#I guess I should say click on pictures for better quality and to see the full panel

[godheadjones]

jughead being aroace, a compilation I should have made an original post but oh well. it’s aroace jughead

idk. canon aro jughead brainrot

[localfanbaselurker]

Yall know the drill!! Let’s get it baby!!

Watching Voltron: LD for the First Time and Saying What I Think

S1-2 | S3 | S4 | S5 | S6 | you are here! | S8

upon formatting this debrief/review, I realized quite quickly that I was gonna run out of the image limit too soon, no matter how many collages I made, so some ideas are better if you specifically remember scenes. Click on images for better quality! I apologize, I only have tumblr on mobile. please enjoy this edition anyway!

Pre-Season 7 Thoughts

-> I said in my S6 post that I thought it could be a decent ending if some strings were finally tied, so hopefully this season clears those up

-> S6 was pretty intense at the end, hopefully they tone it down a notch as they go on their little earth roadtrip

-> the aftermath of Lotor dying is definitely something that will weigh on Allura. Hopefully she doesn’t get too torn up about it

-> I’m really curious as to how the new team dynamics will play out now that Kieth is back as black paladin. Will they go back to s1? s3? Will they just act like nothing??

-> really wanna scene where keith calls krolia mom for the first time

-> what is with this “game show” episode??

-> I’m curious as to how ships will play out now.. Lance seems to be okay with Allura not liking him back after s6, their talk was really nice. As much as I think they look cute together, Allura needs time to get over Lotor first, and Lance seems to be already moving on.

-> now that Kieth is back, I wonder if there was more “klance moments” for people to go crazy over

->also where has Matt been this whole time??

-> them going to earth will probably explore their families, and i really wanna see more of their lore. (Especially keith)

->Hopefully shiro finally gets a break after everything. I’m excited to see who this love interest of his is!!

Post-Season 7

-> holy fuck. yall did not lie. that was…intense.

->ultimately I did not get my pre-s7 wish then.

-> I really liked all the keith/shiro lore about their relationship. It was really sweet. Shiro was the first person (besides his dad I guess) to show him patience and kindness. That’s so heartwarming.

->added to all the motifs and references to them saving each other,,very sweet. I love found family stuff like that. so i very much liked that episode (besides the “tiny” subplot lolz)

-> Romelle (as opposed to the name I gave her: “sailor moon altean girl”) is actually so real. She and hunk have the same “only normal one” vibe and i respect that.

-> literally where was haggar/honerva this whole time. Did she take a sabbatical or something??

->this image is so chaotic…literally what are yall doing 😭

->cosmic wolf (Kosmo, apparently) dgaf I love him

-> Allura is such a cutie.. “but I’m terrible at drawing! 😔” I love her so much

->^hunk upgraded his bayard!! Yayyyyy! More character development!!!

->Axca is back! (I have since long stopped calling her “space asami girl”)

-> i think she’s a really interesting character. While the other of Lotor’s generals go for whatever seems right for them, (as you should in war) she seems to calculate things on a matter of both that and morality, while also looking at the big picture. “Well, this would save my ass, save the universe from chaos, and be morally intact…sounds good”

->^is this the klance moment? seems a little sad tbh. why Lance is like that “wait where are you going?” relax bro he’s not gonna disappear

-> they’ve been gone FOR THREE YEARS????

-> what the FREAK.

-> imagine now how their families have missed them 🙁 I’m actually so sad abt that ☹️

->the game show ep…was really funny. Idk where yall got all this angst from. New mission: write a fluff one shot post-game show.

->^i literally cannot get over this??? Like.. they could’ve really made him say anything else. “because mullet here would punch you to the end of eternity if he didn’t get out *smirk*” or something like that but no it /had/ to be that. And the others thought it was odd too, I mean look at their expressions.

->And same goes for Keith??? If you don’t wanna spend an eternity with Lance just pick yourself?? There had to be another reason. If they made all the other characters say insightful and heartfelt things about one another, why can’t Keith say anything?

-> I think because keith and Lance chose each other, making both of them say nice things would drive you guys a little crazy, so I think they tried to just “klance-proof” (like baby-proof) this season by making them barely interact unless it’s a battle or doing so in a s1/2 way

->Because otherwise keith acted…really out of character..? I think it might be to his growth on the quantum abyss trip, but it just felt so odd to watch him this season

->the “floating in space” episode was actually super interesting to watch. Going space crazy caused for their truest thoughts and desires to come out from the dark. (going to earth, what they think about each others’ actions) I thought that was really cool.

->KEITH CALLED KROLIA MOM!!! IT HAPPENED!! OMG. SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FALLING TO MY KNEES AT WALMART!!!!!!!!🫡💪🔥🔊🗣️

->Krolia and kolivan definitely explored each other’s bodies idgaf. Kolivan is the dad that stepped up fr.

->Colleen Holt is an icon. She’s a girlboss. She’s a legend. I love her so much. Sam better watch out 🤛👊🤜

->^from “who is this divaaaa 😍😍” to “OMG GIRL LANCE??? 😮😁” to “OMG LANCE’S SISTERRRRR😆🤩”

->^is this not the “the pilot crashed!” girl from 1x01??

->tbh i literally could give less of a fuck about these people. The girls seem cool I guess. But I don’t really care about any of them.

->also no way they deadass named a dude kinkade. That was wild even for them (I’m so sorry if it’s a cultural thing)

->^I love it when they do little homage bits like referencing back s1 or 2 like this

->^screaming crying throwing up.

->^^that hug between pidge and her mom..i felt that. that shit was personal. Ya’ll see the way she held on to her? Diabolical work. (I’m tearing up as I type this)((that’s exactly how I’ve held my mom b4))

->^^^“uncle lance!” STOP. DON’T DO THIS TO ME. I CAN’T DO THISSSSSS *screams*

->HUUUNNNKKKK. MY BOYYYYY. UGHHHHHH. I’m gonna die

-> I will say this tho, I’m glad he’s getting a lot of focus and attention his way these last few seasons (6&7). Like yes!! Give the realest mf in the whole show the attention and appreciation he deserves!!!

->I was so happy when he got his parents back like I genuinely did a little celebratory dance (jumping up and down and going “yes!yes!yesyesyesyes! yeeeessssssss!” while doing exaggerated hand gestures)

->Adam fucking died.

->not even one scene showing his and shiro’s positive interactions. or them being romantic. one and a half scenes. And then he’s gone.

-> while, for the most part, I try to understand the writers faults further than just face level, (ie netflix or dreamworks just didn’t let them explicitly put anything there) idk I just. I feel like they could’ve at least played it off as them being “good friends” or something. But to kill him off is just…it feels wrong.

->and it feels like a wrong for shiro too. He finally gets to be on earth after everything that’s happened to him, and the one thing he’d been hoping to finally see,,is gone.

->I just feel like they did shiro dirty. they can never give that poor man a break.

->^I was right! Keith is definitely acting different because of his growth on the quantum abyss (or “space whale” as people seem to call it). It’s nice to know he’s matured and stuff, and can actually say what he feels and such, be a good team member/leader. I just wish it wasn’t all off-screen. (and while I’m happy for him..I do miss his more broody early-season self a bit)

->as much as I think allurance is cute, I feel like they’re kinda rushing it. Like. by the time they got to Earth it had barely been a month of being stuck in space post-s6. Maximum it’s been 3 months by the time of the final battle. she would not be blushing. She would be mourning Lotor. They could’ve had a little subplot about that,,the crushing weight of knowing she could’ve both stopped his death and the guilty feeling of “why am i mourning him..? He was a bad person” because she still loved him!! She still loved him when they were about to leave him in the quintessence field and she felt conflicted!!

