#I feel like advertising especially makes me feel insane these days

[greenhorizonblog]

Instincts and awareness

I'm having one of those more and more frequent moments where it's just like:

We are weird hairless apes... on a floating rock... hurling through the infinite unknowable universe which no one even knows how it started

I see people wanting to be billionaires and I think, for what? you can have all the power, money and fame in the world and guess what?

You're still going to die...

Like everyone else

Money isn't real, private ownership isn't real. The only thing that is real about them is the violence that will be inflicted on you if you stop pretending they are.

We don't have to do all this meaningless and destructive work. Life is not supposed to be this hard

So often my instincts and intuition whisper to me, and they say

I want to eat good food with my friends, I want to rest, I want to play, I want to explore, I want to help, I want to learn, I want to grow, I want to sing, I want to dance, I want to marvel, I want to create, I want to love, I WANT TO LIVE!!!

[sophsicle]

listen, we’re all here in this space engaging in hp content in the year of our lord 2024 and i’ll be honest with you, i do not feel great about that. hate it, actually. but i comfort myself with the belief that what we’re doing in this space a lot of the time is critically engaging with the og text and the politics of its author not mindlessly consuming or supporting it. which is why it makes me INSANE when people in this space go out and buy licensed merch or play the video games or watch the sequels or prequels or spin-offs or whatever the heck they’re doing these days, or buy the books (like guys u can steal all that shit you know that right??? what are you doing) or go to the studio or the theme park or WHATEVER. it especially makes me insane when they go to those places or do those things and talk about fanfiction because like. i feel implicated now. i am not interested in providing free advertising for Joanne goddamn Rowling. i thought we were on the same page here boys. and like i said, i get it, we’re all here, me included, so im not exactly speaking from a moral high ground, but goddamnit the least we can do is not give her our money fuck me.

[14dayswithyou]

very random but I recently bought a perfume and it somehow reminded me of Ren

it's the Golden Pear & Brown Sugar Fragrance Mist from Bath & Body Works (not an advertisement lol) — it smells insanely like actual Brown Sugar. Like no joke, I was convinced that it was just liquidized sugar until I tried tasting it (yes I'm dumb like that ik)

I feel like Ren would wear this or at least, at some point considered wearing it, especially if darling loves the scent of pastry and cafes

cotton candy is a sweet scent and all, BUT HIM SMELLING LIKE LITERAL SUGAR WOULD MAKE ME WANT TO USE HIM AS A SCENTED CINNAMON ROLL PILLOW TO BRING WITH ME AT ALL TIMES (and I would probably nom nom at him during random times of the day)

✦゜ANSWERED: Ooh!! I can definitely see that! Ren does seem like the kind of person who'd smell like sugar >:3c And you're right, he would wear something that Angel prefers!!

Personally, Ren gives me clean gir/clean boy vibes! Like... he already frequently washes his clothes, maintains a neat appearance, and has flawless skin (or... at least, not including his arms); so that somehow correlates to the smell of fresh linen, mint, citrus, and something soapy in my brain lmao

If you wanna be more literal, I once smelled "Bleu de Chanel" in a store and immediately thought of Ren ;v; The cologne is suuuper expensive, though — and I don't think it's something Haruko would hypothetically buy/wear — so I don't think Ren would use it either. But it's the vibe I'd like to bring into the studio!! /silly

Similarly, The Cherry Blossom set from Bath and Bodyworks is what I think Ren's aesthetic would smell like!! Either that... or cotton candy lol

[tloubrainrot]

A taste of the sweet icing

WE APPRECIATE YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ OUR FIRST COLLABORATIVE FAN FIC!

MINORS DO NOT READ/INTERACT!!! If we catch you, you will be blocked immediately! EXPECT SEXUAL CONTENT!!

a/n: be sure to check out Vien (aka @dinaskiss on twitter!) We are very very grateful for them letting us use their art!

We have organized a playlist that we highly suggest to listen to while reading (songs listed below <3)

Witchfork - Nightgames

Back to you - The Driver Era

Her Body - Nasty Cherry

Euphoria - Dianna Lopez

Slither - DJO

Working at a bakery definitely wasn’t on your bucket list, but here you are. It’s your third year in college studying creative arts. You walked by the cutest bakery with your mom, in which she heavily pressured you to apply. You argued about it for a few weeks, but eventually gave in. I mean it is the perfect in between job for an upcoming artist.

Your boss, the owner of the bakery, was actually pretty chill for the most part. She’s always super tense, but it’s never been entirely unbearable. She would even occasionally help you with an art project.

Today wasn’t any different, you finished classes, then came straight to work. You’d almost always be a few minutes late but your boss, Ellie, never seemed to mind.

You walk in, and head to your locker to put on your apron.

“You’re late,” you hear a voice from behind you.

You turn around and see Ellie working in her office. “I’m always a few minutes late, I get here as soon as I can.” You look down at Ellie’s art work, it’s always so fascinating to watch her design the next cake. Sometimes you’ll even catch her doodling, which is still insanely good with the lack of effort.

“I know.. just be on time tomorrow. I really need to teach you how to ice your cupcakes better,” she states. Ellie doesn’t look up from her sketches.

“Are you saying there’s something wrong with the way I ice my cupcakes?” You say crossing your arms.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she looks up at you momentarily flashing a devilish smile.

You roll your eyes, and watch her sketch for a few more seconds, watching her veiny hands grip the pencil.

“Whatever you say, boss.” Ellie tenses up, narrowing her brows at you. You flash a smile in return.

You walk out of her office, to stock the display with cupcakes like you do every afternoon. After twenty careful minutes of choosing where each cupcake belonged, you stood up, crossing your arms, and admiring your hard work and creativity.

“That one should be here,” Ellie walks over from behind you, putting a hand on your waist to scoot by, her crotch grazing the back of your pants. She moves a singular cupcake to a different section. “Come on babe this isn’t rocket science.”

“Is it really that serious?” You scoff, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’s always that serious sweetheart. Now do you mind icing the cookies for me?”

“I suppose so.”

Ellie lays out a sheet of cookies for you and hands over all the tools you’ll need. “Thanks.”

“Mhm,” she hums. “I’ll be right over there if you need anything.”

You watch as Ellie walks across the room, putting on her apron and grabbing a cake pan. Every day, at the same time, she starts making her own cake for advertisement. You always like to watch her from afar. Not only do you love seeing how into she gets, she looks so good doing it. Today was especially fun to watch.

She wore a white wife beater tank, with a pair of jeans and black converse. Not far off from what she usually wears, but today she chose to wear a shirt that showed off her arms. You start to take notice of her veiny hands, handling her ingredients gently and swiftly.

You begin icing the cookies, however you never really got far. You’d ice one then look right back over at her. Ellie started whisking her batter, the mixing bowl in one arm and the whisk in the other hand. She mixed quickly, you found yourself drooling over her. Her toned muscles flexed with each stir and her grip on the whisk made you feel hot.

You wondered what it would feel like, or what her muscles would look like when she was pumping in and out of you. You shook those feelings and stared back down at your plate of cookies.

“Fuck.” You look back over at Ellie again. “Fuck me man.” Ellie attempts to wipe flour dust off of her. It had gotten everywhere, her apron, her shirt, her hands, some even resting adorably on her cheeks. It was honestly quite comedic.

“You alright there?” you chuckle softly. Ellie nods and laughs along with you. She takes off the apron, throwing it off to the side. She walks over to the sink and wets a paper towel, wiping her face. As she does her tank slightly rises, showing off her v-line. Your mind continued to wander. You wanted to lick every part of her. Leave kisses in every nook and cranny.

You cleared your throat, “you’ve still got flour on your shirt.”

Ellie looks down, “fuck.”

Ellie walks into her office, for which you assumed was to grab a shirt to change into. You continued icing the cookies. Finally finishing the last one, you look up to find Ellie.

You see her silhouette through the blinds. She takes off her shirt and tosses it on her desk. You couldn’t see her perfectly, but you knew what you were looking at. She turns her body slightly to the side, so you get a glimpse of the curve of her breasts. You knew it was wrong to look, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. You imagined yourself fingering her, pressing down slightly on her lower abdomen to see how she’d react.

You watch the entire scene play out. She wipes her stomach with the same paper towel from before then quickly puts on her shirt. It was apparent she wasn’t wearing a bra, and for some odd reason that made your stomach turn. It felt odd thirsting over your boss, and you beat yourself up for even imagining her naked body.

Ellie walks out, with a new apron in hand. You glance down at her breasts momentarily, taking a peak at her hard nipples poking through her fresh black t-shirt. You were devastated to see the white tank go, but she made everything look good.

Ellie nods at you, before walking back to her station to finish baking. “Oh hey, uh i finished the cookies. Was there something else you wanted me to do?”

Ellie walks back over and looks over the cookies, nodding as she scans the plate. “Looks good..” “Mhm..” She would say, her hand grazing her chin.

“Yeah go ahead and put those on the counter and then come find me, I've got some things I wanna teach you,” she proceeded to say.

You do as you’re told, then find Ellie back at her baking station. “So.. what is it exactly that you’re teaching me?”

“I’m teaching you how to bake a cake,” she states as if it was obvious.

“Yeah but like, why? I know how to do all of this alr-“

“You could use some improvement,” she interrupts, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You nod slowly, definitely frustrated, but she was the boss after all. At the end of the day artists need to be good at taking constructive criticism. “Okay then.. what’s first.”

“We’ll start with icing.. and I don't mean icing a cake, I mean prepping the icing.” She puts the tip of the icing tube on then looks back up at you. “That’s something you lack, I notice you over fill it, then leave too many air bubbles.”

You nod along as Ellie speaks. She begins demonstrating and you don’t take your eyes off her hands for a second. She finishes filling it and ties the end off.

She looks back up at you, maintaining eye contact. “Just like that.. got it?” She licks the remaining frosting left on her fingertip, looking at you and waiting for a response.

“Mhm..” you wanted to say more, to express how grateful you were for her help. Your mind couldn’t even form the right words. You were starting to get nervous, and you're worried she could tell.

“Good, now icing the cake is the most important part. People only buy cakes that look pretty.” Ellie starts demonstrating again, icing only half the cake. Once she’s finished she looks over at you. “Any questions?”

You shake your head in response. “Great, go for it,” she says, handing over the icing.

“What, me? I don’t wanna fuck up the cake,” you say defensively.

She gestures the icing toward you again, “It’s not important, It’s just for practice.” You stand there for a moment looking at her before finally taking the tube of icing.

You start to decorate that cake in which Ellie taught you. “Mhm..” she would say, watching you.

“Like this?” You say looking up at her for approval.

“Close, fix this right here..” she says pointing.

“This?”

“No.. just..” She steps behind you positioning herself behind your body. She wraps her arms around you holding the tube of icing in both of your hands. She starts helping you ice the cake, guiding your every move. “You need to be more gentle, like this.”

Her voice is right next to your ear, it sends a shiver down your spine. Having her pressed up against you made you flustered.

“Mmm okay, I think I got it now,” you claimed.

“Okay good,” Ellie says, moving away from your body to stand next to you. You glance at her hips momentarily as she leans against the counter. Your mind was filled with explicit thoughts of her. You imagined taking her right here on that counter.

You imagined her clit rubbing against your thigh. One of her breasts in your mouth, and your hand gripping the other. You wondered what sounds she’d make. Would she whimper? How long would it take her to cum? How wet she’d be.

“Hey.. you good?” Ellie said, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Yeah. m’ just stressed.. sorry.” You proceed to frost the cake, hoping it would finally be the way she expected.

“Hell yeah,” she smiled. “Just like that babe, good job” she said innocently. God that drove you crazy. Honestly that’s just the kind of personality she had. It wasn’t intended to be sexual or dirty at all, but fuck.. you wanted to make her say those words again. Just more.. breathy. Giving herself into you, and letting you take control.

“You’re doing so good, quick learner, hm?”

“You could say that,” you say, smiling at her. Her words make your knees feel weak, you imagine her saying those exact words to you while you are in between her legs, fucking her senseless.

“Alright well, good work today, we’ll go over some more stuff tomorrow,” she says, starting to clean up.

“Cool,” you smile at her. “Need help?”

“No it’s cool, go ahead and go up front and cover Jesse, he’s off in five.”

You nod and make your way up front. Walking out you see Jesse interacting with a customer. Their conversation quickly comes to an end and you send Jesse on his way.

It was unusually slow in the bakery today but you kinda enjoyed the quiet. You had gotten comfortable behind the counter, working on an art project in between checking people out.

The door dings and in walks a girl around your age, she looked super familiar. She approaches the counter, with a wide smile.

“Hey, how’s it going,” she says, putting both hands onto the counter.

“I’m okay, thanks for asking.” I take a second to study her face, “You look familiar. Do I know you?” You couldn’t quite tell where you had seen her before, but you definitely enjoyed looking at her.

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” she smiles. “I’m Cat.” She extends her arm and shakes your hand. She was definitely a pretty girl, and she carried herself in a way that interested you.

“Wait, do you go to the art school down the street?” she questioned.

“Yeah actually, do you?”

“Yeah! Holy shit I remember you. We had that art history class together freshman year.” Honestly, how could you miss that? I mean it has been a couple years. Not to mention she’s gotten insanely beautiful since then.

Ellie walks in and starts putting things in the display cabinet next to you both, completely unfazed by the two of you.

“Wow, that feels so long ago,” you stated.

“It really does,” Cat agreed. “I honestly wish we stayed in touch.”

“Aw, me too Cat.” You look over at Ellie and see her looking up at you from the display case. She didn’t seem to take any interest before but suddenly she’s all ears.

“You know, it’s not too late.” Cat made sure to make direct eye contact, and glanced down at your lips a couple times. “Honestly I’d love to take you out this weekend.”

Ellie stands up from the display and looks over at Cat and nods, giving the fakest of all smiles. She starts taking inventory, but stays in close range to keep listening on.

“That sounds great, I’d like that,” you smile.

“Cool,” Cat says, flashing another wide smile. “Oh right, I almost forgot. So I’m having a small get together with my family tomorrow and we were interested in some sort of cake. Do you think I could put in an order for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Do you know what flavor y-“

You’re interrupted with the feeling of a hand grazing you. You look over at Ellie who is standing extremely close to you. Resting her hand on your lower back.

“We’re fully booked tomorrow, sorry.” Ellie looks at Cat blankly.

“Ellie, what are you-“

“Booked solid,” Ellie says shrugging.

“Oh,” Cat says. It was clear Ellie was making her uncomfortable, and frankly I wanted to disappear myself. “Alright then.. see you around,” she says nodding in your direction.

Cat leaves the store and you turn to face Ellie. “What the actual fuck?”

Ellie was already working on inventory, she didn’t even look back up at you to respond. “Hm?”

“Why did you turn her down? Don’t you like need customers to run a damn business?”

“I didn’t like her energy.”

“What the hell are you talking about Ellie?” you spoke. It was really pissing you off how unfazed Ellie was. Not even looking up at you for a second.

“It’s not that serious. It’s my business, I run it how I please,” Ellie states. She finally looks up at you. “Something came up, I have to cater a wedding reception tonight so I won’t be able to close. Do you mind locking up for me?”

You roll your eyes, but Ellie didn’t seem to notice. “Sure whatever.”

“Thanks,” she says, leaving for her office.

Several minutes of cleaning pass and Ellie finally returns with her backpack, ready to go. “Alright, I’m heading out.” she says slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Call if there’s an emergency, cool?”

You nod in her direction, “mhm, yeah.” Honestly you were still kinda pissed at her, but at the end of the day it was her business. “Have a good night.”

Ellie looks back at you from the door, “You too babe.” She exits the store, leaving you all by yourself. Closing was honestly a lot of fun for you. Ellie always allowed you to take a few cupcakes home for closing, so it was something you always looked forward to.

You started playing your own music throughout the store. Cranking up the volume to make cleaning a little more bearable. The worst part about closing was always the fuck load of dishes that piled up.

An hour and a half pass of cleaning and you switch off the lights, along with the radio. You happily skip the entire way to your bag to fetch the keys to the store. You grab your bag, digging through your school supplies and random shit you were too lazy to take out.

You searched your bag for several minutes, searching for the keys but you never found them. You panic, searching the entire store. Looking through every single possible place it could be.

No fucking keys.

You stare at your phone, debating whether you should call Ellie, or just end your life right then and there.

You pick up your phone, searching through your contacts until you reach Ellie’s. You start to call her, pressing your phone to your face anxiously. “She’s gonna fucking kill me.”

The phone rings for a few seconds until Ellie picks up. “Yeah babe? Are you okay? What’s going on.” You felt so fucking bad, you could tell she was worried for your well being. Her mind didn’t go to irresponsibility. She clearly thought you were unwell or unsafe in some way.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine.” You pause trying to find the right words to say. “Ellie, I’m really sorry.”

You can hear Ellie sigh through the phone, voices of the wedding attendees muffled in the background. “What did you do?”

“I lost the keys to the store,” you say quietly.

“God damn it, are you sure? How the hell could you be so irresponsible?”

“I- I don’t know, i thought I had them in my bag,” you say attempting to defend yourself.

“I don’t wanna hear it..” She pauses for another moment, giving herself time to think. “I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

“I’m sorry.” Ellie quickly hangs up the phone, leaving you with your own thoughts.

Twenty minutes came quicker than you wanted it to. You hear the door open and you walk out from the break room. You hear a bag plop onto one of the tables in the lobby.

You walk out and see Ellie, grabbing her keys from her backpack. “Ellie i’m really sorry I don’t-“

“Do you have any idea how much money I lost for this?”

“No, but-“

“I’m talking,” she interrupts. “I used to think you messing shit up was cute but I’m getting really fucking tired of it.”

“Ellie, I really didn’t mean to do this. It’s not my fault.”

“How isn’t this your fault? This is your responsibility.” she says, crossing her arms.

“Jesus Ellie what more do you want me to say?” “If I’m such a fuck up, just fire me.”

“God damn it, you’re so fucking bratty.” She throws her keys on the floor near by. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“I’m not bratty Ellie-“ Your eyes go wide, glancing over at Ellies keys nearby. “You’re scaring me.”

She clenches her fists for a brief second, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looks back up at you. “Fuck it.”

Ellie makes her way over to you, pulling you in. She holds your face in her hands, looking into your eyes. Your lips are only inches apart. “Just shut the fuck up.” She closes the gap between your lips, only coming up for air to look back at you.

Your hands get comfortable tangled in her hair, as she roams your body with her hands. She walks you back, until your back hits the counter. She props you up, lifting you onto the counter by your ass.

“Fuck..” she breathes out. She starts to unbutton her shirt, leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck as she does. Ellie grips onto your neck, kissing you lower and lower down your neck. “Take this shit off.”

You prop your ass up, allowing Ellie to fully slip off your pants. She rubs you through your drenched underwear, which only leaves you craving more.

“God..” you breathe out desperately.

“How long have you been dying to fuck me, hm?” She whispers in your ear, while noticing how wet you are.

“So fucking long Ellie” you say through sounds of whimpers.

Ellie looks up at you and grins, still rubbing your clit over your panties. “You know? I see the way you look at me everyday. Just begging to be able to touch me, aren’t you?”

You nod, moaning into Ellie’s ear each time she grazes over where you need her most. “Please Ellie.. more. I need you.”

“God baby, you have no idea how wet you’re making me, being so needy.”

She lifts your shirt up and over your breasts, taking one into her mouth. She moves your underwear to the side and starts fingering you slowly. “Fuck Ellie,” you moan out. You manage to slip Ellie’s pants off, slipping her boxers down until they fall at her ankles. You push her closer to you by wrapping your legs around her hips.

“Please, please baby,” you whimper, letting go of her hips and spreading your legs further to allow her more access.

“So eager.”

Ellie grabs your legs up on the counter for easier access. She slips a finger inside of you, you immediately clench around her, watching as her fingers pump in and out of you. “i’ve been wanting this for so fucking long, dreamt about it.” You say between moans. Ellie gets closer and buries her face in your neck as she’s pounding you slowly and kissing your neck.

“So have i, thought about it often, touched myself to the thought.” You let out a filthy moan in response. You get wetter and wetter and it’s obvious how bad you need her. Ellie chuckles when she feels you dripping on her fingers.

“Like the thought of me fucking myself, baby? Bet you wish you were fucking me like this, hm?”

“Yes, so badly. Fuck. Faster, please.” you bite your lip. Ellie pushes you closer with one arm and starts picking up the pace with the next, she also adds a finger or two, which slip in easily. She changes the angle so her fingers are now deeper inside you. She goes faster, not a second passing between every thrust. She bites at your neck hard, one hand grazing your nipple and the other pumping inside you.

“Feels so g-good, love when you fill me up.” Ellie lets out a sultry moan against your neck.

“You’re so fucking hot”. She stops thrusting and starts curling her fingers inside you, hitting your spot repeatedly. You moan with every move. “I’m close, I'm so close, Ellie.”

“Bet you can’t make me cum like this” She smirks before she sends you over the edge. You moan loudly against her. Your cum flows out of you, wetting Ellie's forearm. “Fuck yes baby, come for me. Just like that.”

You’re out of breath, you’ve never came so hard in your life, and you’d do it again because of how good Ellie’s fingers felt destroying you. You sit like that for a few seconds, catching your breath.

“Let me fuck you.” you pleaded “Want it so bad, been wanting it.”

“Say please.”

“Please.. Ellie.. I wanna feel you. I wanna see how wet you are. I wanna taste you.”

Ellie moans in your ear listening to all the things you wish to do to her. You felt her leaning into you, her body getting heavy.

“I can see how bad you need me Ellie.. give in.” You lean closer into her ear and whisper, “Let me take care of you baby.”

“Fuck, now.” she whines.

You grin, standing up and switching places with Ellie. It turned you on how quickly she gave into you. You lifted her sports bra up over her head, following with kisses all over her chest. You sucked on her breast, savoring the image she made with her mouth propped open. “Oh god,” she moaned.

You took your time, waiting for the perfect moment to finally touch her sopping wet core. Ellie spread her legs underneath you. In which you looked down, finally getting a full view of her dripping cunt. “So fucking pretty,” you said, biting your lip then looking back up at Ellie. Her eyes, burning into yours.

She desires you, she needs you. Most importantly she fucking craved you, and only you. “Please, just touch me already,” she begged.

You lean closer into her, leaving only a few inches between you two. “I’m gonna savor every last fucking drop of you, got it?” You look back down at her pussy. “The more you rush me, the longer it’s gonna take.. understood?”

She nods, not daring to break eye contact.

“Say it.”

“I understand baby.”

You grin, “Good.” You kiss her neck, working your way up to the spot right behind her ear. “Now touch yourself.”

She looks at you, eyes widening. “What-“

“Do it.”

She props her hand up to better position herself. She sucks her fingers slowly and good, definitely on purpose to get a rise out of you. You groan at the sight.

“So pretty,” you say grinning.

“Now baby, let me see you.” She complies, resting her ring and middle finger lightly on her clit. You prop yourself down on your knees, allowing you to look up at her. Getting a view of every angle, every facial expression.

She fingers herself, looking straight at you. You watch as her chest rises and falls heavily. Wet sounds fill the room, but you both craved more.

She speeds up, fucking herself at a steady pace. “Mhm- baby.. I'm so wet.”

“I can tell,” you grin. “And all for me.”

You leave wet kisses on her thigh working your way toward her v-line.

“Fuck.. yes- more please”. Ellie gets frustrated and starts fucking herself faster and faster.

She spreads her legs further, letting you move closer and closer. You breathe against her clit, teasing her. She grabs your hair. “If you don’t fucking fuck me right now, you’re fired for sure.”

“Oh, really?” You laugh. Ellie pushes your weight up and on top of her with her legs. She gets her lips closer to your ear. “Are you going to be a good girl or not?”

Ellie grabs your waist harshly, creating a knot in your stomach.

“Yes, I'm your good girl.” You nod, grabbing her knees and spreading her legs apart.

You put two fingers inside her dripping cunt, moving in and out slowly.

“F-fuck, faster, now.”

