprised nurses and hospital staff, you could only stare through the small-framed window, at the bright spark that shined outside in the empty streets. Only for your eyes to see.

Growing up with your grandparents had its perks. They were very pure beings; always trying the best they could to keep a content smile on your bruised face, always trying to show you the love their own children couldn’t. Their mythical, fantasy tales were your favorite; the ones where everything and everyone was magical, where anything could happen because suddenly animals and plants could talk, and the Earth wasn’t as soulless. Your lovely storytellers successfully distracted you from the harsh truth, that an innocent child like you had to learn at a very young age their family; the woman who birthed you and the man who held you in his arms for the first time, were gone. Just like they had left, the time came where their own parents had to step off the journey of life, too. This time, you were fully alone to face the frightening reality and malicious threats of those who weren’t happy. Fifthteen years old, you were now totally by yourself.

Or so, you thought.

Forming part of your grandparents’ usual anecdotes and short stories, was the tale consisting of soulmates. Soulmate, someone destined to be by your side forever. You knew they loved talking about myths and legends, so believing that something as harsh as life already had prepared an individual to cherish you, seemed impossible. More so, when it took your parents from you in the worst way possible. Naturally, you brushed the thought aside despite your grandmother’s last words, asking you to wait for the letter, one that was soon to come. You didn’t know what she was talking about, and quite frankly, you were too distressed to care; helplessly watching the world take yet again, someone from you.

Every night after the accident that almost took your life, images began forming in your head. What were images turned into short dreams, and soon, they were a common occasion every time you slipped off into slumber. After giving a final goodbye to your grandparents, those visions only seemed to increase. There, you would always meet him. The boy with excited eyes, somehow he always appeared remarkably delighted to see you, although you couldn’t understand why. Who was he? Why was he in your nightly thoughts all the time? You didn’t know, but you didn’t mind either. He was divine, always formally dressed in a white suit; black, lustrous shoes and hair combed back so carefully accompanied by a slight part enough to show some of his forehead. A person so tremendously handsome, you usually wondered how your young mind was even able to create such a heavenly man.

You never failed to meet him in your dreams. Enveloped by all the loneliness you had been left with, you looked forward to see him until the sun decided to rise from within the towering mountains and over the vast horizon; the sultry warmth of a new day bringing you out of the place where only the two of you knew. Life was mostly dull unless you were having your fair share of time with the celestial boy in the depths of your imagination.

Age seventeen came through, gifting you with the fading of majority of the scars that had been left on your skin as a daily reminder of what happened years ago. One of them, though, chose to accompany you forever. It was fine, you assured yourself, no matter how dark it sounded, it was the closest thing to your parents that you had. Rather than despising it, you’d enjoy it.

The town you lived in wasn’t all that special. It was small and far from the bigger cities, home to a low population of friendly people. Everyone knew each other; and everybody knew what happened the winter of 2006, when your parents died. The year your whole world came crashing down; like the angry ocean waves would hit at the random, jagged rocks that stuck from beneath the water. In spite of the tragedy you had to endure, nobody treated you with shameless pity, and instead taught you that yes; life can be threatening, but it can also be marvellous. You realized that living is unexpected; one day you’re breathing, the next one you could be gone. It’s difficult to accept the fact that everybody’s fate is exceptionally different. Sometimes they might leave with pride, sometimes they might leave with fear. Of course you didn’t know what the world had in store for your future, but you certainly didn’t want to keep drowning in your sea of miserable grief.

Sighing, you put an end to your train of thoughts as you plopped down on your bed’s soft mattress. Your grandparents’ wooden house was the same as it was the day they left; cosy, warm and vintage. You would often dream here about what the actual cities looked like, your last time catching the bright, colorful lights being the same day of the accident. Grandma didn’t want to tell you much as she usually avoided describing the occurence in detail, but she did admit you were on your way to visit her and the rest when the early winter storm caught up with the unplanned trip. Maybe, if your father would’ve chosen to spend one last day at your old house, they would be here today.

The endless questions and memories that consumed you everyday were enough to lull you off into a deep sleep.

Suddenly, everything around you looked magical and extraordinary in the sea of green, healthy grass that kissed at your bare feet oh so tenderly. Several flowers that accompanied the slightly flowing ocean of emerald were colorful; blues, pinks, yellows, purples. Every single shade thinkable was present. A sky so heavenly azure, and a small amount of white, fluffy cotton clouds decorating it beautifully. You discovered, you were no longer in reality. You were in your dreams. Far off in the distance, your eyes spotted the same white suit you had grown accustomed to seeing, and your feet immediately headed in the direction of the clean attire. There he was, the same boy who was nothing but absolutely ethereal, sitting on the soft field of tulips and roses under a large oak tree. He didn’t have to search to know you were there; he felt your presence from miles away, even when you were not meeting him in your lovely thoughts. After all, he had always been there with you. You just weren’t aware of it.

Despite the tall grass that occasionally tangled with your feet, you reached him easily, quietly taking a seat next to him on the velvety ground. “Hello.” He simply greeted, still looking off into the horizon as he slowly grazed his hands through the flowers surrounding him. Features so enchanting, his face looked like it had been sculpted and carved by the gods themselves. A defined nose and jawline, narrow eyes that only conveyed pure compassion, with a final touch of the smoothest skin you had ever seen before. He was literally glowing with beauty.

“Hi,” you replied shortly with a small smile, “we meet again.” He turned to glance at you, his eyes surveying lightly over your own features. He thought you were breathtaking.

He slightly nodded his head, the setting sun offering a nice dew to his warm skin. “We do.” A pause took over, and you wondered why he was so quiet today; usually, you were used to him being more talkative, even flirty. Before you could say anything else, he spoke up with a graceful smile. “You’re turning eighteen soon, right?” You could only nod, a huge knot forming in your chest at the thought of spending yet another birthday without the company of your family, you wished they would’ve been able to watch you turn into an adult. “Don’t be sad, just because they’re not with you physically, doesn’t mean they’re also not with you emotionally. If you think about it, they have never left.”

It had become a common feeling to be taken aback by his sudden rightful guessings of your thoughts. You never understood how he was able to tell what you were currently thinking, and honestly, it didn’t seem like you’d ever know, for his answers had always been along the lines of having a strong intuition.

By now, the bright sun had almost completely set behind the horizon, engulfing the vast grasslands with warm hues of oranges, yellows and reds; while the quick approaching night brought with itself a sea of blues, purples and pinks. The colors mixing together created a stunning evening sky, a view so captivating you could misinterpret it for a famous Italian painting. “I guess you’re right,” you agreed with his previous statement, “but I just wish I was able to spend a day meant to be so special with my family. In the flesh, I mean. I’m tired of spending my birthday by myself. Turning eighteen was supposed to feel exciting, but I can’t seem to find eagerness anywhere within my emotions when I know I’ll be on my own again.” Exhaling with slight disappointment, you softly pulled at a honeysuckle beside you and allowed yourself to savor the sweet taste of the nectar that it gingerly left on your tongue. You wondered if there was anything else more sugary than the tasty honey of the tiny flower.

“I understand.” He replied with a slight nod as he watched you grab another honeysuckle. Then, he did something he had never done before, and his hand grasped yours delicately. You were certain this was only a dream, still, you could feel him. You could feel his skin and the warmth that radiated from his hand, along with the creases on his much bigger palm. Somehow, the skin there wasn’t soft like you imagined, in fact, it was sort of rough; either way, they still managed to feel silky as they held your own. “But hey,” his eyes twinkled with happiness as he beamed, “I promise you, you won’t be spending your eighteenth birthday alone this time. I promise, really.”

“I hope you’re right,” you let the boy intertwine his fingers with yours, “I’ve been meeting you in my dreams for the longest time. Things like this don’t happen, so I believe you might be telling the truth.”

His eyebrows furrowed adorably as he shook his head, “I always tell the truth, lying is wrong. Besides, I would never do that to you.”

“Indeed.” You grinned lightly, and only now had you remembered this had been the first time in a while where you had shown genuine merriment. Night had taken over, and now the dark sky was covered in multiple little stars that, although from your perspective they barely sparkled, you were sure they glowed the brightest if close enough. Sometimes, what shines the most is not always the first thing noticed. The boy holding your hand frequently questioned why you couldn’t see that on yourself; why you couldn’t see how dazzling you really were, like the twinkling balls of fire that called themselves stars. Sighing with joy, you kept staring up at the endless heavens, the lively moon being your only source of light. “Hey?” You spoke up again, earning yourself a hum from the handsome boy. He didn’t seem to age, he still looked the same as he did the first time you ever saw him in yours dreams. Now, you realized his features resembled the same as a regular teenager like you, except he was obviously striking. “I’ve been meeting you here for as long as I can remember, but I never got your name.”

He chuckled, thinking you sounded cute. His free hand gently pulled at a fully bloomed rose, its scarlet red shade so bright and vibrant in the scarce night light. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that yet, love.” He shook his head, releasing your hand and instead replacing his own with the beautiful rose. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough, you just have to wait a little bit more. Then, you will get an answer to all your questions. They say patience is key.” Standing up, he carefully pulled you up with him too, pressing a faint kiss to your forehead. “Lovely, it’s time for you to leave.”

“But I don’t want to.” You muttered, not quite looking forward to another lonely day.

The boy laughed lowly as he began walking in the opposite path from where you initially came from. “Dont worry, you see me here everyday, right? I’ll be waiting for you here on your next dream. And the next one, and the one after, and the one after. I will always be waiting. Just do me a favor, will you? Take that rose with you, consider it my early birthday gift. Keep it, and care for it. Also, remember my promises, I won’t ever break them.”

Just like that, he disappeared in the multitude of blooming flowers, as you felt yourself fade away from the world you wished was your reality.

You woke up from your deep slumber, a smile etched across your face as you thought of your little secret, who you always encountered in your dreams wearing the same white suit. Your conscious itself was still adapting to the daylight of a new day and the comforting heat radiating all the way from your window. Hair disheveled, and eyes puffy from sleep, you had not woken up yet completely. As your senses adjusted, strangely enough, you felt something smooth against your arm, only then noticing the red rose resting nicely next to you while its petals softly kissed at your skin. A gasp left your lips instantly, and you quickly scurried off the bed as fast as lighting to stare incredulously at the flower laying on it. You were a hundred percent sure that was not there before drifting off. Yet, as freaked out as you were, the boy’s words filled your mind, and you reluctantly picked up the gorgeous plant to place it in a vase of fresh water.

The brand new day carried on as always, unwanted and repetitive. Many outsiders who traveled from the bigger cities claimed your small town was breathtaking; here, they didn’t have to deal with the awful sounds or smells that the multiple factories over there emitted, they didn’t have to deal with the large streets full of traffic and impatient car horns from people who were desperate to get home. Here, your town was everything but the opposite. Streets were not paved, instead, they were nice dirt paths created by the town’s own people so cars could drive by easily. It was mostly rural; adorned with greenery, flowers, crops and the overall touch of unbothered Mother Nature. A huge pond occupied by different, colorful fish was located in the center of the town, also serving as a usual meeting spot for friends or couples who wanted to have a lovely day out. Lastly, the most special detail; a large river stream ran through, which had been decorated between the passing years with several tiny shops and homely bakeries that had slowly started forming alongside it. Generally, it reminded you of pictures from Venice, Italy that you’d see on the internet.

In spite of how gifting your little town was, it’s not like you could enjoy it when you had no one to explore it with. You had your fair shares of adventures around it when you were young, but as you inevitably grew older, so did the cravings for companionship, for a friend. A friend you didn’t have. Growing up without any parents somehow prevented children at school from befriending you, claiming it was weird to not have a mother or a father. You never blamed them, nor did you resent them; they were merely young kids, who were almost just as clueless as you.

Due to many unpleasant experiences, you began believing this town had nothing else in store for you other than remind you of the unforgettable truth, so you often refrained from going out when it was unneeded. Living alone had also slowly become bearable; either way, you had to learn how to because there was nobody else who would be able to guide you through life. There was no choice but to become independent at an early age.

After taking a warm shower and placing the unexpected rose in a vase, you decided to make yourself some chamomile tea. While waiting for the water to boil, your eyes spotted a rusty note that was messily folded, laying on the kitchen counter. It appeared almost crumpled, like it had been bunched up in a rush. You confusedly stared at it for a short moment, trying to remember whether there had been a note there last night when you cleaned the kitchen isle. A sudden whistle interrupted your puzzled thoughts just as you were about to open up the strange looking letter, bringing you out of your daze as the loud hiss reminded you the boiling, hot water was finally ready. Cursing under your breath, you quickly whipped around in a hurry to turn off the stove, forgetting about the wrinkled paper altogether.

The rest of your day went by unbothered, the night sky catching up quicker than you had presumed. Regardless, it didn’t faze you. Rather than upsetting you, it only caused a huge wave of excitement to travel along your body; you knew what the night meant. You let out a squeal that bounced off the walls as you observed through the window the dark sky that had engulfed the whole town, decorated by the bright moon that had replaced the yellow, warm sun. It was only seven at night when you read the time on the digital clock hung on the thorough, wooden walls. You hurried off to your room, where you quickly readied yourself for sleep.

Not long after, you found yourself barefooted in the same place as always, although this time autumn season had began. Unlike reality, time worked distinctly in your dreams. When it was nighttime in the real world, it was daytime in your thoughts. Yet, you couldn’t understand why the season suddenly changed, you weren’t quite sure this had happened before. Right in front of your eyes, the oak tree you were so used to see standing gracefully with flowing, vibrant leaves, was slowly becoming leafless while the few ones that did manage to stick to the branches jumped between different, several warm and golden tones. The grasslands that were once a blanket of only verdant green with the occasional colorful flowers that would stand out, was now an ocean of faded orange mixed with a faint tint of pinkish red. Underneath the oak tree sat him, but this time he was not dressed in the same white suit from always; he was wearing casual clothes, and his typical perfectly brushed hair was left down and fluffy, covering most of his forehead.

White denim jeans paired with a white denim jacket, and a loose light, grey t-shirt tucked carelessly inside his pants; he seemed to already know what you were wondering, and answered your question before you even got the chance to take a seat on the dried autumn grass. “Everything is different because something important is nearing. No,” he giggled when he noticed you lean forward with a new question ready to be asked, “I can’t tell you what the special occasion is. Chill, you’ll find out in no time.”

Whining, you slightly sulked with an annoyed look plastered on your face, “I’m tired of all these weird clues.”

“Don’t worry, the answers are closer than you think. Quit sulking, drama queen.” He grinned warmly. The scenery appeared ridiculous when compared to his radiant smile, it was a battle he’d win right away effortlessly. A sudden breeze passed by, offering a pleasant warmth that felt sensational as the air slowly became cooler every time the season developed more. Whenever you met up with him, you always had new things to interrogate him for, but just recently your inquiries had gotten much bigger as you found yourself in stranger situations leading towards him. You turned to glance at him, despite his side profile being the only sight you could get from your current view, you knew he still looked unreal as ever. “I noticed you kept the rose.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “how do you know?”

“Can’t answer that either.” He shrugged with a cheeky grin, exhaling with calmness as he rested on his elbows, basking in the warm, soft breezes that blew by every now and then. His chestnut brown hair moved fluidly along with the infrequent winds too, letting his forehead show up for a split second. You thought he seemed so peaceful like this. Truthfully, he always looked peaceful, but today his features were particularly serene as they emitted a feeling of tranquility, even you felt it. He hummed, opening his eyes for a short moment before closing them again, “you forgot to read the note. I’ll get rid of that one and send a new one when you wake up. Make sure to read it, no excuses.”

A small huff of disbelief escaped your lips, as they soon turned into a smile. “Are you sure you’re not a witch? You were the one who put the rose on the bed, right? Because how else would that magically be there? Please answer me before I go insane.” You massaged your temples gently to simmer down all the jumbled emotions that had fallen upon you. “I thought you were just part of my imagination, but I’m doubting that now. Oh my God, what are you? There’s literally no way I can bring a flower out of my dreams-”

“Just part of your imagination, what am I? An imaginary friend? Sorry,” he laughed, “I’m not that. Yeah, I was the one who placed the rose next to you; but no, I won’t answer how.” You could tell he was having fun watching you experience an existential crisis in the middle of your dreams, it entertained him more than he would like to admit. “Today you seem very curious, that’s no good. So, we will be parting ways sooner than we usually do.”

“Wait, no, what-”

With only the snap of his fingers, it was nighttime, like a light switch had been flicked and suddenly the brightness was turned off. Due to the fast approaching winter lurking just around the corner, it was freezing cold, the temperatures so low you stared at the unfazed boy like he was crazy. You immediately began shivering, and he calmly took the time to place his denim jacket over your trembling shoulders. Honestly, the piece of clothing didn’t really provide you with much cover, but the warmth of his body that had stuck to it was enough to decrease the clattering of your teeth and the goosebumps that had formed on your arm the moment the temperatures abruptly dropped. “You can take that with you. For now, we have to go. Goodbye lovely, we’ll see each other soon.”

Your body shot up on bed in shock, anxiously feeling around your shoulders where indeed, a jacket comfortably rested on. His jacket. You felt like crying from all the utter confusion, so many questions swirling in your head that you wanted to desperately ask. Breathing irregular, you stood up with a slight stumble as you made your way towards the bathroom with a failing vision until you were able to grip the small counter, your reflection showing back on the flimsy mirror. There was no tone to your skin, which was accompanied by a light dampness; your throat felt like it was stinging and your nose was extremely runny. Was this a cold? A sharp pain hit at your temples before a grunt left your lips, demanding you to get some rest. Using all the strength you could muster, you went back to bed, falling weakly on the soft mattress.

“You fucker, now I’m sick.” You gritted through you teeth with irritation. As if on cue to your words, another crumpled ball of paper flew onto your forehead, gently bouncing off and onto the bedsheets. You cursed again, rolling your eyes before opening up the letter. It looked old, the delicate paper was covered in several creases and ink stains that were smeared all over the page; inside, was the messiest handwriting you had ever seen before. Squinting, you tried your best to make out the tangled words that were scribbled down.

Before I even start; you got to stop cursing young woman. The Heavens are watching and won’t be happy at you. Now, off to the actual letter. You must still remember your grandmother telling you about it, this was the note she was talking to you about. How are you? I hope you’re dealing alright with that nasty cold, honest, I knew you’d catch one after that weather. It’s alright though, it won’t last longer than three days, enough for you to spend your awaiting birthday without any bothersome sicknesses. How does it feel to be turning eighteen years old in four days time? Maybe you didn’t believe me, or maybe you did, but I’m still keeping promise to my words, and I assure you; your eighteenth birthday won’t be spent alone, neither will be your other birthdays to come. You’ve come so far in life, you have battled so much and yet you’re still overflowing with strength. You definitely deserve answers to all the questions you’ve often wondered about.

Remember all those fairy tales you would hear all the time from your grandparents? The ones you loved so, so much? Many of them were really only that; tales and nothing more, just something to keep you entertained, except for one. No, soulmates are not a lie, or merely another created narration from your lovely storytellers, they’re a real thing. You’ll meet your soulmate soon, I promise. I could tell you who it is, but I’d rather wait and watch you find it out yourself. For the meanwhile, you can look at your wrist the day you turn eighteen, you’ll notice some words engraved on it. They’re meant to be your soulmate’s first words ever said to you; in person, so the flesh and bones. I feel like I gotta make that clear because you’re so dense. When you do finally meet them, the words will fade away. Overall, you’re going to get a gut feeling when you meet the right person, you won’t even need to check your wrist to know. Everybody is destined to meet their soulmate sooner or later, you would know about it more if you ever left the house, lazy. Since you don’t, you’re not really aware of how many people out there have already found their fated lover. Even your folks were destined soulmates. Everybody is.

You certainly are curious. No, don’t be scared, stop thinking I’m a witch, I’m not. Yes, I can read your thoughts and I can feel your emotions. Yeah, even though I wrote this way before you read it. I can already decipher them from days, hours, minutes and seconds before. What’s up, I hereby officially present myself to you as your Guardian Angel. Just as one gets assigned a soulmate, they can also get assigned a Guardian Angel, way before they’re even born; life is weird. Truth be told, your family already knew me. This is why your grandmother asked you to wait for the letter, otherwise she knew your stubborn self wouldn’t have budged. Someone like me can only do much, I don’t really form a part of what The Heavens decide; therefore, I wasn’t aware that you were involved in a car crash along with your parents. As your Guardian Angel, I can only save the one assigned to me, that being you. And, as far as decisions go, it had also already been determined by The Heavens they would be taking your parent’s lives early. I don’t know why, but they must have their own reasons. One thing I can assure you though, is that their last breath was peaceful. All they wanted was for you to be fine, and they knew you’d be.

No one from your family had a Guardian Angel for themselves because it’s actually a rare thing to get one assigned. You were part of the small percent who did attain one. I’m not just a creation from the depths of your dreams, but it was the only place through which I could communicate with you for the meantime. Our situation though... it’s a little complex, or different, but very special since it barely ever happens. Little to no chances, I mean. Again, I’ll leave that for you to figure out. Look out for my visit on the 28th, your birthday. Once you turn eighteen, I’m allowed to see you. Not in your dreams, or thoughts or imagination, just reality. See, right? I promised you. You won’t be spending your birthday alone anymore, and I never break my promises.

I also want you to know, your parents and grandparents; they’re fine, they’re resting well. I really am sorry that I was not able to do anything to save your parents, trust me, if I could have, I would’ve. Thank you, for always thinking so fondly of me and calling me your hero when you were young, even though you didn’t even know what I was. I’m glad you looked up to me. Don’t worry, and don’t cry, remember I can feel when you’re unhappy; I can already tell as I’m writing this letter that you are in tears. Don’t be, I know you frequently worry about your family, if they left happy or sad; or, if they left in peace or not. They’re totally happy in The Heavens, where nobody suffers. You don’t have to be concerned over them anymore, they’re in peace and their wish is for you to be too.

Yes, silly, Guardian Angels can age. Mine was just frozen at twenty until I meet you. I still have a lot of explaining to do but you have to figure out the important part first.

I hope this letter answered all your big questions, it seems like it did. I apologize again, that I couldn’t save your parents. But, do believe me, they’re all fine. Stop crying, it makes me sad too. I can’t wait to finally meet you, I’ve been already waiting more than eighteen years. Anyways, I’ll be ending this here, lovely. I know your grandma said it was only a note but this got longer than I had planned, oops. See you soon,

Na Jaemin, your Guardian Angel.

Your hands shook as the crippled letter fell from your trembling grip, tears running down your face uncontrollably. You wouldn’t say your cries were of anguish, but rather, peacefulness. Peace because now you finally knew your parents were fine, and peace within yourself after that discovery. It was a question you initially thought was impossible to get an answer for. For the longest time, you had felt guilty you were given a second chance while they were not; but, although you still firmly believed they were taken unfairly from you, at least you knew they were okay. Words were not enough to express how you currently felt. So, the world that you thought to be so ugly and malicious actually had things such as soulmates and Guardian Angels? You always doubted they existed, much less were you able to process you were gifted with the two. It never crossed your mind that the boy in your dreams, Na Jaemin, was the reason why you were even alive.

You always told yourself the world had so much to make up for after taking away your loved ones. Little did you know you had been meeting with the most important person in your life for the entirety of it. Suddenly, it was you who had to make up for so much. The question was, how would you do something greater than what Na Jaemin did for you? He was after all, your literal savior.

And you’d be meeting him soon.

November 28th finally arrived, your cold long gone as the time hit twelve o’clock at midnight. Anxiously, you looked down, and time felt like it had slowed. Although the seconds kept counting down just fine, you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your veins as you watched black, cursive words gradually show up on your wrist. ‘Hello, lovely.’ You exhaled with a shaky breath, gliding your finger over the words swiftly; they looked like they had been tattooed on your wrist for a long time now despite their recent appearance. Astonished, you cursed before glancing around your bedroom, unsure of what to do and completely ignoring the angel’s previous scolding for your bad habit of swearing. It all seemed unreal to you, but the constant burn of the pinching you inflicted upon yourself assured you it wasn’t. Your heart rate was beating at rapid speeds, and you began wondering if it would eventually thump out of your chest to escape from all the unstoppable adrenaline rushing chaotically through your entire body.

“Alright, calm down, fuck.” The angel could only watch you in amusement from afar, shaking his head at your raw language.

The midnight winds were tremendously cool as the winter temperatures continued to drop, the heater or the cosy clothing you currently wore were not enough to fully rid you of the icy atmosphere. You wished you’d meet the angel in your dreams, so you could be welcomed by a warm and sultry weather. Unfortunately, you had not gotten to see him after the day you read the long, messy letter he wrote. It was weird to not have the daily visions you had grown so accustomed to.