->she would’ve also not caught feelings that fast. Let’s say she somehow miraculously got over Lotor in 2 months. (minimum!) she still wouldn’t have caught feelings! Maybe she would start like. the budding processes to begin to fall for lance…but she wouldn’t be blushing and being all bashful like that.

-> basically all I’m saying is I really hope they don’t rush this. It would feel unfair to both her and Lance. Allura literally was like “oh..😕 he said that..☹️?” In s6 when the mice told her about Lance’s feelings because she felt bad about breaking his heart.

->and Lance has literally been after her for a really long time,, so it’d be unfair to pair him with someone who only started liking him like a week ago.

->I also hate the “guy pines after girl, girl doesn’t reciprocate and turns him down a lot, guy almost gives up, girl starts falling for him just as the show ends after not showing any interest previously” trope. (I am aware Allura and Lance do share some more sweet and romantic scenes/moments in s4-6, but you catch my drift, right?)

-> I really hope they put it well in s8.

->^I got to that Lance scene I’ve seen everywhere and just. Wow. it was so intense. I actually got chills. Amazing work from the animation crew yet again.

-> the final battle was sooo amazing and so beautiful.

->the atlas stuff kinda threw me off tho.

->that admiral sanda girl was a bitch (i do not use that term lightly, especially for female characters) and not to sound like a maniac im glad she died ngl. She was stupid as hell if she thought her plan would work.

->also if the galra can invent something that can easily overpower Voltron, then why don’t they just take over the universe themselves?? They clearly have the resources to.

->seriously the atlas’s stuff was insane. Fym it’s a ship that makes a bigger, cooler, grizzled Voltron??(yes I will forever use that joke)

->^because like. Then what do you need Voltron for??

->like the pacing and plot twists and shit felt so off and out of nowhere this season.

->and the real kicker was the altean chick controlling that giant monster thang. literally what the freak. where the cameras at I know I’m getting pranked right now. they were just pulling shit out of their asses by then.

->again, need to say, if it weren’t for that altean chick, this could’ve also been a good ending?? like after reading the Wikipedia page I found out they had a 72 episode contract, so they need to get those last episodes out, (76 total, I did the math) but if anything I think it would be best if it was just a little anthology sort of thing. Like them defeating the rest of the galra left out, freeing planets, and focusing on their own lives and relationships (during and after). That would be probably the best course of action for s8.

->but apparently it has a “bad ending” (which I’m pretty sure is just ship stuff and people exaggerating)

->erm yeah that’s pretty much it. I think. Yay!

These are thoughts I compile over time. I finished Season 7 on 10/12/24. I apologize for my delay on posting this, I was meant to post it last week. I will now finally start what you have probably all been waiting for: Season 8.

Remember, my ask box is always open!! Feel free to ask anything on my opinions and such!!

[maximuswolf]

Beginner & Grind Size frustration

Beginner & Grind Size frustration (mini rant)I'm a couple months into trying to really learn more about making coffee at home. I now have an AeroPress and a Switch as my main weapons. I feel like I watched too many vids, and have a dozen of the top recipes for each method.but the damm grind size problem...I'm using a zpresso JX S manual grinder. I've got their useless picture chart, and I've been to many sites trying to make a little table comparing to other grinders so when some video says to use a XX on model YY I can try to get a good range for me.Sadly, after months I feel like I'm still guessing. I'm seeing a LOT of recipes calling for medium-fine. But when a vid zooms in a bit on what they consider medium-fine, I feel like I'm seeing anything from fine to coarse! For the love of me, I can't find a REAL REAL good set of SUPER high-quality pictures, let alone lock in where I should be.I know... trial and error.. still working on that part. I've gone from hanging out around 2.0.0 on my JX to around 3.0.0 and up to 3.5.0 in the last couple of days.Meanwhile, I'm hampered by the problem that I simply do not know if what I'm tasting *is* sour..or bitter..or acidic, which means I could be adjusting the wrong way. About all I can go with for now is "doesn't taste right" or "how funny of a face am I making"In the meantime, I'm trying to stick with a single (recipe, bean, water temp, grind amount, water around, bottled water by suggestion in another post) to limit the variables until I lock in the correct grind size - then I'll work on the other variables.Recipe I'm using now is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68ZOXrXbVHc due to its simplicity & positive reviews by people doing a lot better then me. Can anyone tell me (more or less) exactly what # of clicks I should be using on my JX ?OH - one last thing - I do like the couple of recipes that try to tell you to nail in your ground by drain time at the end. F'instance, in the vid I mention, he says the final drain should be about 45 seconds & use that to adjust. 3.5.0 went too fast, and 3.0.0 was a bit fast as well. So I'll probably just keep going down 0.1 and see if I hit a part where I start making funny faces - then go back up 0.1.PS - anyone have a real good guide/video on locking in the correct grind size? Submitted March 08, 2023 at 06:00AM by polstein7 https://ift.tt/OYd97Ck via /r/Coffee

[deadliestpieceontheboard]

The Foxhole Villa

I’d say anyone on the aftg fandom has at least heard of Blame It On My Youth, by @yourficstheyglow​, at this point; if not read some of it. (I wouldn’t consider it spoilers but the post will contain info about the fic so idk)

Soon, the Foxes will be moving together and all the planning and descriptions of what each of them wanted in their houses got me inspired, so I present to you: The Foxhole Villa!

Individual posts for each house: [Minyard-Josten] [Aaron+Katelyn] [Allison+Renee] [Matt+Dan] [Kevin+Thea] [photoshoot]

(click on the image for better quality, you should be able to zoom in all of them)

Descriptions and pictures of the communal areas under the cut:

First of all, let us all use our imaginations and pretend there's actually woods around the lot. It was just the biggest one we have on Sims 4. The houses would also ideally be a bit farther away from each other but alas. Per Neil's request, their house faces the back; while Renison's is the first one with Kevin's right next to it when Andreil visits the construction. The other two I think I just guessed. All the houses have, of course, solar panels, and the playroom has wind turbines.

(again, just click to actually see it without tumblr butchering it.)

I like to think the two trees inside the inner ring (we didn't have curved walls when I built most of it so it's a rectangle) were native ones Renee refused to cut, so they planned around it. You can see a painted picnic table, yoga mats, a playground, and that green ring of chairs has an outside fireplace in the middle. Bottom-right picture is outside the ring, between the twin's house. I just thought Andrew could try his hand modelling bushes for the funsies. From the upper-view you can see Renee's garden between hers and Aaron's. All the glass around the ring is slightly green-tinted, like the mentioned plan for energy generation.

And it all lights up at night!

The shared space, as mentioned in the fic, includes a kitchen/dinning room and a movie room with Allison's so desired enormous TV. They have a Jack-and-Jill bathroom between them with two toilets (not gender specific). The sunroom can sit all 14 residents + 2 guests, not counting the bar stools, and the upper-floor of the playroom has some games. (the floor is courtesy of letting Nat and Paige have some fun with paint)

An inside view of the spaces. There is a puppet show stall in the movie room for the kids to play. I really like how the sunroom turned out!

And lastly: in case they're having guests, or want to go straight to the ring, instead of having to go through one of the houses there's a door between Kevin's and Renison's, with a koi floor art from Nat as reception!