“Hm? I didn’t hear a please.”

“Please, fucking.. faster. I cant wait any longer.”

You pick up your pace, fucking yourself into her. You watch as her perfect tits bounce before you. “So fucking wet El.”

You remove your fingers from inside her slowly. You drop to your knees again, face to face with her throbbing clit. “I wanna taste you” you say before your lips meet her bud.

“Fuckk..” Ellie buckles her hips against you. Throwing her head back in pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good,” you moan against her. You keep a steady pace, adjusting yourself to what makes Ellie feel her best. She looks down at you, grabbing a fist full of your hair. You circle her clit with your tongue repeatedly, finding a good rhythm, you also tease her folds, moving your tongue up and down. You then start to suck on her clit vigorously causing her to arch her back.

“So fucking good, f-fuck,” her moans were getting louder, her legs began to shake. She starts whimpering and moaning out your name. “I- I can’t take it.”

Ellie was nearing her orgasm, and you craved for more. More time with her. Her legs started to shake uncontrollably. “Baby.. don’t fucking stop.. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

You continue, sucking on her sensitive bud for a few more moments before pulling away.

“What the fuck?” She grunts, whining deeply.

“You think I’m done with you? Hm?” You stand back up to get closer to Ellie. You slap her pussy making a loud wet noise. “Stand up.” Ellie twitches underneath your hand. A soft whimper leaves her lips.

You guide Ellie down onto the floor, and lay down right along with her. “I need you to fuck yourself on my tongue” you order. Ellie kisses you deeply, letting out a deep whimper, a sound that sent vibrations through your body.

“Yes, ma’am” She says against your lips, smirking.

“I need you to cum on my face.”

“Oh you need it, hm?” She chuckles lowly as she moves to straddle your face. She looks like an absolute vision from this angle, her wet cunt so close to your mouth, her abs flexing as she hovers above you. Pieces of her hair stick to her forehead as she stares down at you, pupils so big you can barely see the green anymore.

“Fuck- yes, babe” you all but moan, hands circling her thighs as you try to push her down onto your mouth. She resists, though, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you back from her pussy as you huff impatiently against her clit.

“Beg for it” she smirks, one hand snaking down to spread herself open as she pulls your hair tighter.

“Please Ellie, please let me make you cum I promise I’ll be so go-mmf!” You’re cut off as she pushes your face into her, sighing in relief as you begin to eat her out again.

“Fuck, I- I can’t get enough of your pretty little mouth” she moans loudly as she begins to move her hips back and forth, slowly at first but quickly devolving into wild thrusts that leave you almost unable to breathe.

The hand in your hair tightens its grip as she picks up her pace, groans of your name and sloppy wet sounds echoing around the store. Your hands leave her strong thighs so you can play with her tits, pinching her nipples and groaning in unison with her, at the way she clenches on your tongue at the action.

“S’fckingood” you mumble against her, the vibrations of your words against her clit make Ellies legs shake, her head thrown back in pleasure as she continues to use you however she wants.

“Yeah? You like that? Just laying there and taking it while I use you to get off?” You nod desperately at her words, your thighs pressing together and eyebrows furrowing as you focus all your energy on making her cum. “Course you do, dirty fucking girl”

You moan against her, the taste of her heavy on your tongue as you try your best to breathe through your nose. “M’ so f-fucking close baby shit”

An idea pops into your head as you move your hands from her tits to her back, pushing her forward roughly. She catches herself on her hands, and before she can open her mouth to scold you you’re slipping a finger into her dripping hole.

The sound that leaves her is almost pornographic as her hand flies back into your hair.

“O-oh fuck m’- god- m’ gonna cum!” she groans lowly as you continue to pump in and out of her, jaw aching from how hard she's fucking your face. “I’m c-cumming ohmygod I-”

Her hips stutter as she holds you against her. You can’t breathe at all, lungs burning slightly as her thighs press against your ears. Even though you can’t breathe, if the way you’re supposed to die is stuck between your insanely hot boss's legs, you’ve made peace with it. You lick her clean, every drop as she twitches around your mouth.

Ellies legs tremble as she lifts herself off of you, her hand slipping out of your hair as she climbs off your mouth and hand. Your entire lower face is drenched, along with your fingers, and you smile up at her dumbly as she sits down on the couch and pats her thighs, asking you to come join her.

You must be moving too slow because, like the impatient girl she is, she grabs your waist and yanks you towards her with ease. You laugh as you adjust yourself on her lap, wrapping your legs around her and burying your face in her neck. She grabs you by the chin, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before smiling against your mouth.

“Think that friend of yours could have done all that?” Ellie chuckles, her hand on the side of your thigh. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know damn well the answer to that.”

“I wanna hear you say it though.”

You move your lips closer to her ear to whisper. Your hands on her neck. “No, she wouldn’t have been able to wreck my pussy like you did.”

It’s evident your words affect her by the way she squeezes your thigh much harder. “You don’t want to get me started again.” She groans, kissing you deeply, biting your lip and then stopping. She props you off her and gets up, putting her clothes back on. She spanks you playfully. “We should find the keys now, shouldn’t we?”

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 28

Chapter Index

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Chapter 28: Five Minutes to Midnight ~ 25k

hi! this chapter is a collection of short stories - time skips are denoted by "~" and story changes are denoted by "***" :) tw: mentions of underage drinking

The day after Christmas, the largest snowstorm the Midwest had seen in 30 years subsided, and Big Time Rush, their assistant, and family members were able to get their flights rescheduled so they could spend some time back home before the new year. 

Though Roxy and Declan had to part with the boys, Katie, and Mrs. Knight at their flight gate, it didn’t stop the young writer and her boyfriend from a parting goodbye that felt as though it belonged in an old black and white movie. To an onlooker, it might have seemed as though James and Roxy would never see each other ever again when in reality, he was flying to Duluth and she was flying to Green Bay. 

Somebody had to collect the ancient Somerset family truck, Dynamo, from Wisconsin, and Roxy certainly wasn’t going to make her father do it alone, especially after his wonderful holiday surprise of meeting her in Los Angeles so they didn’t spend Christmas apart. Despite it adding five more hours to their travel time to Duluth, she was more than happy to spend it with him. 

More than once on the way to the airport, Roxy asked James to come with her and her father to Green Bay, but he unfortunately had to decline the invitation. He assured her he’d much rather spend the time with her, but his father was already made aware of their flight plans and was going to meet him and Carlos at the Duluth airport to take them both home. 

So, the pair had a dramatic farewell - James being entirely over the top as he quietly double-checked to make sure his girlfriend had taken her air sickness medication and Roxy clinging to him so tightly she probably left a few crescent-shaped indentations on his skin from her nails - and after a deep kiss and lots of groans from their friends, the two groups managed to go their separate ways through the bustling airport. 

Admittedly, the songwriter was quite worried as she and her dad passed through the large crowds of people. This was the first time in her life she’d be taking a flight without James and that wasn’t sitting well with her. Even if he hadn’t been there for her on their first two flights, their solo trek back to Los Angeles at the beginning of the summer had been far different. 

Of course, Roxy hadn’t realized it at the time, but It would be impossible for her to ever forget the jitters she felt when he held her hand during take-off or the way he checked on her whenever she finally felt well enough to weakly lift her head off his shoulder. Despite what felt like the entire world crumbling around them as they had jettisoned back out to California to work with a criminally insane record producer without their best friends, he had stayed awake the entire red-eye flight to comfort her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered to him. 

While she reflected, she could feel the smile tugging at her lips. I love being the center of his attention.

Just as the pair of them happened upon the correct gate, C10, Roxy heard her father mutter something as he stared out of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. At the base of the plane they’d be traveling on, the luggage handlers were roughly loading everything into the spacious haul, including two identical black guitar cases. 

“What was that?” She said teasingly, nudging him with her elbow as they continued to stare, watching as their items rode up the conveyor belt and into the luggage compartment. 

Declan blinked before guiding his daughter to a few open seats in front of the airline help desk. “I said ‘This is why I hate flying.’ On top of the damn ticket check-in an’ obnoxious TSA screenings an’ ridiculously priced coffee,” He gestured to a small cafe in front of them advertising seven-dollar lattes, “They don’t even handle your things with care! He just threw a 300-dollar guitar on the belt like it was nothing!”

While his complaints were entirely valid, Roxy had known him more than long enough to know none of those reasons were truly what was riling him up. As they sat beside each other, she noticed his bouncing leg and tight grip on the armrest beside him. That, mixed with his fast-paced rambling and thickening of his Southern accent, told her one thing. Her father, the bravest man she knew, was anxious and she was pretty sure she could figure out why.

That explains why we’ve never flown anywhere together…

Roxy had figured it was simply because flying was expensive; She and her father hadn’t ever vacationed far from home - Always to locations within acceptable driving distance. But now, watching him fiddle with the zipper on his carry-on, she couldn’t help but chuckle.

Another nudge. “That’s the only thing you hate about flying?” 

“I don’t care for the tiny, crowded seats, either.” His voice was barely heard over the hustle and bustle of other airport patrons around them.

“You’re so pessimistic.” She rolled her eyes.

“Well if you want me to say something nice, I suppose I can’t complain about the little peanuts they give you.”

“Those are only good if you can manage to keep them down.”

Finally, eyes widening, Declan caught drift of what Roxy was trying to get at. Apparently, airsickness ran in the family. 

“No… Not you too, honey bun…”

Slowly, she nodded. “It would’ve been nice of you to warn me of that before I got on my first plane!”

“I was hoping it had skipped a generation. Sucks all the fun out of goin’ places, doesn’t it?” When he finally turned to face her, watching as she placed her carry-on luggage between her knees, he nervously rubbed one calloused hand over his tattooed forearm. “There’s only been three times in my life I’ve been on a plane. Once, your grammy took me to Disney World when I graduated eighth grade, then when I chased Dana from Austin to Duluth, and then again, yesterday, to meet you here.”

Grammy. Dana. Two people her father rarely mentioned, but both of them in one go? Unheard of. 

Roxy swallowed, letting his words sink in. It was hard to figure out what to say whenever he brought up people from his past. Neither of those individuals were people he spoke to anymore, for good reason in her opinion, so the subject was always a bit touchy. For a moment, she wondered if her grandmother would be proud of the man he had become since cutting her off seventeen years ago. 

She certainly was proud of him; There wasn’t any man on Earth better than her father. 

“We’re tied then.” The girl settled on, ignoring the people Declan had mentioned entirely, reaching out to place one hand over his to help ease some of the tension. “Twice to LA, once to Duluth. They tried to get me on a plane during tour but I flat-out refused and took the bus cross-country instead. But you learn a few things when your job requires such consistent travel…” Using one hand to flip open the black flap of the mini backpack in her lap, Roxy rooted around for the small white capsule containing the Dramamine Mrs. Knight had offered her before their departure. “Take a few of these. It won’t really help, but sometimes it’s enough to trick your body into chilling out for the first half hour-ish. We’ll get through the rest together.”

Shockingly enough, Declan sighed, accepting the small tube from his daughter and swallowing two of the little pills dry. Then, slinging a lazy arm around her shoulder, he pulled her into a small half-hug. “That’s my girl. So grown up, jet-setting across the States with her pop band… You hardly need me to take care of you anymore, huh?” 

That was true, she felt, and she admittedly had for quite some time, but she’d never, ever let him know that. It didn’t change their relationship in the slightest; It didn’t affect just how much love she had for him. “Don’t be silly, Dad, I’ll always need you to take care of me.”

~

Both Roxy and Declan had a miserable flight to Wisconsin, running to opposite sides of the plane like clockwork to take care of their sickness. Whenever they returned to their seats, however, they had a brief period of respite where they were able to weakly hold a conversation or talk about something that had been going on in their separate worlds. 

Secretly, Roxy wished James were there, but respected the commitment he and his father had made to meet back in Duluth. Through most of her nausea, she couldn’t concentrate on much else, but when her head was clear enough, she sometimes wondered if he thought it was a chore to take care of her when they had flown back to Los Angeles together. The thoughts were unwelcome and hard to neglect, but she chalked it up to her illness as she burrowed into her Dad’s shoulder - when he was around at least - and tried to focus on the rock music flooding through their shared headphones. 

Declan’s playlists always brought back welcome memories of the times he’d picked her up from school, the special songs he’d taught her to play on the guitar as she was growing up, every time he’d play music trivia with her while they made dinner together. The hold music had on both of their lives was simultaneously the same and vastly different, shaping who each of them were while together and apart. All the comforting feelings from the familiar guitar chords and rebellious lyrics eased the girl greatly, eventually allowing her to ward off her ailment enough to close her eyes and nod off for a while.

By the time they arrived in Green Bay, the pair were more than ecstatic to get off the plane as quickly as possible, and take one more trip to the bathroom, before gathering their additional luggage and guitars. While the hustle and bustle of this airport was nothing like LAX, it was still busy regardless, taking even more time to get to the parking garage from the influx of people heading out of the baggage claim. Each moment that ticked by where she wasn’t getting any closer to Duluth was a moment Roxy began to miss her friends even more.

It was strange, being so connected to the band she physically felt an emptiness when they weren’t near each other, but unsurprising. Those four had a way of digging into her heart since the very first moment they’d met and had been subtly carving themselves deeper and deeper with each passing day. 

Aren’t you supposed to get tired of the people you spend every single moment of every single day with? She thought to herself, half-joking to try and dull the ache. 

When they finally found the ancient, rusty blue truck in the airport parking lot, Declan realized something was bugging Roxy, so he let her pick the music for their long ride home. That was something he always did when she was in a bad mood; It was an unspoken invitation to talk it out or leave nothing said as they simply enjoyed each other’s comforting company to the sound of a background track. 

First, she dug around in Dynamo’s glove box while her father took his place behind the wheel. Most of the tapes they had each made were in there, the ones they’d deemed travel-worthy anyway, along with the truck’s registration and various, small emergency supplies. The collection she had managed to pull out on her first try yielded one of the first tapes she had ever made - All her favorite songs from about five years ago - and the mix her dad had made for her to listen to as she was growing up. Each of them held 45 minutes on each side, so they’d have enough time to listen to both, and she popped in the cassette her father constructed to listen to first while he started up the vehicle. 

After a few turns of the key, Dynamo’s engine loudly roared to life with a shutter that reached the entire cab. Another familiar feeling, one she certainly didn’t ever get in the Pontiac, as her father pulled the car out of its parking spot and the two began the journey home. 

The idle small talk they had been making stopped the moment the first song began to play through the old, on the verge of blowing out speakers. 

Being the music-obsessed man he was, of course, the first song Declan had chosen for his daughter’s tape was “Roxanne” by the Police. Not only was it one of his favorite songs of all time, but it had been the inspiration for her name.

“A musical name for my musical girl,” He’d always told her whenever he played the song for Roxy when she was younger. “This one was on the radio when I received the best news of my life…”

Declan claimed to have made many mistakes as a teenager, but assured her that listening to this song always reminded him that his life had turned out on the right track. Without “Roxanne” he’d never have fallen in love with music, he’d never have started his own band and discovered the emerging punk scene in his hometown of Austin, Texas, and without that, he’d have never had Roxanne. 

When Roxy was old enough to begin to understand the lyrics and asked him what it meant to “put on the red light,” it had originally been to make him squirm, get him to admit that he didn’t really think about what it meant to name her after the song. Her rebellious phase hit quite swiftly once she turned thirteen, but dissipated about a year after, so now, she’d sometimes ask him randomly, for fun. In those cases, he’d ruffle her hair and make up a new absurd lie each time; Something silly and stupid, never truly telling her what it meant, though he knew for a fact she knew. 

She suspected this song had something to do with her favorite color being red. 

Leaning her head in the crook of her arm and staring out the window as they flew down the highway, Roxy reached for the dial and turned the volume up a few notches, but asked, “Tell me what putting on the red light means again?”

“Aren’t you listening to the song? She’s clearly using the light to interrupt a secret spy code!”

“Roxanne the spy does have a nice ring to it… Roxanne de la Rouge!”

He didn’t respond after that, though he did crack a small smile, simply tapping the wheel to the drum beat and checking the road signs to make sure they were on the right track. 

The more cars they passed, the heavier her eyelids felt. Flying always took a lot out of her - Far more than she cared to admit. By the time the second song rolled around, “Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve?)” by Buzzcocks, she was in and out of consciousness, thinking about how much she couldn’t wait to be back in Minnesota with her friends. At song three, “Real Cool Time” by the Stooges, she realized what a strange thought that was, considering months ago, that had been her worst nightmare.

Wherever we are… As long as we’re together, was her final conclusion, before slipping off to dreamland. 

~

They stopped halfway home to have lunch at a diner off the side of the highway. It was a much-needed break, and a good idea for the pair to refuel at the gas station on the opposite corner, but in the blink of an eye Declan and Roxy were back in the truck, motoring as quickly as they could to get back home. 

The grease dripping off of Roxy’s burger had settled nicely in her stomach, making her crave something from Duluth’s Bun In A Million; Still trying to wrap her head around the fact she was excited to be back in the Midwest. 

By the time her tape of songs had run out, she hardly even noticed, spacing out as she stared at the miles of farmland whizzing by her window. Wordlessly, her dad reached out across the center console and nudged her to pull her out of her daze, pointing to the glove box. 

Popping the small compartment in front of her open, Roxy blinked a few times to focus her attention and began to push various papers and items out of her way to find the other tapes they had stashed in Dynamo. It wouldn’t be so messy if he had just bought the tape organizer I told him to…

When her hands finally found something plastic under a box of bandaids, she pulled it out to discover a cassette she had never seen in the car before. Instead of the standard black of the blank tapes Declan had scattered all over their house, this one was bright white, with his smudged handwriting sprawled across the top. 

BTR

Roxy could hardly contain the grin curling her lips as she hastily popped her mix out of the car’s stereo and inserted the recording of her band’s first album. Though it took a few seconds to play - Declan had never been the best at making pristine recordings - by the time the intro to “Big Time Rush” started she could hear his deep laughter standing out against the melody. 

When their first album had been released, she had been sure to send a signed CD home as a testament to her songwriting ability. Though she had assumed her dad had tucked it away somewhere for safekeeping, she’d never have guessed he would’ve made a tape of it to listen on the go. When the first chorus hit, Roxy learned something else: Declan knew all the words. 

 It was almost enough for her to erupt in a fit of giggles, listening to him unabashedly belt out his declaration to go “big time” and at the bridge, she decided to join him in singing while playing air guitar to the chords she’d written her first night in Los Angeles. 

The pair continued like that, through “Famous” and “Any Kind of Guy” and then the rest of the tracks, all the way to the end with “Stuck” when they were interrupted by the sound of Roxy’s phone going off. 

Now “Boyfriend” was attempting to get into the song mix, with the writer swiftly taking her phone out of her back pocket and turning down the car’s stereo emphasizing the riff coming from the tiny cell speakers. A picture of her and James on their second-first date lit up her screen as she accepted the call. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe! Just wanted to let you know we all made it home safe and sound.” 

It wasn’t lost on Roxy that her dad snorted at James’ words; She mustn’t have had her speaker volume turned down enough. 

Shifting the device to her right hand, she slugged Declan on the shoulder. “Ugh, I’m so jealous. We’ve still got about two hours left, I think.” By the way the sun was beginning to shine directly into her eyes, she guessed, “Probably won’t be back until way after dark.”

On the other line, she heard some background deliberation meaning James was probably with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, and it took a second for him to respond, “The guys and I are going to kick it at Carlos’ for the night, think you can make it?”

How are they so go, go, go…

“As much as I’d love to, jet lag is kicking my ass. It’s time for a much-needed night in for me.”

“Suit yourself!” He laughed before lowering his voice. Roxy could practically imagine him turning away from his friends and cradling his phone to his ear while he said, “Let me know when you make it to town. Since I’m not there to kiss you goodnight in person I figured I could-”

Immediately, her cheeks flushed before remembering where she was. “O-okay! Yes, I’ll… do that. Bye!”

His confused, “Bye?” hardly made it through the speaker before she ended the call, scrambling to put her phone back into her pocket and pretending to be very interested in the small town she and her dad were passing through out the window. 

Declan shuffled a bit, the aging leather of Dynamo’s seats letting out a squeak in response. Soon after, “Stuck” ended and Roxy heard him flip the tape over to a live version of the unreleased “This is Our Someday.” A recording he must have made at their hometown concert over the summer. 

Though she much preferred the guitar piece she had written for the live show, she hoped her dad would enjoy the studio version just as much. 

While the song played, Roxy still stared out the window, trying to work through the complex emotions of being embarrassed by her unsuspecting boyfriend in front of her father. We sure are on a roll this week…

“He’s good to you, right?”

The girl felt her eyes widen, letting the question rattle around in her brain for a minute before sighing, “Dad…”

Music turned down to zero, Declan asked her again. 

“I’ll call Jo and Camille. The three of you can deliberate on it,” Roxy tried to quip, wanting to have literally any conversation but this one with her father. If she could sink into her seat and disappear at this very moment, she probably would.

Leather squeaking again, Declan blew out a large puff of air. “Seriously, Honey Bun. Teenage musicians, they’re-”

 “I know!” 

Like really. I know. Not that her father ever needed to hear about Dak Zevon. If that went anything like their conversation after her fiasco with Mag last year, he’d probably end up with his face plastered on wanted posters on every street corner of California. 

“Roxanne,” Declan said softly. “Please. Even with you living all the way across the country, I’m still your Dad. I gotta make sure.”

His daughter crossed her arms, pulling her knees up to her chest even with the uncomfortable seat belt cutting into her collarbone. “Yes, James is good to me.” Though that alone felt a bit unconvincing, and she audibly swallowed before following, “More like, perfect to me. He listens to me ramble about songwriting, always makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, we never fight… We spend as much time together as possible and I’m really happy being with him.”

For someone who writes love songs… Damn, that was cliche.

“Okay, alright… Thank you.” Her father conceded, seemingly content with the answer she had given him. There was a beat of silence before he gripped the steering wheel tightener, “And you’re being safe?”

“Dad!” 

Her exasperation was enough to get him to finally let out a little chuckle, “He’s your first boyfriend, Roxy! A boy and a musician. I’ve just gotta double-check!”

“We’re not-” The writer stopped herself from saying anything else in immediate response, doing her best to understand where her father was coming from. More than anyone, he understood her situation best. He had been a teenage boy and a musician - one who often proclaimed he hadn’t been safe when he was her age. His questions weren’t to annoy her, he just needed to fuel his peace of mind. “The last year has been the best year of my life. I’m not going to do anything that puts my future in danger.” Roxy turned away from the window, finally glancing over at her dad to catch his solemn nod of understanding. “And one day this might be easy to talk about, but it’s fresh, and it’s new, and… you’re my dad.”

Declan nodded again, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck at the response he had elicited from his daughter. “Yeah… Sorry for the ninth degree. I just love you. Loads.”

“Sorry for snapping back,” She mumbled, but she knew he didn’t care. As much as they’d pushed each other's buttons in the past, he’d never, ever been angry with her. “And I love you too.”

Catching his half smile as he kept his eyes on the road, Roxy felt herself begin to smile too. She had forgotten just what it felt like to have her dad around, and now the excitement of being home wasn’t all that confusing anymore. 

She didn’t miss being in Duluth, she missed being around her father. 

***

Finding something to wear to a show was always a struggle for Roxy. Back in Brand New Day, an old band t-shirt or flannel, some skinny jeans, and black boots were practically a uniform worn at every single gig. While on the Big Time Rush tour, her options were equally as simple - Something cute, matching whatever colors the boys were wearing that night, that didn’t make her stand out in the slightest. But to a basement show in her hometown? Nothing in her closet seemed like the right way to go.

She hadn’t even been planning on going to one over the holiday break, but she had run into her old lab partner, Catherine Endicott while at the grocery store earlier, and she wasn’t ever one to pass up an invitation to enjoy the local music scene. So many incredible bands and musicians had come out of Minnesota; It would be a shame to miss out on potentially seeing the next big thing right as they got their start. 