Somewhere during the very early hours of the morning, you managed to drift off into a deep sleep, unable to meet the angel once again. You woke up to a much more pleasant climate air, and you would’ve been happy about it if it weren’t for the many doubts you awoke with. It had been four days since you had last seen him. The usual scenery you always magically appeared in with the help of your brain didn’t develop in the deepness of your thoughts; you didn’t care about your birthday anymore, you cared for the boy from your dreams. You still had to learn to call him by his actual name, but it was harder than you expected when he had basically been nameless for most of your life. Na Jaemin, you had never heard that name around your town or anywhere else, it was just as unique as him.

“I heard you calling?”

You shrieked, tumbling off the bed and onto the hardwood floor as your chest heaved up and down in fear. Quickly, you stood up on your feet, where you locked wide eyes with the charming smile you always admired, a grin beaming with pearly whites showing through that could light up the whole world. There he stood gracefully, unlike you, wearing the same attire he had been sporting the last time you saw him; of course, minus the denim jacket you occasionally hugged to sleep. Instead of the same brown hair he always had, it was now a light shade of blonde, to the point where it nearly looked silver. Eyes still widened in alarm after his unexpected arrival, you carried on taking in his features and tall figure; lean and majestic, exactly as you had described him the first time. He was absolute breathtaking, and his beauty only seemed more glorious face to face; you were utterly speechless.

An almost quiet giggle went past his lips, a smile still adorning his features as he carefully approached you upon noticing your frozen state. There was a slight glow that outlined his physique, similar to the one you always caught sight of as a child, but not as strong. With gentle movements, his hand softly came up to cup your cheek, tenderly caressing at the skin before pulling you into a warm embrace. You gasped, his swift actions successfully bringing you out of your daze; and ultimately, with shaky hands, you wrapped your arms around his torso tightly as well. He hummed lowly in satisfaction at the feeling of your returned hug, already loving how it felt to finally be held by you.

Hugging him felt oddly nice to you, there was an emotion inside that you couldn’t quite describe, but you knew for sure it was a feeling you had never experienced before. You felt free and no longer alone, like you had known him your entire life; not just because of the dreams where the two of you conversed, it was a feeling more personal than that, like he had always been there with you. Not all your senses worked in your nightly thoughts, and only now were you able to bask in the sweet smell that engulfed him; he smelled like home. Like the tall, grassy grounds he was always sitting on under the same familiar oak tree as he waited for you. Like the roses and tulips that were fully bloomed in all their grandeur by summer time, and like the warm sunrays that never failed to make his skin naturally glow with dewiness. You had never smelled anything in your dreams, because it simply was impossible, but you didn’t have to; you knew right away he was the epitome of the place where you always met up, in all the five senses. The enthralling landscape, the soothing sounds of nature, the sweet taste of honeysuckles, the feeling of the flowing grasses, the earthy scent of threes and flowers; all put together into a human body.

Not only did he feel like home, but his embrace also provided a sensation of comfort and safety that nobody else could emulate. Your heart was beating rapidly, but this time it wasn’t out of shock, it was nervousness. You felt like you had made the biggest discovery ever, yet you were not sure what the find was. Still, everything somehow felt right amidst the thundering thump of your chest that rang loudly in your ears.

“Hello, lovely.” He whispered in your ear, feeling the smile on his face as his lips gently pressed against the side of your head.

Overcome with emotion, a tear ran down your cheek before slightly pulling away so you could properly look up at him. “Thank you, for saving me. Thank you so much... Jaemin. How will I ever repay you?”

“Silly,” he simply chuckled, “you don’t have to repay me with anything, meeting you is enough.”

You nodded as he ran his fingers through your hair, confessing, “I feel very comfortable around you, even though I just met you. Well, in person, I’m still confused.”

“It’s totally normal,” Jaemin replied as he pulled away from his tight embrace, softly patting your back, “technically, I’ve always been here, you just couldn’t see me. Reminds me; happy birthday, lovely.”

Heart fluttering at his words, you began feeling all giddy and fluffy inside despite not understanding the reason why. You could not fathom why he was having such a huge impact on you already. “I have a question.”

“Not surprised.”

“Do you, perhaps, have any wings or a halo?”

Jaemin giggles in amusement at your question, shaking his head. “I don’t, but I used to. We only have wings and halos when we’re in The Heavens, not on Earth. I’m meant to form part of Earth from now on, so I can’t really show you, except for the glow around my body. That, I choose whether I want you to see it or not.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “Yeah, I’m still a Guardian Angel, your Guardian Angel specifically.”

Your cheeks flushed a faint tint of pink, muttering as you looked down at your feet, “stop reading my thoughts.”

“What? Are you scared I’m going to hear something naughty or weird one day? Don’t worry, I’ve heard plenty of those. Also heard multiple times you think I’m god-worthy handsome. Thanks, by the way. Its okay, it’s normal for me now. Just keep your thoughts in check, where did you learn all those dirty things, young lady?”

“Jaemin!” You screeched in embarrassment, your cheeks only becoming redder than they previously were, his grip tightening around you lovingly.

The boy shook with laughter, a melodious sound to your ears that you wanted to keep hearing for the rest of your life, and if it weren’t for the awful embarrassment you were experiencing, you would’ve surely relished in the contagious cackles more. Being with Jaemin was natural, it didn’t feel awkward at all, you instantly knew you could trust him with anything; besides, meeting him in your dreams for the past fifteen years was enough time to warm up to him.

“Come on,” you grabbed his hand, letting go not long after when a jolt shot through your arm. “What the hell! What was that?”

“You better stop cursing around me,” Jaemin jokingly warned, narrowing his eyes at you, “you have to find that out for yourself. I never thought you’d be this clueless, to be honest.”

“And lastly, this is the basement; tour is finally done! This used to be my grandparent’s house from mom’s side, where I spent my whole childhood in. My dad’s parents lived a little farther away and their house wasn’t roomy enough to take me, but they still visited here constantly; it felt like they all lived together, honestly.” You explained to the tall boy. You had decided to show him around, still rocking your hideous pajamas, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Jaemin hummed as he listened to you, eyes skimming over the wide, empty room; of course, he already knew every single part of your house like the back of his hand. He had been watching you your entire life, chances are he even recognized it better than you. Though, as he gazed at you with loving eyes, you seemed too excited showing him around so much that he chose to remain quiet and carry on pretending he was unfamiliar with everything surrounding him.

Your grandparent’s house was extremely welcoming; as most houses in your town, this was also built solely out of pure wood. It wasn’t exactly a cabin, but rather a small suburban home. Everything inside consisted of mostly vintage items left behind by your folks, the only modern objects around being the ones they had bought for you. As for the backyard, it wasn’t really spacious, but it was well appreciated and cared for since majority of the homes in the town didn’t have one. Your grandmother was always making sure her garden looked appealing at all times; and in memory of her, you would regularly keep it neat in spite of your hatred for gross bugs and itchy plants.

“I used to always come down here when I wanted to play with old stuff, like landline phones or typewriter machines, I thought they were quite fun.” You smiled automatically at the fond memories. “Oh! I also remember accidentally catching Grandpa and Grandma kissing, it was disgusting.”

Jaemin laughed, recalling the time you found your grandparents being way too romantic for your young mind to comprehend, and your startled eyes before running off as soon as you had identified the scene in front.

You sat down on the dusty wooden floors that were in strong needs of some good polishing and sweeping as you called Jaemin over. Complying, he took a seat next to you, creating a feeling of familiarity just like you would usually sit together in your dreams; except this time, the two of you were in a basement desperately screaming for a deep clean. You were certain his white clothes would be totally dirty by the time you left the room. “I forgot to tell you, you were right about the whole soulmate words thing.”

“Did you think it was a lie?” He cocked an eyebrow, paired with a sly smirk.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” You waved your hands in the air fearing he had gotten the wrong idea.

Giggling, he nodded and brought your hands down gently, “I know what you mean. Tell me about it.” He might’ve been a holy being, but he had never experienced love for endless decades. Now that he finally found you, he couldn’t stop the crazy thumping of his heart.

“Okay so, I stayed awake until midnight yesterday - well, today, actually... anyways - besides the point.” Jaemin smiled adoringly at your cute stutters and fumbled ranting. He had learnt years ago that you stumbled over your own words when you were ecstatic about something. Hearing your thoughts in the distance was nearly impossible when he was so close to you, and it was inevitable to catch what your mind was currently thinking. You were talking, but your mind kept saying he looked ethereal right now next to you, going as far as comparing him to the most prepossessing events from Earth itself and claiming he was still prettier. “So, as I was telling you, I stayed awake ‘till midnight and you were right! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I noticed small letters appear on my wrist out of the blue, it was freaky to see it firsthand. Do you want to see?”

A cocky smirk was threatening to show up on Jaemin’s lips sooner or later, whether it be for your thoughts about him or what you were about to find out; yet, he fought the feeling and simply agreed at your request. It felt like euphoria was devouring him whole, but outside, he maintained a serene stance when you raised your wrist up to his eyes. As expected by him but not by you, the words were no longer there. A piercing shriek that hurt his ears left you upon realizing your wrist was not marked with the cursive letters anymore. Jaemin could only internally crack up at the sight of you scrambling away in panic, rushing towards the small window on the wall to get a better look of your arm with the aid of the sunrays. There was, in fact, nothing there.

The angel pondered playfully, humming specially loud so you’d be able to catch the mischief in his tone, “I thought you wanted to show me something? I don’t see anything there.”

Eyes wide like they were about to jump out of their sockets, you turned to look at him with a frightened expression, whining. “What do you know that I don’t?”

With a grunt, Jaemin got up from the floor as he brushed off the dust on his clothes, rolling his eyes at your question. “Silly girl,” he approached, your feet moving backwards the closer he got, eventually stopping when your back hit the wall behind you, “you’re so bad at this game.” He smiled cheekily before flicking your forehead.

“Ow!”

“Lovely, what did I explain it meant when the words faded away? Do you remember what I first said when I arrived?”

Oh. You realized what the current situation was. Jaemin was your fated soulmate, and as always, you did not notice because you were distracted; unsurprisingly, distracted by him. “But you’re not exactly human? How is it possible?”

He shrugged, running a hand through your hair, “Heaven and God are complicated. Angels can have human soulmates if that’s how The Heavens decide it, the only benefit you get, is you get to know when you’ll meet them - unlike humans who have no idea if they’re even gonna be fated to somebody or they’ll leave the world tragically because of their wrongdoings. The downside is that angels can take thousands and thousands of years to meet their soulmate; I was lucky to only have to wait three hundred.”

“Three hundred years!? But how come you’re twenty years old, how did you become an angel? Does me feeling all happy and sappy around you have to do with all this?” You were freaking out, but you didn’t want him to misunderstand.

Jaemin nodded, pulling you down onto the floor with him again, “there are two different types of angels; angels and Guardian Angels. Angels are people that died before their innocence was tainted which is basically all newborns or young children; teenagers and adults can too, just not as often. Guardian Angels are beings created by God himself, so unlike angels, we never existed in Earth first.” His hands were fiddling nervously with the end of his t-shirt, fingers adorned with a few silver rings. “We’re only allowed to meet our soulmate until they turn eighteen, so our age freezes at twenty while we wait. Angels can’t see their soulmate like I did in your dreams, but since I’m your Guardian Angel, I’m required to watch and care for you at all times. So, it’s acceptable to reveal myself to you discretely. And yeah,” he sheepishly giggled, “that’s why you feel all happy and sappy around me. I do too.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I guess. Someone dumb like me can only handle so much information, Jaemin.”

He snickered. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You pushed him away playfully, a small smile lingering on your lips before a blush took over your features. You never had a boyfriend previously, and you had no idea what to do from now on. Jaemin looked lovely as ever, the attraction you had for him only heightening as the bond became stronger. His once fully white clothes were now slightly covered in dust, as so was his face. Despite that and his tinted cheeks that you assumed were like that because he intruded your thoughts once again, he was the same handsome boy from your dreams that never failed to make you smile. Now, he’d be by your side for more than your usual six hours of sleep, and you were thrilled, to say the least. Meeting him for real got your heart rushing and doing flips, you didn’t know what that initially meant; but now you were sure it had to be love. It felt strange to feel something as deep as love for someone you met minutes ago. Then again, Jaemin was more than a soulmate; he had basically been with you the entirety of your life, your love went higher than a mere soulmate bond. “So, what do we do now?”

Rosy cheeks, the angel was still not able to look at you after listening to your thoughts. He knew he had to stop doing that, but it wasn’t easy when they sounded so loud and tempting in his ears. “Can I kiss you? I’ve really wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you.”

A series of wild coughs took over you upon hearing Jaemin’s confession, your reaction only making him feel giddier than he already was. “I - sorry,” the attack in your throat gradually slowed down, “I’m just, Ive never had my first kiss before, I’m new to all of this.”

He scurried closer with cheeky eyes, the darkening daylight that managed to show through the tiny window in the room signaled that the sun was beginning to set, the basement now drowned in a vibrant, saturated mandarin shade. Your breath hitched instantly when he cupped your cheeks, his eyes fully sparkling with love and adoration for you, gaze traveling down your features until it landed on your lips. He wet his own unknowingly, slightly parting them as light, irregular puffs of breathes left him. Jaemin leaned in, closing the short gap that was once between the two of you until the same jolt of electricity from before warmly hit you.

His lips tasted sugary sweet, like he had been previously sucking at the nectar from the honeysuckles you loved to have in your dreams. Now, you were certain that there was indeed something sweeter than honesuckles. Not only did he taste sweet, he felt sweet too. His mouth moved against yours slowly, the rhythm at which you two kissed was a little bit sloppy, but neither of you cared about it; hands still gently holding your cheeks while your own found their preferred location, lightly grabbing at his shoulders. Jaemin pulled back, chest heaving with pants as he attempted to catch his breath, leaning in again after whispering lowly against your lips.

“Hadn’t had my first kiss either.”

“Na Jaemin, you’re supposed to be an angel from Heaven!”

The boy ignored your protests, keeping you trapped between his body and the wooden wall as he continued a fiery assault on your neck, lips trailing all the way down to your collarbones where he mercilessly sucked hard reds and purples at the delicate skin.

Months had quickly gone by after finding out the angel was your fated special someone, and time flew peacefully as your feelings for each other grew more and more at rapid lengths, if it was even possible to be any more infatuated than you already were. A lot of remarkable things had happened once Jaemin officially stepped into your life; you weren’t low-spirited anymore like you used to be, coming to terms with yourself that Jaemin was happiness itself, it was impossible to remain miserable with someone as bright as him around. Although your biggest dream had always been to visit the wonderful cities that you knew awaited outside your small town, you decided to stay here; often reminding you of the views you’d always encounter in your imagination whenever you met up with the angel, instead of your parents like you used to believe.

Christmas was the best holiday you had spent, drowning in all the love Jaemin cherished you with while his arms held you tightly to his body as you both cuddled in front of the warm fireplace, under large, fluffy blankets. Or, the softness of his lips that pressed against yours in utter passion after he had shamelessly placed random mistletoes all around the house as an excuse to kiss you all throughout winter. It was little things like that, that made you fall deeper for him. Spring was slowly coming to an end as summer prepared to engulf everybody in the heat of its shining sun and the hot temperatures that gradually became warmer every day. You couldn’t wait for the orangey sunsets that were soon to come so you could take Jaemin out to the small shops located along the river, accompanied by the relaxing sounds of the streaming fresh waters and forgotten 70’s songs that the old ladies from the stores never failed to play.

With time, you found out Jaemin was tremendously clingy and overwhelmingly sappy. For a while, he seemed absolutely pure, the tittle well deserved since he did belong to the vast heavens that he described as divinely glorious. You believed him, for his looks and personality where the exact same. Though, your perception of innocence that you had for him might’ve gone overboard, because even a harmless angel like him could sometimes overflow with a burning fire of love and want.

“Are you even allowed to do things like this?” You whined under his towering frame, refusing to let out any sounds of satisfaction. He was supposed to be a holy and saint being, yet here he was, licking and biting at your skin with no remorse. No matter how hard you tried to keep quiet, the shocks of pleasure that his naughty kisses sent throughout you entire body were inevitable and tough to neglect, when the feeling was so exquisite.

He was panting with need, wasting no time in taking off both your shirts as his hands instantly began roaming around your unconvered, warm skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him, “it’s fine.” His hands slowly moved up towards your flushed face, taking their own sweet time to run over your tummy and all the way up to your chest, which received special extra attention, until he eventually reached your cheeks and brought you into a rough kiss. Jaemin’s lips devoured you like there was no tomorrow, like he was a starved man, occasionally biting gingerly at your lower lip before lightly swiping his tongue across, engaging the wet muscles in a battle he would surely win. “Please, touch me.”

You pulled away shortly with ragged breaths, lips a cherry red and fully swollen from all the endless sucking he had inflicted on them. “Na Jaemin, are you sure this is right? I’ve never done anything dirty yet I swear I feel like I’m corrupting you so bad-”

“Stop swearing, it’s wrong.”

Jaw dropped in disbelief, you glanced up at the shirtless boy who still had you pressed against the wall with no way out, “I - you’re saying that while trying to get into my pants! I’m pretty sure swearing is the least of concerns here.”

“I’m not the one who’s thinking about sex all the time, you expect me to go through my day calmly when you’re thinking such naughty stuff?” Jaemin whined with a pout, running his fingers through his blonde locks in frustration before unexpectedly picking your flustered self up. He hurriedly carried you towards the bedroom, ignoring your loud screams demanding to put you down as he gently threw your body onto the soft mattress. “I’m literally a teenage boy, I have needs and your thoughts don’t help,” he kept complaining, “this is totally normal, it’s fine as long as it is with your soulmate, I promise. Now, please, woman.” The angel proceeded to leave a trail of feathery, wet kisses down your neck again, eyes landing on your bra straps before they locked with your gaze and wordlessly asked for permission.

Nodding slowly, you pulled Jaemin down and locked lips once again; though, this time it felt like all your unsaid emotions were pouring out into the desperate kiss, love being the biggest one swimming in the pools of several, different sentiments. He returned the kiss delicately as your hands slightly tugged at the little hairs that rested on the back of his neck, eliciting tiny moans and groans that rumbled in his hard chest. Breaths of pleasure that you swallowed escaped his mouth, the kiss progressively becoming messier and harsher as you allowed yourselves to get lost in the euphoric feeling of your bodies pressed close together, the warmth the radiated from your bare skin igniting a huge fire of arousal within the two of you.

“I love you. So much.” Jaemin pecked your lips one last time with a sincere smile, hands gliding over your shoulder blades as they unclasped your bra, gently sliding off the straps with eyes that twinkled with nothing but absolute love, lust and devotion. “I’m gonna take you higher than Heaven.”

“Jaemin! Don’t be rude!” Right then and there, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be; in the arms of your lover as he showed you a deeper intimacy than you had ever shared before. Despite all you had gone through, life gifted you with the greatest present, Na Jaemin. You didn’t have to dream anymore to feel at home, he brought it with himself.

A celestial angel, indeed. Life was no longer unbearable for you, it was the best thing ever; and you were ready to live it at its fullest.

[new2otomelol]

Maid to the Rescue - A KBTBB Fanfic - Part 4

Hey guys! Here’s my update. Thanks to those that read this! Love you all. Sorry it isn’t that great. Voltage owns the rights to KBTBB, I’m just writing a fanfic :-)

"What the heck kid, where ya been?!" Mamoru continues the line of questioning. So far, I have not been able to get a word in. The atmosphere in the vehicle is palpable and electric. I know the decision I made a year ago would affect others around me, but I honestly did not know what to expect. "Guys, please, slow down. I know and I apologize for not..."

"I mean, princess, you're like a badass all of the sudden! Baba interrupts. I slow down the vehicle as we near our location and enter a covered garage. "Guys, please, I will explain, but I need you to quickly put on the jackets, coats and hats that are in the back of the trunk. Come on, follow me."

The men do as told, but their expressions give away their state of confusion and unease. I hold on to the roof of the car and help propel myself to the trunk. Eisuke quickly comes around from the passenger side and helps me walk to the back. "Thank you..." I try to tell him, but notice he can't seem to stare me in the face.

I remove my arm from Eisuke and open the trunk. "Alright men, each bundle has a name on it, please put on your clothing. We will be walking to the bar where you will meet people from my team and we will go our separate ways to the same location. Mamo and Ota, you will ride with Net. Soryu and Baba, you will ride with Lucy. Eisuke, you will ride with me."

"Just who are these people, Lisa?" Eisuke asks me, I could hear the frustration in his voice. I know he's hurt and wants to know more, but I hope he can understand me better soon. "These are people that helped me tremendously through a tough time in life. They have assisted me in coordinating this operation to rescue you guys, so please, trust me in this."

"I know, but the bullet missed a major artery. It's just a matter of removing it and stitching the wound. I need to clean my leg a bit and we can go. Can you help by supporting me?" He grunts as if frustrated, but his eyes show nothing but concern and a bit of sadness. I proceed to clean the wound with some wipes left in the car, Nix is a gem for thinking of everything.

I turn around and proceed to remove my jacket, bullet proof vest and long sleeve shirt. I begin to pull and tug at my black dress that was hidden underneath all my protective clothing. I unbuckle my belt as well as Eisuke's belt from my leg and remove the pants. "Ngh... ouch, ouch, ouch..." as a bit of the burning sensation is felt on the leg, but the blood has slowed, thanks to the bullet still being imbedded. "What the heck do you think you're doing?" Eisuke rushes to my side, quickly helps pull my dress down and checks my leg. "That looks bad."

"I don't think you should be walking." Eisuke continues with his concern for me. "Yeah kid, ya don't look good." Mamo follows suit. "So what now?" Soryu asks. I manage to finish clearing the blood from my leg and step into my stilettos. Eisuke hovers near me to ensure I don't fall.

"Guys, this is not the first time I've been shot, I'll be fine. Now, let's go..." I tried to explain more; however, I shouldn't have mentioned my previous experience as Eisuke got angrier and scoffed. He takes my arm a bit more harshly and places it around his shoulders. "I should carry you." He says. "No, it would be too suspicious. Let them think I'm drunk and that you're helping me walk."

It takes a few minutes to arrive to our location as we parked near the bar. The smell of smoke instantly reaches us as we open the door. There are some people at the bar tending to their drinks, others playing pool and some just conversing with their friends. Oldies play from a juke box in the corner combining with the loud noise coming from the activity. It is a small bar that can be considered a hole in the wall, but it is exactly what we need to remain unnoticed.

The guys don't seem too impressed, but then again, they may also just be tired and hurt. "What is this dump?" Ota says. Never mind, they're not impressed.

"It's the dump where you meet us and leave safely." A short, blond-haired and curvylicious Lucy states as she approaches us. "Hi guys, I'm your date for tonight." She winks at Soryu and Baba. She struts her stuff in her form-fitting black dress and interlocks her arms with the men. "Go along with it guys, just pretend I'm your conquest and that you're driving me home, try to sell it though, think 'managetrois." She whispers. Luckily, the guys nod and move quickly with her, Baba takes her cue as she hugs both of them by the waist and he leans into her neck and kisses her ear. Lucy giggles away as they disappear by the exit.

"That leaves you and me Eisuke. Like I said, I'll pretend to be drunk and you're taking me home. Our car is parked to the side of the bar." He takes my arm once again and places it around his shoulders. We walk out of the bar as the cold night air greets us once again.

From the bar, a young, red-headed man turns from his seat and approaches us, "Alright losers. I'm your exit!" Net says to Ota and Mamoru. "Just pretend that you've had a shitty night and we're all buddies heading out." Mamo and Ota look annoyed, but go with it anyways, no other choice.

I giggle and swagger during our walk as he keeps his head down and out of sight. We get to a small red car and get in. I take out my phone and place it on the dash as I activate my GPS. "Here's the coordinates. Go ahead and drive the speed limit to the location. Keep your head covered with the hat."

"Why the secrecy, Lisa?" I sigh and take a deep breath. Time to tell him all of the truth. "Your enemy is the prime minister." Eisuke's hands tighten around the wheel, his knuckles almost turning white. "Why?" He manages to grunt out.

"A few years ago, when the auctions started, you had a tryst with a business woman. Turns out, she was one of his lovers, and boy did he love her. He was infuriated with you and so hurt by her that he sold her to an organization called AID to try and cover up their tryst. Mamoru had been involved in the investigation and he got too close to comfort. Should people discover the connection to AID and all the money he's received from them, it would be catastrophic. Ryuun also had ties to the prime minister and wanted assistance to get the Dragons back. The prime minister didn't mind, he wants more power, that means Soryu would have to be removed from the picture."