[rwprincess]

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

[sehunniepotwrites]

sakura kiss | n.yt

PART III OF FOR YOU IN FULL BLOOM: THE HANAHAKI COLLECTION

🌸 synopsis—the four times you noticed yuta’s love for flowers and the one time you realized it was not the flowers he was in love with

🌸 genre—  would you be so kind? universe ; hanahaki!au, university!au, flower shop!au, angst, romance, slight fluff, mutual pining, strangers to lovers!au 🌸 pairing— art student/florist!yuta x art student!reader (f) 🌸 word count— 9000+

🌸 warnings — cursing; mentions of coughing, vomiting, hospital visits, death (no one dies!!), two idiots in love

🌸 author’s note—so i finished a fic with my favorite trope in time for my birthday today (dec 11th) and i’m posting to celebrate! it all started with this tweet that said yuta used to work at a flower shop and enjoyed drawing the plants during his free time! 

this was a fun write and it takes place in the same verse as wybsk, which is linked above! you can read sakura kiss as a stand alone or after wybsk to get a better understanding of two scenes! to those you came from my mark fic, i gave yn a name (kira)!

but here she is! enjoy and be sure to tell me what you think!! i love feedback uwu

Nakamoto Yuta, you noticed, was an unusual fellow. He was your senior in the art department, a fourth-year preparing for his graduation while you were a couple of semesters behind him. Other than his small circle of friends, the foreign exchange student kept to himself, burying his handsome face in his sketchbook. You had classes together before but those were large lectures with over fifty students in the room— this was the first time you shared a small studio lab with him.

Barely interacting with him in the past, you were determined to change that no matter how intimidating Yuta was.

Were you intimidated by his extremely good looks or his unmatched talents in the fine arts? Both. Definitely both. He turned heads without fail and when he smiled, oh my god, you thought he was the sun. Yuta was pretty, beyond pretty even, with his striking face, brown eyes, and perfect body proportions. 

To add on top of his perfection, his art style was immaculate. The artist never failed to steal your breath away with a couple of strokes and a swipe of his blessed hand. Anything he touched turned to gold. Never sharing those thoughts with him in the past, you made a firm decision to tell your senior this coming semester.

Yuta sat at the easel next to you, barely two feet away from your station. His sketchbook and drawing utensils were already splayed out on the holder. He was fiddling with his phone to pass the time, his painted nails rapidly hitting his touchscreen. How did Yuta make something so mundane as checking his phone look so ethereal? The inner most thoughts in your head cursed whatever beings lived in the beyond for not endowing you with such looks. 

You gulped, gathering up the courage to talk to him. “Hey,” you greeted shyly. 

Hey? That was the best you could do?

Yuta turned towards you, gaze shifting away from his phone. “Hey,” he said back with a slight curve of the lip. 

“I don’t know if you remember me but we had a couple of classes together last semester,” you forced yourself to say with an awkward smile.

He grinned and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, almost like he was holding back a laugh. “Yeah, no, of course, I remember you.” Your name slips from his mouth, causing your awkward smile to turn into a genuine one. His tone is kind and his voice is low, sending shivers down your spine.

You tried your best to keep the conversation going, wanting to finally compliment him on his work but your professor entered the room and called for everyone’s attention. He handed out the syllabus to a student upfront and around the papers went, signifying the start of your first class. Yuta shot you an apologetic look, conveying that you could always continue the conversation later. 

The overview of the course’s syllabus was always the boring part of the first days. Your eyes glazed over, still not fully awake from rising early, and you tried to shake the sleepiness away. Stealing a glance at Yuta, you almost laughed at how his easel was angled in a way to hide that he wasn’t paying any attention. His syllabus outline was discarded off to the side and Yuta’s hands were moving rapidly, sketching out a large tree in full bloom in a page of his notebook.

It looked like flower petals raining from the branches and a person leaning against the tree trunk, hiding underneath the shade. His sketching speed and quality amazed you— how exactly did he sketch that fast and that beautifully?

You made sure your professor wasn’t looking in your direction before nudging Yuta’s side to grab his attention. He snapped out of his drawing daze and turned to you with widened eyes. A red seeped into his ears and pale cheeks, but you missed it completely, eyes zoned in on his quick draw.

“Hm?”

“That’s really good,” you whispered.

He rubbed the back of his neck at your compliment. “It’s just a quick sketch,” Yuta tried to play it off. He was never one to take compliments so well.

You leaned over to get a closer look. Noticing you almost falling off your stool, Yuta shifted his easel slightly closer to yours. “Is that a cherry blossom tree?”

He nodded, “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot.”

“Do they remind you of home?” you asked. You couldn’t imagine being an exchange student in a foreign country— you would miss home too much.

“Yeah but that’s not really the reason why I’m drawing them,” he replied. His eyes shifted to a look of pain or discomfort as if he was reminded of a scarring memory. You watched him closely to make sure he was okay. He cleared his throat before letting out a couple of concealed coughs, face digging into his shoulder. 

“You alright, Nakamoto?” You were too embarrassed to call him by his first name.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little cough.” Yuta gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “And you can just call me Yuta, you know?”

“Right, noted,” the name felt so foreign on your tongue. 

“I have cough drops in my bag if you want some,” you offered, already reaching down to grab your backpack. He quickly dismissed you, telling you it wasn’t necessary. 

Continuing to watch him sketch, you admired the way Yuta fussed over the smallest details— the lining, the shading, etc. It was nothing more than a simple sketch but if it was gifted to you, it would be framed and hung for the world to see. 

He really was an artistic genius. 

“Cherry blossoms are my favorite flowers,” you said.

You were too absorbed in his drawing to hear him mutter, “I know.”

“You say something?” 

Yuta cleared his throat again with a pained expression. His hand held his neck for a second before shaking his head. “I said, they used to be mine too.”

Huh, you never really picked him as the flower loving type. 

—🌸—

This was the third time Nakamoto Yuta had flowers growing in his chest and he hated it. 

It was less painful the first two times around, probably because they were nothing more than fleeting crushes. He was in high school then, wholly infatuated with two different students during those years. Yuta followed them around like a lovesick puppy, all smiles and waiting on their hands and feet. He coughed a couple of petals out and it caused some uneasiness, but after being rejected harshly, Yuta pushed himself to move on. 

The pain of high school rejection could never compare to the dull ache he was feeling as he looked at you. There you were, the person he secretly admired for the past two semesters, merely two feet away at your own easel. 

You looked so in your element, eyebrows knitted and pencil in hand as you sketched away. A sight so captivating, Yuta almost forgot to breathe. Being an artist himself, he wanted to preserve that image on a canvas but he didn’t think his hand could do you justice. No pencil sketch, no painted canvas, no marble or clay sculpture could even compare to you. 

This was more than puppy love. More than infatuation. Yuta was sure of it but how was he to let you know? You barely knew each other and a confession out of nowhere wouldn’t be the best way to get acquainted. 

Perhaps another time, he thought to himself, before turning back to his sketch. 

You would’ve never guessed that Yuta Nakamoto had a thing for flowers but he did.

Then again, you didn’t really know what he had a thing for to begin with— your friendship just started to bloom. It was like a bud barely opening under the sunlight; with each interaction, there was something new you learned about the quiet yet charismatic art major. 

You knew he was a Japanese exchange student that majored in art, that was a given. You recently learned he loved cherry blossoms and that watercolor was his favorite art medium yet you still wanted to learn more. 

The first time you ran into him outside of class was in the university library. Yuta sat at one of the tables, his space surrounded by books on flowers. There were books on the language, arrangements, and gardening tips. His face was deep into his sketchbook once again, back bent over the desk but his focused eyes darted back and forth between his drawing and his page of reference. 

Yuta didn’t even notice as you hovered over him, debating on whether you should say hi. Even with your shadow casting over his body, his deep concentration never faltered. 

His page was filled with various plants and flowers, little notes in a messy scrawl right under their pictures. He was currently drawing cherry blossoms, the page he was referring to showcasing the anatomy of the famous flower.

“Cherry blossoms again, Yuta?” you broke the silence.