“Bob Dylan, The Replacements, Hüsker Dü, Big Time Rush… Minnesota is crawling with musical talent,” She rambled, twisting her hair up into a large claw clip and letting the ends stick up, framing the top of her head like a spiky crown, while speaking to a spaced-out James. “Now we get to see Cait’s band, Under the Bleachers!”

It sounded like he was humming along to the OneRepublic song on the radio station he’d picked, sitting on top of her messily made bed while she dug through her closet to try and find something she’d feel comfortable in. 

Fashion was always a mixed bag at underground shows, and that had never really bothered her before, but she’d found she favored more colorful and trendy outfits than the experimental and quirky style she often saw at house gigs. Typically, she’d just wear whatever and bolster the strange looks because she’d be with her dad - in his own grunge style - and he’d ward off any unwanted glances or sly comments. But going with James, the poster boy for everything mainstream, would not afford her such grace. 

So… Blend in but make it my own… She determined, reaching all the way into the back of her closet for the punkish outfits she used to wear while she was in Brand New Day. It felt like forever ago now, but that had been her style when trying to fit in with Mag and Dani at their shows, but these days, not so much. 

“So we’re going to see a show by a band you’ve never heard of because someone you kind of know invited you?” James asked, clarifying the situation she had hurriedly explained to him on the phone as she’d come home from the store. Of course, he had been more than eager to bike over to her place in his “alternative” outfit - which to him was a pair of nice black jeans, a black v-neck, and a black jacket - but was having some trouble grasping the concept of seeing an artist they didn’t know. 

Even though he couldn’t see her buried in the back of her closet, the girl nodded as she slid hanger after hanger toward her to check out all her options. “Duh. Most of the people at our first show didn’t know who we were either, but they came because of our amazing advertising!”

Oh… Good times, Roxy fondly recalled running around L.A. handing out as many Big Time Rush fliers as she could and inviting anyone to their show that would stop long enough to listen. Brand New Day’s advertising strategy had been similar, but she also had the power of the airwaves to help her out at the Project Pop radio station. 

Taking in her words, James continued humming to the radio, as Roxy’s fingers landed on a long-forgotten t-shirt she had been keeping tucked away for a special occasion. James’ first basement show seemed like as good a time as any, and she managed to pair it with a short, red skirt and a pair of black fishnet tights. 

 As quickly as she had found it, she ran into the bathroom to change, feeling much more like herself than she had figured she would as she admired her picks in the large mirror. Not only was this her first concert with James, but it would also be her first underground show since she left Brand New Day. A part of her was irrationally worried that she’d see Mag and Dani there, but Duluth wasn’t that small a city, and Cait hadn’t mentioned running into them during their brief conversation earlier. 

Then again… They did show up at the Palm Woods…

“When you say ‘we’ are you talking about Big Time Rush or your old band?” She heard James call through the closed door, just as she managed to slip the final component of her outfit on; A gold chain belt cooly rested against her exposed midriff after she’d tied up the shirt, matching the charm necklace hanging around her neck.

Aside from the time Kendall had stolen her journal and passed it off to famous internet blogger Deke, that had been the first time he’d asked her something regarding her musical past. Not that she didn’t mind sharing - with him at least - the question simply caught her off guard. Despite a long-standing friendship, their relationship was still in the beginning stages. Roxy’s heart skipped; It was nice that even after knowing each other quite well, there was still much for them to learn about each other.

Slowly opening the door to the bathroom and making a beeline back to her closet for a pair of black boots, Roxy considered her next words carefully, “Yes to both; But each time we did a significant amount of advertising. Word of mouth does wonders in any town… Ergo, we’re seeing Cait’s band.”

When she finally turned around to find the jewelry box on her dresser, she felt James’ eyes glued to her as she crossed the small room. It made her chest flutter, knowing he couldn’t stop staring at her, and just for fun, she used it to her advantage as she coyly glanced over her shoulder and shot him a wink before picking out a pair of matching earrings. 

“Rox…” He almost whispered, and the springs of her bed groaned as he stood up. In response, he brought a fist to his mouth before clearing his throat and she didn’t miss the unmistakable dusting of pink blushing the top of his ears. “I know you’re going to be freezing but is it bad that I don’t care? I never want you to take that off…”

In the vanity mirror she was using to check her outfit, she noticed he crept closer while he spoke, gaze suspiciously targeting her legs. When he reached out to wrap his arms around her, she playfully evaded his grasp with a nicely timed side-step.

“Oh, my God!” Roxy cried, cutting into his sentence with a few uncontrollable snorts of laughter and an accusatory finger, meeting him in the middle of the room. “You’ve got a thing for fishnets!”

She watched James freeze, glancing up at the ceiling fan lazily rotating around. In response, he let out a few beats of an innocent whistle before rocking back and forth on his heels. “Whaaat! No!”

Acting against his words, his hand reached out to grab hers at the same time his gaze flickered down just long enough to give her another once-over, noticeably lingering on her tights. When the writer opened her mouth again to tease him, he beat her to the punch and changed the subject, pointing to the old black and white band t-shirt she had tied up above her navel. “Who’s Dec and the Desires? Never heard you talk about them before.”

 Another question that made her giddy, and she grinned as she laced her fingers between his and pulled him into the living room toward the front door, making sure to grab a lighter from the kitchen junk drawer on the way out. “An underground punk band I love. They were really big in the late 80’s and early 90’s in Austin, Texas. Though, I figure you can put the rest together yourself, considering you know the lead singer.”

It seemed as though her words confused her boyfriend for a moment, as they stepped out of the Somerset’s one-story and out onto the freezing streets of Minnesota. Of course, James had been right, and Roxy was freezing, but Cait’s house was only a few blocks away. She could brave the cold in the name of fashion. 

Besides, I’ve got my own personal space heater…

“I do?” He asked, eyes darting around the empty driveway before his brows knit in confusion. 

Roxy carefully tugged him toward the mostly snow-cleared sidewalk, silently letting him know they’d be walking to their destination instead of driving; Someone had been caught up at work after taking an impromptu day off on Christmas Eve and kept Dynamo out late. “Yes, baby. Dec… and the Desires?”

James blinked, either still confused or taking in the pet name he wasn’t quite used to as he followed her lead.

Oh my…

“Declan?” She tried again, doing her best to keep from shivering too much as she and James traversed the icy path. “Somerset?”

“Oh! Your dad was in a band like you?” The genuine curiosity in his voice made her melt a smidge and she snugged his arm into her chest as she practically pulled him down the street to Cait’s. “I didn’t know that, Rox! Kendall and I talked his ear off about sports backstage when we could’ve been asking for music advice! He’s way nicer than Gustavo.”

Her heart involuntarily squeezed at the thought of James feeling comfortable going to her father for advice. “Yeah, they were really going places. Headlining local venues, sending for record labels, lining up an independently run U.S. tour, until…” She paused, realizing she’d never spoken with anyone besides her dad and old band about his small stint in the music industry. Until me. “He’ll talk your ear off about the glory days if you’d let him.”

 “It’s neat that the two of you have so much in common… My parents always had to drag me to stuff about Brooke Diamond Cosmetics - Thank God that’s all over,” James nodded, slinging an arm around his girlfriend as they walked. Try as she might to contain her shivers, he could feel the involuntary shakes and goosebumps riddling her arm under his fingertips. “What did I tell you about being cold?!”

Roxy knew he was changing the subject so she wouldn’t ask any follow-up questions about his statement. In all the time they’d known each other, this was the first in which he’d willingly brought up the company his mother ran. Besides, the writer had only made the connection that he was the Brooke Diamond’s son during an interview on the band’s summer tour - If James had wanted her to know that sooner, he would’ve told her.

Just as he was interested to learn more about her past, she was curious about his, but decided not to push her luck as they traveled on to Cait’s. James would share when he was ready and that was perfectly fine with Roxy.

~

They hadn’t even been in the crowded, boiling basement for 10 minutes when a guy around James and Roxy’s age, dripping in metal spikes and heavy chains, came up to them, asking the latter if she was ever in a band because she looked “kinda, sorta, super familiar.” The show wasn’t even close to starting yet.

The writer shrugged him off, playing with the rim of the red Solo cup in her hand when she brought up Big Time Rush - knowing full well that wasn’t what he had meant by his question - and introduced him to James who was far more versed in interactions like these. Just as quickly as the guy had come to speak with them, he wrinkled his nose at the thought of meeting a member of a boy band and disappeared into the sea of people around them. 

Five minutes, and Roxy’s nervous downing of her drink later, someone else stopped by the couple and asked her the same question. Though she wanted them to stick around a bit and ask for a few tips on how they got their sharp-edged eyeliner to stand out so nicely against their dark eyeshadow, her response was the same as before, as was the individual’s when she brought up the pop band she wrote and composed for. 

James, bless his heart, looked a bit uncomfortable with the sheer amount of people packed into the small space and stuck close to her side as she navigated them as best she could around the small space. Despite pouring him a cup straight from the ice-bathing keg’s tap in the corner closest to the entrance, he had declined the drink - “Need to bike home, babe,” - and passed it off to the girl in line behind them.

Then, she asked Roxy if she’d been in a band as well.

Just the thought of anyone associating her with Brand New Day made her nauseous, so she used to boy band line again, and the young girl scurried off to her group of friends, shaking her head at them as if they’d all been wondering the same thing. 

Ignoring the slight shake in her fingers as she reached for her boyfriend’s hand, Roxy told herself she brushed off the questions only because Brand New Day was openly establishing themselves as a duo now that they’d moved to Hollywood and signed with Galactic Records. Telling someone she used to play with them might make her look like a liar, or worse, a delusional fan girl. 

Yup, that’s totally worse than being a liar, she decided, squeezing James’ hand for comfort while waving in and out through the mass of individuals to try and get to the center of the room. I never want to be associated with them again.

“We’ll be able to hear the best from here!” Roxy assured James as they’d reached the middle of the crowd, having to raise her voice over the noise level, even though she couldn’t see where Cait had set up the instruments over everyone standing in front of her. In her opinion, the only downfall to house shows was the absence of an elevated stage. “Think you’ll be able to see alright?” 

The question was inherently dumb; One look over the cramped space told her he was one of the tallest people there - excluding those who had used an insane amount of hairspray to hold up their hairdos and those in platform shoes. 

Instead of answering her question, James squeezed her hand back before warmly saying, “You’re famous.”

No question mark, no hesitation. Spoken as though it were the truest of facts.

Taking another sip of her drink, Roxy held it on her tongue for a moment, letting the pungent taste linger before swallowing while she considered his words. Then, the sickly feeling from before returned, heartbeat drumming uncomfortably in her chest, and her immediate reaction was to deflect his statement. “You’re the one in a boy band.”

“No one’s asked me if I was in a band tonight.”

“No one here listens to that kind of music.”

When James realized he wasn’t getting anywhere with this conversation, he sighed and shifted his attention forward to the non-existent stage, while his girlfriend realized how combative her words were coming off. Which, unfortunately, they were designed to be. Brand New Day was the last thing she’d wanted to think about at the show tonight, but he wasn’t asking to be a bother. She knew that, But this wasn’t the setting in which she wanted to have that conversation.

It had just been a long time since she’d considered her past in the Duluth music scene. She never handled the unwanted feelings about her old band members and stolen intellectual property well, as evidenced by the slightly mean tone she’d taken with him. 

Though she thought she was over it after she vowed to move on after her last encounter with Mag and Dani at AM LA, actions certainly spoke louder than words. 

 Roxy took another sip of her drink, starting to feel the beginnings of a buzz itch at the back of her brain. Way to go Rox, drive off the one guy you’ve managed to keep around...

Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, she felt James squeeze her hand again. “Did you play a lot of shows in places like this? How could you stand the distinct… skunky and sweaty smell?” 

Saying a silent prayer of thanks he had moved on from the previous line of questioning, Roxy felt her rapid breathing begin to slow.

“More than I could count. Dani’s basement was a bit bigger than this one, though, but most times we’d jump in on someone else’s show if we begged them hard enough,” She shared in earnest, trying to tell herself it wouldn’t be as bad to talk it out with someone she cared about. “Loved every moment of it, too.”

By now, she had finally worked up enough courage to glance up at her boyfriend in the low light, finding him raising an eyebrow at her comment. 

“Even the skunky and sweaty smell! Got used to it after a while… But you,” Roxy reached up and poked at his cheek with a loose giggle, “You’ve been venue spoiled. Free snacks and gifts, clean green rooms, crowds of thousands screaming your name… Lucky, lucky boy.”

“That I am,” James assured her, bending down to press a much-wanted kiss to her cheek to let her know everything was alright. “Sounds like you get free drinks at shows like these though. That’s not a perk of our job quite yet.”

Of course, his timing was perfect to when she went to take a sip of her drink, causing her to nearly spit out what little she had left as she snorted a bit of buzz-induced laughter. “Only if you’re friends with the homeowner or you’re incredibly cute. So both of us are in the clear tonight, superstar, because those jeans you’re wearing make me wanna-”

The distinct ringing of microphone feedback surged through her ears, immediately cutting her off from her train of thought as Under the Bleachers took their places at the front of the room and soon, it was replaced with the deep kick of the drum echoing in her chest, carrying over the second-hand speakers. Wasting no time, the band jumped straight into their first song, leaving her little choice but to pull her boyfriend down for a quick kiss against the beginnings of a guitar melody meant to promise there was much more in store for him later. 

~

Lucky for James, Roxy cashed in on her silent promise about halfway through the set when the ear-splittingly loud music had thoroughly rattled her brain and she had managed to finish off her second cup of beer. The room was warm, sure, but he’d wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer a few minutes ago, and the temperature prickling her skin reached inferno-like levels just from his touch. Be it the heightened state she had found herself in, the adrenalin rush of her first show in so long, or the fact Cait’s band wrote excellent make-out music, Roxy had dragged James out of the crowd to the back of the room and spent most of the set’s remaining time pressed up against the basement wall with her lips locked onto his. 

That was, until the most pit opened, of course.

When the show ended, she nearly cried, but allowed James to navigate them up the staircase and out into Cait’s backyard with everyone else, before eventually making it back out to the sidewalk and heading in the direction of her house. 

“Tonight was perfect!” She yelled without regard for the late hour, throwing her head and hands back as the sound echoed off the houses on the road they took. “Can you believe Under the Bleachers are so, so, so good? We should call Gustavo - He needs a girl band and they need a record contract! An album too, lots of albums. So many albums…”

The heat of the basement had almost made them forget the below-freezing temperature outside, but Roxy could hardly feel it as she twirled down the sidewalk, humming what she could remember of the songs they’d played. At some point, her boyfriend had given her his coat, but she didn’t remember when. 

When she almost hit a metal mailbox on the street with her hands, James poorly tried to conceal his smile as he caught her around the wrist and pulled her into his side, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Careful, crazy girl. I know you punks like to break stuff, but let’s keep the damages to a minimum.”

At his statement, she squeezed her eyes shut and stuck out her tongue, shaking her head at the notion. “Not a punk! Not even close!”

Roxy managed to pop one eye open and glance his way, noting the way his head tilted to the side, bottom lip stuck out. It made her giggle.

“Wanna know a secret?” She said, fully intending to whisper it in his ear, but she was too busy continuing to stare at his mouth to focus on her volume. The pair had split her last cup of lukewarm beer; The relaxation it brought had caused her newfound loose lips. “I just like the music, making me the world's biggest poser! I’m not connected to the culture at all; Not like Dad.”

Hand moving up and down on her arm to spark some heat, the perplexed look on James’ face remained. “You think? From what you said earlier it sounds like the two of you were in pretty similar situations. Playing the shows, writing the music, connecting with others around town… Sounds pretty punk to me.”

“He and his band wrote about real issues,” Roxy blurted out, still failing to find the balance between what she should and shouldn’t say. There had been a reason she’d needed to share her last cup with James - The looseness had traveled to whatever part of her brain filtered her speech. “Racism, religious conservatism, labor rights… Shit was bad and they were able to channel it into a musical act of protest. All I ever managed to write about was stupid, trivial teenage stuff to pair over a punky-sounding guitar riff. I still do that, just.. Poppy now.”

James didn’t say anything for a moment, and when she turned to look at him as they rounded the corner of her street, she swore she could see the gears turning in his head. “It’s all about self-expression, though, right?”

A good point - one she hadn’t been expecting him to make. In fact, that had been something she had neglected to realize all night, despite that being one of the core tenets of the genre. 

“Getting in touch with your emotions, writing them out, being brave enough to share them… That’s hard for a lot of people, Rox.” The hesitation in his voice made her feel as though he was speaking from experience, but she certainly wasn’t in a state to ask him. “Whether or not you think it’s punk is up to you, but I think it’s pretty extraordinary.”

There were only two times in her life Roxy could remember being rendered speechless - The first time her dad played her Definitely Maybe by Oasis and the first time she’d met Dak Zevon - and now, this was a conversation she could file away in that folder as well. He wasn’t known for always saying the right thing at the right time, but she internalized his words, playing them over and over in her mind as they approached her front door. While she did, her heart was pounding to the point of ache, almost as though it were attempting to break free from her chest and make a new home for itself in James’ hands. 

Just as she was figuring out how to respond, he continued with a crack of a smile, “Especially extraordinary when the song you write is about me! Perfect subject matter for my perfect songwriter.”

***

On her third day home, Roxy woke up with a raging headache. 

I should’ve listened to James… was her very first thought, muttering out a curse at her last-night self for not drinking the glass of water he had grabbed for her before he’d left to go home. Two and a half cups typically didn’t affect her, but it had been quite some time since her last show. 

Through sleep-blurred eyes, she blindly reached out to her bedside table, flailing her hand around to try and find the glass, but her hand managed to catch a small paper note instead. Pulling it close to her face, Roxy had to squint to make out her boyfriend’s beautiful script as she ignored the pounding in her brain. 

Hope you drank this - If not, you’re in for a fun day tomorrow.

Asked your dad to tape the afternoon episode of MacKenzie Falls so you wouldn’t miss it if you slept in btw. Not sure how he feels about you drinking, but he gave me the stink eye when I walked you in. Hope he doesn’t blame me.

Had a great time tonight, thanks for inviting me. Can’t wait til our next show.

XX Superstar

Though the note was sweet, she cringed at the silly nickname she’d given him before the show started. In her defense, she wasn’t thinking all that clearly, but someone who works with words for a living certainly should have been able to come up with something more eloquent than Superstar. 

Oh, well she told herself, before throwing the covers off her body, not realizing the rapid motion would only aggravate her headache more, and greedily chugging down the tall glass beside the note. I’ll feel better after a shower.

And she did, mostly, after she adjusted to the bright white lights of her bathroom, though the ache in her head was slowly starting to carry down her arms and legs as the bruises from last night’s mosh pit began to fully form on her skin, blotting in dark clusters of greens, blues, and purples. 

When Roxy caught the damage to her body in the large mirror, it should have worried her, but instead, she ran a few fingers over them, careful not to poke them any further, and smiled. The sign of a good show…

By the time she had dried her hair and picked out her warmest winter outfit to see if her dad wanted to go for a walk on his day off, her cell phone began to ring, buzzing about 20 times louder in her ears thanks to her headache. 

It was a struggle to run from her bathroom all the way to her bedside table to turn off the smooth guitar solo of “One of Those Nights” by the Eagles, meaning Kendall was waiting for her to pick up the phone. It had been tough to pick out a song for his ringtone, considering how he had almost zero music taste outside of his own band, but during their guitar lessons, he’d asked her how quickly he’d be able to play the tune currently traveling through her speakers, so “One of Those Nights” it was. 

Flopping back down onto her bed, Roxy pressed accept and brought the cell to her ear. “Hello?”

“Roxyyy!” Kendall called, and his assistant winced at the sheer volume of his excited tone. “Two questions: Guess who passed their driver's test? And did you bring your skates home with you?”

“Katie passed?” The girl deadpanned, letting his snort carry over the line before she responded, “And yes, I did. I figured I might get dragged back onto the ice at some point.”

“Well, I know you suck at skating. So, as a payment for all your guitar lessons, allow me to help show you how we hockey heads master the ice!”

“Dude! Not all of us were born with ice skates strapped to our feet! 

Roxy focused on the insulting part of his statement and could almost hear the Knight smirk crawling across his lips as he continued, “Exactly! Which is why you and I are taking advantage of Duluth’s finest frozen lake this afternoon.”

While that did sound like loads of fun, Roxy still had more questions about his plan than answers. “And what does this have to do with you getting your driver’s license again?”

“My mom’s taking our van downtown to hang out with some of her friends.”

“And?”

Kendall coughed. “And I was hoping… In celebration… That the world’s best songwriter-assistant would let me drive her ancient truck around town a bit before we hit the ice.”

“Why do the four of you think you can just drive my cars around whenever you want?”

“We can stop by the grocery store and I’ll buy you this month’s Pop Tiger.”

“Deal! See you in 20!” 

~

By the time Roxy had followed Kendall's texted instructions for how to get to his place from the main road, it was nearly too late for her to realize her beaten-up truck was almost out of gas. So, when the blond opened the driver's side door and his assistant slid over the bench seating to the passenger side, she was more than happy to pass Dynamo off. 

“Driving a car is a huge responsibility,” She told him jokingly, attempting to put on her most authoritative voice as her friend climbed behind the wheel, tossed his skates and two hockey sticks in the backseat, and adjusted the mirrors. “Taking care of the car is just as important as taking care of yourself. Making sure there’s wiper fluid, getting the oil changed every 3,000 miles, making sure there’s enough gas in the tank…” Rolling his eyes, Kendall was quick to combat her words with a “Yeah, yeah, Rox, I already know all that junk,” but she watched his eyes flicker down to the dashboard to check all the lights and gauges before putting the car into drive, narrowing. “You’re not getting anything but a magazine off me.”

“Isn’t it your mom who always preaches love and kindness and helping others whenever you can?” His assistant hummed against the stereo, observing the idyllic houses they passed by as they exited Kendall’s neighborhood. 

“Roxy-”

Without thinking, she immediately cut him off to pretend as though she was reading a sensationalized news headline in one of her favorite magazines, “Kendall Knight, international pop star, refuses to help Big Time Rush’s number one fan after she grants him a massive favor!”

There were a few seconds without a response, Roxy’s tape still spinning in the background, before Kendall sighed, “You’ve got to stop hanging out with Katie.”

“Now you don’t want your sister to have a talented, confident role model to look up to?” 

At the very least, that comment elicited a bit of laughter from her friend, who reluctantly turned the wheel to pull Dynamo into a gas station once they found themselves closer to town. “Talented? Undeniably. But confident…”

When she glanced over at him and noticed his raised brow once he’d parked in front of an open pump, she reached over the console and shoved him in the shoulder when she couldn’t hide her own grin, “I’m going to start charging you for guitar lessons, asshole.”

Dynamo’s ancient door screeched open. “Any chance I could get a friends and family discount?” 

The last thing Kendall heard before closing the door was a very loud snort, “You wish.”

~

Thirty minutes, and what she suspected was likely Kendall’s form of payback, later, Roxy was regretting her jokingly harsh words as she stood stranded in the middle of the large frozen lake he had taken her to. “I’m sorry! Hear me? I’m so sorry! Lessons are free for life! And I won’t complain when you don’t practice between sessions! And I’ll stop making you play songs only I like!”

As the blond whizzed by her, going so fast and getting so dangerously close to where she stood she almost slipped off her skates, he just cackled before skating off in a new direction, looping around, and doing it again. He was running circles around her, even managing to spray some ice her way and add to the chill creeping into her bones purely from being outside in the Minnesota winter, but still looked completely in his element. 

The only time she’d been to the ice rink with the boys had been after their exhausting battle with Mercedes Griffin to secure their spot as Rocque Records sole band after their demo tracks had been completed. Though it had been ages ago, and Roxy had spent most of her time attached to James while he helped her scoot around the rink, she remembered the high speeds at which her friends had sped around the arena as they played their own version of literal freeze tag. She could only imagine what they’d look like at a hockey game, weaving in and out between each other and their opponents, slapping the black rubber puck back and forth around the playing field.