Eisuke exhales and clears his throat. "Okay, I get it. But why all this running around?" I shake my head and try to get the dizziness to stop. I really need to take care of this wound soon. "Because he has access to all of Tokyo, cameras, media, you name it. The helicopter captured footage of us being chased and we were able to hack and download the file before it was erased by the prime minister's team. We also don't want him to trace you and the guys until we get all this stuff together and expose the bastard, so we have to erase your tracks as best as possible, hence all this running around. Where we are headed to, you will be safe for a couple of days."

Eisuke looks frustrated, but pensive as he takes all of the information in. "There are also connections to Nishina, Ozaki as well as the fact that Baba has stolen a few items and he just really doesn't like Ota. He refers to you guys as the rat pack and hates that you're gaining ground worldwide with your businesses. He's hired many to go after you, the masked man being the most loyal. My group as been investigating the prime minister for a while now. He has also ruined the life of the young man you met earlier due to his personal ties to him; not to mention the disappearance of his twin brother."

I feel so tired and just wish I could close my eyes. "HEY! Don't you dare! Stay with me Lisa! I just found you again, you're not leaving me!" I shake my head again to wake myself up and slap my cheeks a little. "I know, I know, sorry, I'm just tired. Eisuke, I'm really sorry for not having kept in contact with you all. I wasn't mad at you and didn't disappear for those reasons."

"I thought about that at first." Eisuke says. "But I found it strange that I couldn't find you, not even after a few days, then that turned into weeks and here we are... I thought you were kidnapped, or worse, killed, because of me!" the last line he states with a bit more anger to it.

"Listen, I never knew what we were to each other. One thing is for sure, I knew for certain, and still know, that I love you with all my heart. What I did wasn't to hurt you or anyone else." Eisuke slams his hand on the steering wheel. "Really? then why, WHY did you do it?" I wasn't expecting this much anger, but I have to let it all out, as calmly as possible.

"If you researched me, then you know about me, my family and how everything looks from the outside. A pretty family portrait on the surface with a disturbing story underneath. My mother was a caring person in the beginning, but slowly she changed. To sum it all up, Narcissistic Personality Disorder is a real thing and she has it. I was criticized on a daily basis, nothing was ever good enough for her. She pitted my father against me and the years of emotional/verbal abuse took their toll."

I take a deep breath as all these memories I had burried deep inside come to surface. "She started developing paranoia or schizophrenia, I can't remember which one, and it got worse. I grew up with the notion that I wasn't going to be worth getting to know, that no man would want me, as she put it. I was too stupid, simple, ugly, you name it." The car turns on to a different road and I close my eyes for a second.

"HEY! Stay with me, keep talking!" Eisuke wakes me from my haze and I continue. "When things happened at the Tres Spades, it had barely been a couple of months after I had left my house to be on my own. My father became her next target and I didn't have the strength to fight anymore. I later learned many things through friends and co-workers about these conditions and it helped me put it all into perspective... That day when you 'broke up' with me publicly, I decided to build the person I wanted to be. So I left in search of new things and found a friend who was able to teach me so much about everything, especially computers."

"LISA! You better fucking stay awake and complete that thought!" I come to again and begin to laugh. "All in all Eisuke, I love you and I hope you love me as well, even after a year, after I left. Please don't be mad at me, but I'm just sleepy, didn't get much sleep last niiight..." and with that, my world goes black.

"It took time, but I was able to rebuild my confidence, become stronger and forgive. I needed to let go of the anger, hurt and frustration from all those horrible years with her. I accepted the fact that I didn't really have a mother and that she would not change and just let it go and continue to pray for her safety and health. My father, unfortunately, was not able to make it after he got seriously ill and passed away a few months ago." I take a deep breath and lay back on my seat. "Eisuke, there hasn't been a day I don't think about you. I just wanted to be able to be at my best, filled with confidence and not rely on you for my happiness. I want to be your partner, your friend, your support..." I start to see black spots for a second.

[r-ahh-mi]

Homecoming

Warnings: Smut. 18+. Other than that, this is just a massive dose of fluff.

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Rami is left sifting his mind through an interview during a long press tour of the world that is drawing out far too long for his liking. After months of being away from any sort of familiarity, he begins to miss the very human being who makes him feel at home.

-

There was a small buzzing..or humming-like sound ringing through my ears. The humming was occasionally reaching new octaves and levels of intensity and calm, as if it was riding a very bumpy wave, but suddenly the hum was loud and staccato; repeating itself another two times before a small pinch of pain seared through my shoulder until the sound was no longer catching my attention. I winced, moving my hand in an instant to the warmth on my arm-only then did I recall just where I was and what I was doing and why I had been so rudely nudged by the person sat next to me.

Press tours were never my cup of tea. The first couple stops were fine because the questions were new and fresh and my responses were genuine and filled with real emotion, but after having to repeat a story three times, four times..ten times. It’s dull and my words begin to lose their value of genuine excitement and amusement that it once held. This interview was just like that.

The main cast, myself included, were nearing the end of our dreadfully long press tour that had wrapped itself around the globe, thus making the travel extensive and for long periods of time. And to be completely frank, I missed my bed, I missed my dog, but what, or should I say who I missed the most was my wife.

We’d never gone this long without seeing one another and I knew it was taking a tremendous toll on me and her both, though she was quick to hide it. I knew she wasn’t one to need me around every waking moment, but by the solemn tone of her voice everytime we said goodbye from our nightly phone or facetime call and whenever I told her about something amusing that happened in my day, her smile just wasn't the ‘grin and bear it’ one I was craving to be in the same room as and to smooth away with a kiss that lingered. It was small and slightly even sad, as if she wanted to badly be experiencing the same casual amusements I was seeing everyday.

I could feel myself falling back into my own head--the voices were blurring together again and the high pitched buzzing was seeping through my ears as I was beginning to be consumed with my thoughts again.

“Rami?”

Again, the pinching electrocuted a response out of me as I mumbled an ‘ow!’, and looked in the direction of the co star sat next to me who was looking at me with a less than friendly expression on their face.

I looked around the room and noted that everyone, and I mean everyone, was staring at me. Some looking annoyed, but most just looking expectant.

“Would you like me to repeat the question Mr. Malek?”

My eyes focused on the nicely dressed female as she looked at me nervously while I attempted to re-compose myself.

“Yes-s”, I stuttered, but was quick to get myself back on track. “Yes please.”

Though I didn’t really want her to. Lord knows she would only mutter out a question I’d already heard dozens of times and answered with less than the acceptable amount of enthusiasm.

“I asked if you were missing home at all; I’ve heard it’s much warmer in the states right now than it is here. I’d assume you’d be a bit home sick right now.”

To my surprise, this question was much much different from the others, in fact it’s the first time any member of the press seemed to show a glimmer of sympathy or interest in my personal well being as opposed to wanting further knowledge of this movie I was promoting. It took me a second to respond, though not too many ticking moments or else I feared I’d receive another twing from a rather bony elbow in my side.

“I do miss home, very much actually. Very excited to be in my home with my wife in the next couple days.”

The interviewers eyes seemed to light up, both with excitement of the prospects of a topic to talk about and something else that seemed to make a small smile turn up the corners of her mouth.

“I’m sure it can be tough being apart from your partner for that long. How do you cope with that?”

I shrugged, what we did was anything but coping or ‘getting by’. We made it work tremendously well and, for the most part, I have her to thank for that. She was quick to keep me grounded and even more quick to assure me that mentally I was still the down to earth boy she’d met twelve years ago who was just in the beginning stages of his career as an actor. She supported me then, she supports me now; there was never a push from her for me to do something different and I never pressured her to accept this lifestyle that I had thrown her in to, yet she did so with an overgrowing ease.

“It can be tough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’ve known each other for too long to let much get to us.”

“Surely there has to be some discourse in-”

I shook my head as my patience seemed to fly out the window much quicker than it usually did. Lack of sleep could’ve been the easy option, but what really seemed to get my ticking was this interviewer quickly shuffling from a sweet question to a comment that was seeking out drama and gossip--you know, things to actually assist them in selling their shitty writing.

“She’s great, truly she is,'' I interjected the woman’s long spiel. “Not everything is easy, but we are doing more than okay in our relationship and she’s the best person I can think of for me to share my life with.”

A couple of my co stars ‘awed’ dramatically as they patted my shoulder. I smiled in recognition, but couldn’t help but feel odd for doing the simple task that was loving and actually enjoying the person I chose to spend the rest of my life with.

“Do you have any children?”

“No”, I shook my head, “no children yet.”

“Yet?” The female interviewer quirked her eyebrow as I nibbled on my lip, holding in a smile that was threatening to spill all the way up to my cheeks.

“Yes, not quite yet.”

“So children are definitely on the table for you in the future?”

I nodded matter of factly as I thought back to the conversation me and her had prior to getting married--baby names, preferred genders, and possible nursery themes. We both saw eye to eye on nearly everything, although, the thing that was of utmost importance to me was having a healthy baby with this woman who, at that point in my life, I hadn’t even gotten the courage to ask to marry me just quite yet.

“Yeah, we absolutely want them in the future. Just waiting for everything to settle down a bit first.”

After that, the conversation seemed to shift to my co stars as the interviewer asked each of them some personal questions that weren’t much different to the ones she asked me. Of course, my busy, busy mind didn’t pay much attention once I knew that I had been asked the questions needed for this interview and I was happy that my mind was free to wander a bit more.

However, I wasn’t awarded the same freedom to think happy thoughts as I was just before the interviewer brought her attention to my personal life. Instead, now all I could think about was her and it was setting in just how god damn much I missed her. She was my partner, but most of all she was my best friend and no one enjoys being apart from their best friend for long. It’s as if a chunk of you is just missing or far away and I wanted nothing more than to cuddle it firmly against my chest and forget about the weighing lonesomeness I was feeling for her.

Eventually, the interview was over and I was free to go back to my hotel room and do as I pleased with the rest of my day. The rest of my castmates had settled on having a bit of an outing with it being our last day in an exotic location that the tour had taken us to and of course I was invited, but I just didn’t feel up to it. I would rather go back to my hotel room and bask in the sullen feelings and order some severely overpriced room service.

As soon as I slid my card into the slot and unlocked my hotel room door, I kicked the uncomfortable leather loafers to the side and reached for the phone set in my pocket as I began distracting myself with the email and text notifications displayed on my lock screen.

As I traveled to the bathroom, I found myself puzzled that I hadn’t heard from her, my wife, in quite some time. Usually she would send me a text whenever she woke up, but as I did the math in my head to compare our time differences, she would have woken up hours ago. I sent her a brief ‘love and miss you baby’ text and set my phone down on the counter as I stripped down to my briefs and shuffled my legs into some much comfier sweatpants.

I began to think about how I would spend the rest of my day; watching a movie or tv show, reading a book, because I never had time to read anymore, or maybe sleeping. Sleeping sounded like the most plausible option, seeing as I rarely got it these days, so I mentally prepared myself for the comfortable awaiting hotel sheets I would be swaddled on top of in just a moment.

But as soon as my eyes looked up and onto my bed, I nearly choked on the sharp and unexpected amount of air I had taken in. Such a reaction was bound to happen when one saw a human form lounging comfortably on their bed. Of course, the second I saw the figure the first thing I thought was to protect myself, but the moment I took in the familiar colored hair, skin, body type, and the faintest of smell, I felt anything but the opposite of crisis mode.

Instantly my shoulders slumped back down to their relaxed positions as I stared at her in disbelief. She smiled cockily—typical—as she watched me just stand there, owl eyed and ridden with shock, but the moment my mind and body seemed to process that my wife, of whom I hadn’t seen in months—god, so many fucking months—was laying on my hotel bed in a country that she was not meant to be in, I lunged for her instantly.

One could compare it to a linebackers tackle as I flung my arms around her, latched my legs to fit on top of hers, and snuggled into her side. She giggled briefly as she returned my fierce hug with just as much, if not more, power and for a couple minutes we just stayed latched on to one another.

I buried my face deep into her neck, smelling the floral accent from her favorite shampoo and id never craved a stereotypical feminine scent so much in my entire life until this very moment as I pressed a simple, sweet kiss to her neck. She giggled some more as her fingertips began to lightly trace up and down my arm and I couldn’t help myself any longer as I pulled my face up so I could have a better look at the face that I recently saw via my phone screen, but hadn’t seen or touched in person in months.

I took her in, making little notes of all the similarities and differences from the last time I saw that gorgeous face of hers, but even more than that, I loved being able to trace my thumb along her cheek again as I cupped the side of her face in my palm. She leaned Into my touch, the way she always had done, and brought her hand up to rest atop mine while her thumb rang along the mountains my knuckle bones created on my hands.

“How are you even here right now?”

Instantly, her lips twitched up into a large grin and I could only hope that she was pleased to hear the sound of my voice as I had been to hear her laugh again.

“I was able to get some time off of work and I didn’t feel like waiting a couple more days to see you.”

“So you just hopped on a plane without telling me?”

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes following the same kind of movement as her grin turned back into that sly, beautiful smirk. “Yep.”

Without hesitation I propped myself up on one elbow and moved my mouth to hers in a long, soothing kiss and it was almost like I was being teleported back to the very moment we first pressed our lips together. I relished in the taste of her mouth as our lips started working against one another until my body began to fall into rhythm as I rolled on top of her, letting my weight fall completely onto my arms which held me up above her form. The moment I felt her one hand fall on top of my back, that warmth shot through my body as if her fingertips had an electric current pulsing through them just waiting to zap me.

Though I wanted to take my time cherishing every moment and inch of her, I was also terribly filled with a lust that I hadn’t been able to fully quench in the last one hundred or so days. She was the only one who would be able to fulfill me in such a manor like that, I was positive, so I didn’t waste anytime removing her clothing from her until she was left in nothing but a pair of panties that seemed much too fancy to just be everyday underwear.

I’d be sure to give her shit about that later, but for now I wanted to appreciate them, appreciate her as much as possible.

As I moved a stray hair to safely rest back into its proper place with the other strands of hair, I couldn’t help but notice the beauty that was her. Sure, she was physically stunning, but she was much more than outwardly beautiful to me. She was filled with joy, sarcasm, whit, and intelligence that was remarkable and beyond anything I had ever seen in anyone before.

“I’m flattered by your staring, but it’s getting creepy.”

I rolled my eyes at her comment and playfully nudged my nose against her cheek, feeling the swell of her bare breasts press against me as I continued nudging her face with the tip of my nose until she was in a fit of giggles, but her noises seemed to decrease in volume as I began moving my lips delicately in a downward fashion along her skin.

I let my lips linger for long as I found the nape of her neck, letting my teeth gently graze against her skin before I’d bring the slickness of my mouth and tongue against her sweet smelling body. Her hands gripped my back much firmer than before as she wrapped her legs around my waist, her body beginning to subtly move against mine every now and again.

I noticed her breath becoming louder and faster as my hands began to palm at her chest- the silky smooth skin felt as if I was grasping the finest of materials in my hand as my thumb glided smoothly to flick over her taut nipple, making her body instantly grind itself against mine and causing me to suck in a sharp and nearly painful breath.

If this is how she was making me feel now, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like once I was intimately cradling her form as close to mine as possible while we both moved within one another. To be that close to her again was something I had been craving an ungodly amount and now that I was feeling her, tasting her skin, and hearing her make the most lust filled and pleasured noises, I was nearly thanking god for this time apart that made me that much more grateful to be as close and intimate with someone that I truly and utterly loved with everything I had.

I maneuvered my body down from her collarbones until my trail took me to her chest. I didn’t dare leave the upper half of her body until I left a teasing kiss with the slightest bit of sucking to her hardened nipple as it was kissed by the cool air. She responded exactly as I thought she would, muttering a ‘fuck’ that couldn’t have been louder than a whisper, as she let her relaxed hands slip from my back to my neck. And when my mouth hovered just a bit above the warmth between her legs, I could feel her fingers curl within my hair as she waited in anticipation and I didn’t leave her hanging for long.

My mouth grazed along the fabric of her panties, mouthing and teasing at the material while grazing my teeth along the nicely trimmed lace that was fit perfectly to her body. She voluntarily spread her legs further apart as I wrapped one of my arms around her thigh, keeping it still until I moved the thin material away from her core. Her wetness was immediately visible to me which made the stiffening in my groin begin to pulsate as it became more and more consumed with sensitivity.

I seemed like a magnet to her as my mouth instantly fell to her lower lips, dipping the tip of my tongue gently between her folds as I gave a long lick to her core that made her body twitch ever so slightly beneath my touch.

I let myself enjoy her more as I began leaving flat tongued licks to her small bundle of nerves and playing them up with either quick flicks of the tongue or slow, nearly achining movements.

She moaned out my name as I continued tasting her and I felt her hand slowly slither down to rest on top of my hand that was laying on her thigh. I let my hand switch places to rest next to hers as I intertwined our fingers, all the while, my mouth proceeded to please her body. Her hips were stirring lightly with every flick of my tongue, but her hips became almost uncontrollable as I puckered my lips and began sucking mercilessly on her clit.

She was writhing and squirming with every gasp she could fathom up. Her hand was squeezing mine harshly as our fingers still remained intertwined until it was evident that she was hitting her climax. Her hips moved against my mouth and loud moans breached from her mouth as she grinded her body and I sucked and licked her up for as long as I knew it was pleasurable to her—until I felt her body relax back down into the mattress and her thumb start lightly tracing the divets of my hand again.

I pulled my face up and the first thing I saw was her bashful glow as she looked up at me with red cheeks and a thin layer of sweat glazed across her forehead.

“Well, that was quick,” I joked as I sat back up, but she didn’t seem too thrilled with my better attempt at humor as she brought her had up to lightly smack me along the arm.

“Hey!,” I winced.

“You deserved it! One-hundred percent deserved that Rami!”

I couldn’t help but let out a long string of silent chuckles as I held my hand to my heart in an attempt to calm myself, but she had a much better way of bringing me back to the situation.

Her legs, once again, became tangled up around my waist as she pulled my body downwards and luckily I caught myself with my arms to hold up my spare weight and not crush her.

We both smiled at one another as I combed my fingers through her hair, making the locks fan out across her head like a halo encapsulating her face.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Though my words seemed cliche and maybe they were, they held my inner most true feelings for this stunning creature below me that still managed to keep me memorized.

“Shut up,'' she said between a laugh and a smile as she used her hand to push my head down towards her and press our lips together.

This time the kiss was much more heated and less simple and sweet. It was passionate and loving and sexy all rolled into a glorious triad as we began to get lost and found all at the same time as we fell into our old rhythm of being intimate with one another. Naturally, our bodies began to move against one another, causing me to elicit a sort of primal noise as I pressed my mouth even further against her lips.

We stayed like that for awhile; me pressing my hips down into hers, her responding immediately by pressing her hips upwards until we met in the middle and gave each other the friction we were teasing one another with. However, once she started whimpering against my lips, I couldn’t help myself anymore. I just wanted to feel her as close as humanly possible and I wasn’t letting me or her deprive ourselves of it any longer.

I sat my body up with my weight balanced on my knees while my hands began to busy themselves as they smoothed down the middle of her chest, down her stomach, and to the top of her panties. She assisted me by pressing her thighs together and lifting her bent knees and hips in the air to allow me to roll the fabric off of her hips and down her legs until I was tossing the flimsiness to the ground.

I began to reach down towards the waist of my sweatpants and slip the fabric off of my lower half until I too was left just as bare as she was. Then, I felt her delicate fingers dance along my stomach--I hadn’t noticed until now that she had sat up and must’ve watched me shimmy out of my remaining clothing items, but she seemed to be enjoying herself quite nicely as she traced the indents of my stomach muscles until she was skating her fingertips across the line of hair resting against my lower stomach.

I’m sure she felt as my body tensed with pleasure beneath her, but it didn’t keep her from losing track of her trail ahead. Her hands moved to my hips, letting both of them feel the deeply carved indents that created an upside triangle shape into my skin, but her touch didn’t stay there for long. One of her hands remained on my hip, keeping me grounded, as her other one moved to exactly where I wanted her to touch me the most and I couldn’t help but sigh loudly at the feeling of her palm wrapped tightly around me.

I began to close my eyes, relishing in this much missed feeling and loving that she was the one making me feel this pleasure, but I was also more than ready, both physically and mentally, to feel her to the fullest extent. Quickly, I opened my eyes back up and gently placed my hands on top of hers as I slowly pinned her hands to the mattress.

“You really, really missed me, huh?,” she taunted as she playfully stuck her tongue out from between her teeth.

I shook my head as I resumed back into my position of hovering over her and without saying a word, I grabbed ahold of my member and pressed it against her wetness. Instantly, her playful smirk was replaced with squinted eyes and lips pressed together as she held in a noise that surely was threatening to vibrate off of the paper thin walls.

I started off slow, making sure that we were both comfortable with one another, as I slide inside of her with one paced motion. Her nails instantly dug into my arms as she threw her head back in pleasure, finally letting out a noise that was more than pleasing to both my ears and my hardening member. I let myself fall backwards, nearly slipping completely out of her before I repeated the motion and once I could tell she was enjoying this just as much as I was, I created a steady rhythm for the both of us.

Our foreheads were nearly touching as I thrust my hard cock into her, this time with a little more force, but nothing rough in nature. She seemed more than pleased as she moved her hips upward to meet my movements and I couldn’t help but laugh quietly to myself. Maybe she really, really missed me too, huh?

I could tell she was nearly close to reaching her climax already, but holding off and I was doing the exact same. She was clenching all around me and, my god, the noises she was making alone surely could’ve gotten me there; I wanted nothing more than to finish off and feel that pleasure that she always made me reach, but savoring this closeness and intimacy with her was much more important to me right now. I began to slow my movements down just slightly and she took note of this as she looked at me with the slightest bit of concern that screamed “what's wrong”.

My eyes softened at the comforting look on her face as she brought one of her hands up to my sweaty cheek.

“You okay?”

“Perfect actually.” She looked less than satisfied with my answer as her eyes blinked quickly--she couldn’t have looked more adorable if she had tried.

“Just want to enjoy this as long as I can,” I somehow was able to mutter, though it was surely smothered in heavy breaths and spaced out words.

She partially nodded as her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, “Told ya you missed me”.

Of course I missed her and of course I missed this, but I knew she was merely tugging at her ego and letting me know that she was still the sarcastic, beautiful woman that I fell in love with years ago. And truly, she was just that-- I couldn’t have been happier to be so deeply immersed and in love with a human being than her if I tried.

-

Tag: @lovelymalekk​ @mezzomercury​ @amcquivey​ @sherlollydramoine​ @rami-malek-trash​ @rogers-wristbands​ @deacytits​ @ramimedley​

[taeheyhey]

Hi! I have so much to say! This is gonna be like 80 asks long lol. I've said it a few times and I have to say it again, Close to Normal is the absolute best! But I read that on AO3 months ago when I was to impatient to wait for you to release it on here haha. So, it's been a while since I read your stuff. But I just read your newish other two stories on here, and OMG? God your writing is so good! I'm so impressed! I have read so much fanfic in between Close to Normal and now (tbc)

1/8 Asdfgfdsdadhssff!! Hi sweetie, I wasn’t sure how best to do this to make sure I fully express how much your kind words have meant to me, but I’m gonna try my best, so here goes: When I decided to begin releasing CtN on here I was a little nervous, it had done well on AO3 and I was very surprised, but there were just bits I wanted to tidy up and edit a little when I reposted it on tumblr. I know you have been very supportive and lovely to me since very early on and I am so grateful to you for that...

2/8 Well, your fic was the first multi-chaptered one I ever read, which inspired me to read others, which I also thank you for that, but I have read like literally probably over 100 fan fics since then like 3 months ago. Your writing is still some of the best writing I have ever read. You give just enough detail to set the scene, just enough dialogue, everything about it is amazing. I'm so in awe of just the way you structure your sentences, pepper in vocab(?) words. (tbc) 

I think sometimes huge multi-chaptered fics can be a little daunting, both in the reading and the writing, I feel incredibly honoured that you took a chance with mine! There is some absolutely breath-taking fiction out there and for you to be so sweet about mine is indescribably touching, thank you so much.

3/8 Idk I'm just amazed and I needed to gush about this for a bit. I've also attempted fanfic since I first read your stuff, so I have a much better appreciation. Things I struggle with you succeed so seemingly effortlessly (although I now understand and I am sure it is very hard for you). Thanks for putting so much work in and writing these wonderful stories. (tbc cuz imma have an ask for each of those other writings lol)

I hope you continue to write if it is something that makes you happy! It took me a long time to start writing again, after not doing it for years, and even now I don’t get anywhere enough time to dedicate to it as I would like to! I’m a little obsessive when it comes to writing my stories, I spend half of my time googling “synonyms for eyes” before realising for the umpteenth time that there really aren’t any! A lot of the time the things I am proudest of writing is stuff that just comes out when I get in a bit of a zone and the old writing-trance kicks in (but “wonderful”?! – my dear you are far far too lovely!) 