Your voice startled him, causing his pencil to slip from the artist’s grip. It made an accidental mark and you whispered an apology as he clicked his tongue. 

“Don’t worry about it, nothing an eraser can’t fix,” Yuta reassured you as he rid his paper of the unwanted mark. He blew the eraser bits of his page, hand sweeping his surface clean. He offered you the seat next to him and you gladly took it.

“So, why are you always sketching flowers?” you posed as your hand gestured to all the books he had on his person. 

“They’re beautiful, don’t you think?” he answered with another question. He gave you a cheeky little grin, his lips widening to show off his beautiful pearly whites.

“Well, yeah.”

“It’s a shame they die so easily,” Yuta said, fingers running over his sketches. “Beautiful but fleeting.”

“But that’s life, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.”

You hummed at his answer. “You’re really passionate about flowers, aren’t you?” 

“Something like that. I actually work at a flower shop nearby, maybe you’ve seen it?” Yuta fiddled with the front pocket of his backpack to pull out a business card. “I like learning about the meanings to help the customers in the shop, amongst other things.”

You took the card from his grip, examining it. For You in Full Bloom was printed largely on the thin piece of cardboard. Staring at the name, you wondered why it sounded so familiar until it hit you.

“Oh, I pass by it everyday while walking to campus! I live two blocks away from the shop.” Your smile grew wider and he smiled back for a second before his face contorted into one that conveyed pain.

Yuta turned away from you to cough into his hand, his free one hastily digging into his pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief and began to cough into that. Shocked by his sudden sick fit, you quickly patted him on the back, hoping it would help him hack out whatever was lodged in his throat.

You saw him peek into the small square of fabric and wince at whatever it caught. He cleared his throat before turning back to you. “Sorry,” Yuta muttered, rubbing the front of his neck to soothe it. Placing a cough drop in his hand, he took it without complaint and popped it in his mouth. The relieved sigh he let out made you feel slightly less worried. 

“You’re still sick?” you frowned. “You should really get that checked out, you know?”

He waved you off, “It’s nothing serious, I swear. What were we talking about again?”

“Cherry blossoms?”

“Your favorite flower.”

“And yours,” you added.

He hummed, “And mine.” There was a solemn tone behind his words but before you could press on the subject, he coughed again.

“Did you know that they’re also a symbol of renewal?”

Shaking your head, you urged your classmate to continue.

“Cherry blossoms hold the bittersweet meaning of life and death but they also bring the message of new beginnings.”

—🌸—

Yuta just wished when it came to you and him, the flowers meant the start of something new but no— instead, they just reminded him of the ache in his chest. 

They reminded Yuta of how alive he was but also how he was one step closer to his grave. 

Yes, you were merely classmates but he felt like he knew you solely from all the stories that were shared by your mutual friends in the art department. Ten and Taeyong sang praises on how thoughtful you were, always helping professors clean their studios after hours. Sicheng brought up how passionate you were about your major— Yuta himself bore witness to this many times during lectures and he wanted to know more about you. 

A lot of charm filled your figure and it was enchanting, it really wasn’t that hard for him to fall. 

Yuta fell for you much like the blossoms from the cherry trees. 

And just like the blossoms, his time was fleeting but you were so completely unaware.

You left the library first, having forgotten that you had office hours with a professor. He watched you leave, eyes fixed onto your back.

Someone once said that you become miserable if you love someone too much. Yuta believed that to be true. There was a pang in his chest, heart racing against his rib cage as a stronger nausea attack hit him. 

He gasped for air as his weakened stomach turned with sickness. Something was rising, working its way up his body. Yuta quickly slapped his hand over his lips as he hurled. Instead of bile, cherry blossom petals rained out of his mouth and into his palm.

He chuckled under his breath. Was it sad that he found beauty in his suffering? 

Yuta thought himself to be crazy as he quickly shoved away the pain to begin sketching the petals in his hand.

For You in Full Bloom— what a nice name, you thought to yourself as you entered the shop with your friend Sicheng right behind you. The light ringing of the bell attached to the front entrance alerted the people at the counter of your presence. You picked up on harsh whispers before the tall male worker rushed to the back, forcing the young girl to assist you.

“Hi, welcome in!” the girl smiled brightly at you. “How can I help you today?”

Before you could reply, Sicheng stepped forward to answer, “Kira, we’re looking for Yuta— is he here?”

“Oh, Sicheng, hey! I didn’t even see you,” Kira exclaimed. “He’s, uh, not here right now.” Kira shot Sicheng a frustrated look, eyes darting to the back. Your companion sighed, done with his friend’s stupidity. You missed the quiet interaction, being too preoccupied with your surroundings. 

“We’ll catch him another time then,” you answered her.

The small and quaint store was filled to the brim with flowers and your hands ghosted against the magnificent displays in the front window. The petals felt soft and the pleasing smells overwhelmed your senses in a good way. There was beauty all around you— there was no wonder why people loved visiting flower shops.

Various watercolor pieces were framed on the wall and you examined every artwork displayed. They were simple paintings of the plants that found a temporary home in the store. Some pieces were the flowers by themselves and others were of the many arrangements offered. They were vibrant, bright, and so incredibly detailed.

“I’ll tell him you stopped by,” she paused to ask for your name. You replied with a smile before turning back to take in the art. 

“The paintings are a nice touch,” you commented, finally turning to look at her. 

“Oh those? Yuta painted them,” Kira grinned, her body straightening up with pride. “He paints a lot when the shop is slow and my mom, the owner, loves to hang them up.”

“I should’ve known.” You took a closer look and spotted Yuta’s signature at the bottom of every picture.

“He’s very talented, isn’t he?” Kira hummed. Sicheng snorted for some unknown reason and you slapped his shoulder in response. There was nothing funny about Yuta’s skills and he knew that.

“Yeah, his skill is unmatched. I admire him for that.” 

“Have you ever told him that?”

“God, no!”

“Why not?” Kira pressed. Sicheng joined in on the pressing and you moaned, an embarrassing heat creeping up your face,

“I don’t know. We talk but I find him to be a little intimidating,” you leaned against Sicheng’s shoulder and looped your arm through his. “I can’t just go up to him and fangirl over his work, can I?”

“But you want to,” he groaned. “And I’m tired of hearing you go on about it. Just tell him.” 

A whine left your lips and you pinched your friend’s arm at the comment. He yelped and Kira just watched as the bickering continued. 

“Yuta looks intimidating, yeah, but it’s just his resting bitch face, I promise. He’s just a softie,” Kira laughed and Sicheng agreed. “You should definitely tell him. He would love hearing it, especially from you.”

There was this knowing smile on both of their lips and it just seemed like they knew something you didn’t. You tugged on Sicheng’s arm as an attempt to ask him the florist meant by the last bit of her sentence and he tried to shrug you away.  You just clung on tighter to your friend with a playful smile with Kira keeping a close eye on you.

You heard a cough come from the back of the store, causing both Sicheng and Kira to look up with concern. The coughing fit grew louder and louder, leaving Kira to excuse herself for a bit. 

“If the other florist is sick, they should be at home resting,” you tutted with a frown. 

“Some people are stubborn,” Sicheng threw back with a bit of distaste. Picking up on your friend’s bitterness, you wondered why he felt so strongly about it. You waved it off when a small display of sunflowers and red roses together captured your attention. Holding it in your hands, you admired how the two vibrant colors compliment each other.

Kira swung her way around the counter, “You like that bouquet?”

“It would be really pretty to paint,” you say, still spinning it around in awe. 

“Yuta put it together himself yesterday, he’s pretty good at arrangements,” the florist beamed.

“What can’t he do?” you scoffed.