While that sounded more like a nightmare to the writer, she could see the determination in Kendall’s narrowed eyes as he skated around, even if it was only to torture her, and the pure power it took to have even an iota of control over his direction, speed, and balance. Even without the pressure of a cheering audience, a stick in his hand, or the pounds of gear covering his body, she knew he was pushing himself to do his very best; The same look often appeared on his face during Big Time Rush’s dance practices. 

To Roxy’s credit, she wasn’t completely stuck either. Kendall had been kind enough to give her some basic pointers when it came to skating on a natural surface, so she didn’t have to spend the whole time clinging to his arm, but at the rate he was zooming around, she was worried if she moved, she’d find herself right in the middle of his path and collide into a big bloody mess. So, she resigned herself to bundle into her red puffer jacket and wait until he finished having his fun. 

Which he did after about a dozen more laps around his assistant. 

“Come here!” He called out to her, finally coming to a stop by the edge of the ice. It was close to where the pair had trailblazed through the small section of wood from the parking lot, so he had dropped the hockey sticks and puck he’d brought in the snow bank. 

Slowly but surely, Roxy managed to get herself over the rough, yet slippery surface without falling, and though she didn’t know a thing about playing ice hockey, she was happy for the small amount of stability the stick granted her once she took it from the blond. 

The writer watched as Kendall scooped the puck up from the powder it rested on and flicked his wrist, throwing it out over the ice like a frisbee before he took off after it, with the same determined look he had before. In a flash, he’d caught up to it and slapped it across the lake with a tight snap! before glancing back over his shoulder to see where Roxy had gone. 

“What’s the hold-up?”

Roxy blinked, still leaning on the stick in her grasp for support. “Uh… Am I supposed to be chasing it too?”

Throwing his arms up in exasperation, Kendall waved his stick above his head, “Obviously! This game isn’t fun with only one player.”

“It’s not much of a game when you’re leagues faster than me!” She protested, almost catching herself off balance when she tossed up the hand holding the stick. 

“Well, how else are you gonna get better?”

Ugh, she grumbled before tentatively pushing off her back leg, how am I supposed to dispute that? “Who the hell died and made you coach?”

Not her best rebuttal, but one that left her feeling satisfied all the same once she finally reached his side. 

In an instant, he took off after the puck again, and this time, she followed.

“Daniel Rogers, beginning of my sophomore year,” He quipped, though Roxy could barely hear him as the distance between them grew. “And not coach - captain!”

When he finally reached the puck across the way, he shot it back in Roxy’s direction, and she did her best to hit it right back. Unfortunately for her, however, she completely whiffed it, and while the puck sailed right past her, the sheer force she had attempted to put into her slapshot sent her tumbling to the ice. Had she not been so roughed up from the night before, it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much when she connected with the solid ground. 

The shock to her system ran straight from her backside and through her spine; Roxy sucked in a sharp breath of air. 

Seconds later he was by her side, hockey stick clattering to the ground as he hauled her off of the ice and back onto her feet like it was no big deal. “Jesus, Rox, take it easy!”

First, it’s “How else are you gonna get better?” Then it’s “Take it easy!” Familiar heat of embarrassment climbed up her body, and she hoped if Kendall noticed any splotches of red forming on her skin, he’d chalk it up to the frigidity of the weather. With a weak smile designed to mask her wince as she found her footing again, she joked, “Probably not a good idea to make me goalie, Captain.”

“Oh, I’d never dream of it, believe me,” He whistled, letting go of his grip around her arms once he was sure she’d be able to stand again. “Carlos Garcia is the best damn goalie this town has ever seen… There’s no one else I’d trust in front of the net. They don’t call him “Shutout Sensacional’ for nothing, you know.”

“They call him what?” Roxy giggled in response, half at the silly title and half at Kendall’s complete butchering of the Spanish term, though she certainly wanted to know more. “Do all of you get nicknames?” 

Grinning, Kendall began to skate toward the puck again, and this time, his assistant eagerly followed after him. Still not as fast, but at least the distance between them was respectable this time. 

“It doesn’t sound as cool when you put it like that,” He huffed, managing to shoot the puck back toward her, much slower this time so she actually had a chance at passing it back. “James is Pretty Boy for obvious reasons and Logan is ‘Tensie on account of how tense ‘e is and-”

When the blond cut himself off, Roxy assumed he was refraining from sharing his as she finally managed to rear her stick back and sent the puck flying his way, “Oh, yes! Did you see that?! I did it!” The smile lighting up Kendall’s face as he took off toward her poorly aimed pass made her light up equally as bright, “But that doesn’t mean you don’t tell me your nickname either, Captain!”

When he caught up to the puck, instead of shooting it her way, he kept it in his possession as he raced back toward her. His moves were similar to before, circling around her as quickly as he could, all while keeping the puck under the control of his stick. 

“Surrounded!” Kendall said between breaths as he went around again and again. 

Still coming down from her high of managing to get a pass in, Roxy chuckled at his actions, having half a mind to hold her stick out and catch him off guard if he wanted to keep annoying her. “I know I’m surrounded! Don’t wear yourself out there, Cap. I might be able to get the puck away from you after a few more circles…”

Kendall came to a dramatic stop, kicking up more flakes of ice with his skates as he turned his feet to angle the blades and threw up a peace sign with his free hand. “You misunderstand. Two words: Sir. Rounded.”

“Oh, a little knight pun. How adorable,” His assistant scrunched her nose up as she teased him. “Very clever use of your - two words - Sir. Name.”

Bringing his stick to hers with an annoying crack, Kendall signaled it was time to start up their game again by sticking out his tongue at her equally terrible pun. “Catch me if you can, Roxstar!”

As quickly as they could, Kendall and Roxy kicked off their back legs and staked off toward the puck, blades carrying them across the ice faster than ever before. 

Maybe Kendall’s right… I am getting better at this.

~

It took forever for Dynamo’s archaic heater to kick in once the singer and his assistant climbed back into the truck’s cab, placing their skating and hockey equipment in the backseat before peeling out of the parking lot and heading back toward town. 

“So, are we planning on picking up Shutout Sensacional, Pretty Boy, and ‘Tensie? We haven’t hung out together in a while,” Roxy asked, digging through the truck’s glove box to try and find a tape she wanted to play on their 20-minute journey. By “a while” she’d only meant a few days, but the five of them were so used to being around each other all the time, it was almost strange they hadn’t done something together in Duluth. 

Drumming his fingers along the cracked wheel, Kendall sighed, “Would you believe me if I told you I was a bit worn out? I’ve lost my stamina…”

“Boo hoo.” Popping a cassette into the player, Roxy turned the volume dial a few notches to the right. “It’s been a while since you’ve been on the ice, man, cut yourself some slack.”

“Oh, that reminds me! One of the guys on the MAHS team, Hawkins, is throwing a New Year’s get-together on Thursday. Think you’d wanna come?”

Taking in the gorgeous sight of the snow-covered pine trees on the side of the highway, Roxy tilted her head, “A normal get-together or a Big Time Rush get-together?”

“Definitely a Big Time Rush get-together; His parents are out of town,” He replied, which was just codeword for “party!”

Slowly, the writer nodded. “If he doesn’t mind the four of you taking a plus one, I’d be happy to come.”

He kept his eyes on the road, but Roxy could just imagine the sparkle mixed in with the foresty green of his irises at her answer. “Sick! All the guys are going to be so stoked to meet you.”

At that notion, Roxy felt her stomach flutter. James had learned plenty about her last night, voluntarily and involuntarily, and now it was her turn to get to know more about him through his friends at Mountain Aire. “It’ll be nice to meet some of the people I was supposed to go to high school with,” she mused. “I didn’t really get to know anyone during my first few weeks there.”

“Everyone on the team is super chill for a bunch of guys that play a pretty violent sport. They’ll be sure to tell you all the embarrassing stories about the four of us they can.”

“Thank God. You boys all tell the same stories over and over again. I’ll be glad to get some new ones to make fun of you for…”

Kendall scoffed before reaching out and poking her in the arm, “If you dish it, you better be prepared to take it!”

In response, Roxy blew a raspberry. “You have to be nice to me or I’ll stop writing your songs!”

“Oh, whatever!” The blond huffed over the soft music. “You’d never do that.”

“Yeah… You’re right. Never, ever,” She giggled back, realizing she may have threatened that one too many times now for it to hold any weight. 

By the time the pair made it back into town, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the road ahead in a soft golden glow. It was hard to imagine they’d been out for most of the day, but the aches beginning to set into Roxy’s legs certainly reminded her of the time they’d spent on the ice. While fun, skating was cruelly physically demanding.

No wonder they can dance around on stage for hours and make it look easy… Roxy got winded just thinking about it. 

After a quick stop at the Sherwood to pick up her promised magazine, and an unpleasant encounter with Kendall’s old boss who practically begged him to take the night shift, the pair pulled up to the Knight’s abode. Grabbing the stuff from the back seat, the frontman reluctantly slid out of the driver’s seat and out onto the street while his assistant took her rightful place behind the wheel.

While waiting for him to enter his house before driving off, Kendall was cut off on the small section of cleared sidewalk by his little sister, dashing in the direction of Roxy’s car. 

“Roxy, Roxy, Roxy! I need you to take me somewhere!” Small cross-body purse slung across one shoulder, Katie Knight tore down the path and into Dynamo’s passenger seat so swiftly it made the writer’s head spin. 

Are all of the Knights that fast?

When Roxy didn’t respond quickly enough, Katie poked her in the arm, “Please? Please?”

Whatever it was, it must have been urgent. Katie usually avoided begging whenever possible, often choosing more surefire ways of getting what she wanted, like blackmail. 

When she looked beyond the young girl, to Kendall through the window for some sort of answer, he just shrugged, then trudged back into the house before closing the front door. 

“Uh, does your mom know you’re going out? It’s kinda late, Katie,” Roxy cautiously asked. She had no issue taking the young Knight anywhere she wanted to go, but Mrs. Knight was quite strict when it came to her kids and their curfews. Hell, Mrs. Knight thought Katie still needed a babysitter; There was no way she would cool with her daughter taking off at this time of day. 

Katie and her brother rolled their eyes in the exact same annoying way, “Mom’s still out with her friends. She won’t get mad at you and she won’t get mad at me… Unless I get caught.”

Gripping the steering wheel, Roxy narrowed her eyes. 

“And I’ll buy you the new edition of Pop Tiger!” 

“Oh,” The writer loudly sucked in a breath to bug the girl sitting beside her. “Your brother beat you to it. It’s a good edition too - Joe Jonas mini-mag inside and everything, so don’t tell James! He’ll try and steal it from me.”

“Please?” Katie tried again, and the older girl made the mistake of glancing her way.

She knew better than to fall victim to the girl’s puppy dog eyes, but as Katie stared her down and puffed out an equally sad pout, Roxy felt utterly horrible for protesting. Big brown teary eyes and a quivering bottom lip really got to her, and Katie was certainly using that to her advantage; Even reaching out to the stereo’s controls and switching the music from one of the cassettes to a classical music channel that just happened to be playing a sad symphony. 

That was the one thing that didn’t fly with Roxy, “Fine! Just leave my radio alone!” 

Next to her, Katie hissed out a “Yes!” while eagerly clipping her seatbelt in, beaming, as the writer switched the settings back to how she liked them. 

“Where to then?” Asked the driver, feeling a bit like a chauffeur, placing the car into drive. 

Picking up her purse, Katie shook it, making what sounded like a large collection of coins inside clank together. “The arcade!”

***

Tucked away on an old, pothole-ridden side street in Downtown Duluth, the retro Lunarcade had been in operation for as long as the writer could remember. While she’d only been a handful of times with her father, and once at the end of the last year for a birthday party Dani had thrown, it always looked and sounded exactly the same. 

Rows upon rows of aged video games filled the small hole-in-the-wall, flashing bright colors and releasing attention-grabbing sounds to try and draw in anyone who walked by. Newer games toward the front, older games toward the back, and a row of pinball machines right down the middle. 

“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” Roxy thought out loud, finding it difficult to hear the thoughts in her head against the chatter of patrons, the pop station playing on the speakers overhead, and the sounds from the machines. Examining the space to try and remember where her favorite games were, she narrowly missed Katie darting off between the rows as if she were a bat out of hell. 

The writer was a bit taken aback, I’m not that unpleasant to be around… Am I? before resigning to the fact that when she was Katie’s age, she also never wanted to be around her father whenever they went places together. Being right on the cusp of her teenage years while not quite able to be independent quite yet was probably hard enough for the young girl, so Roxy let it go, digging around in her mini backpack to try and find her wallet. 

Of the few bills she had, she headed to the counter to break them and was greeted by a nice, young woman who happily gave her a small plastic cup full of quarters in exchange. 

Soon enough, the writer was lost in a world of pixelated graphics, joysticks, and button mashing as she roamed up and down the aisles, stopping at whatever machines caught her eye. The narrow pathways were almost impossible to traverse, especially when multiple people crowded around a machine, but she managed well enough, expecting to bump into Kaite at some point. 

While not much of a game player herself, she still had some fun, especially on a handful of the older machines she and her dad used to play when she was younger. She had even passed a few she remembered playing with Mag and Dani, stopping at her favorite, Space Invaders. Last time she was here, she’d set the high score and had been met with an eruption of celebration from her friends but now, as she popped her quarters into the coin slot, all she received was the game’s soundtrack.

Thirty seconds later, her character was dead, and she let out a displeased grumble. Not only was she out of practice, but when the score screen flashed by, she noticed ROX was nowhere to be found in the top ten. 

Another handful of quarters and she performed better this time around, but still nowhere good enough to put her name up on the board with her Space Invaders-loving peers.

So there she stayed, until her quarter well ran dry, and she nearly kicked the leg of the machine out of frustration. 

Maybe it’s time to back off… She cautioned herself, resigning to pull away from the restored rectangular machine and weave through the aisles to the snack counter for a consolation prize. Some M&M’s or a Peppy Cola should cheer me up…

As she rounded the corner, she accidentally bumped into a kid holding two canned sodas and managed to save one she knocked out of his hand from falling to the ground.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She told him, making sure he was balanced again before handing the cold can back over. “Are you alright?”

In response, the boy just smiled, running a hand through his dirty blond hair before taking the can back. “Yeah, all good. How about you, Miss?”

“All good,” Roxy parroted, waving one hand to show it was no big deal. “The pop should be alright, but if it explodes when you open it, come and find me. I’ll get you something else.”

As he opened his mouth to respond, someone cut him off. “Ray? What’s the hold-up?”

From one of the rows leading to the snack bar, a familiar voice called out to the boy Roxy presumed she was talking to. When she looked up from the boy in front of her, she and Katie locked eyes, and the young girl turned as white as a ghost - Save for the red forming on her already rosy cheeks.

No way…

Ray looked over his shoulder, a wicked grin forming on his face, “Hey! Sorry. I just bumped into this lady here. If you shake up the can before you open it, she said she’ll buy you a second one.”

“That’s not-”

Before Roxy could get another word out, Katie grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the many, many rows of the arcade, presumably hoping to get lost among the flashing lights and sounds again. 

Forgetting her own quest for a snack, Roxy’s hand immediately flew to her back pocket, whipping out her phone and pressing the first number on her speed dial. 

When the dial tone connected, she didn’t even wait for a greeting before she exploded over the receiver, “James, you are never going to believe what’s happening to me right now!”

His garbled, “What?” came through the speaker. “Is everything alright?”

“I think I just took Katie out on her first date!”

~

The car ride home was eerily silent, with neither Katie nor Roxy saying anything at all. No one even bothered to turn the radio on.

While she turned off the side street and back onto the main road, Roxy glanced over to Katie and tried to hide the obnoxious smile that had practically been plastered on her face since her realization Katie might have been on a date. There was nothing on Earth she wanted to talk about more at this moment; How they’d met, who asked who out, what she liked about him… On the other hand, it was clear Katie wanted to talk about anything else, based on the way she gripped her seatbelt until her knuckles were white and stared out the window. 

It was oddly reminiscent of the conversation she and her father had while on their road trip, except now the roles were reversed. Roxy made a mental note to apologize to her dad again later. 

After a few more minutes of speechless agony, Roxy decided to break the silence. “I’m not going to ask you about it if you don’t want to talk about it…”

No response from Katie, just another thousand-yard stare out the window. 

“...But I promise if you do, I won't tell your brother anything. That’s kind of a central tenet of girl code.” 

The mention of Kendall seemed to make the girl tense up again, so Roxy decided to drop the subject entirely. If her words were going to do more harm than good, the least she could do was shut up for the remainder of the ride. 

With a soft clearing of her throat, Roxy switched the stereo on as she navigated back to the Knight’s residence. “What Goes Around…/…Comes Around (Interlude)” by Justin Timberlake surrounded them and the writer eagerly hummed along.

Not even halfway through the song, her passenger reached out and switched it off - which still annoyed the shit out of Roxy - before letting out a large sigh. 

“How did you know you liked James?” 

The driver blinked, the question catching her off guard, and she glanced over to see Katie looking back at her with wide eyes. She’d never been this vulnerable with her before, normally all of Katie’s questions were about the entertainment industry or asking if Roxy wanted a new manager in six years.

As she thought back to the beginnings of her relationship, a bit of heat licked up her spine. Was it embarrassing? Sure, but Katie had asked in such earnest, that it would be wrong of her not to share.

“Well…” Roxy began, struggling to put her feelings into words. “I realized I liked him when we flew back out to Los Angeles together. He was so determined to make his dream a reality, which was inspiring in itself, but he was also very adamant that I was along for the ride with him.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Katie nodding, but the young girl didn’t say anything, so she continued on. 

“He took care of me on the flight over, he comforted me the first night in our apartment, he stood up for me at Hawk Records… And when we reunited with the other guys at Rocque Records he was just so happy. When I saw his smiling face it just… clicked. But, honestly, I think it took me quite some time to figure that out. Maybe… I’d liked him since the night of the dance, but I was too stubborn to let myself realize it.” 

More nods, but at least Katie had uncrossed her arms. 

“And, he’s not too bad on the eyes…” Roxy joked, reaching over to elbow her friend when she finally snorted out a laugh. “Whenever we’re in a room together it’s like we gravitate toward each other. And, God, Katie, he makes me laugh all the time, and my heart beat at a million miles an hour, and when we kiss-”

“Alright! Enough! Enough!” Katie cried as her hands flew to cover her ears, sticking her tongue out in disgust followed by an overexaggerated “Blegh!”

Her reaction made the writer crack up so hard that she nearly missed the turn into the neighborhood, whipping Dynamo around the corner far faster than he was built for. 

“You asked!” She protested, just to bug Katie again. “But in all seriousness… It’s hard to describe - I just know that I do. I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t want to imagine my life without him.”

That statement was followed by more silence, and Roxy feared she may have gone a bit too far with her answer, until Katie shifted around in her seat, playing with the zipper on her purse. “I don’t think I like Ray like that.”

“And that’s perfectly fine! That’s what dates are for, to give you time to figure it out.”

“If he asks me out again, what do I say?” This question was asked in a far less confident manner. 

Just as they pulled up to the Knight’s, Roxy put the car into park and turned to face the girl, “You tell him the truth. That you had fun today, but you’re just not interested in him like that. If he cares about you, he’ll understand.”

“And if he doesn’t?” 

Roxy’s heart sank at the thought, but she played it off as best she could with a smile, “Then you call me or your brother and we’ll wrangle the other three up. That goes for anyone who doesn’t give you the respect you deserve, okay?” 

“Okay!” Katie agreed, finally seeming as though she was getting back to being her normal self. When she nudged the door open, she stepped out and turned back to Roxy, “...Thanks,” and shut it before the driver got a chance to respond. 

“No problem,” Roxy chuckled to herself as she waited for Katie to get in the front door. Her drive home was also absent of music, but only because she was too busy thinking about James and all the reasons she loved being with him to notice. 

***

When she got home, her dad had dinner on the table and the two shared a lovely meal as they recapped their days. By the time they’d finished, Declan migrated to the living room and flipped on a TV movie to watch before promptly falling asleep fifteen minutes in like he usually did. The only thing he ever managed to stay awake for these days was football. 

Taking a spare blanket from their linen closet, Roxy draped it over him before turning the appliance and lights off before heading to her room for the remainder of the night. 

Once she finished cleaning up and changing into the PJs the boys had bought her, she noticed a collection of text messages on her phone’s home screen from Jo and Camille. 

J: Free soon? Miss you both and want to talk

C: yes! give me five to get away from this hectic house and I’ll set up a conference

J: Yesss! 

J: Roxy? Yoo hoo?

C: probably too busy macking on her boyfriend…

R: HEY!

R: AM NOT!

R: EVEN IF I’D REALLY LIKE TO BE!

J: BWAHAHAH

R: But yes! I’m free! Call!!!!

A minute later Camille’s ringtone, Beyoncé’s “Crazy In Love,” came through her phone’s speakers and the pair exchanged an excited greeting. They only paused their chatter for a moment while the actress added Jo to the line and waited for her to pick up, only for their greetings to repeat. 

All three of them were buzzing with information to share about their respective trips; So many things had happened over the last few days that were just too difficult to convey over a text message. 

Jo and Camille elected Roxy to go first, mostly because they wanted to hear about Kendall and Logan. While Roxy hadn’t heard much from her studious friend since he’d landed back home, she was happy to share about their chaotic Christmas saga, her date with James, her skate session with Kendall, and most importantly, Katie’s date. 

“...So yeah, we might have to give her the dating talk when we all get back to Hollywood. Only if she brings it up again! It seemed like it was hard for her to talk about,” Roxy concluded, as she cradled her phone between her cheek and shoulder, filing her nails. She was long overdue for a manicure. “Which color should I go with? Blue or yellow?”

“Blue!” Jo answered at the same time Camille responded, “Yellow!”

The three erupted in a fit of giggles. 

“We’ll keep a lookout for guys her age at our auditions, won’t we Jo?” The ravenette asked.

“Duh! I’m pretty sure there’s a guy on the fifth floor she plays video games with, too. Kendall was pretty suspicious but I managed to convince him otherwise… As Roxy began to apply the first coat of paint, alternating colors on each finger, Camille went next. Her holiday had been chaotic as well, but purely because of the sheer amount of people her family had decided to house in New Windsor, Connecticut. On top of Camille, her parents, and five brothers, they had three additional guests in the five-bedroom home which made it virtually impossible for anyone to get any peace and quiet. 

“Things are dying down, so it’s not all that bad. Gabriel and his husband are leaving tomorrow, so we’ll be down two. My mom almost had a fit though - crying about how she never gets to see them.”

Camille’s oldest brother and his husband lived in upstate New York, both plastic surgeons with busy, busy schedules. She had said it was a miracle they’d even been able to get a few days off to come down and visit. 

“Elliott, Claude, and their roommates Roshan and Asa are staying until January like me. Even that was a lot for her to take in. She’s acting like we’ve already left! I have no idea what she does while we’re all gone but I know it drives Jules and Jean-Luc crazy.”

Elliott and Claude, twins, and their roommates had come home from college to spend the break together. Jules, only a year older than Camille, was finishing up his last year of high school before joining his brothers at Northeastern University. Jean-Luc was in the transitional stage between graduating and trying to find his first career-oriented job, so he was often around the most to see to Camille’s mother while she and her father were away in Hollywood. 

It was hard to process all of this while Camille was talking. Each time she threw out a new name, Roxy had to go through her mental list and recall everything she had shared about them over the course of their friendship. While it was rare she talked about her family, what she did share was chock-full of information about each and every member. 

“And you’ll never believe this…” Camille continued in a hush, as Jo and Roxy both let out a teasing, “Ooh!”

The writer could imagine the blush forming on her friend’s porcelain cheeks; Judging by her tone, this was a voice she only brought out when talking about Logan, so maybe something had developed on that front after their abrupt break up in October. 

“Roshan asked if I wanted to go to a New Year’s party with him and I think I might say yes. I’ve been waiting for Logan to forgive me for so long… I don’t know-”

On the other line, Jo squealed, “Camille! If you want to go, just go! It’s only a party. With college guys!”