4/8 Okay so Tell 'Em You're My Lady is so great!!! Hoseok is such a whole ass cutie in this. Also I love how you portrayed Jin! I knew just from your description of him that her bf was gonna be him. It was so accurate! The interactions in general are so cute. I love that her ex's girl interacted with her in the bathroom, and their whole little girls looking out for girls situation. I've read fics similar to this plot but this still seemed so unique. Hobi is my wrecker so my heart is just like ♥

So this Hobi fic was just stuck in my head and I don’t even know where it came from. It was the first time I had tried a one-shot and I just really wanted to make it a little bit of fun! I was very surprised by the response it got!! Kind of still playing around with ideas for a follow-up to this but have a few more pressing ones to get to first! I think it’s really important to show girls supporting one another and this was the best way I could think to do it! I have had some real life-affirming interactions in the ladies restrooms as well! Also, Hoseok became my temporary wrecker when I wrote this, but Jin is my usual bias-wrecker so I am over the moon you liked my portrayal of him!

5/8 Okay Please Pull Me In was such a whirlwind for me! Deep in my heart I really hope that her and Tae end up together. The timing ughhhh. Regardless I'm happy that she left that relationship. Talk about toxic. Idk tho Rebecca seems like a sweet girl tho. Ugh Tae and her are just so cute with their sandwich shop times. Clearly they would be so good together. Maybe she ends up with JK? Idk but this one was also just so well written. I never catch myself skipping parts or losing track of what's (tbc)

It was a whirlwind for me too!! BELIEVE me! As the person who requested it wanted angst and a bit of heartbreak, I wrote it in a way where it could be left as is, while still having a part 2 in mind. I usually try and not write anyone who is an outright “baddie”, but honestly Paul is such a tremendous douche! I don’t want to give too much away but I really hope you like the end, and I really hope to get it uploaded by the end of the week – but I’ve been wrong before!!

6/8 going on. I really liked it even though the ending hurt meee. Anyways!! I feel like I'm awful at leaving feedback, but I really wanted to take extra time to leave you some hopefully really good feedback. I know you feel like Close to Normal hasn't been doing as well lately cuz of notes and stuff, but PLEASE don't be discouraged!! I tell you 100% sincerely that you're amazing as hell at it. Like write a book and I will buy the hell out of it! (If you're even interested in this as a career) (tbc)

How could you think you are awful at feedback?? It is honestly so sweet of you to do this, and I am endlessly grateful for you! I felt sort of awkward expressing my insecurities about the decrease in notes, because honestly, that isn’t at all what I enjoy about writing and posting on here. It’s interacting with wonderful people like you who like the same things I do! It’s my favourite way to fangirl!! I can’t express how encouraging and motivating your generous words are – as long as I can write more stuff that you enjoy, I will be ludicrously happy!

7/8 Okay so this has been so long I am so sorry!!! I briefly mentioned this but I have you to thank for introducing me to this whole world and I couldn't be happier for it. Real talk fanfic made me realize how shitty of a relationship I was in and I may not have ever left without it. (as weird as that sounds) (it seriously changed my life) Close to Normal will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart. Not just for introducing me to this, but just for being so good. Shit I need to do one more ask jeez

(Please don’t apologise sweetie – I literally teared-up when I read these!) I feel incredibly honoured to have been your introduction to the world of fanfic, and for it to have had such a positive influence in your life! I don’t think it sounds weird, I have been positively influenced many times by words I have read, both fictional and factual. Most of all it’s wonderful that you were able to get yourself out of a crappy situation – whatever the impetus for that may have been – but to think that I might have contributed to that in some way is unbelievably humbling. (The way you ended this ask has me s c r e a m i n g though!!)

8/8 Last one I promise!!! But idk I just find it super funny that what I imagined in my head for meeting Taehyung is pretty similar to Close to Normal. Like he is in a hotel separate from the others, but in mine I'm getting snacks at the vending machine when he comes up to do the same lol. Just thought it was a funny coincidence!!! Anyways thanks for coming for my TED talk. Love you and your writing always ♥

I said it a few times before but I tried really REALLY hard to keep an element of realism – no matter how small – when I wrote CtN, and I am so so glad you were able to relate to it in that way! It’s a whole lot of wish fulfilment from my side I can tell you that!!

I sincerely cannot say thank you enough times to express how truly grateful I am that you took so much time to do this. I have been walking around with the hugest grin on my face all day! I hope more than anything that I have done your amazingly generous comments justice with my responses. I am really overwhelmed with gratitude...thank you so much, you are an absolute sweetheart!! Lots of love, Ally ♥♥♥♥♥

[artificialqueens]

You Bring Out the Best in Me (Bengela) - vulnerose

Rambly A.N. - Hi guys! So this is meant to combine two requests I got, one being with Dela having a panic attack and the other with either Shangela/Dela being flirty and the other not noticing until said person finally makes a move. I love reading longer fanfics so I thought rather than giving two short ones, I’d just combine them into one. (And of course, why not both having a crush on each other?) Apologies if any characters here are OOC, I try my best but I haven’t written fanfiction in a long time until recently so my skills are rusty. I’m always up for prompts so if you ever want one just comment on either my posts on the artificalqueens tumblr or AO3, my user is vulnerose there as well. Andddd of course this has nothing to do with any of the people mentioned! Enjoy my loves :)

ALSO if you’d want to see a potential sequel to this just let me know. I’m honestly considering doing it, I loved writing this fic so much.

The pressure was getting too much for Dela to handle.

It was her junior year of high school, where the competition to look as good as possible academically-wise had truly kicked off. Teachers were so much tougher than they had been in the earlier years, and she found herself crying in her bedroom after school. Every. Single. Day.

It wasn’t like Dela wasn’t a good student - she was. She was a straight A all honors student, and had been since middle school. She’d decided to challenge herself to taking four AP classes, thinking she could handle the stress since she’d enjoyed taking AP Euro the previous year. But dear god was she wrong. Bio projects were daily, her APUSH teacher was super demanding and offered no test corrections, statistics was fucking her over mentally, and she could barely write a rhythm in music theory. It was draining her mentally and physically - she had to work her ass off to maintain all As. Even then, her parents still found a way to demand more out of her.

She couldn’t count the number of times she just wanted to sleep, but couldn’t because of a report she needed to write. Dela was notorious for having coffee with her every morning. She didn’t do it purposely or for show, she couldn’t survive a day without a large cup of coffee, since she rarely got more than 5 hours of sleep. In the mornings she’d put layer after layer of concealer under her eyes to cover up the ever growing bags down there, and red-reducing eye drops became her best friend. She surprisingly rarely broke out, maybe a bit of acne here and there but her skin was rather clear.

Despite all the stress eating away at her mentally, she still managed to be the sweet, always delightful girl everyone had come to know her as. She never snapped at anyone, even when they were yelling in her ear and she’d barely had any caffeine. Her image was very important to her, and she stopped at nothing to maintain it.

It was midterm time, the most stressful time of year by far, second of course to finals. Dela had anticipated this week for a bit now, studying hard for long hours and attempting to prepare herself mentally. Each midterm intercepted at least one other, and it wasn’t too long before Dela was aware that she’d be taking all of her midterms on one day. One fucking day. She nearly broke down in tears when she realized this.

The day before midterms started, Dela decided she couldn’t care less and allowed herself to destress completely, as she knew she’d only worsen the upcoming anxiety attacks if she worried over a stupid worksheet right now. The anxiety set in right after school, when she immediately began reading page after page in her history book, doing practice problems, rereading her English novel, practicing her flute, and working on her big bio lab that acted as a midterm that was due tomorrow.

She fell asleep at 4 after being confident she would be alright. She had to wake up at 7.

She walked into the exam room the following day, bags unconcealed, eyes red and puffy, contacts bothering her, and head pounding from a migraine. The second she was handed that paper, anxiety took off and in the most minute moment, her throat felt like it was being suffocated, tears trying to well in her eyes, head more focused on people tapping their stupid fucking feet on the ground. Her fingers and thighs were shaking, completely enslaved to the major panic attack she was experiencing. Her brain was focusing on anything but the paper in front of her. ‘You pulled your ponytail just a TAD too harsh. Now it’ll be the only thing you think about.’

She miraculously survived, and asked immediately afterwards to go to the bathroom. The panic attack was subsiding but fear began to grow again. What if she failed all of them? Would her mom disown her? What if they thought I was cheating because I was looking around the room so often? I couldn’t help myself, right? It was the anxiety, not me right?

Dela locked herself in a stall and just sat there recollecting her thoughts and allowing the panic to subside. God, how she wished someone was here to make her feel better right now. Jinkx had ended up missing midterms incredibly narrowly, as her family’s yearly trip to Seattle had been scheduled to start the day before. Jinkx always had shitty cellular up there so there was no way she’d be talking to her until after the Christmas break ended. Aja was still taking her midterms and so was Trixie, and Alaska was probably too busy with Roxxxy and Detox to watch her cry about her everything.

She pushed at the chipping nail polish on her thumb, sighing heavily as she thought. Nobody really cared for her, did they? Dela always felt that she had a sufficient friend group, people that had her best interests in mind no matter what, but the realization dawned on her that no, no she didn’t. She couldn’t think of one person that would be able to comfort her right now. That person was always Jinkx, but now she had to find a way to deal with her emotional breakdowns on her own until her best friend returned. And she didn’t know how to take that.

That is, of course, until her brain and the voices inside began to taunt her and laugh, saying she was dumb, unlovable, forgettable; the list went on and on and on. Tears began to run down Dela’s cheek as she couldn’t stop the voices from continuing to spew hateful words at her, telling her how she’s a disappointment of a daughter and how all of her friends really just felt sorry for her. That she bombed all of her midterms and she’d be rejected by everyone.

Logically Dela knew it wasn’t true - nobody would hate her for failing a test, but she couldn’t help but believe the other two. Since when had her parents been truly proud of her? And since when did the majority of the girls she called friends ever text or call her? Even hang out with her? She couldn’t think of a time, date, or place.

Dela was fully broken down and worn out, crying from stress and panic and relief and sadness all at once. She’d never truly felt so useless and vulnerable until this day in time. Dela was grateful she hadn’t worn makeup, at least there’d be no tear stains on her skin.

Her crying session was abruptly ended by a voice.

“What’s going on in there mama? Don’t know who’s in there or what’s going on but it’s something. I’m not leaving until I help you darling.”

Dela’s eyes widened as she instantly recognized the voice. Shangela Waldey. Head cheerleader, but in the few times she’s spoken with her, seemed nice. They shared a couple of classes too. Her ugly crying stopped and was replaced by quiet sniffling.

“Honey? C'mon, tell me what’s up. Or come out and I can give you a hug or something.”

A hug did sound pretty nice right now.

Dela came out of the cubicle with her face red, eyes even bluer than usual from crying, and Shangela’s heart broke at the sight. She didn’t know Dela well, but it hurt to see the usually sweet and happy girl stripped down and miserable.

“Oh sweetie…” Shangela’s arms reached out and wrapped around Dela’s body, and Dela felt a sense of comfort and relief. She continued to cry but it definitely wasn’t as audible as it’d been before. Dela tried to avoid crying all over Shangela’s cheerleader uniform but Shangela wasn’t having it and whispered for her to not worry. Shangela rubbed her back to try and relieve the poor girl, wondering who made a girl so precious and gentle cry like this.

“What’s wrong honey? You’re always so happy. Did someone hurt you?” Dela blinked at her, shaking her head slowly, both still keeping the hug.

“Wasn’t anyone. I’m so stressed out Shangela, I just finished taking all my exams today. My brain has been so fried this entire year and I’m really scared that I’m gonna do shit on them.” Dela began to bawl again as she told the girl what was bothering her. Shangela’s hand began to play with Dela’s hair as she continued to listen to the girl talk. “My closest friend is away and I can’t talk to her right now and I feel like nobody cares about me. I can’t think of one person that I could talk to right now, none of them like me. I just feel like a tremendous failure.” Shangela broke the hug, holding one of Dela’s hands in hers, other lightly pointing up Dela’s chin so she could look her straight in the eye.

“Don’t know you that well honey, it’s the truth. But from what I do know, you’re anything but what your brain tells you that you are. I’m sorry you feel that way sweetheart, because it’s not true at all. You’re not a failure, and if you really feel like you don’t have anyone that you can talk to, I’m here.” Dela’s eyes widened slightly - she wasn’t expecting that kind of a response. From the moment Shangela broke the hug she thought she would taunt her and get her popular friends to begin bullying her.

“Got a lot on your mind, don’t you?” Shangela was smiling with both her eyes and mouth, watching Dela stare into space. Dela snapped out of it almost immediately.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.” Dela stopped momentarily to wipe the tears from her eyes before continuing. “Why do you care about me? Like you have so many friends and you’re so popular, why me?”

Shangela couldn’t help but laugh. “Girl you think I give a shit about 99% of the people I hang out with? You can’t trust them with any secrets you got, all they wanna do is get drunk on weekends, they’re barely passing their classes right now, fucking ridiculous. Partying and failing isn’t my schtick, only reason why they keep me around is because without me, there’s no cheerleading team.” Shangela so badly wanted to form a true friendship with someone, and had always found Dela to be a sweetheart - not to mention quite beautiful too - and she couldn’t pass up this opportunity to get to know her better.

Dela sat down on the bench beside them, Shangela joining her, waiting her response. Dela buried her head in Shangela’s shoulder, whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again.

Shangela felt her heart begin to fly, and she couldn’t think of why.

Shangela broke the hug, grabbing Dela’s hand and walking the both of them to the sink. “C'mon honey, let’s get your face washed so you don’t look like a hot mess. If you can let’s hang out after school.”

Dela smiled at her, dousing her face in cold water, feeling energy soar through her as it hit her face. “Sure, that sounds lovely.”

After sharing phone numbers, the two of them grabbed their backpacks, ready to head out after spending far too long in there. Shangela’s hand fumbled in the front pocket of her backpack, searching for a box of Altoids. She took one in her mouth.

“Have one girl, you need it after all the coffee you drink.” She could tell Shangela was being playful - nothing in the blonde’s voice indicated bad intents.

Dela laughed, taking one out and popping it in her mouth, the peppermint freshening her breath.

“See you soon girl,” Shangela waved goodbye, heading out of the bathroom.

Dela’s face was illuminated with the biggest smile it’s ever had. She didn’t really know why. “See you soon,” she whispered back, in the silence of the bathroom.

—————————————————

The past couple of weeks had been some of the best either of them had in their lives. They spent time hanging out as often as they could, and texted on those days they just couldn’t be together in person, especially when Shangela had work. It excited Shangela to have a real person for a friend - not a fake, popularity-obsessed one. She could talk to Dela about seemingly anything, from grades to personal issues and everything in between. Dela always listened and gave her advice when she needed it. Shangela was, for the first time, not feeling left to the side in a friendship. She felt like Dela truly cared about her and her wellbeing.

Dela didn’t know what to expect initially, but had all her doubts and scared about Shangela shut down that first time they hung out after the bathroom incident. She just had an aura consisting of genuine, loving, reality-checking behavior that Dela just loved. Shangela was never one to lie - she always told it how it was and she respected her immensely for that as it’s so easy to lie. She initially thought of Shangela being a substitute for Jinkx but she no longer viewed her in that manner - she was nothing like Jinkx. She was just uniquely Shangela, and when Jinkx returned from Seattle she couldn’t wait to tell her what’d just gone down.

“You’re friends with who?” Jinkx whisper-screamed at Dela, a bewildered look on the ginger’s face as she attempted to take in what Dela had just told her. The two were in Dela’s bedroom for a sleepover, where Dela just unraveled the news to her friend.

Dela snorted at her response. “You heard me.”

“Christ, I leave for one week and a year’s events have gone by. I’m warning you right now, if she ever hurts you or you let her I’m personally beating her into a pulp.” She pointed a finger directly at Dela when she said the last fragment of her sentence, establishing her meaning well and clear.

Dela threw a pillow in her face. “She’s not gonna do that, I promise.”

Jinkx got off the floor, rolling herself into Dela’s bed and shutting off the lamp as she turned on the TV. “Don’t make a promise too soon. Now let’s watch something before I pass out.”

—————————————————

It had been a month since Shangela and Dela had first met that day, and Dela was just now getting to see Shangela’s apartment - purely because the two had to finish a biology project they’d been assigned to work together on.

Shangela fumbled with her keys as Dela stood behind her in the hallway of the building. “It’s not much to look at so don’t be surprised.” Dela laughed as Shangela finally managed to get the door to unlock after numerous tries.

Closing the door behind her, Shangela led Dela around and allowed her to take in her surroundings. The apartment was rather simple - it had both a modern and cozy feel to it. Dela couldn’t help but notice the lack of people in the apartment.

As soon as they got to Shangela’s room, and both of the girls plopped down on her bed, Dela decided to ask her what the deal was with it. “Hey Shangie?”

Shangela’s head turned toward her, putting down her phone. “What’s up sweetheart?”

The cute nickname made Dela’s heart fly, but she tried to not let it be visible. “I’m sorry if this is rude to ask, but you appear to live by yourself, how come?”

If there was one thing that hurt Shangela slightly, it was talking about what had happened between her and her parents. Dela immediately sensed the discomfort on Shangela’s face after she’d asked her the question, and instantly felt like shit. She reached a hand out and rubbed Shangela’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to Shangie, I’m sorry if I hurt you in anyway.”

“It’s ok, just that it’s hard what I went through with my parents.” Shangela paused momentarily, deciding whether she should say the next thing or not. “Promise you won’t judge me for what I’m about to say?”

“Unless you murdered someone, I have no judgement in my heart towards you,” Dela reassured her, smiling with her eyes.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “So when I was around 13, my mom caught me watching lesbian porn. I’d been doing watching it for a while but I got careless that one day, you know? So then my parents had a long talk with me and sent me to conversion therapy and all that shit,” Shangela took a pause, her eyes beginning to water. She hated the fact that she was about to cry like a baby in front of Dela, but she’d seen the other girl in that state before so she felt less embarrassed.

“Oh no, you poor thing.” Dela immediately engulfed her in a tight hug. “What happened after, since obviously conversion therapy isn’t a scientifically proven way to become straight?”

“I faked that it worked for a while, but last year they caught me kissing a girl and that was their final straw. They kicked me out and I haven’t spoken to any of my family in about a year.” Tears stained Shangela’s cheeks as she thought of her family; all the good memories that made her wish this all hadn’t happened. She really did love and miss her family, but she would have been even more miserable staying in the closet but being with them.

Dela could feel her adrenaline spike as she heard Shangela tell her that she was gay. “I’m gay too and my parents didn’t react well either when I came out. They told me to never talk about it again or they would throw me in the streets. I know exactly how you feel, there’s just so much hate and ignorance in this world, it sucks.”

Shangela couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief pass through her body as Dela told her that she was in the closet as well, and how she didn’t just get up and leave. Of course Dela wouldn’t do the latter - she knew the girl well enough by now to know that she doesn’t judge a soul - and she honestly wasn’t expecting her to tell her that she was gay as well.

“We really are the same, aren’t we?” Dela laughed, punching her arm lightly.

“Now I can send you pictures of girls that I think are hot,” Dela told her, winking.

Shangela couldn’t help but smile as she saw her wink. It gave shy, cunning, and flirty all at once.

Maybe it means something… maybe it doesn’t.

“Cmon girl, we all know I’m the standard of beauty.”

“Wow, society’s standards are that low?” Shangela’s mouth gaped at Dela’s answer, the once silent room filling with laughs and guffaws.

“Fucking bitch. Let’s get started with this bio project and make it good so we don’t hear Smith lecturing our asses on how we’ll fail the AP test.” Shangela couldn’t thank Dela enough for brightening up the mood, but now it was time to come up with a project worthy of at least a passing grade.

“Boo,” Dela pouted, sighing as she went to get her laptop.

“Hurry back quick so we can start baby.”

Dela was now incredibly grateful she had her back turned to Shangela so she couldn’t see how much that nickname made her blush. She returned, both laptop and her bio binder in hand and sat on the bed once more, Shangela having wiped her face of the tear-stained foundation and runny mascara and eyeliner from crying, yet chose to reapply her red lipstick. Dela couldn’t help but notice how good of a color red was on her.

“I like that lipstick shade on you, it looks so beautiful.” Dela had been pulling up the rubric to see exactly what they had to accomplish - and of course they got the project focusing on sex cells.

“Thank you darling, maybe I’ll give it to you one day,” Shangela spoke, wrapping her arm around Dela’s waist and looking on with her at the screen. Was that flirtation in her voice? No - couldn’t be, probably just meant she’d buy it for her birthday or something. The arm was an innocent gesture but she couldn’t help but feel her heart burst from it. Oh god, why was she getting so enamored by Shangela all of a sudden? She’d always acted this way around her - it meant nothing one way or the other, right?

What was this girl doing to her?

Dela couldn’t say anything else besides, “Let’s get this started.”

And so they did.

—————————————————

“Dela? Earth to Dela?” Jinkx waved a hand in front of Dela’s face, who’d been staring at her locker for the past five minutes. Dela immediately sprung back to life, twisting the combination.

“Sorry, lot on my mind right now. You have time to talk?” She shoved several books in and slammed the locker shut with her foot.

“Sure do. Let’s walk to the coffee shop, you can talk to me about your issues throughout the journey,” the redhead replied, tapping the top of Dela’s head. Dela couldn’t help but notice Shangela walk right by the two of them as they neared the front door. She winked at Dela, then began heading toward the gym, presumably for cheer practice.

Jinkx had noticed as well, and gave Shangela a confused look to her back. Nonetheless, they walked out together and Dela began the long process of explaining everything happening to her to Jinkx.

“So basically I wanna tell you something she told me the other day but promise you won’t tell anyone about it? Like, ever since I’ve known this I’ve been feeling weird things towards her and I don’t know why.”

“My lips are sealed doll.” The two decided to sit down on a bench in the park, which happened to be right by the café they’d been headed to. The ginger played with the rips in her jeans, still looking at Dela, fully alert.

Dela whispered so that nobody besides the two of them could hear. “We came out to each other. I’m only whispering in case she isn’t out yet.” Her voice leveled to a normal speaking voice. “Now I feel like everything she does is flirty, and I don’t know if I’m just being too hopeful or there might be something there.”

“What sorts of things are making you think she might like you?”

“She calls me these really sweet nicknames and I blush every time she calls me them. Like she calls me baby and darling all the time and I haven’t heard her say my actual name since the first day we met.”

Jinkx’s fingers moved onto scraping the black nail polish she had on. “Hmmm, that’s tricky because a lot of people do that sort of nickname thing with close friends. I mean, I do it to you on the daily. Buttt, it can be a sign. Give me the rundown on the rest.”

Dela began to count off with her fingers as she recited. “She gets kinda touchy with me, she’s always in the mood to hang out with me, I told her how nice her lipstick looked on her and she said she’d give it to me and I don’t know whether it’s a pass or not, you know?” She got frustrated with herself as she realized that her potential signs just sounded like Shangela being a good friend, which of course she was. “It’s so hard to explain, but I just feel like she does.”

“I bet you there’s one very obvious sign that you’ve forgotten. Think Dela, think,” Jinkx persuaded her, knowing there’s got to be one key factor to making the final verdict.

Dela hesitated for a moment, before speaking. “I mean, she’s cried in front of me, but I don’t think that’s a sign? I know she’s not known for crying but that didn’t seem like a sign to me, maybe it is.”

Jinkx’s eyes widened. “Oh no honey, she loves you. Shangela hasn’t cried in front of anyone in this school since pre-k. Which I commend her for, I can’t go for even a month without crying.” Dela felt her heartbeat speed up. “But the question is, do you like her? And I already know the answer to that, you do. Make a move on her before she thinks you’re not interested. That probably won’t end pretty.”

“You support me being with her?” Dela almost felt the eyeroll Jinkx gave her in response.

“As long as you’re happy with it, I don’t give a shit you do. But mark my words, if Shangela Wadley ever even thinks of hurting you, I will make sure she gets it.” Dela smiled, hugging her.

“Thanks dude.”

“No problem, I love being the third wheel,” Jinkx spoke, sarcastic. “You can get your girl after we finish this shift.”

Dela sighed, annoyed, as she’d forgotten completely about their shift. “Three hours of hell and I can go over to her house.”

The two got up and began heading toward the coffee shop, where they both worked. “What’re you gonna do there with her?”