“Apparently, open his mouth and say what he needs to say,” Sicheng muttered beside you. Kira elbowed his stomach and he lurched over in pain. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing,” Kira laughed nervously. She worked her way to you and gestured towards the flowers, “It’s yours, on the house.”

You rejected the offer right away. “Oh no, I couldn’t,” is what you reply, attempting to shove the arrangement into her hands. With a kind grin, she persisted for you to take it and just asked you to buy from them the next time you visited. “I’m sure Yuta would love it if you took this one off our hands.”

With a promise, you hesitantly accepted the bouquet. Sicheng was snickering in the background and you had to hold yourself back from whacking him with the flowers. Thinking you’d taken too much of the florist’s time, you quickly said your thanks and headed out the door with a coy Sicheng trailing behind you.

—🌸—

“They’re gone,” Kira yelled towards the back of the shop. Yuta made his way back to his spot at the cash register while wiping at his mouth with his uniform sleeve. He quickly pulled out his art supplies from underneath the counter, setting everything up to resume his painting. Taking a seat on the stool, his body was slumped over his makeshift desk as he messed with his pencils. 

His coworker rolled her eyes at him as she began to work on a bouquet of blue cornflowers and daisies— good fortune and new beginnings. Her nimble hands hastily worked their magic with ease as if she’s done it a million times before. Yuta observed her, quickly sketching her hands at work. 

“You’re ridiculous, I don’t get why you had to hide.” 

“I didn’t want her to see me like this,” Yuta said, his pained eyes covered by the long bangs that drooped down over his sketchbook. 

“Like what?” Her hands went to her hips. “Sick and hopelessly in love?”

“Yeah, let’s put it that way.”

“There’s a solution to this, you know,” Kira pressed with furrowed brows. “You don’t have to keep suffering.”

This. Hanahaki is what she meant— the disease of unrequited love.

“I’m fine, Kira,” Yuta hissed with a bit more annoyance than he intended to. She flinched at the tone but still pushed on when he coughed again. He felt the discomfort of something being lodged in his throat and his body had the urge to hack it out. Suddenly, he was leaning over the counter with cherry blossom petals littering the cash register. 

Yuta practically hacked up a storm, body curling in pain. One hand was clutching his stomach while the other had a death grip on the edge of the counter. The dizziness returned and he felt lightheaded as the retching subsided. A weakness took over his athletic body and Kira rushed to assist him back onto the stool. There was a bottle of soothing eucalyptus oil sitting right on the counter and she scrambled to open it before shoving it under his nose. 

“You’re obviously not fine. You need to go to the hospital to get checked,” she said as Yuta took the small bottle from her grip. He dabbed a couple of drops onto his hands and rubbed it on his nose and throat. “Why won’t you accept any help that’s offered to you at the hospital?”

“I’ve gone through this before, Kira. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sometimes you forget I’ve gone through this, too!” she yelled. “I don’t want you to end up on your deathbed like I was at one point.” 

Yuta couldn’t argue with that. He was hired back when she was in the hospital recovering from the final stage of the dreaded disease. 

“We’re all worried about you here. Mom, Jongin, Mark? And your friends— Sicheng, Ten, and Taeyong? We all hate seeing you like this!” her voice grew louder and louder with each word, causing him to flinch at the shrill tone. Deafening noises plus nausea and headaches never meshed well with him.

“You don’t see how much it hurts seeing someone you care about suffer like this, Yuta. It hurts even more when we can’t do anything to help you go through this.”

Silence filled the room.

“Have you seen Dr. Kim lately?” Dr. Junmyeon Kim was the Hanahaki specialist that Kira recommended. He eased her back into normalcy after her scare.

“I will soon, I promise,” he said through haggard breaths. She guided him through a couple of breathing exercises and it calmed his racing heart down. 

Kira sighed. With a quieter tone, she said, “It’s a shame the world made us experience heartbreak this way, isn’t it?”

Yuta smiled sadly at her— it was a shame.

The front door of the shop opened and the bell rang. They both turned to see Kira’s boyfriend Mark walk in with a cute grin. He clumsily hopped over the counter to plant a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Well, at least you got your happy ending,” he muttered too low for his coworker to hear. 

Yuta knew there was a chance of having it too, he was just too afraid to speak. 

If one were to look at him at that moment, his features hid nothing. Nakamoto Yuta was slowly ripping at the seams with the sakura branches poking their way out of his built figure and although multiple options were given to him, he still felt so unbelievably helpless.

It was the middle of the semester when you caught Yuta wandering the halls of the main art building. A grin found its way to your lips as you saw him with his messenger bag and a tubed container slung over his shoulder. Running to catch up with him, you slipped your arm into his free one. Your classmate yelped at the sudden contact and you let out a loud giggled that echoed in the empty hallway.

You finally felt close enough to initiate contact after sharing supplies with him during one studio session. That being said, it didn’t mean you were comfortable with revealing the feelings you harbored towards him— you wanted to keep that a secret for a little bit longer. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t have classes in here today,” you asked.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Yuta sighed. You felt your heart drop at his words but you played it off with a scrunch of the nose and a teasing tone. 

“Were you expecting someone else, Nakamoto?” you nudged his stomach and he avoided it, already predicting your actions. Yuta held back another series of coughs, quick turning away from you to cough into the handkerchief always kept on hand. He looked in pain as he continued to hack into the small piece of cloth and you brought a comforting hand to rub at his back.

“Every time I see you, you’re coughing,” you frowned. “You really need to get yourself checked, it’s been months.”

“No, no, I promise you I’m fine,” he replied with the shake of the head, his dark hair moving along with him. Even when ruffled and out of sorts, he looked good. He attempted to clear his throat by downing some water. 

Your lips pursed at his words, not satisfied with his dismissive answer. “If you say so. Promise me you’ll see someone if it gets worse though.”

He agreed but you suspected it was to stop you from nagging. “To answer your question before you went all mom on me, I was here to talk to the department about my senior project.”

“Have you decided on your theme for your exhibit yet?” 

Yuta smiled wistfully, “Flowers.” 

“Should’ve known— it’s always flowers with you. It’s like you’re in love with them or something.” 

He let out a scoff at your words. When you shot him a questioning look, he dismissed the act completely. 

Time spent with Yuta always passed so quickly; one moment you were on the top floor of the building and the next, you were already at the bottom of the staircase. Ever the gentleman, he held the front door open for you and you thanked him with a smile. His brown eyes shrunk into little slits and whiskers appeared at the corners as he grinned back with a little chuckle.

How you longed to sketch that image.

A strong breeze blew through, causing a couple of leaves and fallen petals to fly around your figures. You crossed your arms around your front to keep the cold from seeping in and shut your eyes to keep debris out. Peeking at Yuta, you saw him cover his eyes with a calloused hand and he gently pushed you behind him to use his body as a makeshift shield. As soon as the breeze stopped, his grip on your arm loosened but the grip he had on your heart was still as strong as ever.

He whirled around to make sure you were alright and next thing you knew, his hand was lingering above your head. “You have something in your hair, do you want me to take it out?” 

Yuta looked down at you with cautious eyes and you just noticed how close you were. Heat radiated off his body and your cheeks as you nod in approval. One dry hand moved to delicately clutch the side of your head as the other plucked a leaf out of your hair. 

Your breath hitched as his fingers ran against your skin and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. There was a sudden pounding in your ears that matched the drumming rhythm of your heart.

“There,” he whispered as he let you go. With a smile, Yuta added, “good as new and pretty as a picture.” 

“Pretty enough to paint?” you fired back with sarcasm.

“Definitely worthy of being displayed for the world to see,” he winked.

Was he flirting? It seemed like he was. 

Maybe, Sicheng was right— Yuta could have feelings for you. But it could also just be wishful thinking.