Roxy was still frozen mid-stroke, undoubtedly overloading her ring finger with far too much of the electric blue polish she had found in her bathroom. Oh, God. What’s Logan going to think… 

“Yeah!” She chimed in, trying to sound as excited as Jo. “Sounds super low-stakes and you can get to know him better.”

Maybe some part of her was hoping she and Logan would get back together, but Camille was right, it wasn’t up to her at all. Logan was still working through what had happened between them, which was perfectly understandable, but she also knew how Camille was bouncing from one thing to the next. Being stationary for too long made her anxious, hence her penchant for jumping from different types of creative projects to another. If she was tired of waiting for him to make his decision, of course she was thinking of moving on. 

“Like I said, I don’t know… It feels a bit quick, but I still have a bit to decide. I’ll keep you both updated, though… And that’s all for my turn, you next, Jo!”

Camille, spotlight lover, wasn’t always quick to turn the conversation away from herself, which told Roxy she was still a bit anxious about her decision, even if she was only in the beginning stages of making it. 

By the silence on the other line, she could tell Jo sensed it too, but soon enough, she began to report on her time in North Carolina. 

Like she had predicted, being back home was a mess. Between seeing her estranged mother and sister, which she was dreading, it was even worse because they’d brought along her mother’s new boyfriend. “Who brings a guy you just met to a family holiday?!” But, she was more than ecstatic to see her grandmother and said they’d spent the majority of their time together. Not only had she learned a new cookie recipe she was dying to make for her friends, but she and her grandma were learning to knit together. 

“It’s a bit old lady for me, but I’m making a beanie for Kendall… I hope he likes it.”

“Of course he will, he practically lives in them!” Roxy cut in, finally moving onto her second coat after saving what she could of her ring finger. “Especially if you hand make it… Are you kidding me? So romantic!”

Hearing Camille’s laugh after nothing from her line the last few minutes was comforting. “He’s at the ice rink, like, all the time, right? That’s a perfect gift!”

“Ugh, I hope so. I’ve been so stressed making it, I just want it to be perfect. All this time away from him is making me realize how much he means to me…” There was a long, noticeable pause on her end, but neither girl cut in. “I think I love him.”

Camille and Roxy screamed. So loud, it wouldn’t have shocked any of them if the sound waves had traveled all the way to Marion, North Carolina from Duluth and New Haven without the use of a telephone. 

Heart pounding at her friend’s confession, Roxy’s chest felt like a balloon had swelled inside. “Love?!” She cried. “My best friend is in love?!”

“She’s in love!” Camille confirmed, “Lovely, lovely, love!”

It sounded like Jo was about to add something on, when the sound of Roxy’s bedroom door flying open interrupted, and her half-asleep father stood in the doorway, blanket halfway on the ground, with a baseball bat. “Wha-?”

Of course, he hadn’t meant to scare her, but he most certainly did, and the bottle of pale yellow polish dropped from her hand and all over her floral-covered duvet.

“Dad!” She yelled, heart now pounding from excitement and fear, but she couldn’t care less about the mess she’d made. “Jo’s in love! She loves Kendall!” 

“I think!” The blonde added on, but it was mostly drowned out by Camille’s never-ending hoots and hollers. 

“Oh,” was all her dad managed, setting the bat down in the hallway once he determined his daughter was okay and tugging the blanket back over his shoulders. Declan raked a hand through his long hair. “Alright then, congratulations, darling.”

For a moment, he stood there and rubbed his eyes, before reaching out and blowing Roxy a kiss, closing her door again. Jo let out an intelligible sound from her end of the line and Roxy promised, “He’s the only person I’ll tell! I swear!” 

“And you!” Called Camille, and all three of them knew she was speaking directly to Jo. “You better tell him when you give him the beanie!” 

“No promises!” Jo bit back, and Roxy imagined the grin taking up her beautiful features. “But… That does seem like the best time to tell him.” 

***

Hardly able to sleep after learning such valuable information from her best friends, Roxy was tossing and turning all night thinking about Jo’s confession. How lucky she was to be experiencing such a euphoric feeling, one she could not only put into words but felt as though she needed to share with her partner. 

One day, I’ll feel like that too. Just the thought of it made her giddy. 

It was a bit of a shock when her phone rang early in the morning again, the opening chords to “The Scientist” by Coldplay this time, signaling something was up with Logan. 

When she answered, her voice was a bit groggy from sleep, but she did her best to put on a cheery tone. 

Turns out, Logan wanted to go shopping, citing a major sale at the Duluth mall, but he didn’t want to go alone. “I’ll drive and everything, my mother is off work and said we can take her car if you’d like.”

Sale at the mall? Roxy didn’t need to be asked twice before she hopped out of bed and pulled something on, meeting her friend outside about fifteen minutes later. 

Logan’s mother’s car was a far nicer ride than Dynamo was, which was to be said about most vehicles, but for her first time in a BMW, she was thoroughly enjoying it. No blown-out speakers, peeling leather seats, cracked windshields, or broken gauges, just pure luxury in the passenger seat as Logan flew down the open road. 

He was a much more reserved driver in Los Angeles, probably due to the sheer amount of other crazy drivers in the area, but back home, he was quite the speed demon. Maybe it was the rap station on the radio inspiring him or maybe he was more comfortable with the city’s roads, but they’d made it to the mall far quicker than she ever would have. 

Gotta love an after-holiday sale… She thought as he pulled her through the parking lot and into the first department store that caught his eye. 

The shopping trip had honestly lasted a lot longer than she’d expected; She felt a bit bad they hadn’t invited James along with them either. Apparently, Logan had accumulated quite the chunk of Christmas cash from his relatives and had decided to revamp his wardrobe.

And by “revamp” he mostly meant refresh - The sweaters and cardigans he already owned were getting rotated out for fresh new ones in the same neutral tones he loved. How he could wear these during the Los Angeles summer, she never understood, but that was what he preferred, so no one questioned him differently. However, she was able to convince him to let her pick an outfit out for him, something out of his ordinary closet with more of a “cool” vibe. 

Black leather jacket, a nice pair of shades, some tight jeans…

As they passed by rack after rack, sometimes Roxy would stop and pick something up as well, but her clothing choices were more appropriate for the California heat. James’ words from the other night stuck with her, so he was mostly making sure her items appropriately showed off her legs in a way that still made her feel confident and beautiful, while also potentially riling him up a bit. 

They even had what felt like a silly teen movie montage, trying on all of their outfits one by one in the dressing room and coming out to show the other to get opinions or change pieces out for ones that fit them better. 

By the time they’d covered almost the entire mall front to back, each of them was sufficiently shopped out and stopped by the food court for a little snack - What was a trip to the mall without some pretzels? - before hopping back in the BMW and heading back to their corner of town. 

“My moms are dying to see you again,” He confessed to her, never taking his eyes off the road, over the Dr. Dre track playing in the background. “Humor them and come over for dinner?”

Roxy wasn’t aware she had made such an impact on them back at their Duluth Big Time Rush show, considering she’d been a bit too preoccupied with James on her mind to really feel as though she was present in the moment. Both Sabina and Joanna mostly kept to themselves, but if she recalled they had a brief conversation about how well Logan was doing in Hollywood. They cared for him so much, and it was evident to the girl after one conversation with them, so there wasn’t any point in not stopping by to see them again. 

“Yeah, sure! That sounds wonderful,” She told him, watching as they passed the road into her neighborhood and down a few blocks to his. 

Logan beamed, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song, “Mom’s at work showing a house right now, but Mother has the afternoon off, which is rare. It feels like the hospital always needs her…”

The last time she’d been in Duluth, she’d brought up how strange it was for all five of them to live so close to each other, but never have met until their audition to James, and as they turned into Logan’s street, that statement felt even more true than before. He was probably a ten-minute walk from her, but state boundary lines had zoned her for a different high school. 

My life would certainly be much different had I met them earlier, Roxy concluded, though she wasn’t quite sure how. Maybe they’ve saved me from my terrible band and we would’ve started our own sooner…

She didn’t have much more time to consider it, because when they pulled up to Logan’s house, Roxy’s jaw visibly dropped. 

Mansion was a more accurate description of the sprawling two-story abode they pulled into the driveway of, opening one of two garages for Logan to park the BMW in. It was nearly impossible for her to get a good look at the entire home; the bright white paneling from ground to roof was so clean it was blinding and stood out gorgeously against the black and tan wood accents around the doors and windows. Of the other mansion she’d been to in her life, she’d already preferred this one’s modern style of architecture to the Spanish style of Gustavo’s. 

Of course, to Logan, this was a sight he’d seen millions of times, so when he popped open the car door and motioned toward the door that would lead them inside, he forgot to let Roxy take a moment to process. 

“Wow,” She breathed, finally managing to join him in the spacious garage, then the laundry room attached, and finally into the open kitchen space. “It must’ve sucked to move into the Palm Woods…”

The way her voice echoed off the high ceilings startled her, as she turned in place to take the impressive space in. 

“What do you mean?” He asked her, cocking his head while he opened the fridge to grab two cans of soda. “I get to live with my best friends… What more could I ever want?” 

Ugh, he’s so sweet, Roxy thought, following her friend into the living room and down a large hallway, before he stopped at a closed door and knocked a few times. Maybe your own room, or a gigantic kitchen, or a sweet ride-

“Come in!” came a cheery voice from inside, and the boy managed to press down on the handle despite both of his hands being full. 

When the pair stepped in, bookshelf after bookshelf surrounded them, completely covering the space from floor to ceiling - save the section towards the outside of the house and its massive bay window. 

What Roxy would give to curl up in James’ lap and read a book in the warm, shining sun…

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out among the shelves, peering down each long column they passed, “Brought a friend.”

“Hi!” Roxy tentatively called out as well, thinking it might be rude if she didn’t announce her presence right then and there. 

There was the sound of shuffling feet, and a few rows down, Sabina popped her head around one of the shelves, blazing blue eyes sparking the minute she laid eyes on her son. “Logie-Bear! You brought Roxanne!” 

“Don’t act like you’re more excited to see her than me…” He trailed off, speeding over to trap her in a hug. The way he buried his head in the crook of his mother’s neck was likely to hide his embarrassment from the silly nickname.

It was a bit of an awkward embrace, considering his full hands, and the giant medical textbook Sabina was attempting to keep her place in, but they made it work in their own strange way. 

“Thanks for having me,” The writer blurted out. It had been a long, long time since she’d been invited over to someone’s house. “You have such a lovely home.”

“That’s what a life of hard work and dedication will get ya!” Sabina winked, taking her arm from around Logan’s shoulders and pulling Roxy into a hug as well. “Both of you are right on track for that, huh?” 

Is she talking about being in a band? Or Logan being a doctor? 

Both kids nodded, watching as the woman tucked an old Polaroid photo of her, her wife, and Logan on her page then set her book back onto the nearest shelf, making sure the volume she was reading was in the correct numeral spot. The dark tan binding blended almost perfectly with her tan skin. “How does butter chicken sound for dinner? Your mom told me she was craving it earlier.”

As a guest, Roxy had no say in whatever was being made, she was simply along for the ride. Logan’s eyes widened in response, and his nodding from before grew more invigorated; A good sign if Roxy’d ever seen one. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She offered, now following Sabina and Logan from the library back to the kitchen, knowing her culinary skills weren’t as impressive as they could be.

Almost drowned out by the sound of her heels clicking on the tile floors, Sabina smiled over her shoulder, “Aren’t you just a doll for asking?! How about you and Logie go fetch some vegetables from the garden? I just know the two of you will make a wonderful salad…”

The garden? One almost completely covered in snow?

Logan must’ve seen the confusion written all over his friend’s face, so he wordlessly set the sodas he had grabbed down on the kitchen counter and looped his arm through Roxy’s, leading her away from the kitchen and through another long hallway. When they came upon two large glass doors, showing a breathtaking winter landscape in the backyard, she dug her heels into the ground. 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going out there without my big coat! I’m all Los Angeles acclimatized now!”

“Roxy, I promise you can handle, like, thirty seconds in the cold.” 

He didn’t wait for her reply, simply opening the door and tugging her through, and leading down a nicely shoveled cobblestone path to the side of the white home. All the while, she huddled into him, trying to steal as much of his body heat as physically possible - Though she almost missed the immaculately manicured bushes and pine trees covered in a light dusting of last night’s snow. 

Out over the large expanse of yard he showed her through, she noticed a small, frozen river running along what she assumed was the back line of the property that separated off into a large section of woods. No fence surrounding everything suggested they weren’t too worried about animals coming through and stealing their food. As they rounded the corner, she noticed some neglected-looking patio furniture, probably all soaking wet and frozen cushions, and some flower pots, completely empty. 

If the flower pots are empty- 

“Here we are!” Logan announced, and Roxy turned from where she was looking to take note of a medium-sized structure, constructed floor to ceiling with transparent, fogged glass panes. A door in the center opened as he pushed in on it, and soon enough the pair were out of the winter weather and back into something that felt a lot more like Hollywood than she’d ever expected in the Midwest. 

In front of them, four carefully constructed rows of soil were dug in the ground, running straight back from where they stood. Various gardening supplies, and the overwhelming smell of manure, surrounded Roxy and Logan as they searched the personal greenhouse for the necessary ingredients. 

“I think lettuce is over there…” Logan vaguely pointed off to the right, and Roxy followed his directions and took the farthest row to search, more than happy to spend as much time in the cozy, warm space as possible. “And tomatoes and cucumbers should be over here…” Taking off in the opposite direction. 

None of the plants were labeled, and she certainly didn’t have any gardening experience, so she gently lifted large leaves to see if they were bearing any other vegetables she thought might go well in a salad, before realizing she had no idea what lettuce looked like if it wasn’t sitting on the shelf in a grocery store. 

Thankfully, however, she happened upon a green, leafy plant she was 90% sure was a head of lettuce and squatted down to attempt to harvest it. Just as she reached out, she heard a soft mrow, and a jet-black cat with the biggest green eyes she’d ever seen sauntered through the vegetation and rubbed up against her outstretched hand. 

Like the greenhouse, the cat was warm against her skin, eagerly awaiting for her to continue petting its soft fur as if it were trying to capture all of her attention.  

“Uh, Logan?” She hesitantly called, but it seemed as though he was already making his way over to her with the tomato and cucumber he had been looking for. 

“Hm?” He mumbled, preoccupied with the food in his hands before the cat let out another mrow. “Hippocrates?” 

From where she squatted on the floor, still petting the gorgeous cat, she looked up and cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“What? He’s the father of medicine!”

Roxy just let out a chuckle in response, deciding to sit down on the least dusty part of the cobblestone path lining and coax Hippocrates over with a “Psst, psst, psst!”

Soon enough, the salad ingredients were all but forgotten when the animal settled down between her crossed legs, batting up at the fingers she dangled over him. “You never mentioned you had a cat! And such a cutie-patootie one at that!” 

The boy just rolled his eyes at her baby talk as they continued to play together. 

“Such a pretty kitty! Pretty kitty!” Roxy continued, now tickling his soft belly as he continued to play with her other hand. “With your fur so black it’s almost blue? You remind me of-”

Immediately she snapped her mouth shut, eyes widening, before she managed to say Camille’s name. It was not smooth in the slightest, and she noticed the way Logan temporarily froze while he was working on getting the head of lettuce off the underground stalk. 

Before she got the chance to apologize, the boy cleared his throat and got back to work, speaking in a hushed tone, “You can say ‘Camille.’ It’s not like some magic spell that’ll ward me off or something.”

“Ah… Then you’re far better than me. I still cringe whenever I hear Dak’s name,” Roxy responded, after giving Hippocrates some more tummy tickles to combat the turning of her stomach. “Even saying it just then made me feel nauseous.”  

“So, you’re telling me it won’t get better? At all? Rox, it’s been months since you and Dak broke up.”

“If you can even call what we had a relationship…” The writer chuckled. 

Is it me or is the greenhouse getting hotter?

Shifting uncomfortably, she hoped that would be the end of the conversation as Logan continued hacking away at the lettuce with the small tool he held in his hand. 

“She and I weren’t together much longer. Well, not officially.” 

“You two always did have that infuriating ‘will-they, won’t they’ thing going on.” 

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” He jokingly spit back, before removing the leafy greens and moving to sit beside her, reaching over to give Hippocrates a few scratches on the head. “Whatever you and James were doing was so much worse.”

Doing her best not to disturb the cat in her lap, Roxy shoved her shoulder into Logan’s with a shy smile. “That’s not the point of this conversation. If you’re asking me how I got over being cheated on, just go ahead and ask.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re over it to me…” Logan said, shoving his shoulder back into hers and startling Hippocrates to his feet. In a flash, he took off between the leaves again, off to find another warm corner of the greenhouse to curl up in. 

Roxy let out an offended gasp, “Of course I am! I wrote a song about it, made a lot of money, got to perform it at every show, and I have a super ultra-hot boyfriend who is way better than Dak ever would’ve been to me. I’m totally all well-adjusted about it and stuff.”

Their laughter roared through the space, bouncing off the glass walls until they were leaning on each other for support, gasping for air at Roxy’s ridiculously shallow statement. Two of the tomatoes Logan had been gathering up to take back inside rolled off his lap and off under one of the tables holding the innumerable gardening supplies, and Roxy had to use her quick reflexes to save the cucumber from the same fate. 

As he helped her off the ground, and they gathered up everything they had taken from the garden, Roxy stopped him before they ran through the freezing backyard and back into the house. 

“I’m not an expert or anything, but I think you just need to give it time. It might be something you think about a lot - and I mean a lot - right now, but in a few months, eventually you’ll start to think about it less and less, until eventually, you don’t think about it at all. The pain may seem permanent now, but I promise it isn’t everlasting.”

Logan bumped his shoulder into hers again with a small smile. “Thanks, Rox… And you’re right, I have been thinking about it a lot and…” 

His tone matched that of Camilles on their phone call last night; She knew exactly what he was about to say, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “It might be time for me to branch out, you know? Expand my horizons a little bit. Do you think it’s too soon for me to think about maybe seeing someone else?”

Rolling the cucumber between both of her hands, Roxy tried poorly to hide her audible gulp. “No, of course not. If you think that’s what you need to do… that’s what you need to do.”

“It’s just a thought!” He followed up, quickly enough for her to think he didn’t really mean what he was saying. Maybe something was still keeping him tied to Camille despite everything that had happened between them. “I don’t really know many other girls at the Palm Woods… It’s always been Camille.”

“Any girl at the Palm Woods, or elsewhere, would be lucky to have you, Logan,” His assistant shared, in earnest. “And I’m here for you, no matter what you decide.”

When they reached the door, that conversation came to its natural conclusion, and the pair braced themselves for the harsh winter conditions awaiting them outside. 

“Alright, ready?” Logan asked, slowly reaching toward the door to pull it open. At Roxy’s nod, he began to count down, “3… 2… 1… Go!”

The both of them took off toward the house, struggling to keep hold of all their vegetables as they ran laughing down the cobblestone path.

***

How Roxy let Carlos rope her into an early morning run, she didn’t know.

It had sounded like a good idea when he’d called her last night while she sprawled out on her bed, attempting to digest the delicious meal Sabina had put together for her, Logan, and Joanna. 

“I’m never eating that much again!” She’d promised him, agreeing to his request to take a run around his neighborhood. “I’m going to need to work all this off if I don’t want Jo to kick my ass at the gym this week.”

Carlos’ giggles burst through the other line, “Sounds like a plan then! I’ll see you in the morning at Kamford Gardens. Oh! And I’m bringing a friend, hope you don’t mind.”

Not at all, Roxy figured after they’d hung up. If she was already going to meet the other members of the boys’ hockey team at the New Year’s party, there was no harm in getting to know another new face. I wonder what they’ll be like.

From the brief bits and pieces Roxy heard about the band’s life before fame, all four of them had been quite popular; It came with the territory of being some of the best athletes on the school's most important sports team. 

At Twin Oaks, Roxy’s first high school, that sport had been football, and it was no secret that the players on the team were given special treatment by just about anyone they came in contact with. From students, to teachers, to admin… Everyone wanted some sort of connection with their hometown sports stars. Though it was a sweeping generalization, she assumed the treatment at Mountain Aire was similar for those talented enough to make the hockey team.

Now, Roxy sat under the large gazebo on the outskirts of the park, waiting for Carlos and his friend to arrive so they could get a move on. After the run, she was planning on heading home to freshen up and meet with James for a date. 

Most of the snow was still piled high from the storm a few days ago, but the city had done a wonderful job at clearing and salting the paved trail around the park. No major ice patches or dangerous snowbanks should stand in their way during their workout and they had the privilege of taking in the incredible sites around them. Roxy had never been to Kamford, but Carlos was pretty adamant that it be the location for their run. Wide sprawling fields, a slowly melting lake, and plenty of benches along the trail made Roxy a tad nostalgic for the park closer to her house. It was a staple for her and her father when they were younger; At times he was off work early they’d often take a few laps around the area before bed to work off any excess energy.

You certainly don’t get sights like this in Los Angeles… Sure, Griffith Park was nice, but nothing felt as homey and familiar as the snow-covered scene before her. Roxy could do without the shivering, however, considering all of her workout clothing had been purchased in California. As she jammed her hands into the thin pockets of her sage green windbreaker, she prayed the thermal leggings she’d dug out of her drawer would be enough to keep her warm until they began their run. 

“Roxyyy!” Someone called from behind her, and she quickly stood from the park bench she was sitting on. A small twinge of anxiety bolted through her, hopefully Carlos’ friend is nice, when she turned to face him. 

The first thing she noticed was his outfit - shorts,  t-shirt, no helmet, despite the below-freezing temperatures turning their exposed bits of skin bright red. Second, his bright, dazzling smile as he jogged over to her. And third, the large dog running beside him, attached to a hot pink leash and matching collar. It stood out nicely against its snow-white coat, littered with black dots, and hot pink booties around all four paws. 

By the time they caught up, Carlos almost crashed Roxy into a hug when he failed to slow down fast enough, which the dog was more than eager to join in on, jumping up on back paws to try and be a part of the action. 

After a cordial greeting between the two friends, the Dalmatian leapt up onto the bench beside them, as if it were waiting to be introduced to the writer. 

“And this is Missy!” Carlos shared, petting down between his dog’s ears. Lazily, Missy’s tongue rolled out of her mouth, as though she were smiling, like she understood she was the center of the conversation. “She’s our little ball of energy - She knows this place like the back of her paw!”

Just as Roxy had geeked over Logan’s cat, her smile grew about a million times wider as her hands flew to scratch behind Missy’s velvety ears. “Hi, Missy! Are you coming for a little run with us today?” 

The dog practically melted into her touch, turning her head from side to side like she was trying to decide where the best scratches were coming from. 

“Oh, no,” Her friend informed her, tugging once on the leash to coax Missy down off the bench. “We’re going for a run with her.” 

Roxy swore the dog must’ve been fluent in English, because as soon as her owner finished his sentence, she took off toward the path, tugging him along with her.

“Alright then… Here we go!” The writer laughed, breaking out in a run to catch up to her friend. “Show us all the good spots then, Missy!”

And show them the good spots she did, after one continuous lap around the large lake. That dog sure knew she was in charge, leading them down a marked trail through the woods for a bit of off-road action, before pulling them back toward the playground and gazebo again. 

Since she and the boys rarely worked out together - the schedule Gustavo and Mr. X had them stick to was a bit too strict for her liking - she had forgotten just how fast Carlos was. On top of his insane hockey player stamina, he was also the fastest of their four friends, as evidenced by the Palm Woods Invitational All-Terrain Disc-Cathlon Classic he had won earlier in the year, all while carrying his assistant on his back. It was a struggle to keep up sometimes, but Roxy held her own and imagined Missy slowed the pace down just for her.

Lungs burning, eyes watering, hands freezing, they finally came to a stop right back at where they’d started about twenty minutes later - Missy hopping back up onto the bench for pets as she panted away, while Carlos and Roxy obliged her wishes and took a breather, trying to come down from their runner’s high. 