“I’m addicted to Game of Thrones thanks to her now, so we planned on watching it for a movie night. Maybe a special topic will be brought up.” Dela looked at Jinkx and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Ah yes, that topic being on the role of the nucleus in a cell?”

“Sure,” Dela rolled her eyes as Jinkx laughed, both reaching the glass entrance door of the coffee shop simultaneously.

“You’re so in love.”

—————————————————

“Hey girl!” Shangela greeted Dela in pajama pants and a t-shirt, hair up in a bun. Her look may be seen as lazy and boring to others, but Dela saw her looking equally beautiful as she did all made up. Shangela enveloped Dela in a hug.

“Hi Shangie!” Dela’s hair was wet and cold against Shangela’s scalp - she’d probably just washed it - and Shangela didn’t care one bit. It was unlike her and she knew that - cold wet hair was her worst enemy.

Everything is appealing when it’s done by the one you love, isn’t it? Shangela shook that thought out of her head. It was time to accept the fact that Dela had no feelings for her in that way and just thought of her as a close friend. The thought of that pained her, but she felt like it was obvious at this point. Dela probably would have made a move on her by now if she liked her, as Shangela thought her flirting made it clear that Shangela liked the other girl.

God, she really needed to get out of her head for a second, didn’t she?

“Hey girl, need help with your stuff?” Shangela asked, noticing Dela carrying a bag with night clothes, which appeared to be rather heavy. Dela shook her head in refusal, but her eyes glimmered, thanking her for the offer.

“Can I leave this in your room?” Shangela waved her off, giving the signal to do whatever the hell she wanted. Dela ran across the living room to the bedroom, plopping the bag on her bed before coming back to the couch where Shangela was sitting, curled up in a blanket. “How rude of you to not give me one too.” Shangela laughed.

“Girl please. Go steal one from my room.” And so she did.

Dela returned with a blue blanket, with the pattern being the phrase ‘Halleloo!’ written all over it. “The most Shangela one I could find,” Dela mumbled while curling herself into a ball with the blanket, her head lying on top of Shangela’s lap purposely as the two sat on the couch. The blanket smelled like her too, and Dela couldn’t get enough.

Shangela ruffled Dela’s hair, smiling at the girl. “Excellent choice dear. Let’s watch this shit now.” Dela wooed in response.

For the next hour or so, the two girls stared at the screen, Shangela making remarks on how she was literally Daenerys or how she was the mother of the dragons. Dela would just smile in response, enjoying the sweet moment as Shangela gently stroked her hair, treating her with care and caution. The tension between the two was clearly thick to anyone but them. After a second episode had concluded, Dela flipped her body around so she was facing Shangela, but her head still in her lap. Shangela looked at her confusingly, the movement drawing her attention away from the credits.

“I wanna ask you something,” Dela said, looking up into Shangela’s eyes, who at this point had retracted her hand from the other.

“What’s up?”

“Do you like anyone?” Um, duh, is what Shangela wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to be that brash. Hesitation evident, she eventually responded.

“Mhm.”

“Cool, I do too.” That phrase had sunk any hopes Shangela had of Dela liking her, and all she wanted to do was cry. “Let’s play a game.”

Shangela raised her eyebrows at her. “A game? What do you mean?”

“Like,” Dela paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before sitting up, “We each reveal one characteristic of the person we like so we can guess who the other likes. We say 5 qualities and at the end we have to guess.”

Fuck it, why not? “You go first darling.”

“Sure.” Dela was happy yet extremely nervous, wondering if her plan would blow over. “She has blonde hair.”

“What a specific quality.” Dela smirked. “She has black hair.

Dela thought for a moment before saying the next trait. “Her first name is eight letters long.” Shangela raised an eyebrow at her. Ok work, she thought. Shangela barely knew how to spell her own name, let alone the number of letters in it.

“Hers is four letters long.” Dela wanted to gape, but knew she couldn’t. Who else had black hair and a four letter name?

“Hmmm, she’s a cheerleader. A pretty good one at that.” Shangela was almost positive she could hear her heart pounding out of her chest when Dela said that. It’s gotta be her, there was literally no other person in the school it could be.

Shangela thought for a moment before saying the next hint. This could either blow up in her face or make her the happiest person in the world. “She was crying in the bathroom about finals one day and I helped her out.” Shangela both couldn’t wait to see Dela’s reaction and feared it.

She felt Dela’s hand graze hers, and was petrified as Dela hadn’t responded right away. Dela’s other hand brushed the curly blonde hair out of her face and stroked her cheek lightly.

“It’s me huh?” Dela asked her in a faint voice. Shangela wanted to roll her eyes so hard at that question. No, it’s the fucking Pope.

“Mhm, if you don’t feel the same I’ll never mention this aga-” Shangela had been cut off by Dela pressing her lips against her own. Her body had tensed up immediately before relaxing into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Dela. Everything felt right. Dela’s lips were warm and so soft, and her thumb continued stroking Shangela’s cheek as the two shared the first out of many tender moments.

Dela broke it, tears welling up in her eyes as she realized the reality of this. This girl loved her. She vowed to herself to treat her like a goddess, as she deserved nothing less than that.

“It’s so early but I want to let you know that I love you, and I have for the past couple of months. You’ve made my life so much better and I feel genuinely happy whenever I’m around you, it’s not the fake kind that I give to most of the people in school,” Dela didn’t look Shangela in the eyes speaking this, focusing on chipping the nail polish on her fingers. Shangela tightened her grip on Dela, rubbing her back with her hand lightly and stroking through her hair with the other.

“Same here baby. I love you so much, and I hope you know that. You bring out the best in me.” Dela gave her that smile - that beautiful fucking smile that she loved so much - and buried her face into Shangela’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe it took us so long to admit it to each other,” Dela said, breaking the silence they’d had momentarily. Shangela leaned in to give her another warm peck on the lips before agreeing with her.

“Whatever, we have each other now and I can shower you in love.” Dela smiled against the skin on Shangela’s shoulder.

“Sounds great.”

Shangela turned off the TV, lifting the girl still wrapped in her blanket as she shuffled her way to her bedroom, still wearing hers. Dela kisses the same spot on her cheek repeatedly throughout the short journey, and let out a whine when Shangela released her from her grip, leaving her on the bed under the covers. She removed the blankets from their bodies and discarded them haphazardly across her room. Shangela joined her in the bed, Dela snuggling up against her warm body as Shangela hugged her tight, pressing a kiss into her neck before beginning to doze off.

As they began to fall asleep, they were over the moon as they were finally able to lie in bed with the one they loved.

—————————————————

After that weekend, they made a promise to each other to not keep it a secret. Of course, not rub it in everyone’s faces, but to not avoid little things like holding each other’s hands in the halls or sneaking kisses when nobody was looking (or so they thought).

That Monday morning, Jinkx was all but shocked seeing the new couple hugging in front of Dela’s locker, which wasn’t too far from Jinkx’s. She smirked at Dela, mouthing 'I told you so!’ before being waved off by a flip of the middle finger by Dela.

Eventually, the two had to part, as they had different home rooms. Their different classes didn’t stop them from all their thoughts being consumed by one another.

Lunch time rolled around, and Dela was thoroughly surprised when she saw a particular girl with winged eyeliner and red lipstick coming her way. “Oh look who decided to join me for once?” She spoke teasingly, Shangela rolling her eyes.

Shangela sat next to her. “I don’t give a fuck about my old 'friend’ group anymore.” Shangela said, emphasizing the word friend with finger quotation marks. “I have you and I really don’t care what they have to say about me anymore.” Dela looked lovingly into Shangela’s eyes before pressing her lips against hers. People were probably staring but they didn’t care - let them stare.

They pulled apart way too quickly for either of their likings, but neither girl wanted to get in trouble by the staff. Dela’s lips had become a faint red from her lipstick and Shangela loved the way it looked on her more than anything.

“I’m getting you to wear red lipstick soon, it looks so nice on you.” At this moment, Jinkx and the rest of Dela’s small friend group had joined the table, everyone but the three who knew gaped at the situation. Shangela simply smiled and greeted them all warmly, getting to know the rest of Dela’s friends. Some of the popular group that had been used to Shangela being with them had caught notice of the situation.

“The fuck is she doing?” Violet questioned to Ginger and Manila, confused as hell as to why Shangela was hanging out with new people, much less why she was getting all touchy with a band nerd - Dela. “What’s gonna happen to the cheer team now?”

Both girls were about to agree with her when a voice came up behind them. “I’m fine with it. She looks really happy.” Manila turned her head to see who was speaking.

It was Raja.

“But-” Ginger began to speak before Raja shut her down.

“Honey she’s never looked happier than she does right now. Let her live. Shangela’s staying on the team, she told me.”

The trio nodded their heads reluctantly, continuing to watch the scene a bit more before turning back to their table.

Despite attempting to focus her attention on the new girls, Shangela’s mind and eyes would always go back to Dela. She couldn’t help herself, and Dela winked at her when the period was close to being over, letting her head rest on Shangela’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around her waist. Shangela looked at her, her heart being warmed as Dela’s beautiful blue eyes sparkled and glittered at her. She was perfect.

“You guys are so fucking cute,” Aja said. The whole table noticed the scene occurring when Aja had pointed it out and began squealing. Dela’s face flushed with embarrassment, but Shangela, being the girl she was, leaned in to kiss her. The squeals turned into 'aw’s and they pulled apart at the exact moment the bell rang.

Although they had to part ways since they didn’t share their last two classes together, Shangela followed her to the band room, not caring if she was late. Dela refused to let her but Shangela was resilient.

As they turned a corner, Dela mumbled, “I love you,” into Shangela’s ear. The shorter of the two whispered the same thing back, and there they were at Dela’s stop.

“So movie date tonight?” Shangela asked her. The two didn’t have plans but fuck it, why not make some?

“By movie you mean Game of Thrones? Of course. I’m surprised you’re not sick of me after being around me literally twenty-four seven.”

“I could never get sick of you, you stole my cold dead heart. Now go in before your teacher yells at you.” Shangela stood on her tippy toes, pressing a kiss into Dela’s hair before running off before she was insanely late. Dela’s face had a bright smile plastered on it, her heart warm and full.

She was perfect.

[janiedean]

While i hate antis and their bullying everytime they shaming a fictional ship because i believe that "Fiction is not reality", I also agree that fiction can be a good role model for the real world for example : Diana's characterisation in Wonder Woman to show us more variety of strong woman character or Theon's PTSD scene to how us what REAL PSTD scene looks like (and we're mad when people keep saying that Theon just being coward in that scene). How should we balance the two, in your opinion?

okay, so, first thing, I think we need to make a basic distinction and state that fiction influences reality and people might be influenced by fiction do not mean the same thing whatsoever.

then we have to make another distinction ie there’s such a thing as massively consumed fiction and less consumed fiction/fandom and both are also different.

then we also have to state that one thing is emulating characters, one thing is finding them interesting or recognizing yourself in them.

last thing that instead is valid for everything, one thing is good things being represented in fiction, the other is bad things being represented in fiction.

let’s go from easier to hardest.

easier: massively consumed vs fandom. now, what people on tumblr fail to realize is that most of the planet doesn’t not give a fuck about fandom or engages with it. I mean, if you’re into it you would, but I know a bunch of people who are nerds/into fandom who don’t ship nor are into fanfic. fanfic/fanart/whatever influences people maybe on a fandom-level, but if you assume that people at large might start thinking incest is fine because thor/loki exists (which is a purely fanon thing) or because jaime/cersei exists (actual mainstream stuff but not as large as idk SW), you’re frankly deluding yourself because only thor/loki shippers give two fucks about thor/loki and not counting a few people I can think of, no one thinks jaime/cersei makes incest okay nor abusive relationships okay. thor/loki isn’t even represented in fiction, it’s fanfic, jaime/cersei is represented in fiction, but no one would think either thing makes banging your brother okay whether it’s dysfunctional (t/l) or just downright abusive (j/c). in that case assuming that if you’re into t/l or j/c you want to bang your brother is the bad case which assumes that whichever fiction in existence influences reality directly.

that said, no one is actually wanting to make a social justice point while having jc being a thing or t/l being dysfunctional. it’s dynamics that are interesting to explore.

wonder woman giving more variety to a strong female character instead is extremely mass-consumption media which would show a lot of people that different type (because a lot more people watch DC movies than GOT) then you show them differently and they might start thinking differently about strong female characters. or idk black kids seeing the new star wars and liking that there’s a black lead (same for the mcu and falcon/black panther) is also an extremely mass-consumption thing, because of course most people watch star wars and know what the hell star wars is. in that case you have fiction making a positive impact on reality (or maybe reflecting reality) but it’s also, like, reasonable. because sw-the-movies have impact and normalize that the leads in the story can also be not always white blonde men with blue eyes, but the star wars fandom - and I’m just talking about the part that produces fanfic/fanart and not about the people cosplaying stormtroopers and so on - influences shit. no one is going to make people think force-choking someone is going to be okay because k*ylux fic exists, same as no one thinks that killing a bunch of children is okay because anakin did it in the prequels and no one is ever gonna think you’re a psychopath because you stan k*ylo ren same as no one who watches star wars (IN GENERAL) sees kylo and thinks WOW HAVING SUCH A BAD VILLAIN WILL BE A BAD INFLUENCE TO CHILDREN, because a generation or two grew up thinking vader was cool but no one ever thought what vader did was right. I mean, people who don’t have issues distinguishing the two facts (and usually the people who do are radical SOMETHING, conservatives or antis or whatever) are entirely aware that reality lets itself being influenced by fiction to a certain degree when it’s about positive things, not for negative things at large.

now obviously you have exceptions like fifty shades of gray which is a bad fanfic that has turned mainstream (relatively) and so now there’s a bunch of people convinced that it’s real BDSM TM, but that’s because in society people don’t get educated about how abusive relationships work or toxic relationships work so they don’t recognize it in shitty fanfic turned mainstream, but that’s where you focus your efforts and educate people, you don’t say that since fifty shades is shit then you can’t write books or make movies about bdsm period, which is what the idiots seem to want.

now, moving on to point one: as stated above, *fiction* as a thing doesn’t influence reality or every kid who’s ever read HP would have committed suicide trying to fly off the window on a broom, which is a thing that we know doesn’t exist irl and cannot exist irl. and mainstream fiction can influence reality as much as we let it for positive things, because honest, who’s ever turned violent because of videogames? no one, but since we all have violent instincts buried somewhere maybe killing people in a videogame lets you blow off some steam and whatever because you know it’s fake. of course there’s the matter of age appropriate content, but if a parent lets a seven year old watch GOT or play GTA and then that kid is traumatized it’s their parents’ fault, not the fault of the media which was clearly labeled for adults. or I mean, I read/watched media that was above my age when I was ten but I was ready for it and my parents knew it, if I wasn’t they wouldn’t have let me.

also, on the ptsd angle: in the punisher there’s plenty of examples of realistic ptsd post-war, but I haven’t seen anyone yet say anything sensed on what was to me the most realistic and well done character in that sense (lewis wilson) because people kept on saying he was *white terrorist* and that the show didn’t excuse his action with *mental illness* without knowing that having ptsd post-combat is like, being mentally ill. that show was excellent rep in that sense, but have people in fandom caught up on it or understood it? meh. people outside it yes, and maybe some people on here, too, but not as many as I’d like. same goes for theon - WITHIN FANDOM because the ptsd thing was fairly understood OUTSIDE IT. which means that the real world is getting more sensitive to that narrative, tumblr isn’t. in that case, the real world is letting himself be influenced or touched by that narrative, tumblr isn’t. what do we know.

so, tldr for this part: fiction only influences X as far as you let it and people in general do know that if wrong thing is depicted in fiction it’s wrong. I mean, I never heard of anyone becoming a pedophile after watching or reading mysterious skin, which is a really fucking good movie which doesn’t romanticize the subject at all. 

now, about the last part ie personal identification/emulation: now, never mind that emulating a character is usually done by the time you’re ten and before then you pretend to be batman while playing with your friends but you know you’re not batman, and past five you do know that if superman can fly, you a regular human being can’t. the point is that fictional people are written by real people, so if they’re realistic and the writers write them well, they’ll be relatable, and if they’re relatable they might influence you as a person or make you find shit out about yourself that might change you, and in that sense it does influence reality somehow, or if you use it to cope with trauma then it surely helps you, but who you relate to isn’t what others might. we can say that we have basic level, representation level, using-it-to-cope level.

now I’m gonna go use myself as a template since I’ve for good and for bad have used fiction to cope with shit for my entire life, so. under the cut because this is long and the next part is all personal shit so people should have the right to scroll past it xD

basic level: when I was fifteen I was having a shit time, I read the dark tower, I ran into my Favorite Character Ever, the guy used shitty humor to deal with crap all the time, it was a tendency I already had and I went like ‘okay if it worked for him why didn’t it work for me’ and today I’m someone who deals with about anything by using shitty humor or joking about it and it’s helped me tremendously honestly, if I took everything too seriously I’d be a terrible person. also, that helped me with self-confidence to a point and blah blah blah it made my life tangentially better. but that was just, like, about me. and I didn’t certainly try to emulate the guy’s worst flaws, because that wasn’t the point. anyway, I found the guy relatable but I didn’t see him as, like, representation or anything.

representation level/slightly coping level: I read asoiaf when I was twenty-two. I am sad I didn’t before because when I ran into brienne I was slammed with a brick in the face that was saying OH HEY THAT’S SOMEONE WHO’S ACTUALLY LIKE YOU/HAD YOUR EXPERIENCES. I don’t just relate to brienne, I identify with brienne to a fairly bad degree, and I’m really sad I didn’t run into her before because I might have gathered a great deal of self-confidence from seeing that there was a main character somewhere who was ugly/seen as ugly by anyone else and still was an a+++ person who could do worthwhile things and was a viable love interest for Hot Guy. (idk if it shows when I write jb fic but it’s there, so.) did brienne change my life? not as much as she could have if I had read acok when it was released, but she did give me some hope that with GOT becoming mainstream not-conventionally-pretty women would get some mainstream rep, because sure af there wasn’t much when I grew up. if that happens? fiction did influence reality, but in the wonder woman/good kind. again, no one (me or anyone else) would want to be like brienne by GRABBING A SWORD AND KILLING PEOPLE, we’d rather probably just get confidence/inspired by what she does. because she’s a well-written character that entirely gets it.

except that a lot of asoiaf fans think that she’s boring or useless or see nothing in her. which is fine - it’s not their target I guess, but again, a character who’s extremely important to me means nothing to other people and certainly doesn’t influence them.

coping/potentially badwrong coping level: so, as a person I’m really not into badwrong/dysfunctional dynamics that don’t make people better. as such, I tend to ship healthy couples/dynamics where the two people make each other better.

which is why I never was remotely interested in thor/loki as a thing in my entire life until two months ago - WAIT - and for all my time in the mcu I always felt a visceral dislike for loki I never really dwelt upon while at the same time whenever I saw thor bashing (ie he’s an idiot or he’s a bully or he doesn’t understand loki and the likes) I always felt a visceral distaste in my mouth like NO DON’T IT’S NOT LIKE THAT, but since it wasn’t even my favorite mcu franchise and thor isn’t my favorite mcu character I never, like, thought about it. I just went with the obvious ‘everyone likes loki because ANTAGONISTS which I don’t get and I get angry on thor’s behalf because he doesn’t deserve that shit’. all good until I watch ragnarok which is, like, COMPLETE CRACK ON A STICK AND NOT A SERIOUS MOVIE AT ALL and which probably did not mean to be a psychological textbook and at the end I’m like ‘fuck okay maybe I ship it a bit and now that loki’s done with the angst maybe I can tolerate him’, and then not long later or so I get hit with another ton of bricks in the face and realize that of course I always had that feeling, that was because thor and loki had the exact same dysfunctional dynamic I had with my former best friend of fourteen years that I haven’t talked to for at least seven years and which is like the root of 70% of the issues I have. all of them. and like, loki was like her except Much More Extra and on a larger scale, thor was me except Much More Extra and the more I think about it the more it just fits 100% and you don’t even wanna know how I’ve spent this last month, because I had no idea I spent six years with those feelings about that dynamic because of that, I had no idea I actually found thor that relatable on a visceral level and I still have Unresolved Issues with that person and I can’t solve them with them personally for reasons. if I actually end up writing them fanfic where I, uh, subtly address personal issues and it works, then that badwrong-ish fic has influenced me for the best (and says all that I realized it just when they reconciled, I didn’t let myself do it before). but like, that wouldn’t mean that I wanted to bang my ex-friend or that I suddenly approve of incest - because sure af I didn’t want to bang her and sure af I didn’t turn into PLEASE DO BANG YOUR SIBLINGS WHENEVER YOU WANT (ew no). that’s the damned difference. thor and loki banging in whatever fanfic won’t make anyone excuse incest and won’t influence anyone outside thor fandom on ao3 - hell, at most it’s going to influence me because if I do it I’m doing it to work through my issues. it doesn’t change reality at large.

like, fiction can be a model for something you want to see more of or you can find characters role models or relatable and it can present you a view of the world, but at the end of the day we all know that it’s not real and we only use it to filter reality and/or ourselves through it and it helps us doing it, which is why something that makes sense to me - ie that thor is extremely relatable - won’t make sense to someone who finds loki relatable for reasons I couldn’t even begin to imagine. maybe the same piece of fiction/media both influences us, but it influences us very differently because we see it through different lens. and the thing is that if you conflate the two things and start emulating characters past the age of four then you have a problem distinguishing the two things and you need to get over it/get help/whatever, because to everyone else it’s normal to see the world through fiction or part of it. if you do because I know people who think fiction is merely fiction and don’t understand the point of relating to a character in the first place. 

so like tldr, fiction influences you as much as you let it and it’s something you use actively and that is there for everyone to interpret, but it can’t, just existing, influence anything especially because if no one reads it or watches it then it’s useless. and since most **problematic** stuff is consumed by people who actively look for it and know what they’re doing - again, no one reads tentacle porn on ao3 if they don’t like tentacle porn - you can’t say that by existing, incest fic or badwrong fic normalizes abuse, because it only does if you let it and if you don’t know what abuse is and you can’t recognize it for what it is. like, a piece of fiction doesn’t need to spell THIS IS WRONG for you to know that I dunno t/hramsay fanfic is not what you should want in a relationship, you have to know that, and that’s on you, not on something that’s not mass-consumption - because badwrong fic and stuff is usually written by badwrong fans for badwrong fans, not by hired disney writers for star wars movies that have to be good for children, adults, nerds and the mass audience at large.

you balance the two by knowing that badwrong stuff is wrong irl (and it’s not a stretch) and by looking at the world through the lenses of whatever not badwrong fiction you enjoy/like/relate to, which can also be badwrong of course (see the thor/loki rant above) but like the fact that it does it to us singularly doesn’t mean that all of a sudden THE ENTIRE WORLD IS INFLUENCED BY THE EXISTENCE OF FAKE THINGS.

nor that WE SHOULD PUT THAT MUCH IMPORTANCE on fake things, because one thing is all of the above, another is saying that a piece of media is trash because it doesn’t have the representation you want in it or thinking that since something exists in fiction then you won a social justice battle. again: fiction is a tool, it’s not the ending nor the beginning of anything. having more black people in media won’t be what stops black people go to jail in the US at a higher rate than white people for the same crimes, but it might help making people relate to someone who’s different and so normalize some stuff... if you watch/consume that media and choose to engage with it. (ie, brooklyn 99′s boss is a gay black man in a stable relationship with a white professor and it’s not what you usually see on tv and it will work for casual watchers, but I doubt someone who usually watches fox news then also watches b99 - you can’t win your wars through fiction, to convince the fox news watcher to not vote trump you have to talk to him and not show him a sitcom. and mind that this can be reversed ie all the anti-russian/islamic propaganda in the US which tends to normalize russians/muslims as The Bad Guy - it works along with other things, not just on its own) the key is in knowing that fiction is made by people and consumed by people and eventually begins and ends with the people who make it and consume it in whichever way, and not in thinking that it’s above us and is something divine that changes the world just by existing.

[seokjingiggles]

Full Speed Ahead

genre: fluff, angst

member: jimin

words: 2779

Wild animals can have bigger hearts than humans.

I had a lot of fun creating this and I would love to do more requests hehe :)

Again, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

What began as a minor quarrel at dinner escalated into a monstrous fit of yelling, insulting, and slamming doors within minutes. You were enjoying a romantic steak dinner with your boyfriend when you brought up “the topic” for the millionth time this week.

“Jimin, it's not that I think you don't love me anymore. It's just that you leave before I even wake up and come home an hour before I fall asleep. I literally have you for just an hour a day. I'm your girlfriend, aren't I? Don't I deserve a little more of Park Jimin than your stupid band?”