Were you flirting? Is this how flirting works? 

“Speaking of displays,” Yuta started nervously as he walked you to your car. He slowed down his walking pace and you easily matched it, your steps moving in time with his. The main walkway on campus was devoid of people, seeing how it was later in the school day. The path from the art building to the lot you parked in was short and you wished there was some way to extend it so you could spend more time with him.

“Will you, uh, come to my show?” he asked, his hand scratching the back of his head. His hair flopped with the wind and his unsure grin made him look so incredibly endearing. “I know it’s still too early to give you a set date but I’d love to see you there.”

“What? Of course I’ll come!” you said, stopping to slap his arm. 

He winced at the contact. “Ow?”

“I would’ve gone even if you didn’t ask me,” you proceeded on the path with a smile. “I have to go and support my friends.”

There was a coughing fit coming from behind you and you whirled around to see Yuta hacking into his handkerchief again. It looked more painful than the last attack he had a few minutes ago. His breathing was shallow and he clutched his chest as the coughs continued. 

“Oh my god, Yuta!” You were pretty sure you heard him gag as you rubbed his back. “Okay, I’m taking you to the hospital. You’re clearly not alright.”

He lifted a hand to tell you to stop. “No, no. I’m fine. I just—I gotta go,” was all he said with his hoarse voice before jolting away.

Staring at his strong back as grew smaller and smaller, you almost missed the fallen piece of cloth on the ground. Keyword: almost.

“Wait, Yuta!” you shouted, bending down to pick it up. “You dropped your hanke—” As soon as you lifted the handkerchief, perfectly preserved cherry blossom petals fell out of its hold. They rained towards the ground, decorating the sidewalk with the prettiest shade of pink.

Yuta was long forgotten. You were too lost in your confusion of the flowers. 

“Cherry blossoms?” you asked yourself. “They’re not in season yet.”

—🌸—

Yuta heard you calling for him but he refused to turn around. He pushed himself to keep running despite the tight pain in his chest. Pulling out his phone, he sent quick text messages to Sicheng and Kira with his location, asking them to stop by and help him. The disorientation hit faster this time, causing him to tumble into a bench. He gripped the iron lining as he hurled and for the first time, it was so painful that it brought tears to his eyes. His mouth trembled as he let out a cry.

Yuta tasted the bit of blood that poured out of his lips. 

Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, Yuta ignored how the crimson stained the fabric. A butter chuckle escaped him. 

“Pink goes good with red,” he whispered to himself as another stinging pain made its way up his body. 

He felt the branches slowly poking his lungs, climbing a path up his chest. It was just as Kira described— it was piercing like a sharp arrow to the heart. The arrow pressed and pressed and pressed until he was exploding with petals, blood, sweat, and tears.  It was aimed to kill. He thought arrows to the heart were supposed to fill him with love, not a heart-wrenching pain that tempted him to rip the beating organ out of his chest.

This was all too much to bear.

The full flowers and the scratching of wood tickling his throat. 

The lack of oxygen and struggle for air.

He felt it all. He wished he didn’t. 

Yuta wished he was one of the people that found their soulmate with that ridiculous red string of fate tied to the end of his pinky. They were blessed with a lifetime of happiness while he was cursed with what felt like an eternity of agony that his weakening body could no longer withstand. 

Yuta knew you didn’t love him but he adored you anyway. 

This wasn’t a shoujo manga, Yuta knew that. This was real life. No one was going to kiss, kiss, fall in love with the blink of an eye.

Picking petals off of flowers wouldn’t solve his problem. He wished it did, though.

If only it was that easy.

The rest of the semester flew by quickly with midterms and mid-semester projects keeping you at bay. You barely saw Yuta, yet alone the rest of your friends, if not for your classes. All of you shared the same appearance: dark circles, eye bags, sunken cheeks, hunched backs, and glazed over eyes. Your group survived the weeks with a crazy amount of caffeine and not enough food.

 With the school year finally over and graduation season starting, that meant one thing for the college of fine arts at your university— exhibitions. The music and dance departments already had their concerts and showcases. Final showings of the theatre department’s newest production just wrapped up yesterday; the only thing left were the senior art exhibits.

Dressed to the nines and not at all like a struggling artist, you paced back and forth at the entrance of the student art gallery with a bouquet of irises in your hand. Sicheng, your emotional support for the day, stood as you walked the same path with annoyance. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint why you felt nervous— it wasn’t even your exhibit, it was Yuta’s. 

Ten and Taeyong wrapped up their exhibits the week prior; Yuta’s was the last one.

“Are you done freaking out? Can we go in now?” Sicheng cocked a brow at you with his phone in hand. “The others are already inside.”

Wringing your hands together, you took in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

Sicheng rolled his eyes before opening the doors to the gallery. Stepping inside, you were immediately welcomed by paper flowers of all sorts hanging from the ceiling and the quiet chatter of the gallery’s visitors. To the right, you saw a sign displaying the exhibit’s name: Efflorescence. A brief description of the exhibit was placed below it and you took the time to read it before stepping further in.

Snapshots of his life told through the appearance and language of flowers.

Ten and Taeyong, your seniors and close friends, were waiting for you off to the side. 

“Sorry for the wait, you guys.”

Sicheng grumbled, “Took her long enough to calm down.”

Ten laughed, “Were you nervous for him? You weren’t like this for our final exhibits.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” Taeyong hushed the other two. Wrapping an arm around you, he pulled you close, “She’s nervous because this is her crush we’re talking about.”

“For heaven’s sake, say that any louder and he’ll hear you!” you screeched. The boys chuckled at your embarrassed state as you went ahead of them, ready to walk your way through the large room. From the corner of your eye, you saw Yuta smiling by the exit, surrounded by people singing praises about his work.

You weren’t in a rush— you wanted to take the time to appreciate every piece before talking to him about why he chose to display each work. Talking to the object of your affection could wait.

The first few paintings were of his childhood and the flowers that accompanied each scene all had similar meanings— innocence, purity, etc. You noticed that most of his paintings were done with watercolor, which made complete sense. 

It seemed like he was always prepared to paint something, brush and paint always at the ready. The genius basically carried his foldable watercolor palette and pad everywhere he went, not wanting to miss an opportunity to paint a beautiful picture if he were to pass by one. That was another thing you admire about him— Nakamoto Yuta saw beauty in everything.

Deeper into the gallery, you found more familiar scenes and faces. There was a landscape of the fine arts department, with daffodil petals scattered across the canvas and it was titled New Beginnings. You passed various portraits of your friends, their beauty rivaling that of their birth flowers that shared the same space. Marveling at how realistic his paintings looked, you made a note in your brain to relay that thought to the artist later. He captured the essence of each person perfectly in a painting, breathing life into it, and you honestly couldn’t understand how one could do that. 

Spotting Kira’s familiar face admiring a painting up ahead, you quickened your pace to catch up to her. Feeling the light tap you placed on her shoulder, she turned around with a surprised look that turned into a genuine smile upon seeing your face. She released her hold on her companion, a cute boy with doe eyes and bright smile, before giving you a hug. 

“You’re here!” she squealed. Taking notice of the flowers in your hand, she winked, “Irises, huh? Nice touch.” 

“I stopped by your shop beforehand looking for you and an older guy wrapped them up for me,” you smiled sheepishly. “Should’ve known you would be here and not working.”

“My brother, Jongin,” Kira said. “And of course, I wouldn't miss Yuta’s exhibit for the world. He’s done a lot for me and my family.” She shared a fond look with the boy next to her and he squeezed her hand in return.

“This is my boyfriend, Mark, by the way,” Kira gestured to the boy next to her. 