“This is her favorite place, I swear!” The boy said through labored breaths. “And she hasn’t run like that in a while! She must really like you.”

The assistant weighed the pros and cons of laying on the paved concrete floor below them, wondering if it would ease the growing ache in her legs. “Well, I like her too… But I also really hate her for working us so hard!” Missy barked, as though she resented the statement. “She’d get along great with Lighting, you know.” 

Scoffing, Carlos checked his watch, before clicking his tongue a few times to get the Dalmatian back off the bench. “I’m not letting my precious baby girl anywhere near that womanizer!”

A growl rolled out of Missy’s throat, suggesting she also hated the idea as well, before she began to tug on the leash again, wanting to check out one of the snowbanks beside the gazebo. 

“I certainly don’t need the two of you ganging up on me…” Huffed Roxy, slowly trailing along after the two as the dog sniffed around, lazily meandering down the path.

Though it was still quite early, more and more people were starting to head onto the park grounds to enjoy the nice weather - nice weather for Minnesota at least. A few more dogs as well, who Missy nearly bounded over to in order to play, while Carlos and Roxy made polite small talk with their owners. On top of the views, that was something else Minnesota had Los Angeles beat on: Everyone was always so friendly. 

Maybe I just needed to get out of here for a while to appreciate just how nice Duluth is.

When Missy decided she was done playing, she trotted back over to Roxy and Carlos, tongue lolling and tail wagging back and forth a mile a minute while she patiently waited to be clipped back onto her leash. 

“Did you have a good time, Missy?” Roxy asked, baby voice and all as she ran her hand down the Dalmatian’s smooth coat. “It looks like you’re getting tired!” Again, the dog must have understood exactly what Roxy was saying, because in response, she tugged on the leash and led the two back onto the path they’d just run, sniffing down the path while she dragged them around. 

Carlos reached out and swatted her ponytail, “You can’t say the t-word around her! If she thinks we’re going home, she always tries to extend her walk.”

“I thought the t-word was ’treat’?”

Missy stopped her sniffing and looked back over her shoulder. 

“That’s one of them!” The boy sighed, and reached into his pocket for a small baggie of round dog treats, extending one out to his assistant. 

She scrunched her nose up, “No, thanks. Not a fan of that flavor.”

“You said it, you give it to her,” Carlos informed her, whistling Missy back toward them. “And, they don't actually taste that bad if you want one.”

An unpleasant image of Carlos guzzling dog treats filled her mind. Yuck.

The feeling of Missy’s tongue licking around her fingers to capture the treat shocked her against the cold feeling her fingers had gotten used to. 

“Aw, ew! She’s all slobbery,” The girl cried, shaking her hand around in the air to try and relieve the unpleasant sensation before her eyes landed on her laughing friend. “What do you think you’re laughing at?” 

Carlos just kept wheezing, and it was riling Missy up when he bent over to hug his sides. However, he didn’t find it as funny when Roxy held out her palm, wiggling her fingers, and attempted to wipe it off on the sleeve of his shirt. In fact, he quickly realized he’d need to run away from her, taking Missy with him, as she chased after him with her slobber-covered hand. 

Neither of them had noticed just how far they’d gotten on the park trail until they reached the edge of the paved area, running along the smooth stoned sides of the melting creek. At one point, they’d even hopped over one of the narrow parts, despite the desperate plea of her heart to slow down, for a while before eventually getting back on the correct trail.

“Just… Use the water!” Carlos eventually called over his shoulder, motioning to his left at the small amount of runoff coming from the melting snow, and his assistant had no choice but to take his suggestion even if the slobber was frozen to her fingers at this point. 

Her footsteps slowed, until she was eventually able to ease herself into a stop, and she squatted down to let the water run over her hand. Of course, it had been as cold as she had been expecting, but it didn’t stop her from flinching the moment the sensation hit her fingertips. “Dude, I think there’s something swimming around in here!”

From a few feet away, the boy turned his head to the side, “Really?” and took a few steps closer before bending down to see what his assistant was talking about. 

With a snicker, Roxy raised her hand from the water and flicked her fingers toward him, covering his face in the snowy runoff. “Ha! Gotcha!”

A small gasp of surprise left his lips, but it didn’t take him any more than a second to dip his hand into the stream and splash Roxy as well, giggling just as loud as she was. 

Even Missy wanted to get in on the fun, splashing into the river with her hot pink booties and causing the other two to scramble away from her as she jumped around. A few more rounds back and forth, both of them too focused on the task at hand while they tormented each other, neither of them noticed the tags on her collar jingle back and forth as she began to shake off the water on her coat. 

When she had gotten so wet, Roxy and Carlos didn’t know, but soon they were pelted as the water jetted off her fur, cold little bombs erupted on their clothing and skin when each drop hit. Soon enough, they’d forgotten they were even messing with each other; Instead, they clutched onto each other as they ran to the closest path of wood they could find that wasn’t covered in snow, and collapsed together into a dripping, giggling mess. 

Of course, Missy wasn’t far behind, and she practically launched herself into their laps, willfully begging for pets as the two finally allowed themselves a moment of rest together. 

“Oh, God, I’m exhausted,” The writer announced, running one more hand down Missy’s back before collapsing back onto the forest floor behind her. Pine trees surrounded them, blocking out most of her view of the sky, but a few white patches poked through, likely promising another snowfall later in the day. “We’re not allowed to run together anymore…”

“Aw!” Carlos whined, plopping down beside her and poking her cheek. “I’ve got memories with all my favorite people at this park. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one with you too… But if it was that bad-”

She cut him off by driving a hand into his side, “I didn’t know that! I take it back, I swear!”

“Nope… It’s too late,” He pretended to sniffle, bringing a hand under his eyes as he wiped away his crocodile tears. “The damage has been done.”

“No! Now you need to tell me!” She fought back, coaxing Missy over to cuddle with her. “List. Now. Starting with ‘Fight with Roxy’ at the top, then…”

“Then, coming here almost every day after elementary school with my sisters. We’d wait here after school for mom to come pick us up, and sometimes the ice cream man would come by and they’d get me one of those messed up-looking popsicles with the gumball eyes.”

Roxy had only come into contact with Carlos’ three older sisters, Maria, Lupe, and Alena, but from what she knew about them, that tracked. They’d gushed over him backstage at their Duluth concert, so she imagined he’d been getting similar treatment now that he was back home. 

“And next… Probably playing flag football over the summers with James! Those big fields are perfect for sports when they’re not covered with snow,” He grinned, “Ah, so you’re not just hockey heads, you’re ballers too?”

“Just the two of us… Logan didn’t like the rules and Kendall is hockey loyal. But! Logan and I used to run up and down the river here and catch little crayfish critters sometimes. And Kendall was here when I ran into a tree with my bike and gave myself this super nasty concussion!”

Shifting up onto one arm, still petting Missy with the other, Roxy rolled over to look at him, “These are supposed to be good memories.”

Carlos blinked his big brown eyes, “But it is! Because for my next birthday, you’ll never believe what he got me.”

“Better breaks?” 

“A helmet! All nice and shiny brand new… It was glorious!” He continued to gush, smiling up at the clouds. “I’d just turned ten and I promised him I’d wear it for the rest of my life.”

His friend cocked a brow, “So you lied to him?” 

Still staring upward as he lay on his back, Carlos reached out and captured her face in his palm, gently pushing her back down to the forest floor. “No. I grew out of it and got another one, then another one, then another one…”

As Carlos rattled on, Roxy half-tuned in as she tracked the movements of a crow hopping from branch to branch above them. She was almost jealous of him, getting to make so many good memories he was able to look back on fondly with his best friends about their hometown. Most of her favorite places here were stained with the memory of Mag and Dani, though she supposed it wasn’t all that bad. 

Now I’ve got new memories of Cait’s basement, Kendall’s lake, Logan’s house, and Carlos’ park… 

“And now I’ve got this one!” Carlos finished, reaching up to slap his head, only to wince when he realized he wasn’t wearing his normal protective gear, “...Back at home.”

At his pained words, Missy growled a bit, shaking herself from Roxy’s grip and walking over to her owner to lick at his face. 

Incredible instinct on that one.

“Aw, baby,” The boy cooed, taking Missy’s face in his hands and giving her a boatload of scratches. “Is it time to go?” 

The dog barked her confirmation, and when Carlos moved to stand, Roxy held out her hand. “Can we wait just a few more minutes? I’m still making my memory.”

***

When Roxy drove to James’ house to grab him that evening, she took a deep breath as she pulled up in front of his house and turned Dynamo’s rattling engine off. 

Carefully, she flipped down the sun visor, checking her make-up meticulously in the mirror. If she was planning on meeting the Este Lauder of the Midwest tonight, nothing could be out of place. Even as she hopped out of the cab, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress despite her shaking hands. 

James had it easy, she decided, getting to meet my dad before we were even together.

With a deep breath, she walked up the path leading through the meticulously manicured lawn on her way to the front door, only to be met with her boyfriend pulling open the door and slipping out to meet her before she was even halfway to the porch. 

“Hey, babe!” He kissed her cheek, running a hand down her arm and lacing his fingers with hers as he pulled her back toward her tuck. “Love the dress… Do a little spin for me?” 

“Uh,” The writer faltered, blinking up at James before doing as he asked. With each pound of her heel on the pavement as she turned, her pulse grew faster. “Don’t you think I should meet your mom before we head out?” 

Again, James was pulling her back toward Dynamo. “Yeah, that’d be super, but she’s not home right now.”

Though she loved the wonderful view of his backside in his slacks and dress shirt as he trailed ahead of her, her eyes flickered to the right. A white Jeep Wrangler sat in the driveway. 

“Did I tell you where we’re going tonight?” James asked her, interrupting her train of thought. “It’s this cool little hole-in-the-wall Italian place downtown. Owned by one of the guys on the MAHS team's family too. They’ll treat us like VIPs! Speaking of, Kendall said you’re coming to the party tomorrow, right?” 

Roxy loved listening to him talk, no matter the circumstance, but right now, it felt like he was trying to bounce from subject to subject; She was having trouble following everything he’d asked her.

Smiling, the writer squeezed his hand as he opened the car door for her and waited for her to climb in before shutting it. 

“Thanks, James,” She’d muttered when he finally took his place on the passenger’s side. “No, you didn’t say, but it sounds lovely! And yes, I’ll go if you’re going.”

There was an awkward pause, something quite new for the couple. 

“Think she’ll be here when we get back? I’d like to meet her.” 

That was a half-life, Roxy was terrified, especially considering all she knew of Brooke Diamond was her tragic, messy, public divorce, how protective she was of her son, and how little James talked about her. 

“Probably, but she’s got a strict bedtime - 9 p.m. or she complains about puffy eyes the next day. It’s such a pain.” Her boyfriend reached for the stereo - she thought about slapping his hand away - turning up the volume on the tape Roxy’d popped in as she was driving over. “Who’s this? Sounds like something you’d be really good at playing on the guitar.”

James was trying to distract her.  

“Fall Out Boy.” She took his bait, pulling away from the sidewalk with a knot in her stomach. “Dad and I saw them a couple of years ago. Tickets were almost impossible to get, but one of his friends from work knew someone who ran at the venue.”

Reaching out to turn it up again, Roxy gripped the wheel tighter at his next words. “You’re kidding! How sick… Did you two go to a lot of shows together?” 

“How about we save the small talk for our date?” She said, putting on her best cheery voice despite how quickly she felt like spiraling. “Which road do I turn down once we’re in town?” 

As James pulled out the printed directions from his front pocket, he scanned the page for the answer to her girlfriend’s question. 

Meanwhile, she was attempting to get rid of the dull ache blooming in her chest, thinking she had been justified in her worry all those weeks ago. 

Am I not the kind of girl you take home to your parents?

***

Jo and Camille had assured Roxy she was being ridiculous on their emergency-slash-Happy Birthday, Camille phone call last night. So, when she’d finally picked all her friends up, managed to make it to “Hawkins’ Haus,” and passed her keyes off to their designated driver, Kendall, Roxy was ready to forget all about the dark worry itching at the back of her mind. 

Drink, dance, have a good time… Simple, she planned out in her head, clutching at her boyfriend’s arm as the five of them entered the large modern-style house to the sound of loud party chatter over whatever unseen speakers were blasting the top hits of the last year. Plenty of teenagers filled the space ready to celebrate the New Year together, making it tough for the five to all move together through the entrance and into the living room, where a group of boys were all lounging on whatever furniture or floor space was available. 

From her conversation with Kendall, Roxy had assumed it was just a party with the team and a few of their friends, but as she glanced around the space it was packed with people as far as she could see. Mountain Aire was one of the largest high schools in the area; She wouldn’t be surprised if most of the student population was in attendance tonight. From the entrance to the fenced-in backyard, even to the second floor it was wall-to-wall people. 

“Hawkinsssss!” She heard Carlos boom behind her, and one of the boys turned his head, eyes lighting up as he practically jumped out of his armchair to greet the newcomers. 

“Garcia?!” Hawkins called back, arms wide. “Get your ass over here!”

Happy to oblige, Carlos tackled the boy into a bear hug, “Dude, it’s been too long!” 

A few of the other guys were standing now, slowly heading over to greet Kendall, Carlos, James, and Logan as well. 

“Team captain,” James murmured in Roxy’s ear, before flashing his award-winning smile and reaching out from behind her to shake his hand. “Good to see you, man.”

“And you, Diamond! God, look at you!” The captain beamed, and now that they were closer Roxy could get a better look at him in the dim light. Like her friends, he was infuriatingly handsome, which she was beginning to think was a requirement if someone wanted to join the MAHS hockey team just from an inventory of the room. Waved brown hair fell over his just-as-brown eyes as he looked down at the girl in front of him, flashing a wry smile. “And you brought a real Los Angeles model with you? Damn, dude!”

Feeling her cheeks heat, Roxy leaned back into her boyfriend as he introduced her. “Kit Hawkins, Roxanne Somerset. And she’s not a model - though she could be if she wanted, for sure.”

Roxy held her hand out, “I’m a songwriter, actually. And house band member. And assistant… I wear many, many hats. Nice to meet you!”

Kit’s calloused hands rose to meet her own, shaking it up and down before bringing her knuckles to his lips.

“Girlfriend!” James blurted out, pulling Roxy’s hand into his the moment Hawkins let it go. “Did I mention she’s my girlfriend?” 

Raising both his palms in defense, Kit’s eyes widened, “My bad, my bad! Sorry, Roxanne. Either of you want something to drink?”

The assistant shook her head, not for now at least, but James took him up on the offer, snagging one of the cold cans from one of many coolers she could spot around the room. 

Gradually, more and more greetings were exchanged, James letting Roxy know who everyone was around the room as they piled onto the couch together. As he pulled her into his lap to create some room for Logan to sit beside them, his thumb rubbed a soothing circular pattern into her hip as she did her best to remember everyone’s names. 

All of the players referred to each other by last name, which was easy enough with her own friends, but James using first and last names in his introductions was throwing her off a bit as she tuned into their conversations. In one part of the room, Kendall was detailing some of the crazy aspects of Hollywood, in another, an MAHS player, Callaghan, was talking to Logan about the team’s stats for the year. 

“They’re totally gonna make the playoffs,” He spoke aloud, presumably only to Roxy once Callaghan started to rattle off some sort of statistics. “Seems like Hawkins is doing a good job…”

Across the way, it sounded like Carlos was telling the story of their audition to players Streicher and Logan - not to be confused with her own Logan - who were almost rolled over in laughter when he mentioned farting into the microphone in front of one of L.A.’s biggest music producers. 

Draping an arm over James’ shoulder, Roxy leaned into his chest a bit more as she brought her lips down to his ear, “I didn’t expect there to be so many players! Isn’t there… like competition to get onto the team or something?” 

“Most pro teams only have about 20 players; MAHS has room for 16 on their varsity team and you’re looking at every single one of them.”

Roxy felt her eyes widen, “For the entire student population?”

After a slow sip of his vodka soda, James nodded, “Best of the best, baby.”

For a moment, as she turned back to the story Kendall was telling, she thought about what it would be like if they went to a normal high school. Flashes of partnering with Logan at the chem lab, holding her boyfriend’s hand as they walked down the locker-lined hallways, passing notes with Carlos in history… Sitting surrounded by other “normal” teenagers almost had her longing for a life back in Minnesota. 

Without thinking, she lifted the can from James’ hand and took a few small sips. “I can’t believe I’m dating a jock. Doesn’t that throw off the high school ecosystem balance or something?” “Nah,” He assured her, pointing over to another player, Graham. “He’s dating one of the best artists ever and…” It took him a second, but his finger landed on another boy, Miller. “His girlfriend really loves Bauhaus and…” Roxy took another sip of his drink as he pointed someone else out, King. “His partner’s a pothead. All things considered, it’s a good mix.”

“Sounds like you needed a musician,” She mused, planting a kiss on his cheek before resting her forehead on his. “You’d let me wear your varsity jacket, right?” 

“Rox, are you kidding me?” The hand on her hip flexed. “I’ll seriously run home and get it right now if you promise you’ll wear it the rest of the night-”

Bang!

The sound of aluminum crunching against a plastic surface made the both of them jump and turn toward the source of the sound, Carlos. “Whoo!” 

“Shit,” Roxy giggled, watching as he threw the can across the room and into one of the many waste bins scattered about. “He’s one down; We need to catch up.” 

“Say less, babe. Let’s go see what else they’ve got.”

~

Two seltzers later, James and Roxy were tearing up the dancefloor. 

Well, more like James was thanks to his professional coaching over the last year, and his attempts to guide his girlfriend into some smoother moves went unheard as she rocked from side to side. At the end of each song, she’d find her way back into his arms, complaining that it was over, before getting excited on the first note of whatever came next, telling him how that was her favorite song ever.

Eventually, he was able to keep her close by hooking his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans, as her moves slowly began to synchronize with his thanks to their proximity. Despite music flowing through her veins and a presence at every single Big Time Rush dance practice and live performance, she still lacked good rhythm to move her own body to but figured practice makes perfect. 

Hands trailing up the sides of her boyfriend’s chest and eventually winding around his neck, she pulled herself even closer, belting out the words to whatever song was the background track for their moves. Even with her heart beating out of her chest from all the activity, each time James brushed up against her or tightened his hold on her hips, it increased to what Roxy feared may be near fatal levels. 

Though the house was dim, she caught glimpses of his face now and then as he bobbed his head to the beat. Be it their alcohol intake or the loosening she felt overtake her brain, but she noticed a splash of red on his cheeks, causing her own to heat in return.

~

Water. James finally made her drink not one, but two bottles of water after their stint on the dance floor and a small make-out session in the second-floor hallway, before they found themselves back on the couch and caught up in a party game with the hockey team. 

Normally, Roxy was not one to partake in Truth or Dare with strangers, but her inhibitions were lowered just enough and she wanted to see her other friends so badly, that she and James allowed themselves to be roped into the shenanigans happening in the living room. 

Logan - her Logan - was already stripped down to his boxers after a series of unfortunate dares, Callaghan was forced to recount his most embarrassing memory, and Kendall was currently wearing his shoes on his hands. 

“Oh, James!” Hawkins called, slightly swaying in his seat as he singled out his victim for the next round. “Truth or dare?” 

Roxy felt James hum under her while he chose, and she secretly hoped he might have to take off some clothing too. 

“Dare.” 

He almost didn’t catch the beer can the team captain hurtled his way, but managed to use his free hand - the one not circling Roxy’s waist - to catch it. 

Immediately, despite various levels of intoxication, the whole room caught on to Hawkins’ scheme and began chanting, “Chug, chug, chug, chug!”

And chug James did, like a champion, while Roxy watched in awe. And a little bit to see his Adam’s Apple bob up and down and think about all the kisses she could plant on his neck later, but that wasn’t as important. 

It took him about 25 seconds, and when he finished, the room broke into a wild ovation, as though he’d just scored the winning goal at a hockey game. Careful not to disturb the girl in his lap, he chucked the can right back at Hawkins before adding his other arm around her waist and tugging Roxy even closer into him. 

She didn’t even think before she grabbed his face and kissed him in front of God and everybody, licking up whatever remained of the bitter-tasting drink. They ignored the cheers that erupted after that, simply indulging in each other for a few more seconds, until someone cleared their throat to remind James it was his turn to pick a new victim. 

Sometime later, King had begrudgingly told the story of his first kiss, Carlos did an entire piece of Big Time Rush choreography without the music, and Graham had to hold hands with Miller until one of them passed out for the night. 

Roxy thought she had done a pretty good job at hiding under the radar for most of the game, not being too loud or encouraging any of the more embarrassing asks, so when Miller slurred her name, it almost shocked her. “Roxanne? Truth or dare?” 

As much as she suspected James would also like it if she removed a few articles of clothing, she didn’t want to take her chances in a room full of other guys. “Truth. Definitely truth.”

“Alright then,” Miller grinned, though one of his eyes blinked before the other as he thought up his question. “What’s your biggest fantasy?”

Idiot… Roxy smiled, hands playing with the plastic water bottle she had just finished. He didn’t specify what kind…

“I want a big house!” She blurted, “Like so big you want to ride a bike from one end to the other, and your legs hurt from walking up so many stairs. And a huge yard, huge… With a big lake that freezes over in the winter so we can skate on it and trails leading into the forest. Oh! And a music studio inside too, so I can make whatever I want and Gustavo can’t tell me no.”

At some point, James’ grip on her tightened, and she could feel his eyes on her as she continued to babble off whatever came to mind. 

“And pets!” She yelled, so loud it almost frightened her, and she dropped the bottle to talk with her hands as she listed them all off. “Dogs… Cats… Turtles… Hamsters… We are going to have so many pets! And a place to show off all my instruments and all your platinum records, which are actually all my platinum records, but they’ll say your name on them because you’re in the band and I’m not, okay?” 

 By now, it was no secret she was speaking directly to James, considering they were basically staring at each other, as if there were nobody else in the room when she finally finished her thought. He was lapping up every single word his girlfriend was saying with eager nods, offering up no argument or additions to her fantasy.

“House, lake, trail, studio, pets, and… museum? I think I can manage all that for you,” James said, and she felt the circles from his thumbs begin again. “Anything else you’d like to add?”

Immediately, her face caught fire. It was one thing for her to rattle off all the silly things she’d thought of to avoid answering the real question Miller had been getting at, but the more she thought about it, the more truth her statement held than she’d originally intended.

She leaned into him giggling, “Yeah, actually-”

“Fifteen seconds to midnight!”

Everybody began to scramble, grabbing drinks, grabbing partners, grabbing 12 of the fresh green grapes from the kitchen counter. Everybody, except for James and Roxy, who were still locked in their loving gaze as their friends all contributed to the chaos around them. 

“Ten-”

“Roxanne?” 

“Nine, eight-”

“Hm?”

“Seven, six-”

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Five, four-” 

“You think you need to ask?”

“Three, two, one… Happy New Year!”

[softsky-daily]

11/7/2024

My phone always makes these nighttime photos look so haunted.

Positive thing: I had a nice therapy session.

Talking with him about election woes helped, and it was also while I was talking I realized there's plenty of good things happening in my life too. I have many wonderful friends, I'm moving to a new place soon, my mom is confirmed to be coming home in December, and I'm getting back into stuff I enjoyed like nigehaji. I reflected on how much more I've been feeling like drawing and writing again which I thought might never happen.

There were some funny/interesting things from today. My coworker friend and I have been slowly watching through nigehaji together after we finish work on Thursdays, and she gets supremely frustrated while watching the main leads. It's a playful kind of frustration, and I totally feel her because I'm pretty sure I reacted similarly when I was first watching. There's this weird quality to nigehaji where the exact same details and scenes that make me insane make every other person go "...ok?" or even "god what is wrong with them". Which is absolutely their perogative and I don't feel offended if they don't like it. It just makes it hard to explain why I do like it. I don't know how to put into words that the fact that the two main leads don't communicate on the same wavelength and the main guy is always running away is frustrating but also a key part of the message of the whole show. And if it was any other romance with a different setup I would condemn it to hell for being a dumb miscommunication arc but in nigehaji it's actually just cinema to me. I don't know how to explain!! I just don't know. But maybe I'll write another essay about why I like it and maybe it'll finally turn out coherent one of these days.