Being needy was one thing, but bashing his best friends was something Jimin could not and would not tolerate. Ever.

Jimin abruptly stood up from his chair, not bothering to push it back in. He glared at you with stone cold eyes as he stormed closer to you.

“Call them stupid one more time.” His voice sliced through the air.

You knew you were getting into dangerous territory, but to be honest, you were tired of his bullshit and stubborn enough to not consider what you were getting yourself into. 

“If you think seven boys singing a bunch of lousy songs for eleven year old girls is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, then yes. Your band is very stupid.” You crossed your arms in defense to conclude your first move.

Fury flashed across his already flaming expression. He menacingly hovered above you and stuck a finger in your face, just inches from your widened eyes. Maybe you were going overboard.

“You don't think I try to come home sooner? You don't think I work my ass off in that practice room so I have more time to be with you? You don't think the company hates me for lying about sick days? You don't think the fans despise me because of you? I go through a lot of shit for you, Y/N. And if you’re stupid enough to not realize that and be thankful, then you can leave. I've only been good to you. What have I gotten in return? Nothing.”

You pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him away. He was exaggerating things just so he could be right. He was trying to put all the blame on you and it was time to defend yourself. You smacked his finger out of your face. Jimin looked as if steam was spewing out of his ears.

You narrowed your eyes and snarled, “Are you fucking blind? I iron your clothes, wash the dishes, clean the house, do the laundry, buy the groceries, make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, take out the trash, wash the windows, vacuum the floors, and I even bring you homemade lunch every day! I call your parents when you’re disgusting enough to not want to talk to them. You haven’t seen them in two years and your mother cries every time she calls because she misses you. She asks me how you’ve been but I can never tell her the truth. I don’t even know myself and I fucking live with you! I guess I’m the servant of the house based on how you’re treating me. Definitely not your girlfriend that shares a life with you. Next time, I’ll tell your mom that you’re doing just fine. Neglecting your family, spending all of our money, wrecking the house, staying up late doing who knows what. Yeah, she’ll definitely appreciate that from the son she worries so much about.” You were breathing hard and Jimin’s chest was heaving from bottled up anger. He was smoldering and you didn’t want to hear any more of his bullshit excuses. You walked straight past him and locked the bedroom door behind you, making sure to slam it hard enough to make the chandelier tremble. You stood with your back against the door. Rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hands, you knew you had taken it too far. 

Jimin’s hasty footsteps thrashed towards the bedroom. The door shook as he pounded a fist against it.

Clearing his throat he snarled, “You've always been a slutty, needy bitch. I can't even remember the last time I enjoyed having sex with you. Hell, I despise kissing you. You talk about Jungkook way too much to “just be friends.” I've seen how you look at him. I've seen how your eyes glide across his muscles. I’ve seen how you shamelessly bite your lip when he talks to you. You never look at me that way anymore...And you're telling me you miss me? I'm such a dumbass for ever believing in your bullshit. You never loved me and I wasted so much time and money on you. I deserve better than scum. Get the fuck out of my life. I can't even breathe right knowing I'm in the same building as you. Go fuck yourself.”

And with that, he grabbed his coat and left the apartment, shutting the door with enough force to make the entire apartment quake. You jolted as a picture of Jimin and you fell and shattered on the ground. That was the first Christmas present you had ever given him. Your back slid down the door until your butt plopped on the floor. The tears you had been holding back for the past few weeks had finally defeated you. You sobbed loudly into your hands, wailing apologies and yelling at yourself for being so selfish and vile. You felt enraged and hurt. This was really it. Jimin had left for good this time. His piercing words lingered and made your head throb. He was right. He didn’t deserve you. He deserved someone who understood his busy schedule and accepted him for who he was. You felt sick to your stomach and ran to the toilet to retch in the bowl. You winced when you saw your complexion in the mirror. Your makeup was smeared all over the place, your hair was a tangled wreck, and your eyes were red from bawling tremendously. You had to avert your gaze from the mirror, too disgusted in yourself. 

It was time to move on.

You didn’t want to be this person any longer. You didn’t want to be the girl always waiting for someone else. You wanted to be with someone who wanted you, who needed you. You wanted to share love with someone so strong that nothing could wear it down. Park Jimin wasn’t that someone.

You packed a hefty duffel bag with various clothes and possessions. This time, you didn’t bother to wash the dishes or clean up the broken glass from the picture frame. The last thing you did before you left the apartment was write Mrs. Park’s phone number on a piece of paper that you stuck to the fridge. Jimin never bothered to save his own mother’s contact in his phone.

As you waited for a cab to pick you up, you took several long, deep breaths. You had no idea what the hell you were doing. You didn’t have any family in the city and most of your friends were also friends of Jimin’s. You didn’t want anything to do with him right now so you were on your own. You checked the time on your phone. It was getting pretty late and the city wasn’t getting any warmer. You rubbed your hands together as you saw two beams of a car’s headlights scythe through the air. Your cab arrived.

“Hello there. Do you need any help with your bags?” the driver said as he turned his head to face you.

“No, no. I’m fine, thank you.” You placed your duffel bag next to you and let your hands rest in your lap.

The cab driver sensed your weary tension and smiled kindly. “Alrighty then. Where to this late at night?” 

You hadn’t thought this far yet. Looking through the window at the moon, you concluded that you would figure everything out in the morning. “Just get me away from here. I don’t care,” you murmured and rested your head against the window.

The man sighed and started the engine. He seemed nice enough. You hoped he wouldn’t ask anymore questions about you.

The ride commenced with ease. You closed your eyes and set your mind free. You ignored the pestering responsible portion of your brain that refused to stop blaring at you to go back. You fell asleep, careless of everything, ignorant of the world around you, and oblivious to Park Jimin.

Within an hour, Jimin was back at your shared apartment. He originally had planned to see his friends, go out for drinks, and not worry about the next step. But when he pulled into their dorm’s driveway, he realized that he had taken your car keys on accident. His fingers fondled with the pink Apeach character keychain he gave you for Christmas three years ago. Jimin was pretty terrible at giving sentimental gifts, but you loved his first Christmas present all the same.

What the hell am I doing? She must be devastated. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have said those things. What is wrong with me? 

Jimin bolted home and scurried up the stairs to the third floor of the apartment complex. He was already crying imagining how hurt you must have been. He felt so shitty for everything he had said, everything he had done. Unlocking the door and bursting in, Jimin said, “Y/N, I’m so so so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean any of it...Y/N? Where are you? Y/N??” 

His hands were shaking as he turned the knob to your bedroom. You weren’t there and all of your clothes were missing. Not wanting to believe what was happening, Jimin tore through every room, every closet, searched behind every door, ran down the hallways asking the neighbors if they saw you, and called all of his friends begging to tell him where you were. He trudged back to his apartment empty-handed and crying. He lost you. You were gone and you were never coming back. Jimin messily ran his fingers through his hair and screamed your name at the top of his lungs with no response. He stomped his feet and dug his nails into his arms in frustration. Why did he do it? Why did he spit out such horrid lies at you? Why was he such a ravaging beast? You were right. Jimin didn’t care about anyone. He wasn’t considerate of his actions and he didn’t have the heart to tell his mom he was dying on the inside because he had so much love to give you but with so little time each day. He didn’t know how to tell you that he was tired. Tired of having to put on a smile everyday to please his fans. Tired of leaving when it’s still dark out and coming home just to kiss you goodnight. He hated putting you in this situation. You deserved so much more than what he could offer. And now, he couldn’t give you anything.

Jimin collected himself enough to sit down and text you. He couldn’t pour out his heart through texts but he tried anyway. He left you hundreds of texts and voice messages confessing things that he was too shy to say aloud. You didn’t respond. His heart broke at the realization that he was nothing to you anymore.

You woke up to the screeching of tires and your head almost hitting the car seat in front of you. You yelped in shock as you saw what made the cab stop so abruptly. Two deer, a male and a female, jumped, just feet away from the vehicle. You watched in awe as the male deer licked his mate’s ear as she searched him for wounds. Seconds later, they scurried off the road and into the darkness. Ironically, it was the most humane behavior you had witnessed today. They looked out for each other. The animals blindly ran into the road, unknowing and naive, and mercilessly faced death. But it didn’t matter because they did it together. They shared a bond so intimate that they were willing to risk it all for their love. They suffered together and cleaned each other’s wounds. And in the end, they ran off, untouched, and even more in love.

You checked your phone.

479 texts and 24 missed calls from Park Jimin

He loved you, and you loved him.

“Stop the car!” you hissed, hot tears forming around your eyes.

The driver swiftly hit the brakes and turned to face you. He was grinning, as if he knew what you were about to request.

“I’m sorry, but can you take me back to where you picked me up? I don’t know where we are and I wanna go home. I love him and miss him and wanna kiss and hug him. I wanna  be in his arms and cuddle up until we fall asleep, his hand around my waist and my hand stroking his hair. I wanna see him again and tell him how much I regret saying all those things and leaving him. I wanna forget about all this and start over. I wanna tell him everything’s okay and that his mom loves him. I wanna be with him forever and the thought of him being alone, thinking that no one wants him will kill me unless I see him again. Take me home.”

The poor driver blinked with wide eyes. In his twenty-three years of working as a taxi driver, he had never seen a girl empty her heart teeming with that much love before. He spun the car around and raced home, full speed ahead.

You thanked the driver and handed him whatever cash you had on you. You bustled out of the car and practically threw yourself into the apartment complex. If you didn’t get to him soon, your heart was going to burst.

You fumbled with the keys in your sweaty hands. They slipped and you reached down to get them. As you crouched down, you heard crying from the other side of the door. Hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath. What did you do in your past life to deserve Jimin? You started the fight that made him decompose.

You heard his faint, quivering whispers from inside. “Why, God...I’m begging you. Y/N. Please come back. I can’t live without you. I can’t...”

You found yourself inside the living room, walking as fast as you could, beelining towards him. His face was in his hands and his shoulders were shaking. His toes were curled and his disheveled hair stuck out in all directions. He looked up at the sound of the creaking floorboards. Jimin’s face was red and blotchy. You shrunk at the sight of his condition.

Unsure if you were really standing in front of him, Jimin hesitated and stood up quickly. He wiped his nose and made desperate eye contact with you. Your eyes watered.

“I’m sorry,” you both uttered at the same time.

You paced towards him and clutched his hands. “Jimin, it was my fault. I had no right to confront you about something I know you can’t do anything about. I was just frustrated and lonely because I barely get to see you anymore. What the hell was I thinking walking out on you like that? You must’ve been worried sick. My heart aches just imagining you sitting here by yourself crying, thinking that you fucked up, even though I’m the one to blame.” You searched deep into his eyes, your look telling him things you couldn’t muster to say.

He squeezed your hands and replied in a raspy voice. “I didn’t do any better by screaming at you like that. The shit I said was cruel and unfair. I didn’t consider how and why you were feeling so alone. I’ll talk to the company and try to change the schedule. I’ve always wanted to see you more. I would drop everything just to be with you. And when you disappeared, I felt like I was going to die. My life lost purpose. Everything around me crumbled because I thought I lost you,” he whimpered as he gathered you into a hug.

“But you didn’t. I’m not gonna let you lose me. Never again.” You snuggled up to him, placing your ear against his chest. You felt his heart thump steadily and your lips curved into a smile. His cologne had worn off and his musky scent swaddled you.

You were glad to be home.

Uhh I was nOT expecting the rebranding yesterday !!! They’re really growing up now :”))))

Tyvm for requesting and reading! Accepting requests/asks! ❤️

[djnimbin]

The Days Between

This is a letter Robert Hunter wrote to Jerry Garcia a year after his passing.

Dear JG,

it's been a year since you shuffled off the mortal coil and a lot has happened. It might surprise you to know you made every front page in the world. The press is still having fun, mostly over lawsuits challenging your somewhat ...umm... patchwork Last Will and Testament. Annabelle didn't get the EC horror comic collection, which I think would piss you off as much as anything. Nor could Dough Irwin accept the legacy of the guitars he built for you because the tax-assessment on them, icon-enriched as they are, is more than he can afford short of selling them off. The upside of the craziness is: your image is selling briskly enough that your estate should manage something to keep various wolves from various familial doors, even after the lawyers are paid. How it's to be divided will probably fall in the hands of the judge. An expert on celebrity wills said in the news that yours was a blueprint on how not to make a will.

The band decided to call it quits. I think it's a move that had to be made. You weren't exactly a sideman. But nothing's for certain. Some need at least the pretense of retirement after all these years. Can they sustain it? We'll see.

I'm writing this from England, by the way. Much clarity of perspective to be had from stepping out of the scene for a couple of months. What isn't so clear is my own role, but it's really no more problematic than it has been for the last decade. As long as I get words on paper and can lead myself to believe it's not bullshit, I'm roughly content. I'm not exactly Mr. Business.

I decided to get a personal archive together to stick on that stagnating computer site we had. Really started pouring the mustard on. I'm writing, for crying out loud, my diary on it! Besides running my ego full tilt (what's new?) I'm trying to give folks some skinny on what's going down. I don't mean I'm busting the usual suspects left and right, but am giving a somewhat less than cautious overview and soapboxing more than a little. They appointed me webmaster, and I hope they don't regret it.

There are those in the entourage who quietly believe we're washed up without you. Even should time and circumstance prove it to be so, we need to believe otherwise long enough to get some self sustaining operations going, or we'll never know for sure. It's matter of self respect. Maybe it's a long shot, but this whole fucking trip was a longshot from the start, so what else is new?

Your funeral service was one hell of a scene. Maureen and I took Barbara and Sara in and sat with them. MG waited over at our place. Manasha and Keelan were also absent. None by choice. Everybody from the band said some words and Steve, especially, did you proud, speaking with great love and candor. Annabelle got up and said you were a genius, a great guy, a wonderful friend, and a shitty father - which shocked part of the contingent and amused the rest. After awhile the minister said that that was enough talking, but I called out, from the back of the church, "Wait, I've got something!" and charged up the aisle and read this piece I wrote for you, my voice and hands shaking like a leaf. Man, it was weird looking over and seeing you dead!

A slew of books have come out about you and more to follow. Perspective is lacking. It's way too soon. You'd be amazed at the number of people with whom you've had a nodding acquaintance who are suddenly experts on your psychology and motivations. Your music still speaks louder than all the BS: who you were, not the messes you got yourself into. Only a very great star is afforded that much inspection and that much forgiveness.

There was so much confusion on who should be allowed to attend the scattering of your ashes that they sat around for four months. It was way too weird for this cowboy who was neither invited nor desirous of going. I said good-bye with my poem at the funeral service. It was cathartic and I didn't need an anti-climax.

A surreal sidelight: Weir went to India and scattered a handful of your ashes in the Ganges as a token of your worldwide stature. He took a lot of flak from the fans for it, which must have hurt. A bunch of them decided to scapegoat him, presumably needing someplace to misdirect their anger over the loss of you. In retrospect, I think Weir was hardest hit of the old crowd by your death. I take these things in my stride, though I admit to a rough patch here and there. But Bob took it right on the chin. Shock was written all over his face for a long time, for any with eyes to see.

Some of the guys have got bands together and are doing a tour. The fans complain it's not the same without you, and of course it isn't, but a reasonable number show up and have a pretty good time. The insane crush of the latter day GD shows is gone and that's all for the best. From the show I saw, and reports on the rest, the crowd is discovering that the sense of community is still present, matured through mutual grief over losing you. This will evolve in more joyous directions over time, but no one's looking to fill your shoes. No one has the presumption.

Been remembering some of the key talks we had in the old days, trying to suss what kind of a tiger we were riding, where it was going, and how to direct it, if possible. Driving to the city once, you admitted you didn't have a clue what to do beyond composing and playing the best you could. I agreed - put the weight on the music, stay out of politics, and everything else should follow. I trusted your musical sense and you were good enough to trust my words. Trust was the whole enchilada, looking back.

Walking down Madrone Canyon in Larkspur in 1969, you said some pretty mindblowing stuff, how we were creating a universe and I was responsible for the verbal half of it. I said maybe, but it was your way with music and a guitar that was pulling it off. You said "That's for now. This is your time in the shadow, but it won't always be that way. I'm not going to live a long time, it's not in the cards. Then it'll be your turn." I may be alive and kicking, but no pencil pusher is going to inherit the stratosphere that so gladly opened to you. Recalling your statement, though, often helped keep me oriented as my own star murked below the horizon while you streaked across the sky of our generation like a goddamned comet!

Though my will to achieve great things is moderated by seeing what comes of them, I've assigned myself the task of trying to honor the original vision. I'm not answerable to anybody but my conscience, which, if less than spotless, doesn't keep me awake at night. Maybe it's best, personally speaking, that the power to make contracts and deal the remains of what was built through the decades rests in other hands. I wave the flag and rock the boat from time to time, since I believe much depends on it, but will accept the outcome with equanimity.

Just thought it should be said that I no longer hold your years of self inflicted decline against you. I did for awhile, felt ripped off, but have come to understand that you were troubled and compromised by your position in the public eye far beyond anyone's powers to deal with. Star shit. Who can you really trust? Is it you or your image they love? No one can understand those dilemmas in depth except those who have no choice but to live them. You whistled up the whirlwind and it blew you away. Your substance of choice made you more malleable to forces you would have brushed off with a characteristic sneer in earlier days. Well, you know it to be so. Let those who pick your bones note that it was not always so.

So here I am, writing a letter to a dead man, because it's hard to find a context to say things like this other than to imagine I have your ear, which of course I don't. Only to say that what you were is more startlingly apparent in your absence than ever it was in the last decade. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the hospital through the days of your first coma. Not being related, I wasn't allowed into the intensive care unit to see you until you came to and requested to see me. And there you were - more open and vulnerable than I'd ever seen you. You grasped my hand and began telling me your visions, the crazy densely packed phantasmagoria way beyond any acid trip, the demons and mechanical monsters that taunted and derided, telling you endless bad jokes and making horrible puns of everything - and then you asked, point blank, "Have I gone insane?" I said "No, you've been very sick. You've been in a coma for days, right at death's door. They're only hallucinations, they'll go away. You survived." "Thanks," you said. "I needed to hear that."

Your biographers aren't pleased that I don't talk to them, but how am I to say stuff like this to an interviewer with an agenda? I sometimes report things that occur to me about you in my journal, as the moment releases it, in my own way, in my own time, and they can take what they want of that.

Obviously, faith in the underlying vision which spawned the Grateful Dead might be hard to muster for those who weren't part of the all night rap sessions circa 1960-61 ... sessions that picked up the next morning at Kepler's bookstore then headed over to the Stanford cellar or St. Mike's to continue over coffee and guitars. There were no hippies in those days and the beats had bellied up. There was only us vs. 50's consciousness. There no jobs to be had if we wanted them. Just folk music and tremendous dreams. Yeah, we dreamed our way here. I trust it. So did you. Not so long ago we wrote a song about all that, and you sang it like a prayer. The Days Between. Last song we ever wrote.

Context is lost, even now. The sixties were a long time ago and getting longer. A cartoon version of our times satisfies public perception. Our continuity is misunderstood as some sort of strange persistence of an outmoded style. Beads, bell bottoms and peace signs. But no amount of pop cynicism can erase the suspicion, in the minds of the present generation, that something was going on once that was better than what's going on now. And I sense that they're digging for "what it is" and only need the proper catalyst to find it for themselves. Your guitar is like a compass needle pointing the strange way there. I'm wandering far afield from the intention of this letter, a year's report, but this year wasn't made up only of events following your death in some roughly chronological manner. It reached down to the roots of everything, shook the earth off, and inspected them. The only constant is the fact that you remain silent. Various dances are done around that fact.

Don't misconstrue me, I don't waste much time in grief. Insofar as you were able, you were an exponent of a dream in the continual act of being defined into a reality. You had a massive personality and talent to present it to the world. That dream is the crux of the matter, and somehow concerns beauty, consciousness and community. We were, and are, worthy insofar as we serve it. When that dream is dead, there'll be time enough for true and endless grief.

John Kahn died in May, same day Leary did. Linda called 911 and they came over and searched the house, found a tiny bit of coke and carted her off to jail in shock. If the devil himself isn't active in this world, there's sure something every bit as mean: institutional righteousness without an iota of fellow feeling. But, as I figure, that's the very reason the dream is so important - it's whatever is the diametric opposite of that. Human kindness.

Trust me that I don't walk around saying "this was what Jerry would have wanted" to drive my points home. What you wanted is a secret known but to yourself. You said 'yes' to what sounded like a good idea at the time, 'no' to what sounded like a bad one. I see more of what leadership is about, in the absence of it. It's an instinct for good ideas. An aversion to bad ones. Compromise on indifferent ones. Power is another matter. Power is not leadership but coercion. People follow leaders because they want to.

I know you were often sick and tired of the conflicting demands made on you by contentious forces you invited into your life and couldn't as easily dismiss. You once said to me, in 1960, "just say yes to everybody and do what you damn well want." Maybe, but when every 'yes' becomes an IOU payable in full, who's coffer is big enough to pay up? "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke!" would be a characteristic reply. Unfortunately, you're not around to explain what was a joke and what wasn't. It all boils down to signed pieces of paper with no punch lines appended.

I know what I'm saying in this letter can be taken a hundred ways. As always, I just say what occurs to me to say and can't say what doesn't. Could I write a book about you? No. Didn't know you well enough. Let those who knew you even less write them. You were canny enough to keep your own self to yourself and let your fingers do the talking. Speaking of 'personal matters' was never your shtick.

Our friendship was testy. I challenged you rather more than you liked, having a caustic tongue. In later years you preferred the company of those capable of keeping it light and non-judgmental. I think it must always be that way with prominent and powerfully gifted persons. I don't say that, for the most part, your inner circle weren't good and true. They'd have laid down their lives for you. I'd have had to think about it. I mean, a star is a star is a star. There's no reality check. If the truth were known, you were too well loved for your own good, but that smacks of psychologizing and I drop the subject forthwith

All our songs are acquiring new meanings. I don't deny writing with an eye to the future at times, but our mutual folk, blues and country background gave us a mutual liking for songs that dealt with sorrow and the dark issues of life. Neither of us gave a fuck for candy coated shit, psychedelic or otherwise. I never even thought of us as a "pop band." You had to say to me one day, after I'd handed over the Eagle Mall suite, "Look, Hunter - we're a goddamn dance band, for Christ's sake! At least write something with a beat!" Okay. I handed over Truckin' next. How was I to know? I thought we were silver and gold; something new on this Earth. But the next time I tried to slip you the heavy stuff, you actually went for it. Seems like you'd had the vision of the music about the same time I had the vision of the words, independently. Terrapin. Shame about the record, but the concert piece, the first night it was played, took me about as close as I ever expect to get to feeling certain we were doing what we were put here to do. One of my few regrets is that you never wanted to finish it, though you approved of the final version I eked out many years later. You said, apologetically, "I love it, but I'll never get the time to do it justice." I realized that was true. Time was the one thing you never had in the last decade and a half. Supporting the Grateful Dead plus your own trip took all there was of that. The rest was crashing time. Besides, as you once said, "I'd rather toss cards in a hat than compose." But man, when you finally got down on it, you sure knew how.

The pressure of making regular records was a creative spur for a long time, but poor sales put the economic weight on live concerts where new material wasn't really required, so my role in the group waned. A difficult time for me, being at my absolute peak and all. I had to go on the road myself to make a living. It was good for me. I developed a sense of self direction that didn't depend on the Dead at all. This served well for the songs we were still to write together. You sure weren't interested in flooding the market. You knew one decent song was worth a dozen cobbled together pieces of shit, saved only by arrangement. I guess we have a few of those too, but the percentage is respect ably low. Pop songs come and go, blossom and wither, but we scored a piece of Americana, my friend. Sooner or later, they'll notice what we did doesn't die the way we do. I've always believed that and so did you. Once in awhile we'd even call each other "Mister" and exchange congratulations. Other people are starting to record those songs now, and they stand on their own.

For some reason it seems worthwhile to maintain the Grateful Dead structures: Rex, the website, GDP, the deadhead office, the studio ... even with the band out of commission. I don't know if this is some sort of denial that the game is finished, or if the intuitive impulse is a sound one. I feel it's better to have it than not, just in case, because once it's gone there's no bringing it back. The forces will disperse and settle elsewhere. A business that can't support itself is, of course, no business at all, just a locus of dissension, so the reality factor will rule. Diminished as we are without you, there is still some of the quick, bright spirit around. I mean, you wouldn't have thrown in your lot with a bunch of belly floppers, would you?