“Yo, nice to meet you, dude,” Mark extended his arm out towards you and you gladly took in your hands to give it a shake. You laughed at his casual greeting; it was charming. 

“Back at you, dude,” you giggled back. 

Turning to take a peek at the picture they were admiring, you couldn’t help but break out into a wide grin. It was the two of them with the flower shop as their background. Yuta had painted Kira seated on top on the counter, eyes closed with glee and hands clutching a small bouquet of blue flowers. Mark, on the other hand, leaned towards her with fingers gripping the table top and looking at her with a loving smile. 

You could feel the love pouring out of it and it warmed your lonely heart. “Wow,” you whispered.

Kira leaned her head on Mark’s shoulder and he placed a tiny kiss to her temple. “I’m buying it from him once this is all over,” she said.

Knowing each flower played a part in Yuta’s paintings, you tried to distinguish what flowers she clutched in her hand. “They’re cornflowers,” Mark answered the question that lingered in your head.

“Why cornflowers?”

“Oh those things put us through a lot— a little pain sprinkled in with their beauty,” Kira smiled, leaving Mark to chuckle lovingly at her comment. It felt like a secret between the two of them and you were invading in their space. “They were what got us together in the first place.”

Her  sentence made you cock a brow. How could flowers be painful? That was awfully cryptic, even a little unsettling but it sounded a little familiar to you; it was on the tip of your tongue. 

“Yeah, they’re pretty special,” the boy grinned, gaze still glued to the person wrapped under his arm. “Cornflowers are my favorite.”

“They’re starting to become one of mine, too,” she returned the look. 

Mark’s bright brown eyes were shining with the love you wish someone had for you. It was a sweet sight, to see such a young couple in love. A part of you was jealous that they found a love like that so early in their lives while you pined after an artist that was so infatuated with flowers and their meanings. 

Wanting to leave them in their moment, you excused yourself with a smile. There were only four paintings left to see.

The first was a design you recognized. It was a more detailed painting of the sketch you had seen Yuta draw on the first day of the semester. A girl was seated on the grass, leaning her back on a trunk of a cherry blossom tree. Her hands were outstretched to the sky, trying to catch the falling petals in her hand. Stealing a glance at the title, Yuta titled the piece, Wishful Thinking. 

Moving to the next piece, it was a close up of Yuta’s hands. His palms were pressed together, cupping cherry blossoms in his hand. Petals and full flowers were scattered around the canvas, filling out all the empty spaces. The bright pink stood out against the color of his skin. You admired the amount of detail this piece had— the wrinkles on his skin, the gradient found on the petals. It held your interest, leaving you to wonder what this piece titled Inside meant to him. 

Yuta’s self-portrait was showstopping. He borrowed the flower shop’s name, calling this piece For You in Full Bloom. The painting brilliantly depicted him in all white, his eyes closed with pain and hands clutching at his throat. The blossoms were spilling out of his mouth, the petals tainted with a blood red. You could feel the sadness and the suffering emitting from the picture and it pained you to see such a vulnerable depiction of him. 

Putting two and two together, you figured it out. 

Hanahaki. You had read about the disease before, one of the artists you admired had it. They created art as a way to tell their story. It was their escape from the suffering, a way to ease their pain, and the one course of action they took to be remembered after their death.

The only piece of information you lacked was who made him tolerate such pain.

Skipping the last painting of the exhibit, you made your way through the crowd to find Yuta. He stood at the end with a polite smile, thanking everyone who attended his exhibit. Onlookers were showering him with compliments, leaving you to wait until the small crowd cleared out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” you breathed out with a concerned look. You couldn’t even spit out the name of the disease.

His smile widened into a genuine one, eyes gone soft at the sight of you. “You made it.”

Spotting the irises in your hand, he gestured towards the bouquet. “Are those for me?”

Still in shock that the person you were in love with was suffering all this time, you handed them to him without a word.

“Irises mean ‘congratulations,’ nice choice,” he laughed, trying to steer the topic away from his illness.

“Who?” you asked. “Who is it?”

Cocking his head, he answered you with another question. “You didn’t see the last one, did you?”

Shaking your head negatively, Yuta took you by the hand and the feeling made fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart was beating rapidly as he led you a few steps away. Nodding his head towards the last frame, he whispered, “Take a look.��� 

You felt his hand break out into a sweat and you wondered why this last one made him so nervous. Glancing at the title, you read the words Love Me Now. 

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself to see the person who had a hold on Yuta’s heart. Unlike him, you thought yourself strong enough to take the heartbreak— after all, you weren’t the one with flowers blooming inside you. Shifting your eyes over, you gasped as soon as you spotted whose face was framed on the wall. 

Staring back at you was the most beautiful painting of yourself. It was a you that you had never seen before. He painted you in flourishing pastels to match the happy look on your face. He captured your smile lines, the curve of your eyes, and the scrunch of your nose in such detail; it amazed you beyond belief. 

There was movement in your hair, the strands swaying in the wind along with the petals behind you. Your hands held a branch of your favorite flowers, half of them covering part of your face.

Captivated by seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes, you couldn’t tear your gaze away.

“Your smile makes flowers grow in my chest,” Yuta’s voice came from your side. You turned to see him wear a strained smile. Yuta’s huge eyes that were usually filled with kindness were taken over by something else— pain. 

There was pain in his words and you hear the ache in his voice. His tone is hoarse, like his throat is unbelievably dry or irritated. 

“I— I don’t know what to say.” 

Everything was extremely overwhelming. 

He shook his head to tell you that it was okay; he just needed to get the words off his chest. “It’s so beautiful and enchanting and it makes my heart clench and flowers take over my lungs.”

“Cherry blossoms,” you found yourself saying. You couldn’t believe this was happening. There were words you wanted to say but you were struggling to find them.

“Sakura,” he repeated in his native language.

“My favorite flowers.”

“Your favorite flowers.” 

“You were never in love with flowers,” you stated, still in a state of shock. 

Yuta released this low, almost bitter sounding chuckle that comes from deep within his chest. “Never.”

“Then, you’re in love with—”

“You.”

“—me.”

Just like the artist you admired, Yuta painted his way through his pain of loving you. 

Nakamoto Yuta felt like he had been in love with you for the longest time. He had loved you before he could even muster the guts to let you know it, to invite you to this exhibit that displayed art dedicated to you.

He really hoped that you would show so he could take the chance to confess. Sure, you had promised but sometimes, people never intended to keep them. If he didn’t get it off his chest, he would never be able to breathe and Yuta desperately wanted to.

Yuta wanted to fill his lungs with breaths of fresh air and just breathe you in. That was all he longed for. 

“Oh,” was all you could breathe out.

“It’s okay that you don’t feel the same,” Yuta tried to comfort you, getting the wrong idea from your lack of words. “I just needed to let you know.”

The sharpening ache that became so familiar to him was building up in his chest again, preparing him for the worst. Yuta swallowed thickly, already feeling the petals working their way to his mouth. His airways began restricting, his breaths growing more haggard by the second. He had so many things to say and he was determined to let it out before the petals escaped. The words spilled out his mouth, his lips running like a motor, “I used to be afraid of being in love and being happy with a person that I loved because it hurts.”

“Yuta—”

He stopped you with a lifted palm. 

“Happiness never lasted with me, the flowers always ripped it away,” he explained, his trembling eyes focusing on your portrait and not the real person beside him. 

“But then I met you and felt things I have never experienced before. So, I pushed my way through the pain just to be with you because I felt like I reached for the stars and touched the sky when we were together.”

His words brought tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe someone would sit through the pain just to spend time with you nor thought you were worth it but here Yuta was, proving you wrong.