Another interesting thing that completely distracted me from my nigehajiposting was someone in one of the Japanese Discord servers I'm in apparently got coaxed into some maid cafe bar, and spent ¥100,000 on a drink. ¥100,000!!! For context, that's roughly $650. I know he got pressured into a tourist trap basically, but I was so shocked at how he basically reacted like it was a small mistake and not something that ruined his wallet. Like, that's almost my rent for the month basically. On one drink?? Oh my god. I would fall to my knees. What cracked me up was how he followed up saying he was done with maid cafes because of this but not 30 minutes later he announced he was in another one. Godspeed, dude. I guess this is how Japan's tourism industry stays alive.

This one's less interesting but I had to do a reading for class, and the book we have to read is written in a very annoying way. Basically it's a self-help kind of book about how to organize your life, applied to building your career or whatever. I do think there's some good points in there, but because the author is a Los Angeles white woman hustler type lady it has this grating edge to it. "You just have to get up early and do things!" rings hollow from anybody but especially from someone like that. There's a short excerpt where she describes how one of her lowest points in her life was lying on the floor for 30 minutes feeling stuck. And like, lady, I feel that way every day, and I'm lucky if it's for 30 minutes. Also her anecdotes tend to include other brands and social media and it just feels like I'm being advertised to every other minute. She shows an example of what she thinks a cordial email is and it's the most passive-aggressive thing I've ever read and she finishes by saying something like "And I'm really proud of how I handled this email, I'm so professional!" and it's like, okay...

Long story short, I don't trust people whose lives are extremely niche in the grand scheme of things giving advice as if it's universal. Maybe if you're white and neurotypical and abled you'd resonate more with this lady and her "I try to get up at 6:15am and be in my car by 8:23am" type nonsense.

But anyway. Tomorrow I'm looking at another place with my friends to potentially move into, and this one looks real promising. It's got wood floors instead of carpet like the last one, and it's located in a nice neighborhood close to my university. The rent isn't bad either. I'm hoping it looks as nice in real life as it does in the online pictures.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary295

7/10/24

wednesday

did a bit of writing today.

and the j-card is done. metadata undone, that changes 2morrow for sure...

all it takes to write is heat exhaustion and slightly fried nerves and dysphoria. so i guess mega fried nerves. and matcha.

here is da j-card:

i like how unreadable it is to beeeeeeeeeeeeeee honest. it's like it just makes you stare at the thing and the text just kind of melts into a mess. especially the big chunk there which is just every song title listed unspaced.

there's some stupid discourse out on the internet today, obviously i shouldn't look but there's some insanity about all the stuff going on re: sexual politics atm. the way people are throwing around 'sex positivity' which can really mean 30 different things, some of which were pretty minimal and like, don't judge people who have lots of sex because sex can be a thing that happens for all kinds of reasons, we ought to have conversations about sex outside of the regular assumptions re: desire and what it leads to, an aversion to moralism, or rather directionless 'having sex is liberating*' (* meaning: if you want to have sex), there is more here too.

really the baffling part for me, outside of the moralism, or i guess i should not say baffling, but it's generally how each generation seems to have bought more and more into the distinct generational character thing, creating insane stereotypes as if they're super real and just proceeding with a huge chunk of earth being those things and never really thinking about or interacting with, those people, or when they do, what they see are the assumptions/signs that they are what they imagine, and nothing else. and as this goes on, it strengthens each prior generation's notion that it is a thing unto itself, it solidifies against the stereotype as if that defends itself, or taking these features as points of pride rather than spectacular invention. this results in the kinds of millennial you see getting mad about eminem getting cancelled or this discourse about how millennials didn't know what boundaries were.

one thing lost in all this is the fact that the mid 00s were a horrific time to be feminine, thinking abt a lot of the ed stuff, the american apparel ads and so on (i recognize the irony in me saying this after posting that image i made where i am wearing american apparel thigh highs + the general uhm sexual nature of the cover and stuff but i'm messed up okay i don't want to get into it but i guess i have and i am crazy and whatever and i at least want to use that in a way that isn't me doing things that hurt myself okayyyyyyyyyyy), this wasn't liberating but it's also not because of 'sex positive feminism' that these images came to be, it's because of patriarchal exploitation and the pornographic gaze which is deeply bound to advertising already, a lot of these things remain the same, we have our current day forms of this. it's an issue that does not need to be so complicated and obfuscated by generational fingerpointing, but i think it feels good to do this, and this is the essential drive mobilized by posting inside the computer, the feeling good and right, and the invention of things to be right about, creation of logics which enable the rightness, and the ability to litigate truth with these methods, at their root they are not very complex usually, it's just about being able to 'see' a demographic and point at it. it goes beyond strawmanning to the point of really seeing people in a distorted way, not inventing them, but seeing them speaking, and not being able to understand because you know what they are already. it's wholly spectacular and strange.

anyhow, this is a pointless thing to look at. interesting to note i guess though. or useful for me. it does wig me out though, everytime you see surges of radical leaning or, idk, i don't think this is radical at all really, but this "radical" appearing way of thinking, you see terfs pop up, young ones too, that always wigs me out, they're funny though, not like in a good way, they're just, funny, as a notion i suppose.

anyway i need to sleep, i hope nobody finds my blog somehow over this and hits me with a t.i.m. moment, they love 2 hit that shit like the griddy.

oh one other thing, there was this british kid in the store today, he put a box of triscuits in his shopping cart, his mom asked what they were for as her and her friends were looking around for crisps, and he said "smores", and i felt so bad and i wanted to say something, as i stood there waiting for my girlfriend, like how he needs graham crackers for his smores and not triscuits but i didn't say anything but he put them away anyways. i am glad there was no tragedy but i feel bad that i might have enabled a minor tragedy in some way, that's kind of a stupid way to think but it's true . as in true that i felt that. or even feel it.

anyway

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[manhattanspeaks]

[ AUTHOR COMMENTARY ]

Times Sq is the first "building" character I went with for Manhattan Speaks simply because there's so much you could do with the place and I feel like it has characterized itself well enough. Like most people probably know vaguely what it is and might have some impression of it even if they've never been. I dislike it fundementally (especially after Disneyfication in the 90s) but man I can't not admit that from a historical lense it really has grown on me as a place of interest.

I just think there's something so devastatingly visceral about it. It's changed hands several times, has been repainted over and over and over with the NYC land development equivalent of landlord white paint to hide all the flaws. It's a capitalism cash cow and a total waste of energy but no matter what they do it's so flawed... and everyone in the city knows it's flawed.

I think being a major place of interest for tourists and shopping and commute while being hated by the people who should care about you so much while having a notable (but controversial) past and only being cared about because of your worth in the advertising world would make anyone neurotic. You don't get to be flawed because its bad publicity but its still So incredibly obvious that the facade isn't as strong as its made out to be.

Like the prime example of how well this place lends itself to characterization imo is looking at One Times Sq (pictured below) through the years. Gorgeous intricate flagship building that was put in a cage and then increasingly hidden from the world through bright flashing screens.

The times I have been in the area and walked by this building Ive always had to take a moment to look through the cracks, anything to get a glimpse of what once was. It's insane to me on a narrative/symbolic level that you can still see what's underneath and compared to the flashing ads it looks bleak!

It literally took them decades to care about the inside of the building again, only very very recently have they decided to renovate it. AND EVEN THEN ITS BEING USED FOR MORE ADS.

Here's a pic I took a couple years ago of the One TSQ facade. I think one of the screens shut off really adds to my point but anyway you can see the rounded windows from the 70s peeking through!!

There's so much more I could say on this but all in all it just circles back to me going insane about the city's architectural history and how interesting I find it.

I highly recommend looking at stuff from TSQ in the seventies or looking into the project "Messages to the Public" by the Public Art Fund. It's fantastic and the gallery Im gonna link here has some great examples, many of which are still relevant to this day.

[shewholovestoread]

My Journey To You - Thoughts and Impressions Part 1 of 2

I realise that I've been missing these past few months, i've been on a consumption binge but with little to no bandwidth to write about any show/film irrespective of how much I may have loved them. (depression is an ass) But I can, once again, feel thoughts tingling in my brain and I've decided to get back to writing, something that I deeply enjoy. Anyway, enough about me, let's get started.

To keep the post from getting obscenely long, I'm going to split it into two. This post will be about the technical aspects of the show. Part 2 will focus on the characters.

My Journey To You is a 2023 fantasy, Wuxia show (shows/films that are based in ancient China with martial arts warriors being capable of superhuman feats, like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). It was highly anticipated owing to the amazing trailer (one of the best I've seen)

Plot: The series tells the story of Yun Wei Shan, a spy longing for freedom, who infiltrates the Gong residence to complete a mission. In the eerie and treacherous Gong residence, she encounters love and friendship, embarks on a journey of self-discovery, and finds the determination to move forward. Together with the rebellious nobleman Gong Zi Yu, they grow and mature through their shared experiences. (via mydramalist)

It stars: Yu Shu Xin (Yun Wei Shan), Zhang Ling He(Gong Zi Yu), Ryan Cheng (Gong Shang Jue) and Lu Yu Xiao (Shangguan Qian), Tian Jia Rui (Gong Yuan Zhi), Jolin Jin (Gong Zi Shang) and Sun Chen Jun (Jin Fan)

Written by: Edward Guo.

Series directed by: Edward Guo & Luo Luo

I'll talk about everything I liked before I get into the stuff that I didn't.

Right off the bat, this show has some of the most gorgeous characters you'll come across and this applies to both the men and the women. The costume and make-up departments do an amazing job making already attractive people look ridiculously attractive. They also help the actors really inhabit the world seamlessly. The costumes are especially incredibly detailed and intricate, you can see the care that went into crafting the look for each of these characters. Shout-out to Huang Wei (costume designer) and Shi Hui (Make-up)

One of the best aspects of the show is the cinematography by Wei Hong. This show is aesthetically beautiful, so many absolutely stunning shots. Chinese shows (and Korean shows) love slow-motion shots, and while at times, it can be a bit much, this show makes great use of them, especially during the fight scenes.

The cinematography is helped to a great extent by the excellent production design, courtesy Jiyao Zhang. Like the costumes, the production design too is detailed and intricate. The world feels fully realised and yet also lived in. Each of the different clan mansions, the Front Hill and Back Hill are so incredibly different and distinct that you can immediately tell where you are. An insane amount of hard work went into the show and it shows in every frame.

You can tell that they had a good budget to work with and every bit of it was spent on making the show look as stylized as possible, there is not an ounce of realism to be found here, cue slow-motion beautiful hair flying shots. (Every day I bemoan my inability to make gifs) But the screencaps below illustrate the beauty of the show, it's so gorgeous that you could literally use screencaps as wallpapers.

The fight scenes in the show are some of the best I've seen. They are intense and thrilling and always coherent, you can always tell who's fighting who. The fight scenes are also so aesthetically pleasing, like an exceptionally deadly dance.

Now, we come to the not-so-great stuff.

First off, the marketing. The show was marketed and advertised as an action fantasy show and while there is action and it is excellent, it's not an "action" show. The main focus of the show is on the characters and the internal power struggle of the Gong family. There are also whole scenes, sometimes making up the bulk of an entire episode which are just conversations. I've seen a lot of viewers disappointed and it makes sense. they thought they were coming for action and instead they got verbose conversations.

The pacing also comes to a near-halt in some of these scenes and instead we're treated to lengthy expositions which isn't necessarily a bad thing but it becomes tedious when it happens repetitively.

Now, let's come to the worst thing about the show, it's ending, specifically the last 5 minutes. This end is ridiculously mindbogglingly bad when you consider that there is almost no confirmation on a 2nd season. It's just such a bad idea to end on a cliffhanger like this. If they wanted to leave things open for a potential 2nd season, they could have ended with the Wufeng elders coming together at that character's home, possibly to hold them ransom or something, like literally anything else.

if you're planning on watching this show and I do recommend it, keep in mind that it does get slow and don't watch the last 5 mins of the show. Trust me, you'll like the show a whole lot more if you follow that approach.

Part 2 HERE

[sophsun1]

Hey Soph! I had a very intriguing thought today while doing my Showtime marathon of qaf. Side note: i hate the soundtrack with a burning passion and it makes me want to fight people at showtime. Anyway, I was thinking while watching, what if the show was done in today’s time or better yet what if social media was a thing back then the way it is now. I mean Brian Kinney walked so Grindr could run. Imagine his power with apps. And then it made me think what Brian’s, Justin’s and the rest of the guys instagram accounts would look like. Justin would for sure have some art and maybe some Brian on it. Michael would be a mix of friends, comics, Ben and Hunter. Maybe some hiv awareness posts. With Ted and Emmett, i kind of can’t decide. Em would for sure have some fashion and his friends on it, and obviously every once in a while he would post some gay icons. But Brian? That’s where my mind runs blank, even though in a way i can relate to him the most, I for the life of me can’t come up with anything. I feel like he would post some of Justin’s art. Maybe even Rage. Maybe he’d post Justin on it. I feel like for a really long time his IG would be just whatever and then one day he’d post a picture of Justin and all the guys would lose their minds. Anyway, I just wanted to see what you think they’d be like if they had instagram/other apps. Now I’m gonna go and watch 2x03, have a lovely day!

Hey anon!

*eyes you suspiciously* which soundtrack are you slating? (Are Showtime re-running it with the evil version? I know they show it every Pride month, if so I agree wholeheartedly and how dare they) I only watch with the original soundtrack, otherwise I would die.

Anon! HE WOULD BE A PROFESSIONAL THIRST TRAP OF COURSE!!!

Advertise the fuck out of Kinnetik and Babylon promoting his businesses. Always post Justin's latest art masterpieces and upcoming art shows, not forgetting x-rated pictures of him and Justin obviously get everyone insanely jealous then dirty delete and the odd wholesome pictures of Gus.

He would only follow Justin back, and probably block everyone else because they'd keep tagging him in things 😅

Oooh I love Season 2 and especially 2x03 so much, have fun watching 💛

[holofoiltowercard]

The Journey of The Tarot Haiku

XV: The Devil - Bound, Unbound

It's kind of funny that we have gone from me talking about the practical aspects of the book project in earlier posts, to entering a world of abstracts and states of mind later on, but it honestly reflects super well on how the Major Arcana itself goes from the more tangible to the abstract and beyond. Today's post is also in this more abstract domain, because there are aspects of this process that stuff like Tarot or self-publishing guides won't cover, such as how it feels to genuinely release something into the wild, out of your hands, how hard it can be to grapple for control in an environment that you have little to no control over, and how much effort it takes to let go of the urge or compulsion to do everything by yourself.

First, the release of the finished work. I actually did not have as much trouble with this one as I thought I might, but I'm a perfectionist at heart and I bet there are perfectionists out there who keep holding onto their finished manuscripts, tweaking the smallest things day by day desperate on making it all perfect and in the process only growing more anxious and wanting to hold onto it until it is practically gathering dust because... what if it's not good enough? What if you are not good enough? That is basically what's at the heart of it. We can be too hard on ourselves and nitpick ourselves to pieces where others might simply take a deep breath and let go. So to everyone who is holding onto something they know in their heart is finished and waiting to be shared: go for it. You know you have put enough care and careful consideration into it already. Have faith. Pull a Tarot card if you have to.

Second, the online world is vast and you do not have control over the grander processes and especially other people. Even when you follow the advice of the successful and advertise the "right" way in the "right" places, build up your brand and your presence and sell your soul on social media or whatever else is expected of us, you have no control over whether people will actually give you a chance, let alone give you money. And if you're like me and feel desperate because life has been hard enough, maybe you're sat there anxious and thinking, if I just make one more post, if I edit one more image and do this and that and the other thing minute by minute, maybe something will budge. Not to be cheeky and referential here, but that is literally the Devil talking. You don't have nearly as much control as you think, and trying to micromanage everything when the macro processes are nigh untouchable will drive you insane.

So, you have to let go somehow. And this is where I have been desperate enough once again to just give a listen to anything that could get me there. I found the following things helpful.

1) Joe Dispenza's book and meditation Breaking The Habit Of Being Yourself. I have already read most of the book a while ago, but now I tried the meditation, and it felt really liberating. Basically he talks about really sitting with bad habits like worrying, letting anger or resentment stagnate, identifying what these feel like in your body, and then consciously replacing these habits with a strong feeling or gratitude. It gave me a lot of food for thought and made me conscious of how I can help my body get out of panic mode.

2) The question "What if?" I got this from Sheevaun Moran. As soon as you start worrying about say, worst case scenarios, and I worried about those quite a lot, ask yourself, "But what if..." and put a positive in there - because the thing is, you don't know yet what is coming, nothing has happened yet, so channeling your focus towards a positive outcome not only feels better but lessens the anxiety. Example - "They might hate the book or not care at all..." "But what if they love it so much they want to do an interview about it?"

3) Drawing a daily Tarot card to take action. This one is from Leeza Robertson, she suggested that when you draw a daily Tarot card, you should sit with that card for longer and think of three actions you could do today based on that card's message. I used to do daily draws, but most of the questions suggested for it, such as "What do I need to know about today?" or "What is the energy of today?" simply didn't compute to me, so they weren't helpful to me personally. This one however, gave better direction and I want to keep doing it.

4) Literally just look at new things. Listen to a new video, try something different. You never know where inspiration or useful tips will come from. Not all of it will be useful, don't expect every new thing to bring you tremendous insight and enlightenment, but give different things a chance to see how they resonate. Keep an open mind, because open minds embrace freedom. This way you're also not just sitting there desperately waiting for developments, you are engaging with the world and enriching your soul.

5) Trust the universe. This is part of that meditation I mentioned, too. Remember that you are one person, and you don't have to do everything by yourself. Leave some of that background work to the universe. Do your little steps every day and allow the energy to work for you and move things for you. Trust that there is love in this world and that there is a Source that loves you dearly and wants you to succeed, and keep fostering that feeling of gratitude that also helps you cement the idea that there are good things happening right now, and there will be more. Trust the universe and let it do the things you cannot touch and control by yourself. If you can get to this point, it literally feels like weight coming off your shoulders.

Love you all. Take care. Be free.

Buy the ebook

Buy the paperback

Buy the hardcover

[lee-jinkis-ponytail]

man i need to rant a bit about kpop, tw for body dysmorphia/weight/ED discussions

my body has changed a LOT the last couple years as i deal with severe endometriosis that really limited my ability to exercise regularly. like, literally just carrying a light laundry basket up and down the stairs can sometimes bring me excruciating abdominal pain, even when i'm not on my period. forget working out. i went from doing yoga and zumba 5-6 days/week, to a few days a week, to 1 day a week, until it got so bad that i just gave up exercising entirely because it hurt too much.

i have gained almost 100lbs since my symptoms started worsening in 2021.

now that i've had surgery to remove the endo and treat the pain temporarily (until it grows back), i'm trying very gently to get back into regular 5-day-a-week exercise, which--after so long being sedentary--is so much easier said than done. i often feel discouraged and end my low-impact "beginner" workout sessions in frustrated tears because i cannot do even the most basic exercises anymore.

endo also destroyed my relationship with food. i fell into a bad habit of binge-eating on my "good" days whenever my GI symptoms eased up, which contributed to the weight gain. like, raiding the cabinets and stuffing my face with every food i could get my hands on so i could enjoy it while i was feeling somewhat ok, as opposed to my worse days, where i would barely eat more than, like, some hard boiled eggs and pretzels.

i don't mind looking at myself in a mirror, but seeing photos of myself nowadays or seeing myself in a video is... not good for my mental health.

especially as a kpop fan.

shinee are really the only boy group i listen to, and otherwise i primarily listen to girl groups.

it's gotten to a point where i had to stop watching blackpink videos because it seemed like every comeback they just got skinnier and skinnier and it really put me at risk for hating myself and developing an ED.

i like twice and sunmi because they are--or were, when i first discovered them--average, healthy weights. watching them did not make me feel bad about myself. they had a little more meat in their thighs, and it at least kept my own body dysmorphia at bay.

but idk, the pictures i've seen of them all in their most recent comebacks--between the veneers that have utterly changed the shapes of a lot of their faces (dahyun and mina are almost unrecognizable to me), and just how skeletal a lot of them look... i think i'm gonna have to stop watching them for the sake of my own mental health.

especially twice. idk, the dive photoshoot, they're just all so... bony.

and then to see netizens bodyshaming jeongyeon and even NAYEON??? recently??? during her waterbomb performance?!?! hello??? or everyone saying sunmi was too "fat" during tail era?!?! yeesh.

i'm not by any means knocking these women or body shaming them or whatever, they're all beautiful and i understand they're in an industry where beauty standards are INSANE. i am just commenting on the intensity of fatphobia in the entertainment industry in general and how it is causing issues for me personally, and i'm sure for so many other people.

and i mean i know a lot of these women have discussed how their own company-enforced diets are unhealthy and unsustainable and unrealistic, i just... idk, it's all very new to me, these feelings, and i don't like the way my thoughts are going recently. lots of "i shouldn't eat more than one meal a day," "i'm disgusting," "i need to be shaped like this celebrity woman" "i need to push myself on this exercise machine til i puke" etc etc.

i have never been susceptible to this type of thinking until recently, and it is largely in part because of how badly fatphobia is so so SO rampant throughout these fandoms.

and like, side-note, i think the return of fashion trends of the early 2000s is also making fatphobia so much more rampant. the fat-shaming then was *so* bad. and nowadays i see virtually ZERO body-positive advertisements anymore. it's all ozempic this, diet that, hoop or stepper exercise machines, this is how i lost 60+ pounds, and so on.

[jeff141]

Reading Resolutions

New Years' resolutions never work out for me and usually three days into the new year, I have already dropped all expectations of completing my resolutions. I stopped making resolutions a couple years ago after countless efforts to go to the gym more, eat more healthier, and, especially, reading more books. It's unfortunate since reading used to be a pastime I greatly enjoyed but slowly throughout the years, has been phased out of my daily life either due to school or opting to play video games instead (not necessarily a bad thing however!). This year, having been graduated for a couple months, and now having an inordinate amount of free time, I decided to take a crack at reading once more but using a different approach instead.

My resolution is not to read X books or spend X hours reading, my resolution is to simply spend more time at the library. I found that forcing myself to read a specified amount of books or spend a determined amount of time reading stressed me too much to actually enjoy the act of reading. As such, revising my resolution to just spend time at the library took a significant amount of unnecessary stress off of my chest to meet goals. I'm not chained to meet a quota nor am I actually forced to simply read during my time at the public library. Other activities such as perusing the shelves, doing job searches on my laptop, prepping for my next DND session are some of the things that I have done while at the library. However, simply being in an environment where I am surrounded by books as well as having the free time to be able to enjoy reading without the obligation of meeting a pre-determined goal has naturally increased my enjoyment of reading and read more often. It’s made me a more productive person, especially at a time where I don’t have as much responsibilities as I did compared to when I was in college, with the added benefit of making me enjoy reading once more. Additionally, the services of the public library are amazing and should be taken advantaged by anyone who can get a library card. Tickets to most museums in my area as well as an opera showing at my local opera house that would have been 98 dollars? Sign me up! This is an advertisement to all public libraries in the world. Go get yourself a library card now!

What am I reading right now though? I wanted to read something by Kurt Vonnegut who is probably my favorite author. I would like to go through his entire catalog of books and so I started to read his second novel, The Sirens of Titans. This science fiction book centers on Malachi Constant, the luckiest man in the world and owner of the richest company in the U.S., Magnum Opus, as he travels through space after being foretold of his future by Winston Niles Rumfoord who is, by all means, "unstuck in time" (I wonder if Billy and Winston have met?) and is able to see far, far, far into the future. Winston became as he is because of something called a "chrono-synclastic infundibulum". Don't know what an infundibulum is? Ask your mother. 