Let me see - is there anything I've missed? Plenty, but this seems like a pretty fat report. You've been gone a year now and the boat is still afloat. Can we make it another year? What forms will it assume? It's all kind of exciting. They say a thousand years are only a twinkle in God's eye. Is that so?

Missing you in a longtime way RH

[buffpeasoup]

Part 2

I’m laying here on vacation and I can’t sleep. I think about you a lot sometimes. I’m sorry I lost it a few weeks ago. It’s been so hard to be alone and for the first time I live alone too. It really magnified things. I really was in love again when we were together. Something I didn’t think was possible. I’m in love with you now. I’ll probably put you in that cliche “the one who got away” category in my mind. But at least there was something. I guess it was one sided because of how I treated you but boy oh boy did I love you. I’m sorry for putting you through what I did when we were together, I’ve said it a dozen times but I am sorry. I wasn’t ready to be with anyone. I had just let loose for the first time in almost 10 years and I wasn’t careful. I was loyal and devoted to someone for so long and it got me nothing but pain in return. My self esteem was at zero and I hadn’t recovered. You can’t love someone else when you don’t love yourself. Sounds like another cliche but it’s definitely true. I’m sorry for how I acted after too. I remember breaking up with Alicia and knowing I didn’t love her and she kept trying to make it work because she wouldn’t let go. I imagine that’s how you feel. It was hard for me then it hurt me tremendously to watch her be in pain because I loved her just not that way. I didn’t speak to her for awhile because I knew she would just try and fix it or be with me and I knew I didn’t want that and it would be shitty to give her hope and lead her on. It’s hard to put myself in that position and understand how you feel because I didn’t want to accept that you’re not in love with me.

I get extra upset about everything because I’m going to be 30 soon! And it’s funny I never thought like this before but I feel like I’m getting old. I want to be a dad and have a family so bad. It really upset me because I know you’ll be a great mom and I really saw a family with you differently than all the other stupid girls I have dated. Yes I wanted that with previous girlfriends but it was like just a far off thought like one day and again the love I felt for those people distorted reality for me and made me overlook the fact that those women sucked and that they wouldn’t make good moms and that our relationship would fail apart and like what a shitty excuse for bringing a human being into the world. What because I couldn’t see that your mom sucked and I love too hard like hey now you live in a broken home and your mom constantly lets you down. Again funny because I think that way about my dad. My mom did great and I constantly will say why is that my dad, like why didn’t you pick someone that could raise me up lol. But anyway with you I saw strength and I saw more than just the love I felt for you. I saw like the mother of my children and it was incredibly hard to know I had that and lost it. I would have been honored if you married me and we had children. It would have done my kids Justice to make you their mother.

I know you have the fight of your life going on with school too and that it’s even harder to compartmentalize emotions when you’re dealing with life and trying to better yourself. I do know how much it means to you. If I remember from listening to you, (yes I do listen when you talk!) you said you didn’t try that much in high school. I imagine getting through nursing school is how you fix that for yourself and feel like you’re capable of something. I know you also appreciate all that your father does and that doing well with this and making something of yourself is how you repay him. Trust me I get it. It’s why I love you. Not because you’re gorgeous or because you’re so sweet. Because you can wake up looking like a monster and you can be a real jerk. I was going to write bitch but I actually took that from dating you. That’s not how you talk to anyone especially not someone you love. How fucked up was I that it was normal for me? I wish I could honestly thank you for teaching me that. And I’m truly sorry for having to learn with you. I’ve been in such intense long and unhealthy relationships I didn’t even realize how shitty it was because I had never been with someone that didn’t tolerate it and that would never speak to me that way. I love you because you have a conscience and you do the right thing. Breaking up with me was the right thing. It would have just been more fighting and being unhappy and staying together for love. That’s not good enough. There has to be more and really neither of us were doing it for each other. I think you shut down because of me and I figured it out too late after I had hurt you too much. It’s just that simple. Honestly I was mad that someone could walk away and see that because I couldn’t do it myself. I let someone take me down into the mud and destroy me too. Funny how I can know that and expect you to do the same.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I always thought it helps me to write things down instead of keeping the racing thoughts bouncing around my head and distracting me. It’s also nice to write this stuff when I feel like I’m thinking clearly so I can look at it in the future when I’m having a weak moment and feeling incredibly depressed and lonely. Like ok Chris you feel terrible but remember this because the feeling will pass and this is what you know is true

Ps I found this sign and I think it’s part of why I had to write this before I freaked out so maybe if I put it in here it will help me be ok. Yes a street sign with your name on it can just throw off a tropical vacation🙄

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

“Fanfic writer asks”: Skipping the “asks” and doing the answers!

I just saw this and I’m too excited to wait for someone to see this, decide what to ask, and I wanted to answer all of them, anyways.

Some of these are fill-in-the-blanks for askers, so I can’t answer them. But if anyone wants elaboration, or wants to know a specific something in regards to a particular story, or character: Absolutely, feel free to send me some!

Questions taken from here: http://criminal-minds-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/172926526725

--

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? Oh geez, we practically need a time machine for that. I was only 11 or 12! I started "writing" fanfics with my action figures (guest-starring other childhood toys) as far back as I can remember. Literally, from the time I was 5-8 and obsessed with Pokemon and Yoshi's Story and Powerpuff Girls, I was playing out stories and adventures, from beginning to end, imagining backstories for why they're there, what they were doing, what motivated them. They even came with continuity (from one play-session to the next)!

As for actually writing it down, though... That also started Very Early. I think I must've been 11 or 12? The earliest one I ever dated was 2005, anyway. They were descriptive, illustrating actions to display emotions, and characterization was... well, it Sure Existed (even if it varied from "So Wrong", to Definitely the Right Remark).

But ever since the moment I touched a pen to my first fanfic notebook, it was about my OCs (and Raven, because, surprise surprise, she was my favorite to write about). I've had plot since I first took those Crayola twistables to paper to illustrate the story in my head, the first story I ever Had a Solid Plot For (that is, Mystery Sickness-- which is being rewritten with Actual Explanations, re: Why Dove Made Her Feel So Shitty in the first place): that was also in 2005. (Fun fact: it was originally in Poorly-Drawn Comic Form). The actual "novelization" went through to 2007.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? As my fanfiction.net profile will tell you: "Author has written 32 stories for Teen Titans, Pokémon, and Ruby Gloom." - The Ruby Gloom fanfic was abandoned, unfortunately. (It was a direct and shameless self-insert, that got abandoned because, quite frankly, I had no idea what to do with it. Maybe I should put it up for adoption at this point...) - A Work of Magic (my Pokemon fanfic, with related bios/etc) gets written for very rarely, because the inspiration to do so is rare and sporadic, and more tied to a Specific Scene I want to write, than where I left off in the story. @w@;; - A Steven Universe fanfic is in the works, though I'm struggling to flesh it out.. due to the Aforementioned Preoccupation with The FAVE MOMENTS, moreso than the backstory and movement through those moments. @D;;

And then, you have the Teen Titans stories. You know, the ones with Dove, and Kary, and Srentha, and Leyla will eventually be there. My most precious, dearly beloved, absolutely irreplaceable OCs. My TT story folder has about 100 files, which belong to about 30 full-length stories. (And that's not counting the oneshots, like Heart to Heart, which is still one of the best things I've ever written.) There are also a few poems here and there, particularly Dove's Prophecy (of self-fulfillment, really), and stories illustrating Dove's childhood, her mother/grandmother's past, Srentha's childhood... There's just Quite A Lot! I've been doing this, writing them, for 12+ years.~ And my fandomatic obsession for Teen Titans has never dulled, quieted, or been forgotten. So yes, I definitely do have a "particular" favorite. I may prefer exploring their world through my OCs, but damn, is it more FUN than any other world to explore!

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer. Ah, you can probably tell it's OCs by now. At least, MY OC's. Someone else's OCs, well, I tried that once, they were going to commission me. But I never got it finished. (I just didn't have quite the same connection. And I didn't know the canon; that can't have helped.) But character I *do* get to know, like my girlfriend's OCs in our collaborations (or characters I got to know so well through playing together that I just totally shamelessly adopted, specifically: Kary), I do enjoy writing for~ There's just something so incredibly special in knowing that you, solely, are responsible for their growth, their development, and their well-being. It's a bit like having kids, without the screaming. (At least, without them screaming in your ear. Dove and Kary have both done their fair share of screaming, come to think of it...)

( (( Although, to be fair: I've never tried writing a writer insert. I doubt anyone would actually WANT to endure the stories I put my characters through... ;P )) )

4) What is your favourite genre to write for? Fantasy? Action/Adventure? It's hard to say, because I actually write for a HUGE variety of Genres. But I guess my favorite, if I can encompass all of them under this one umbrella, would have to be Hurt/Comfort.

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why? DAMN IT, DON'T DO THIS TO ME.

Gods, that's hard! Basically ALL of my stories are multi-chaptered... Well, it's definitely one of my Teen Titans stories. DDD has definitely been the most challenging to write, the most fulfilling to finish chapters on, and the most pivotal point in Dove's life, so it will always hold a special place in my heart. Writing for Azar in "The Final Journey" and Dove taking her first unintended steps into heroism has been so personally touching for me, and it does so much good for Dove, and especially her relationship with the team, that it's just so, so special to watch. Something Special About Srentha is probably my most epic multi-faceted story, and the narrative timeline (handling two very distinct and separate struggles in totally separate places) is really challenging me to grow as a writer. "Continuum Wars" is going to be the grandest scale of struggle and magic, so I'm really especially excited to start figuring it out. It is just so, so HARD to decide on ONE; they're all so special, and I love watching my style evolve with each story, and more than anything, watching my characters come out of these situations alive. lD;;

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why? you mean the Teen Titans and Pokemon crossover where Dove brings home a Misdreavus? been there, done that. Honestly though, every single one of my stories has its place in my characters' lives, and is important for continuity. And personal growth. And I've honestly never been ashamed of something I've written.

(If you travel far back enough in my fanfic archive, you WILL find a really old character bio for Dove, which I completely revamped, because I didn't learn until later how to frame her without comparing her to Raven, even though she's always been a very different and independently-extant character. Also, the bits I learned about Being Kept A Secret and her grandmother's exile were Nearly Learned around 2010, 2012...)

7) When is your preferred time to write? Whenever the inspiration bug bites! ASAP!! But as for general adding and editing, it's fairly late at night, usually~ Sometimes afternoons. Usually an hour or more after eating, and especially when it's cool and quiet in the room.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from? Canon, personal experience (my personal struggles, my search for my identity, and my struggle to define myself), and sometimes even my own spirituality. (Wild shit goes down when you get into astral exploration, let me TELL you!)

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote? Can I just... use my personal favorite? (If you have any questions about a particular fic, or universe, or point in a character's life that didn't happen in the fics, let me know and I'll gladly answer!)

- Holy GOD, the climax scene of Dove's Dark Discovery! It takes place entirely in Dove's mindscape, while Dove's power is maxed out, and you've got a very powerful telepath and a TREMENDOUSLY power empath battling within a mindscape that has been slowly devastated over the past few months, and it's just this absolute EPIC culmination of their powers and, to a degree, even the connection they'd been forging since Dove came. Dove seriously oversteps some boundaries, Raven nearly kills Dove by accident, it's seriously crazy stuff.

Bonus: Way back in, like, probably 2008 or 2009, when titansgo.net was still around: I had asked my all-time favorite fanfic author for critique on the climax. His advice, to make it "three times as long and nine times the punch", absolutely inspired me to reach WAY higher with their fight, and once I realized what kind of mind-bending maelstrom shenanigans can go down in a MINDSCAPE, the scene fairly EXPLODED with potential!

And I especially like the fact that, including the revisions after his (entirely justified) advice: This scene has gone through like nine different incarnations. And my favorite part: It was originally inspired by a battle in the Teen Titans videogame! I think my little sister was playing White Raven (who my mind always read as Being Dove, because White Cape and Magic Powers), I was playing Raven, and the battle took place in "Nevermore", Raven's mindscape. It was actually a good fight. And I was fucking AMPED... But also emotionally RAVAGED, because "holy shit, Raven fighting Dove... in a mindscape......" And the scene happened like two days later. (In middle school. Honors Spanish class. As a note in the margins of my assignment notebook!)

Gods, guys. That scene is just so incredibly important, and it has come oh, so very far~

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind? I'm gonna answer one that I really like the ending of, but feel free to ask for others. Like, maybe one I've actually published, that you've actually read? 8F But honestly: Spellbound pt. II. I haven't published it yet... but it ends in absolute tragedy. The reason is twofold: First off, I knew Dove and Srentha were end-game, so although Dove was falling pretty deep into love, I couldn't have him hanging around... 8F But also because I wanted to illustrate the strength of sacrificial redemption. (I don't want to give too much away, because... well, that's the ENDING. But it's heart-wrenching and I can only hope I've done it justice.)

Other faves include: Srentha having heart-issues at the end of Something Special (because it's the Very First Symptom that something is going to be Dreadfully Wrong with him in the sequel), DDD ending with Dove absolutely traumatized and seriously hurt (because the following story is going to be all about her learning to Take Action on her pain, instead of hiding herself away), and A Work of Magic ending with everyone thinking Mistress had died trying to save her family... but the ending is, and the epicness kind of speaks for itself in this: "You can't kill a ghost."

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it? You mean like the way I completely rewrote Dove's character bio 6 years later, in response to all the accusations of her being a Mary Sue? Despite literally nothing (but more specific illustration) changing in the way I wrote her? 8F Other than that, absolutely not! I mean, if someone made a valid point I would. But nobody can tell me how to write my OCs, you know?

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why? My OCs. But you probably mean canon characters... and that easily comes down to Raven. She's just so layered, working with very inward, introspective mechanics, before she takes her action, usually in a very well-thought out direction, or sometimes an INSANELY emotional outburst, and either way, it tends to be Very Important, Poignant, and Make a Difference in the scene. I relate to her; I idolized her for the longest time; I know exactly how to write the struggle between not being able to express your emotions, and being true to yourself, because I've lived it. I'm an empath, so writing her empathic powers is always sort of therapeutic, because outside of my mirrorbook, I'd never gotten to EXPLORE that aspect of myself before. Her wit is hard to capture sometimes, I'll admit, but, I mean, I was making the nurses at the hospital laugh all the way up to my procedure, armed with nothing but my dry remarks. I think I'm up to the challenge.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why? Beast... Boy...... I'm sorry, I really am. I've just never been able to relate to him, or understand how his mind works (if it even works at all?), or write him into any of the plots-- outside of, like, trying to cheer Dove up, which is iconic and appreciated on Dove's end. But otherwise? What do I even DO with him? His sense of humor is just... so lowkey annoying that I sincerely cannot fathom why it's So Funny, let alone make it up for him. (Thankfully, at least the comics come in handy for exploring Why he's Like That, which has honestly helped a lot more than anything the show ever did. All but ONE of his episodes, were... pretty crack-tastic. And that just doesn't mesh well with my stories that are Trying to Deal with a Serious Issue Here.)

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories. Mostly, they're descriptive of the Most Iconic Thing, or Most Pivotal Plot Point, in the story! "Something Special About Srentha". "Dove's Dark Discovery". "Growing Up Demon: Leyla's Story". "Mystery Sickness", being renamed "Soul Sickness" for poetic value, but still keeping that iconic "Sickness" thing, while also making it More Relevant to Raven Specifically. The exception is probably "Unforeseen and Unforesaken". Yes, it's misspelled, I did that on purpose for visual balance in the title. It's weird. I know. But it's Intentional. (Still highly important things though, because it illustrates both Dove's arrival, and what happens once she's there, being unforeseen. And Dove absolutely hardcore valuing the team because they don't Forsake her.)

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names? Bold of you to assume I have this kind of CONTROL over them. Seriously, the way my writing works isn't so much "I get to decide what they do", and more like "huh, this Resonates. That must be a Thing... Let's try to seek out all the relevant details on why it happened, how they reacted, and how it ends!" It's like detective work. And this is absolutely best illustrated by trying to find Srentha's name. Because holy frick. What kinda name is that. (Turns out, it's literally in another language. 8F It means "flight", by the way! Onomatopoeia for the sound wings make.) Anyways, I literally found out one day that, "Dove tried to keep her pregnancy hidden... That must mean she had a kid. With someone." And thus began the Classic RHS Storytelling Search for "who's the guy?" And immediately I knew his name began with an "S". So I tried a bunch of names. I figured it was feminine-sounding, for some reason, thus I realized it ended in "-a". I knew it had two beats. Finding the "-ntha" was the easy part, it was figuring out how the heck to parse "Sren" into the right sounds and number of beats that was the REAL challenge. It wasn't until I remembered "Sri Lanka" exists that I figured out his entire name. (It's pronounced without the English "sh", though - it's just "Sren". As he says, "like Wren, with a Sss.")

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx? Mostly, they came to me when I was thinking about my characters' lives. Except The Final Journey, that one was based on "the crystals" my girlfriend illustrated Dove having in her room, and I kinda just took that entire concept and made it Azarathean and RAN with it!~ (If you're curious about any particular story, let me know!)

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on. "I killed six people. Do I deserve to die?" hello, this is your daily reminder that DDD absolutely Destroys Dove's self-image. But because it's So IMPORTANT and uhh, it was too Dark for me to leave that there, I also want to quote Raven's responses, which include "We all have our dark days," and "I do know that pain, that guilt. I know it better than anyone...[but] Solitary confinement won't cure it...[and] we don't want to see you leave." And also, "You won't be able to help anyone if you destroy yourself first."

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? Oh, stars. Let's see... The first "wip" I abandoned was a character I named "gayla", not knowing "gay" was actually a word, first of all, but her concept turned out to actually be part of Srentha's story, and honestly I should've figured out that "heh, same name as Raven's nursemaid" wasn't a thing. {lD (Whose name was actually Galya, by the way. I didn't realize that mistake for like, five years.)

I only so very RARELY abandon an actual story, though. I know there have been a couple of Moment Concepts I've lost, due to not writing them down; that honestly hurts much worse. ;; But there's the aforementioned Pokemon+TT crossover, where Dove brings home a Misdreavus by accident. That was purely self-indulgent, and it just didn't fit with the timeline, so I decided to stop writing that AU. It was really more that I wanted to focus on The Other Stories, and only had 3 short chapters planned. (The one where the little ghost gets herself stuck in Raven's mind had so much potential! But I didn't know how to write Raven's emoticlones in without Raven becoming aware of it. And now that I think about it, that could've been what got Dove to send her back.. But, eh, I've long lost the story file for it, and long LONG lost interest.)

If anyone tells you "A Work of Magic" is abandoned, they're wRONG, I'm just really, really caught up in Dove's struggle with DDD and Srentha and Steven Universe (even if I'm not really writing that fic most of the time), so my inspiration to write that story with As Much Lighthearted Fun Silliness as it deserves is seriously impaired. =w=;;

Oh, but I did kind of abandon the story from Sieara's point of view, because honestly, I'd rather just explore her through Dove. (That little bird gets plenty of epic spotlight moments; she even channels Azar's spirit at one point. Or two. ;P ) But mostly, I abandoned it because I didn't want to write about a bird being too old to reproduce, getting close to death, and then dying, anymore? (It was going to be about her noticing Dove spending more time with Srentha, Srentha's bird dying, and Sieara meeting Dove's daughter, and dying shortly after. But I... don't know, I didn't want to write that Angst without a Resolution.) I wrote that story for Exactly 1 Day, and then decided to stick to writing about her through Dove.

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to? I fully intend to do sequels to all of them, thank you very much.~ (At least for the TT fics, all of them are connected in some way. A Work of Magic has both a sequel and a prequel planned. And the Steven Universe fic is really only planned for One Conflict, I really don't want to explore it much beyond that singular unit of Canon Divergence.)

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently? That would be akin to lying, with the way my stories and my characters go.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire? thechroniclerjon, holy stars and envy batman. This is one writer who knows how to build a conflict, write magic in a way that's both Believable, and Relatable, and Awesome, and interweaves different plot threads into one rather EPIC confrontation. Obviously I couldn't take the element of religion into my stories, being so totally personally disconnected from it. (spirituality? ABSOLUTELY. Let me explore aLL the Azarathean feels!) But like. Those descriptions. The conversations. The build-up. The plot-twists. The raw emotion. I aspire, very much, to someday, in my own way, find a style that translates as much Excitement and Tension and Delight as his stories manage to convey.

Also, the author of Learning to Breathe Underwater, because that story had amazingly spot-on characterization, included so many canon elements (despite being Canon Divergent) while still having its own (very well escalated, incredibly well-executed!) plot! I write for the Teen Titans universe far more than Steven Universe, but I really admire their way of including basically every single character, giving them plenty of attention and growth, and giving a lot of them development in the process. I don't know if I could do that, but someday, I'd like to try.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it? The old Mystery Sickness. Like, the first version. It was, ah... originally what I now call an "emvent", and if you know what that is, great; if not, I don't want to go into details, but it's a story that helps me process my phobia? Which, geez, poor Raven okay, but what's really "cringe" about it is the way I narrated it in first-person. XD Weird metaphors, she had a Detective Noir tone for some reason, and let's just say there's a reason I never shared any of the panels. (I kept it secret because of the phobia. Equally as horrifying, I kept it in words because of the pictures.)

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? Silence, but I prefer gentle background noises I'm used to. (Like birds fluttering around, gentle aquarium filters and the water rippling, wind in the trees, etc. It's an ADD thing; lowkey background noise, if kept at a distance, helps me focus.)

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes? Eh. I have the Occasional Mood for it... like, once a year. 8P But generally, I'm just Not Interested. Sure, Dove and Srentha have... done some things that would entertain fans of the genre. And actually, some things that get borderline supernatural. But mostly, I'd just really rather be writing other things.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story? Oh, stars. Yes... Yes. Dove's Dark Discovery. (I drew on... an awful lot of personal experiences, and none of them were good.) Plus, her guilt and self-flagellating... let's just say it's a major Depression Mood. Also noteworthy: I cried writing the Death Sequence and farewell letter in Spellbound pt. II. I've cried for Dove's loss of Azarath, and her mother. I've cried for the things Dove and Srentha tell Leyla when she's really struggling (because, dear gods, if only I'd heard those words when I was a kid)... It doesn't happen often. But sometimes, it just... gets overwhelming.

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write? ASK ABOUT ANY OF THEm, because DEAR GODS, there are PLENTY. But the hardest of all was DDD. I struggled with describing how/why an Extremely Gentle, Timid Pacifist was suddenly Losing Herself to Internal Evil, and doing Terrible Things. I struggled to capture the IMMENSITY of the mindscape battle, both in how these two Incredibly Powerful Demi-demons were unleashing their powers, and also in how much of a personal toll it takes on BOTH of them afterwards. And now, I'm struggling to find the words for Dove in the aftermath, because... Gods, there's just so much turmoil and emotion. It echoes an awful lot of Seriously Dangerous Depression Thoughts, right down to suicide ideation and lashing out at the people she loves because she doesn't think she deserves them, and aren't they all fools for loving her. All I can say is thank god Raven's such a realistic beacon of hope, because (much like she did for me, come to think of it) she's able to help Dove battle those thoughts with reminders, wisdom, and hope.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? This one depends entirely on the story. Generally, it's really quite sporadic and incidental. I write out the scenes as they come to me (usually WAY out of order), and then figure out how they all fit together. Sometimes I don't even realize two scenes are in the same story at first! Or how they're related. I tend to write the beginning, several scenes from When Things Are Very Serious, then go back to fill in the blanks. A lot of times the climax happens either before I know how to start the story, before I know what led up to it, or before I know how it ends. (DDD began with the climax scene. Heart to Heart began with realizing Srentha had a heart attack as a child.)

And then other times, it begins with a vague concept, and I start writing right at the beginning. (Something Special was first written at the beginning, with Srentha performing a spell. I didn't know what it was going to do, just that it was Relevant. A Work of Magic started with me in the Pokemon world wanting a Misdreavus, and developed into a full-team adventure from there. Unforeseen and Unforesaken, or rather "Unforeseen Surprises" in its original form, starting with the very moment Dove showed up, was written as I went along, knowing which points I wanted to hit before the story was over, but writing the scenes as they came to me.)

A Work of Magic has a lot of travel scenes, and moments that take place in specific areas, with Specific Species, so I had to plan out a timeline from region to region, to make sure they weren't in Sinnoh one day, then encountering a Unova legendary, and battling a psychic type in a Kanto forest the very next day, you know? Then there's DDD, which is such a gradually PROGRESSING story that I definitely had to outline some of the chapters, too. Making sure Dove's gradually growing powers were highlighted, and she wasn't going from Total Telekinetic Failure to Suddenly Really Strong and Breaking The Entire Gym Room in the next scene. That sort of thing.