As is with all Vonnegut books, the plot of this book is absolutely insane. You should expect to feel like you are being whiplashed from plot point to plot point whenever you read a Vonnegut novel. Yet the charm of Vonnegut is that despite his outlandish plots, bizarre characters, and literally out-of-this-world settings, Vonnegut has a keen understanding of what it means to live a human life and is, surprisingly, sensible in that manner. 

As I am writing this blog post I am about halfway through the book and it has been a great ride through outer space. I have read two novels of his before, Slaughterhouse Five and Breakfast of Champions, and thoroughly enjoyed both of them. A mainstay in many of Vonnegut's novels are rehashed and recycled characters, ideas, and place names that only people who have read Vonnegut's older novels would understand. And while not knowing Vonnegut's self-referenced lore certainly did not detract from my experience reading Slaughterhouse Five and Breakfast of Champions (SH5 especially), I really wanted to know where Vonnegut's ideas started and how they developed over time. Thankfully, his charm and prose are still ever present in The Sirens of Titans and it's amazing to see where many of the themes he wrote about in Slaughterhouse Five got their start here in The Sirens of Titans.

Here are two of my favorite lines in The Sirens of Titans so far (spoilers!):

"Look," said Rumfoord, "life for a punctual person is like a roller coaster." He turned to shiver his hands in her face. "All kinds of things are going to happen to you! Sure," he said, "I can see the whole roller coaster you're on. And sure — I could give you a piece of paper that would tell you about every dip and turn, warn you about every bogeyman that was going to pop out at you in the tunnels. But that wouldn't help you any." 

 "I don't see why not," said Beatrice. 

 "Because you'd still have to take the roller-coaster ride," said Rumfoord. "I didn't design the roller coaster, I don't own it, and I don't say who rides and who doesn't. I just know what it's shaped like."

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

"Before turning to the signature, Unk tried to imagine the character and appearance of the writer. The writer was fearless. The writer was such a lover of truth that he would expose himself to any amount of pain in order to add to his store of truth. He was superior to Unk and Stony. He watched and recorded their subversive activities with love, amusement, and detachment... Unk turned the page and read the signature. I remain faithfullly yours--was the sentiment expressed above the signature... 

The signature was Unk's... It was literature in its finest sense, since it made Unk courageous, watchful, and secretly free." 

(I would love to have this tattooed on me someday, this entire chapter had me feeling things!)

A couple of other books I am currently reading are:

How Long Has This Been Going On by Ethan Mordden

Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Wish me luck this year!

[flowerhungry]

tired of being ✨disposable✨

I do not think my move to North Carolina is going well.

There are more bad things than good things living with Cameron's mom.

It is insanely hot.

I was denied health insurance, and the dental insurance available to me is useless.

I have spent more than anticipated in moving costs.

I am not writing as expected.

I am not feeling as expected--I thought I would feel relaxed. I thought I would have purpose. Instead, I feel alone. Oh, how alone I feel. Being surrounded by a family who does not want you unless you perform accordingly is dreadful. (Though not much different from my family. Unfortunately, I do not have the familial tie, love, or commitment with Cameron's family making any and all acts of engagement difficult.)

I upset easily.

Normal activity exhausts me.

Restful sleep alludes me.

Cameron and I are "fighting" more. They are not fights, but rather emotionally draining conversations about how my transition is hard for her.

Unfortunately, I have to (can) look at all of these bullet points through different eyes:

Marina is drinking heavily. She is going through an entire $60 bottle of Jack Daniels every 3-5 days. (Not counting the Vodka...) Her behavior is erratic and concerning. Her dependence on and unrequited obsession with Andy only seems to grow despite the cross-country distance. I find her desperation to connect with Christian and Cole unattractive. Especially compared to her disinterest in connecting with Cameron, her daughter who wants connection. There appears to be trouble in her relationship with Lonnie; such a quick entanglement and ensuing fallout further demonstrates her inability to maintain relationships. She is not capable of giving me what she advertised or what I had hoped for. And that is not my fault. Advice from yours truly: Wait until everyone is asleep. Tiptoe upstairs with your freshly brewed green tea and your girlfriend's homemade sugar cookies. Dig out your best stationary. Light a black candle for light and protection. Put on your big noise cancelling headphones. Outline your misgivings, your expectations, and your hurt. Commit such emotion to paper in pencil in case the tide changes (because it will). Include your best wishes; your hopes for a relationship in the near future. Fold the paper nicely, making sure not to smear your intentions. Tuck into its forever home, seal with a lick of indifference, and leave it somewhere pretty. Then, let it be.

It is insanely hot everywhere. The Earth is dying. We are dying. There is no escaping; our coolest summers are behind us.

Yes, it sucks that you were not approved for Medicaid. Yes, it is truly unfair that universal healthcare does not exist in America. Yes, you should have kept your dentist appointment in October when you were still in California and still insured. But nothing can be done. There is no going back. This is the now, and, in the now, I have fourteen cavities. I am going to have to pay a significant amount out of pocket to have them filled. But nothing can be done. Advice from yours truly: Look into other options. Make a list. Call Mike. Schedule an appointment. Move forward.

Money is a renewable resource.

Stephen King, among countless others, said it best: you must write--the only way to get better is to write. The only way to learn is to write. Writing is the answer. Stop running away from your destiny! It sounds cheesy, but it is the truth! write is the sound your heart whispers when you ask, "what was I made for?" It always has been. Forever and always. Advice from yours truly: Watch more hero movies. Carefully craft a "bad bitch" playlist and listen to it frequently. Remember, you are a bad bitch. Bad bitches do not hide from what they want; bad bitches run after what they want. Start every writing session by writing intentions like Octavia Butler: "I AM A WRITER. I AM A BEST SELLING AUTHOR. MY BOOKS MAKE PEOPLE FEEL. MY BOOKS ARE ON THE NEW YORK TIMES BEST SELLING LIST. I WRITE IMPORTANT STORIES THAT MAKE PEOPLE FEEL, THINK, AND REACT. I AM A WRITER. I AM A WRITER. I AM A WRITER. MY BOOK HAS A BIRTHDAY." Laugh at yourself. Find the joy, the childlike wonder in writing again. You like it for a reason. Find it. Capture it. Put it in an ecosystem it can survive in, like one of those cool terrariums you see on TikTok. Nurture it. Keep it alive.

It is okay to not feel good. It is okay to not clean your room. It is okay to struggle. You are doing your best and that is all I have ever asked for.

You just moved across the country into a shared living space with a complete stranger who regularly invites other strangers into the shared living space. You have no job, no school, and no friends. It is normal to struggle under these conditions. It is normal to not be sleeping regularly. Honestly, it would be weird if you were not struggling in some way.

Cameron is struggling too. Most importantly, she just wants to help you. Advice from yours truly: Let her help you.

[notanotherinfjblog]

The types as strangers I wish I had known (version 4)

Previous versions: One, two, three

INTJ: She was the first person to show me kindness in a new place. Moving across the country all alone in the middle of a pandemic is not exactly the ideal start of your first real job. So she took it all on herself to take me by the hand, to organise all the things that I had no clue about. She gave me a little tour around the workplace, recommended me places to eat once the pandemic is over, asked me about how I was settling in, remembered little things I mentioned. She was the only person not working from home when I first arrived and so it was just the two of us. She was quiet and reserved as most people here seem to be, and she was awkward in every way when interacting with me. But she tried so hard and maybe it’s just me projecting, but she said her son was in the very same situation as me right now, and it felt like she tried to help me in the way she couldn’t help her son, like she wanted to take me under her wing, but not make it awkward, and then actually making it slightly awkward in doing so. Her heart just felt warm and so did mine when I said thank you.

ENTJ: Everyone knows the classic character of a self-righteous doctor in a hospital show. You know that one. The one that everyone thinks may be hard-working and clever, but heartless and uncaring and egocentric, but a few episodes down the line you start to see that there is more going on underneath the rude attitude. I’ve always believed this to be a stereotypical depiction that is more of a caricature until I met her. She was a doctor at a hospital I stayed in, and damn, she was just like that. She stormed into the rooms, rolled her eyes at a patient whose German was bad, even though she had a thick accent herself, couldn’t be bothered to commit to polite standards of communication like saying hello or thanks, and she didn’t care to wait for just a second when a nurse was in her way and pushed her aside instead. Especially two young nurses were exasperated with her and complained about her as soon as she stormed out of the room. They really made me feel like I had gotten myself into a hospital show as a patient, it was fantastic. And I have to say, even though this young doctor had all of these flaws, she was the only one that actually talked to the patients and explained what was going on, hell she even talked to that woman’s daughter on the phone for a few minutes because the woman didn’t understand the language. Just like on tv, she may have been rude, but at least she seemed like a good doctor.

INTP: My university department held a conference and I was responsible for making sure that all these professors and PhD students didn’t die from their coffee cravings, so I spent most of my time running around with giant coffee cans. And I have to admit, among all the scientists that were roaming the halls, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was a PhD student from the Netherlands and there was just something about him that did not fit in. You know how professors are often a bit eccentric or strange by normal standards (which explains why we had to explain to an unspeakable amount of them how a coffee can works), so you’d imagine he’d fit right in. But he didn’t. He was his own universe. While everyone was networking, he was studying the research posters in silence. Not because he was too shy, he seemed very comfortable in his own skin. He just didn’t seem to care all that much about other people. I got to listen to a few talks and as he sat in front of me, I saw him play a video game. At an international conference. With professors and colleagues sitting behind him. And he still managed to ask intelligent questions about the talk afterwards. No idea how. Part of me wished I could have talked to him, not because he was cute though he was, but rather because I really could not tell you what kind of person he was. Was he a good person? A bad one? Probably something in-between. But I don’t think my opinion would have fazed him all that much, since to me, he seemed like the kind of person that valued his own opinion on himself the most, and I think that’s a good thing that he’s got there.

ENTP: I had just moved to a different city in a completely different part of the country, and I had just gotten back from my first walk around town. Sounds exciting, but I got back to this unfamiliar flat that I was supposed to call home now and I was panicking. So I stepped out on the balcony hoping the cold air and the stars above could calm my nerves. But it wasn‘t them that did. I stood there in the dark and saw an elderly couple in the parking lot. The woman was in a very similar mental state as me. She was running around their car and was talking about all the things they still had to take care of and things they‘d need, but had forgotten, and her voice got higher and shakier with every word. And then her husband just went and hugged her. She kissed him goodbye three times and every time she did, he let out a little laugh, calm and gentle. He pat her on the back and said that everything was going to be okay, that they would see each other again tomorrow. She kissed him goodbye one last time before she drove away, and I stood there alone in the dark and thanked the universe that I was there at the right time to hear this old man‘s words. For some reason he always seems to appear every time I‘m feeling low and strikes up a little chat with me. And every time he leaves, I have already forgotten what I was sad about.

INFJ: I think everyone pursuing an academic career has this one hero, this one scientist that lit the spark in their heart to dedicate their life to science just like them. I know I have one. So when I started an internship at his lab with one of his colleagues, I didn‘t really expect to meet him. I had seen him around once in a while, yes, but who was I to approach a stranger to tell him what his work meant to me? But then came the plenary meeting that was meant to get more people of the lab to get to know one another - and he approached me. He sat down next to me, asked me about my academic past and future, asked about my current project with his colleague. And I still can‘t believe it. Only a little girl singing in the church choir who is suddenly approached by Beyoncé can hope to imagine what it felt like. He was an internationally renowned scientist, he would have had every reason to look down on the rest of us. Many of them certainly do. But here he was, talking to a little intern from abroad. He was such a genuinely nice person, was sweet and slightly awkward, he even mirrored my weird head nodding that I always do when all the words have left me. He felt like a kindred spirit. I didn‘t tell him what these few minutes talking to him meant to me though part of me wishes that I did, yet still he invited me to the meetings of his research team even though I was not a part of it. And when I came and sat down, he turned around, smiled at me and turned away again, and I can‘t tell you how insane it feels that all of this actually happened.

ENFJ: I’ve written about him before and I will write about him forever. I remember the day our eyes first met in that crowded school corridor almost half of my life ago. I don’t know why neither of us could look away that day, why neither of us could ever look away again from this day on. Somehow our eyes always found each other. I remember the snowy day at the train station so many years later, how he stood there alone in the cold and how he slowly walked towards me, his eyes glued to his feet that abruptly stopped right next to mine. And yet he stayed silent. As did I. So we stood there for an hour waiting for our train, quickly averting our eyes every time they came close to meeting. I remember him looking back at me over his shoulder once we got off the train. He seemed quite flustered that I was about to find out that he had parked his car right next to mine and so he fled. Both of us kept parking our cars next to each other, even when we didn’t see each other for months. But I could never follow him out. He was my own personal mystery. I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling wondering what it was, this strange thing that was going on between us, this little secret that we shared, and I wondered who he really was inside, not who he pretended to be in front of his friends. He was like an island in their midst, always a bit detached, always tucked away behind a smile. Soon twelve years will have passed and still we’ve never spoken a word, but somehow these dark brown eyes still feel more familiar than my own, these eyes that always seemed to look right into my soul. I could have stared at them my whole life. I honestly have no idea what it is that is tying me to him, what it is that I felt back then and what I’m feeling right now. Maybe I’ll never know. I haven’t seen him in three years, but I know our paths will cross again some day. I can feel it in my bones. This story is not over yet. Maybe then we’ll finally be ready to meet properly. Maybe then we’ll finally be able to speak. 

INFP: I happened to stand at the window when I saw the new postman approach our letterbox, and so I watched him throw letters and magazines inside - and stop. He moved his head closer to the box and a frown appeared on his face. He backed off, wanted to leave, came back again and didn’t seem to know what he was supposed to do. So he rang the doorbell. As I opened the door, there he was, shy and with slight panic in his eyes. “I’m so sorry”, he said. “There is a sign on your letterbox that you don’t want advertisements, but I saw that too late and I had already thrown it in. I’m terribly sorry. I can’t get it out of the box and so I thought, I should ask if that’s alright.” And my heart just went awwww, that’s adorable. I smiled at him and told him that it was absolutely fine. He seemed so relieved. So he went away and I closed the door.

ENFP: This is for the man with the kind, but heartbreakingly sad eyes who sometimes sits in front of the train station silently begging for money. This is for the grandparents who spent their train ride trying to teach their little grandchildren the numbers from one to five. This is for the old woman who always kneels down in the middle of the train station with her forehead pressed to the ground, keeping still for hours, enduring the devastation of thousands of people passing by without stopping. This is for the woman who knelt down next to a homeless man, who took his hand and asked how she could help him. This is for the man who made faces at the little boy sitting next to him on the train to make him laugh. This is for the anger I felt when I saw the distraught face of a 10-year-old boy coming out of the movie „1917“ at the cinema with his father. This is for the happy little puppy who lives next to the bakery where I usually grab my lunch. This is for the twenty people who decided to all speak a foreign language during a meeting with each other just because I was there too, a total stranger they had never even seen before who is bad at their native language. This is for the creep that asked me in the middle of the street at night to accompany him. This is for the two teenagers who went to buy sandwiches and coffee for a homeless woman. This is for the families I often see sitting at the train stations, sometimes with a baby in their arms, holding a sign saying „Syrian family. We are hungry, help us please.“ This is for the man who yelled at his girlfriend because she gave them some money. This is for the people who play music during everyone‘s morning commute on the train. This is for all the people who approached me speaking in French and started to laugh when I apologised for not being very good at it. This is for Paris, in all its beauty and all its ugliness. This is for humanity, in all its beauty and ugliness.

ISTJ: He was sitting alone on the train, looking out of the window while listening to something with headphones. He was a tall guy in his mid-20s, one with a full beard, long brown hair in a neat ponytail, and a t-shirt of some rock band that I had never heard of. So, I was sitting there, three meters away, minding my own business, when I suddenly heard a giggle. The entire car of the train had been quiet all this time as it usually is, so I looked up and saw this guy trying to contain his laughter. He pressed the lips together, scratched his nose in order to inconspicuously cover his mouth. I don’t know where this sudden burst of laughter came from. Maybe he was listening to an audio book and reached a funny part. Maybe he was listening to a voice message of a funny friend. Maybe he just had a very amusing thought, I don’t know. But I’ve always had a soft spot for people who randomly start laughing in public and get embarrassed about it cause it’s always, always adorable.

ESTJ: She was a PhD student at my university and she was the one who mainly organised the conference that the above mentioned INTP was attending, too. And even though she didn‘t get tired of complaining about how much work this all was, how typical it was of her boss to volunteer to hold the conference at our university and then not lifting a single finger, she was like a fish in the water, not out of it. She observed everything and everyone, immediately recognised little problems or things that could become a problem, she was constantly running around checking everything, and she kept so many things in mind, it was impressive. One of the attendees sat in a wheelchair and as soon as she noticed, she made us rebuild the entire cafeteria immediately so that everything was reachable for her. And in all the running around, all the obligatory smalltalk, all the stress, she still found the time to stand with us student helpers and joke around.

ISFJ: It was 6pm on a Friday afternoon when all of Paris was trying to get home in the middle of a train strike, so the trains that did run were even more crowded than usual. I did not enjoy sharing 5 square metres with almost 40 other people. But then he entered the train and stood right next to me, leaning against the doors without moving, looking like an intellectual in gangster clothes. We were surrounded by noise of people talking and of rails screaming, by strangers breathing onto our skin, and he just stood there unfazed by it all. He radiated calmness like I‘ve never seen anyone do before. Soon it reached me too, filled me up and left no place for any distress or anxiety. He was like an island in the storm that grew and grew and grew until all of the 40 people around him were safe. I felt safe. I don‘t think he has even the faintest clue about how special he is, but I feel like it has been a privilege to have crossed paths with him.

ESFJ: Did you ever meet someone who, on first glance, looks like the perfect example of a jock, just a short guy with bigger arms than he’s tall? But then you look again, take a closer look at him and you realise that his face has goodness written all over it. He may be horribly bad at grammar for a linguistics student and he may be a bit too sensitive for his own good, but he never made it a secret of how much of a sweetheart he really is. And in situations like these, when he talks about how emotional he got as a tutor when his student told him about a dying grandfather because he felt responsible for the student’s wellbeing, in situations like these, when he approaches my friend after a class to apologise for his harsh criticism of her presentation and to tell her that he didn’t mean it that way, to which she gets all confused because she didn’t take the slightest offence to anything he has ever said in his entire life and he mumbles that he may have to stop beating himself up about stuff like this, I just want to give him a hug and never let go. 

ISTP: I saw her on the metro during rush hour in Paris, and I immediately noticed her to be different. Everyone else always only stares at their phones or into space, everyone else always look like a tired zombie. She was not a zombie. She was leaning against the doors, shaking her leg in the rhythm of the music she was listening to. She was short and skinny, and not even her punk boots could hide that, but there was such a confidence shining out of her, a confidence in who she was that made her look like a giant. She looked like she‘s probably had it rather rough in life, but it didn‘t break her. She rose to the adversity, rose in spite of it all. She seemed to be capable of so many things. Intelligent enough to go into science if she ever wanted to, vicious enough to end someone who ever dared to cross her, warm enough to love deeply and with all her heart if she let it.

ESTP: It was a hot day and far hotter than a September afternoon ever should be. I was stuck in a traffic jam in the city, melting in my car as were so many others, waiting for that red light to finally turn green. And then he came, a young guy in an ugly shirt and with a hat on his head. He started to cross the street, but then stopped right there in the middle. And he started to juggle. In the middle of a traffic jam on a Friday afternoon, he juggled. Just before his green light turned to red, he bowed down to the cars a few times, and then jumped to the sidewalk and left. Thanks, mate, you enigmatic juggling traffic hero.

ISFP: I met him at a wedding. He was a bald man in his 70s with thick horn glasses and probably the most intimidating person I’ve ever met. Not because he was mean, but because he was so confident in himself and so observant. His gaze constantly changed direction. He took everything in that happened around him, he didn’t miss a single thing that was going on, and still he was calm and sure of himself that everyone at our table felt like they had to impress him in some way. Just by looking at him you knew he must have lived an extraordinary life and he really did. He liked talking about himself. He talked about living in the American desert, on a mediterranean island, in a Buddhist monastery, and on a cruise ship. He talked about the smell of the desert at night, about the taste of oranges picked from a tree. He talked about the people he met, about professors and musicians, about cooks and monks. He talked about how much his village loved him. But he also liked listening to others talk about their own lives. It was obvious that he treated life as an experience, as a journey that cannot be planned or imagined, only lived. When we said goodbye, he looked me right in the eye and told me that he thinks it’s great what I’m doing with my life and that he’s looking forward to meeting me again some day. It felt a bit like receiving praise from a deity. 

ESFP: He was a nurse in the accident and emergency department at the hospital and the first person to talk to me while I was waiting in front of an examination room. He was only passing by with a colleague, but he stopped the conversation when he saw me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Aw, sugarmouse, what happened to you?”, was the first thing he said to me. You know, if an unknown man in his 50s is coming towards you and calls you “sugarmouse”, you’re usually not exactly happy, but he was just an overwhelmingly non-threatening guy that called all of the nurses and doctors by kitschy nicknames and radiated warmth wherever he went. He had noticed that I was nervous, and so he came to me and tried to gently put my mind at ease and I was really grateful for it.

[stormblessed95]

Sorry if you already answered this one but I would be interested to hear more about why and since when you think Bighit knows about Jikook. Because this has always been a point for me that I’m really unsure about. I kinda can’t imagine that they’re able to hide it from their really close staff but then again I wonder why they are paired up in official content so much. I feel like if bighit knows they would be even more cautious not to put too much obvious jikook moments out there. On the other hand it would be really dumb not to 'use' jikooks chemistry and to make money out of that. Might sound rude but that is what’s the companies goal at the end of the day. Making money. And jikook work well together so why not use that potential.

Hello, I talked about this a bit in this ask already:

I think the members were all mostly aware by 2017, for sure by the end of that year. I think staff was made aware sometime in 2017-2018.

They would be dumb not to use Jikook officially as a duo when the chemistry they have together just seeps off them. Lol and besides, the members do also get a lot of say in what they do and when. They built that company to what it is today. They get a lot of leeway as artists. And otherwise in official content, they really aren't paired up too much. With RUN, teams are usually randomly decided. With advertising, BH doesn't pick those pairings, whatever company they are shooting an ad for does. With jacket shoots and photos, it's normally other pairings. Now we have gotten ICONIC photoshoot duos with them that are breathtaking. I love that BH doesn't shy away from pairing them up for shoots like that. And I think thay is honestly why. They work well together and their duo work always comes out insanely good. And I wouldn't necessarily say that it's BHs fault they come out looking so couple-y. I don't think the vibes would have been the same if it was NamGi or JinKook doing a photoshoot with the same set with the same props lol

I also think it's important to remember that Bang PD is and has been very openly supportive of the LGBTQIA+ community. He has repeatedly recommended queer artists to the general public as well as the artists working under him, has been generally supportive, and even gifted another Kpop idol, Jo Kwon, his first pair of heels to perform in when he said all he wanted to do was be true to himself. He asked him if he wanted to do what the public wanted to see from him, or do what HE wanted to do. And when he said he wanted to do what he wanted and be true to himself, Bang PD purchased him his first pair of heels a few weeks later. He now owns and shows off a fabulous collection of heels and other shoes

Giving Jikook official units in photoshoots or during dances is because they work well together and produce amazing content together. Separating them would be harmful to not only the group as a whole, it's not who BH has shown to be as a company. They have shown that they give their artists a high level of artistic freedom. Along with the fact that they air and give official content with Jikook being very, uhh, couple-y, could also simply be their way of saying, we support you. They are closeted. They are hiding behind ambiguity on purpose. While BH will cut overly suspicious content, I'm sure, I do think they want to let their artists live as authentically as they want to, and I think that's amazing. Are they perfect? No. Do they make mistakes? Plenty. Are there things I wish they did differently or better? Yes, especially in the beginning. But I also think there is a reason BTS is close enough with their CEO to get drunk with him and post videos on WeVerse of him cooking you a multiple course meal at home. Lol thanks Jin

I rambled way longer than I planned to under this post. Lol sorry!! Hope this helped answer your question!