Either way, it's usually As I'm Writing that I notice the connections, the causes rooted in previous stories or scenes, and the Effects These Incidents Have as I'm writing it out. I always start with An Incident and A Concept, because I wouldn't have a story to write without it. But where it becomes Actual Scenes, and what order I write them, depends entirely on the order I discover them.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction? What a Mary Sue was supposed to be, and that Dove isn't what they claimed. That criticism that so many reviewers threw onto her bio wasn't at all helpful, I didn't know what that meant, let alone how to fix it, and I didn't know how to demonstrate that Dove wasn't, in fact, "entirely like Raven", because she had her own powerset, her own history, and her own personality. To be fair, a lot of the Highlights on Their Differences happen in later stories, and it's the initial shock of "why the frick is wearing those clothes and using that mantra", so of course on first impression, it's like. "Raven? similarities???" But... I don't know, it's just so very OBVIOUS to me that, unless we're talking about Timid!Raven (the emoticlone), their differences are so VAST. And I spent a lot of time, WASTED a lot of time, trying to kill the assumption. It really wasn't worth it.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like? DOVE'S! DARK! DISCOVERY!!! I nearly BROKE myself (both of time AND emotion) writing this thing! I understand that Some Friends can't Do Sadism, but like. This story is 250k words long, I've dumped a GREAT DEAL of my heart and soul into it, and Dove's plight seriously needs to be recognized to understand her growth moving forward. But! There! Are! So! Few! People! READING IT. The story has like 20 reviews on fanfic.net, BUT THE CLIMAX HASn'T GOTTEN ANY yet? ???? Please recognize the metaphorical blood, literal sweat, and literal tears I put into this. Gods. Yes I wish it got WAY more love.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? That poem from middle school, "The Raven and the Dove"? It's a neat poem, sure. Kind, of, a unique concept? But it's not very well explored, it just goes "here are their differences. They're opposites. But they get along." No explanation of how or why. (That's all in the fanfics.) It's not nearly as rhythmic as Dove's Prophecy, it's not clever, it's not plot-twisty, and as far as poetic cred goes, I don't think it's anything special. ? ?? I mean, somebody found it online, and contacted me via email, and it nearly got PUBLISHED. (But I would've had to pay them to include it in their book, which I wasn't down with.) I just don't understand, literally at all, why so many people really LIKE it.

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer) SEND ME FICS, I WILL READ.

32) Are any of your characters based on real people? Nah, they're all based on themselves.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? My favorite fanfic author read, and then complimented, the (second or third version of?) the climax scene in DDD.~

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten? Mostly just comments on Dove's first bio that went, "She's such a Mary Sue, burn it and scrap her entirely to start fresh"? (Thank *all* the gods that I didn't take that advice, because she's incredible and deserves to exist in her own right.)

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest? Honestly? The first thing I do is WRITE about it. Unless I'm prompted to, or rambling about something that has me Inordinately Emotional, I don't really share them.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s? Don't worry, outside of Azarath's canonical demise, I only ever write somebody ACTUALLY dying once. But she comes back, because that's what she does, apparently.

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written? Bold of you to assume I write comedy! But seriously, probably Srentha's debut story. When he discovers pizza, he assumes pepperoni isn't edible (a fair assumption, really, but he's vegetarian anyways). When he tries the cheese, his reaction is just so DELIGHTFUL and warm; he laughs so hard he's literally crying. The things he says and does when he's sugar-high are hysterical. He's just so exuberant and energetic, absolutely positive, he really brings a load of smiles to the table, and both I and Dove irrevocably love him for it.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it. I don't know if I have an answer for this. I don't really read a lot of Tumblr fanfics. I've already collaborated with Pix in RPs, my girlfriend and I have already collaborated on stories for both Kary and Pokemon, and the author of The Chronicler Saga implemented one of my scenes into his stories. What more can I really ask for?

I mean, if anyone WANTs to collaborate, just let me know, and I'd love to work something out.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person? Third person, multiple, and preferably omniscient (or damn close to it)! Exploring everyone's inner workings is Exactly My Style. (And just more fun for me to write.)

40) Do people know you write fanfiction? Well, I only talk about it, like, once every three hours or so. (/sarcasm)

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written? Sieara? Alerina? As for actual Canon Characters, I'm having a righteously wonderful time characterizing Azar. Lapis is fun and interesting to work with, but she's so full of emotional "tides" that it's really hard for me to write for her.

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx. (I have only ever done songfics on papers, and wound up not needing the songs after all. They were all Evanescence, of course.)

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it? Not that I know of! Someone once guessed Dove was Raven's cousin, on Unforeseen+Unforesaken, and I haven't written the climax (when Raven realizes Dove is Trigon's child) yet. That's about the closest anyone has come.

44) What is the last line you wrote? Oh, stars, let me check. (This is where Tracking Changes comes in handy. ;P ) In Nothing Good Lasts Forever, the story that's (possibly going to be renamed "Even in Death", when Raven takes Dove back to Azarath for closure): This may or may not be polished before publishing. But this takes place immediately after Raven pulls Dove from a flashback.

"There's a lot you have to deal with. Your mind has been seriously damaged by what you've been through. I wonder..." And she trailed off there, hesitating, considering the concept before she dared give it voice.

Dove kept looking up at her, confused and seeming entirely absorbed in her analysis. It was so true. Tearing her apart, every time she remembered... The nightmares and flashbacks wouldn't let her forget it.

45) What spurs you on during the writing process? My own excitement, curiosity, and even desperation to learn what happens next! And a general sense of lowkey affectionate "tribute", like I'm the only person with these peoples' stories in my head, and they deserve to have their stories told. And also the hope that, maybe, someone, somewhere, will read the story, and if just ONE person feels their heart soothed or their struggle validated by my writings, then I've done a good thing, and that's all I really want.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it? (Someone ask me, because EVERYTHING has sequels, and if you want to know about it, just Ask!)

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about? DO IT??

48) What’s your favourite trope to write? I'm... not sure, entirely, but probably "bullshit [insert genre here] magic".

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about? I remember one OF the first fics I ever read, because for about 7, 8 years, I was SCOURING fanfiction.net to find it again. It was about Raven having terrible visions, Azarath being destroyed, and Robin feeling her pain through their connection, but thinking it was heartburn. And then a group of people dropped in, took Raven away (on a spaceships? Though hyperspace???). And they were going to rebuild Azarath. And I think Robin had just discovered Raven was gone, before the story ended. Oh, and they spelled Azarath like "Azerath". That's all I can remember, but I really do wish I'd known what happened, because that story had me absolutely HOOKED. (But alas, I didn't have an account at the time, and I was reading it at the computer lab.)

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? Ohh, this one's hard. I'd drop smut like it's hot (haha, get it?). But seriously, I'm a 99%-sex-repulsed aroace, and I've only ever written like 5 half-done smut scenes. Imagined a Fair Few more, but they don't keep my interest for the long multi-hour process of editing that comprises my writing process.

This probably means "romantic fluff" though, right? I mean, I HAVE to write angst (because let's be real, without Angst I wouldn't have much of a story, since all of my stories are Driven By Characters Issues, WAY moreso than external events). But I really think the REAL beauty of my characters is how they go through that angst, and COME OUT with each others' support. I don't know how to write angst without someone being supported (i.e. "Hurt/Comfort", really), and I don't know how to write fluff without something Heavy bringing it on.

Secretshipping (Dove+Srentha) is equal parts angst and fluff, because honestly Angst is in Dove's Job Description, and Srentha is so light-hearted and goofy and silly that he balances it out (and Dove has some goof in her, and Srentha has some rare moments of angst, and it's how they interact and balance out and HELP each other through it that really brings them to LIFE together). Kary's whole characterization is because The Angst seriously fucked up her psyche, but scenes between her and Dove (and Yo-yo!), even her future husband, can get seriously silly and fluffy. Leyla's real growth and development comes from Realizing that the World is Not Like her Sheltered Life. (And how she doesn't want to expose her parents to Her Angst.) But it's also the fluffy deep softness and sincerity she and her parents share that gets her through these realizations. So like... Angst and fluff go hand-in-hand for me? I wouldn't be able to write one without the other.

[postcards-to-home]

Adventures in New Zealand !

I started off this blog like I usually do- writing it out in chronological order in a fashion that was easy to align my thoughts with the days. It took me a tremendously long time to muster up the words and those strung together didn’t sound half as good as the wonderful things I’ve seen. Feeling unsatisfied with that I wanted to piece together what New Zealand was really like. For starters the pictures taken do the South Island no justice at all. The utmost raw forms of beauty on this island are indescribable. The mountains have snow on their peaks while the land meets the sea as the city of Christchurch lays nestled in the valley between the two. This week the group experienced all four seasons such as the warmth of warm autumn rays as we strolled through old Christchurch. We experienced the pounding rain, frigid, while hiking mtn. Sunny on a lord of the rings tour. We experienced 50-degree pacific waters as we dove into the ocean to swim with rare hector dolphins (Only 10,000 left in existence). We even experienced the wind in our hair as we drove through Arthur’s pass, experiencing the difficulties of winding paths and driving on the opposite side of the road.

Many moments were spent stuffed into the little Toyota that took us hundreds of kilometers throughout the countryside. Castle hill had us climbing all, which ways up hillsides packed with ancient boulders. Mountains held braided rivers in their valleys caressing the fields before snowfall blankets them come winter. Comparatively the rivers mimicked those only found in great wildernesses such as Canada and desolate areas of Africa. The mountains we drove through had dreamy snow capped peaks with valleys filled with thousands and thousands of fluffy ,little, and dingy sheep. Nearly 20 million of those little guys call New Zealand home.

Our travels lead us else where to places such as Aoroki where a small fishing village was full of surprises. The sound offered a surreal calmness as we set sail in exploration. Sabrina had the most brilliant idea to swim with dolphins and that’s just what we did. Who would have thought the four of us would be in the freezing ass cold ocean swimming in these weird ass wet suits just hanging out with dolphins. The funniest thing was when Alexis jumped in with out her suit zipped up all the ways and she had to swim far more frozen than the rest of us. Not only did we see dolphins we saw penguins and seals too. The most incredible aspect was that we were surrounded by these massive cliff faces that looked like the cliffs of Moher in Ireland. The volcanic layers of the island could be seen most prominently at these points.

Nonetheless we encountered challenges too along the way. Stepping foot outside the airport was nothing short of a walk in the park except when we turned behind us and found one fellow friend MIA. Sabrina came out of the airport 20 minutes later in a heated rage shoving folded bits of paper into her wallet with a look on her face that silenced us all. A F**king apple was the cause of all the fuming. New Zealand has strict laws against the importation of foods that are high risk of carrying diseases. Apples that are grown in Australia have the potential to cross contaminate New Zealand and thus when she forgot to throw it out of her bag before the light security check, well they delightfully detained her in and charged her credit card $400 NZD or $285 USD. I do not even need to place any form of emphasis on the fury we all felt palpable in that moment. My mind raced back to the very moment she asked if she should throw it out prior to passing through security and I reassured her saying I’ve traveled heaps of times and never once encountered an issue. Immediately I felt a deep sense of regret that her bank account was injured from my false reassurance.

The most memorable moments were the ones laughing. The times when Kaley’s ears would pop and she’d wonder out loud how people live at such great heights with out dying. The times when we would all simultaneously bitch and moan about shitty drivers or the weird part when the blinker isn’t on the left side but the right and your arm has to rest on the right windowsill and not he left while cruising down the road. I know for a fact Sabrina loved watching Alexis gain morale with her snide comments as the two of us would bitch to no end and laugh about being stuck together for way too long. She also enjoyed my miserable ass face as we hiked to see the remains of the Edoras, the mystical castle in Lord of the Rings. Mind you I am no fan of that movie having not seen any of it but that tour was fascinating to say the least. We even had a good crack while soaking and laughing holding some fake swords at the top of the mountain. Not to mention Kaley experienced her first hike as we trekked through Arthur’s pass National Park to climb and see Devil’s Punch Bowl waterfall.

My life has been filled with traveling to nearly every continent this world has to offer touching the far corners of the globe.With that being said I have never in the entirety of my small life have  ever experienced the feelings of bliss that New Zealand gave me. It is one of the purest places I have ever encountered. However it never would have been as amazing if it were not for the beautiful people I call my friends who really made everything so vivid. As I’ve said before its not about where you go its about who you go with that makes it memorable.

[mindcoolness]

Sexual Abstinence Challenge – Part 4 [100/100 Days]

New Post has been published on http://www.mindcoolness.com/blog/sexual-abstinence-challenge-part-4/

Sexual Abstinence Challenge – Part 4 [100/100 Days]

People are imperfect. They make bad decisions from time to time. And so do I. For example, I made a bad decision by taking up a 100-day sexual abstinence challenge. Spoiler alert: The main lesson I learned is that I will never do it again.

Do I counsel you to chastity? Chastity is a virtue with some, but with many almost a vice. […] To whom chastity is difficult, it is to be dissuaded: lest it become the road to hell—to filth and lust of soul. (Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra)

But before I talk about my conclusions, let’s talk about my results first.

Did I succeed?

Yes and no. Except for my failure on day 27, I managed to not ejaculate until day 100, which was yesterday. Given that this was the hardest willpower challenge I have ever done (and I have done many), I could say that I succeeded and that I am proud of myself. In reality, however, things are more complex.

I did some stuff during the challenge that I am not proud of. Porn is a big one. During the last 40 days, there were two weeks where I watched a lot of porn. In particular, I heard about Chaturbate and got immediately hooked.

My excuse was that this would be a good way to take my challenge to the next level. As if it weren’t already tough enough! I told myself that I would strengthen my Will even more if I practiced orgasm control while facing temptation, instead of running away from it. But what did actually happen? Well, I fell into a pleasure trap and started edging (masturbating without cumming).

Thankfully, I had a lot of other stuff to do, so I did not waste alarming amounts of time. Still, it took me almost two weeks until I could keep the site blocked on my laptop for good. And I shall never unblock it again, for the sexual enticement there is just too demonic.

Before my ascetic days, I did not have an unhealthy relationship to porn. I would sometimes challenge myself to go 30 days without: not a big deal if one has some willpower. And when I allowed myself to watch porn, I primarily used it to get a quick orgasm and clear my focus. I never spent two or three hours in a row watching porn like an addict. On some days during the last 40 days, however, I did, and it made me feel awful—because it hedonistically limited my freedom.

Another thing I am not proud of is that instead of letting my sexual arousal dissipate through mindfulness exercises, which never worked past the duration of the exercise, I constantly had to distract myself from it. That is the blunt secret behind my victory…

How did I do it?

I managed to stay sexually abstinent and not ejaculate for so long only because I manically distracted myself from all temptation. I would be continually physically active until I fell asleep. If I was not working at my physically demanding job, I would be lifting weights, training jiu-jitsu, or walking in the woods conceiving new ideas for blog posts. This was unhealthy, of course, and I totally exhausted myself.

My sexual abstinence did not give me more energy. Rather, it forced me to stay frantically active by making the temptation unbearable as soon as I would try to relax my body. And whenever my sex drive got a hold of me, I had to pay the price: waste tons of energy on resisting temptation, feel bad about myself despite not surrendering, and then get a shitty night of sleep because my mind was too obsessed with sex—and eventually wake up unrecovered, tired, only to run away from temptation again.

But the physical exhaustion was helpful. The more I impaired my hormonal health, the less I cared about sex. Those were the days where I did not have to resist any temptation, and there were many of them. So my ascetic period was not one constant struggle. On about half of the 100 days, I had no sexual desire to overcome; then it was easy and I did not even think about it—at least as long as I stayed away from my computer and from women in real life (I did not go out at night and I rarely approached girls during the day).

Over the past 40 days, I only approached two sexy women (just to prove to myself that I could still do it), and both times it evoked a disaster. Obviously, not getting laid is zero challenge for me, a single male non-celebrity. But not jerking off to my mental image of a hot chick I flirted with earlier posed a tremendous challenge, particularly since I had not had sex in over two months. Hence, I did my best to stay away from everything female, both online and in real life.

Nope…

What was my experience like?

In parts 1-3, I wrote about how much anger, hate, frustration, and emptiness I felt on this challenge. This part of my experience changed substantially after I had somewhat of an epiphany. Now I know that I can be happy with or without sex, although sex will add more colors to my joy.

Furthermore, my feeling of emptiness was not necessarily tied to my lack of sexual satisfaction. It could just as well be that my lack of intimacy made me feel empty inside. After all, I had no girlfriend nor any contact with former sexual partners during the entire experiment. (Yes, part of my motivation to do this challenge was to have an easy excuse to not invest any time in women for a while; however, considering the time I had to invest in resisting distraction, it was not absolutely worth it.)

Another thing: I expected that I would get used to the lack of sexual satisfaction and overcome my sexual desire at some point. I hugely overestimated the power of my Will there. The truth was: It never got easier. My desire always came back with undiminished force. The fight was never-ending.

I found that quitting sex is not like quitting sugar or a drug. When you stop eating sugar or taking a drug, you only have to struggle until you break the habit and overcome the addiction; then the hardest part is over. But when you stop masturbating and having sex, you have to continue struggling, on and on and on. The struggle never ends, and it never gets easier.

What makes the difference is that breaking an addiction brings you back to your healthy natural state, whereas fighting against sexual temptation means resisting the healthy pull of your natural state. Ejaculation is a biological need, not a bad habit.

In other words, this challenge taught me that I am far from being an enlightened master stoic. Rather, I am a very normal human being. A simple man with manly needs. And no force of Will is able to change that, for the force of sex is in my blood. Ultimately, denying this force will only upset, disrupt, destroy the harmony in my soul.

But my experience was not all negative. For example, having seen no pussy in a while, I developed an eager erotic curiosity that would be triggered whenever a young woman caught my eye. I felt giddy with lust like a boy in puberty, excitedly hoping to spot further aspects of her body. This was a positive experience because here I had what Buddhists call a “beginner’s mind” (shoshin). Needless to say, as soon as I was back home, that innocent lust would rapidly turn into menacing temptation.

Usually, whenever I became too obsessed with sex, I would just jerk off and be done with it. Ejaculation immediately kills all my sexual desire (at least for a while). But as I could not allow myself to ejaculate during the challenge, I was permanently trapped in the pre-orgasmic phase, unduly overvaluing the importance of sexual pleasure. Before I cum, sex is the greatest thing in the world; afterwards, sex is utterly uninteresting. That is how it should be for a man. My resistance to sexual release, however, turned sex into a constant high priority for my body—hence the temptation, hence the contra-productive struggle, hence the stupid nature of my challenge.

Did I get what I want?

In a blog post about my New Year’s resolution for 2017, I announced my motives for doing this challenge:

Why do I do this?

to train my bodily self-control and exercise self-mastery

to have a simple reason not to hit on random chicks when I should be focused on more important things anyway

to learn how my interactions with women change when I know that banging them is not an option

to test the hypotheses claimed by the NoFap community: does the eschewal of sexual release make a man more confident, energetic, focused, sociable, and sexually magnetic?

to have more time for working and writing while transmuting my sexual energy into productivity

to see how it affects my masculine psyche

Now let’s see whether I got what I wanted out of completing the challenge:

Self-mastery. This was a partial success. On the one hand, yes, I did train my bodily self-control hardcore. On the other hand, I think I could have done better in terms of strategies. My primary strategy was to distract myself by becoming a workaholic, inconsiderate of my bodymind health. Although I tried, I should have put more effort into pursuing a mindfulness-based strategy.

Anti-pickup. This was a partial success as well. Often times, yes, I felt liberated from the juvenile pressure to approach whenever I saw a cute chick. Many other times, however, I felt like a coward when I did not open my mouth, and when I did, I always had to deal with the repercussions back home (temptation to masturbate). In a sense, I conditioned myself to associate approaching women with something bad. I just hope that this conditioning is as short-lived as the interactions I had with them.

Behavior around women. This one was a disaster. My typical behavior around women during the challenge could be best described as lethargic. The lethargy definitely resulted from the incessant suppression of my sexual urges together with my physical exhaustion. Accordingly, my game has suffered quite a bit during those 100 days. I am sorry, but the online myth that a man starts becoming the center of all female attention just because he has not shot a load in a while is ridiculous (sure, there might be a little increase in testosterone after about a week, but life is more complex than that).

NoFap benefits. No, I did not experience any of the superpowers allegedly gained by quitting masturbation. While this could have other reasons too (e.g., I did not consistently stay away from porn for 100 days, nor did I try to get laid as most NoFappers do), I have many reasons to believe that those benefits are nothing but placebo effects. As far as semen retention goes, sorry, I did not experience anything that would speak in favor of it. If semen retention is good for anything, then for increasing willpower; but there is an infinite amount of other methods that strengthen the human Will—methods that are actually healthy and productive (check out my book Willlpower Condensed).

More time and energy. This was, again, a partial success at best. On the one hand, yes, I had more drive to be active. On the other hand, I already explained that this drive was more frantic than energetic. And regarding time, well, on some days I had more time because I did not waste any on dating and having sex, but on other days it wasted hours on battling with my Will against temptation. A few minutes of jerking off until orgasm would have been nothing compared to the prolonged hardship I had to go through when I was horny, alone at home, and having the Word Wide Sexy Web readily available.

Masculinity. Apart from the fact that this experiment challenged my Will, it did not really do much good for my masculine psyche. I do not feel like I have become a better man, nor do I feel spiritually empowered. I simply feel like a man who has not had sex in a long time and who just wants to relieve himself.

What will I do now?

I was thinking a lot about what to do once I am done with this challenge. Should I hire an escort for a weekend? Should I try to reconnect with old fuck buddies? Should I take a Sunday off to binge-watch porn for an entire day? Should I take a week off to travel to Prague or Vienna to go out every night and do pickup? No. I see it as a demand of my self-discipline not to do anything radical just because my challenge is over now. That would be shortsighted.

Still, I definitely will do these three things:

A new lay. I will do some pickup again, probably mostly daygame with moderate effort, and try to get a new lay within the next three weeks. After a 100-day cold streak, I feel a masculine obligation to do that. Considering that I live in a small city, do not have much time on my hands, and my pickup skills are rusty by now, three weeks are a realistic goal.

Non-habitual, non-visual masturbation. I will not keep up my current habit of refraining from masturbating and ejaculating. Porn is for losers, sure, but isn’t NoFap for losers, too? Men who get overly passionate about NoFap tend to have these common characteristics: an addiction to online porn, social anxiety, and a general lack of self-discipline, self-confidence, and pickup skills. NoFap will probably be good for men who suffer from these issues; in general, though, I think that masturbation is awesome. It feels good, it brings me in touch with my body, it helps me to wind down naturally, and it makes me less needy around women because I know that I always have the option of going home (or kicking her out of my home) and jerking off to a mental image of her. I do not find this sad at all; it is liberating! After all, resisting the temptation to masturbate when I feel really, really horny costs way more time and energy than just doing it, enjoying it, and getting it over with. Therefore, I will start masturbating again, but I will not watch porn or anything arousing while I do it, and I will not make it a habit because that would only diminish the quality of my experience; lastly, as always, moderation will be key.

Next challenge. I have already started a new challenge today. This time, I have chosen something positive, something that makes me take action rather than halt action, and something that will actually have a positive effect on my life. I will do the 8-week mindfulness-based stress reduction program by Jon Kabat-Zinn. You can read more about this challenge and my experiences with it here[blog post coming soon].

The most important thing, however, I have already done because as I am writing this, I am past 100 days… And freedom is flowing through my veins again. My blood is liberated! I ejaculated and I feel free. Total fucking freedom. Nothing else. I did not even bother getting laid. Rather, I took it into my own hands and liberated myself. From myself. From the shackles of my own misguided discipline. I have cast out the demons of my sexual repression. And I feel great.

Conclusion

Self-denial of pleasure is only good if that is what one’s True Will demands and if it is necessary to achieve a concrete goal. Sexual asceticism just for the sake of it is bullshit. I would not even recommend it for the learning experience.

If sex is an expression of love, then my challenge was a war on love. I fought this war for a while, but no matter how good a soldier I tried to be, I could never win. While I may have won the challenge, I have lost the war for sure. A war on love, a war against one’s own nature, is idiotic.

Praise thee, o Nature, for thy sexual enchantment! I shall henceforth obey. Ad libertatem naturae!

Further Reading on my Sexual Abstinence

Sexual Abstinence Challenge – Part 1 [30/100 Days]

Sexual Abstinence Challenge – Part 2 [50/100 Days]

Sexual Abstinence Challenge – Part 3 [60/100 Days]

How Our Beliefs Undermine Our Happiness