“There were times I wanted to beg you to love me, just so the hurting and the bleeding—just everything— could stop but I was too much of a coward and it led me to this.”

Here he was, pouring his heart out to you with his images and words, and you couldn’t let out a single noise. You forced yourself to move forward, to slip your hand into his. The sensation of your fingers intertwining with his brought Yuta out of his daze to look at you.

“Yuta,” you said with trembling lips. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault,” he replied with a sullen tone. You squeezed his palm and he gave you a light one in return. “If I don’t get this off my chest now, I’ll never be able to breathe and I really want to.”

“There’s no reason for you to lose your breath over me.” A sniffle escaped you and Yuta turned to see you crying. He bent down to wipe your tears away, his finger swiping against your skin ever so gently. 

“Why are you crying?” 

“Because you suffered because of me and you didn’t have to,” you shot back with a whimper.

“You couldn’t have known, it’s okay,” he tried to reassure you.

“No, no,” you interrupted him to his confusion. “It’s not that.”

Your voice was so soft under your quivers, he could barely hear you over the loud chattering of the other guests in the room. Yuta guided you just outside his exhibit to a bench and dried your eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. 

“What’s wrong?”

Yuta’s question made you laugh through your tears and at all the time wasted. He had been in pain for so long because he was yearning for you just as you were for him. The mutual yet silent pining took you down this route and it could have been avoided if you had just stopped being a coward and spoken up like Sicheng pushed you to.

“There’s nothing wrong,” you said with the dismissing wave. You willed yourself to look him in the eyes and bring a hand to his cheek. “It’s just that I think I’ve been in love with you as long as you have been in love with me.”

Your confession caused him to freeze in his seat. His brown eyes were blown out wide and mouth dropping in shock. Giggling as more tears fell, you quickly slide the hand cupping his cheek down to his jaw to shut his mouth closed. Running a thumb against his lips, you felt his pulse quickening at your touch. 

“You’re in love with me?” he asked, voice as gentle as the breeze. There was uncertainty and disbelief behind it. Yuta wanted to hear you say it again.

—🌸—

“I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” Your earnest words were music to his ears. 

He felt this comforting rush take over this body and it sent tingles down his spine, traveling all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. Your confession worked like magic, spelling him with this high that made him soar to the skies. 

Yuta thought you were a witch, entrancing him with a love charm so strong that it brought instant relief to his pain. His heart was trying to fight its way out of his chest and the ache of his airways dulled. The muscle was pounding so loudly against his ribcage, he could hear it in his ears, and he swore you could hear it too. 

His lips upturned into the biggest grin, he felt like his cheeks were about to burst. 

Was this how a requited love felt? If it was, he never wanted to go without it again. 

Yuta rushed to pull you in his arms and sighed when you nuzzled your head into his neck. He shivered when he felt them whisper the three words he longed to hear into his skin. His body shook with laughter as he placed a lingering kiss at the crown of your head, reveling at the feeling of you encased in his hold. 

You tried to fight your way out of his grip but he only tightened his arms, not wanting to let you go. The action left you giggling into his neck, causing him to squirm until his hold loosened. Your hands trailed their way from his waist up to cup his face and suddenly, his eyes were locked onto yours. Just as you were getting lost in the deep sea of brown, his gaze flickered to your lips before looking back at you. His lips quirked up as you did the same. 

He felt your breath hitch as he leaned in to slot his lips against yours and the overwhelming rush returned. It seemed like his heart was racing against time, beating erratically as you kissed him so tenderly. Your lips were so soft and they tasted like the vanilla flavoring of your color, leaving him to chase after you every time you pulled away for a breath. 

Yuta fought the strain in his airways as he pursued your lips again and again, loving the way you felt and tasted. He picked up the smell of your cherry blossom shampoo and laughed into the kiss. The feeling of having you was so addicting— your love was his drug and he was forever hooked on you. He would devote himself to nothing else but you.

The sensation of Yuta kissing you and smiling against your lips sent you into overdrive. There were butterflies in your stomach, fireworks going off in your head, tingles down your spine and you loved it all. 

In the past, you only noticed Nakamoto Yuta’s undying love and admiration for flowers but this was the first time you finally noticed his love for you and it was nothing short of wonderful. 

It was the start of something new. 

🌸 author’s note— that’s it! it came out a bit more angst than i intended, definitely lacked the fluff i was expecting but i’m still satisfied with the ending uwu  i loved writing my little markie and kira in the fic, i’ve missed them! but yes!! that’s the end of my little bday present to myself! i hope y’all loved it! please leave some feedback; i would love to hear what you thought of it!! i think i literally fell in love with yuta while writing this.

🌸 taglist— @danishmiilk​ @hyunjins--laugh​ @littleflowercrown13​ @orange-nimon-cross​ @radiorenjun​ @ncteaxhoe​ @chancrispy​

[kinkyjaems]

Officer Johnny

Word count: 4.9K

johnny x fem!reader (feat. taeyong & doyoung)

Includes: Smut, a bit of fluff I guess, him praising you

You're sitting at your desk as always. Answering phone calls, reading and signing papers, the endless click of your computer mouse. Nothing interesting has happened. Your life is a bore. You work in a police station but you ran charge of going through cases and catching all the bad guys.

You work in a room full of men who you're allowed to boss around. One of them being Johnny Suh. The flirtatious cop that you know I strong to get in your pants. Although he’s not one of those guys in a pussy drought, no, he’s a really sweet guy your glad to have around not only at work but outside of work too.

Taeyong walks over to your desk slapping a case folder on your table. “We have a case” He huffs, clearly tired. “Johnny, Doyoung, come over here” As soon as the two males reach over to your desk, Taeyong starts explaining the case. “Wen Junhui, although is Chinese, owns the biggest drug trade in Korea. He’s here in Seoul right now but will later make his way to different parts of the country for his business. The department has been getting information on him for over a year now and now that we’ve finally found his whereabouts, we must catch him because not only is he recklessly selling drugs, he’s killing innocent people.” Taeyong starts showing you all pictures of Jun and you must say he’s a very handsome guy but you know his ass should be in jail for the better.

“Now,” Taeyong starts again. “He’s not in Seoul for much longer, he’s only here for a little get-together with some of the people he works with and others who’s are interested in buying” Taeyong places a huge duffle bag on the tableland unzips it to show its glory. There were stacks over stacks in that bag. All three of your mouths open in shock. “We're gonna use this money to pretend like we're there to buy drugs” He explains. “Why can't we just enter the get together without the money?” Doyoung asks. “Well, it's a little suspicious if we go in there without a purpose since we're not acquaintances with Jun so we must act like we want to buy his produce” Taeyong looks at you and Johnny. “And by we, I mean you two” he points at you both with his flat smile.

You two look at each other and back at Taeyong. “I thought we were all going together,” You thought. “Again, it might look a little suspicious, plus you two should go as a couple” You agree, wanting to help out. Your fake names are Naeun and Minhyuck. “Alright, so the party is tomorrow in the afternoon so you two should be ready to go”. 

You head home after a long day of planning. You were nervous about tomorrow. Being in a house full of ruthless gangsters who won’t hesitate to pull a gun to your head and shoot you. This was risky and there’s no denying it but your glad you weren’t doing this alone and felt a lot safer having Johnny around with you.

You plop onto your bed letting out a large huff as your eyes start to fall shut. Your eyes fly open as your phone starts to ring. Its Johnny. “Hello?” You answer the phone. “Hey, baby, what’s up?”

You can tell he was smiling through the phone. “Baby?” You laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “From tomorrow onwards, me and you are gonna be a thing and we need to get into it” You furrow your brows at his choice of words. “Onwards,” You ask. “You never knows what's gonna happen” He starts. “You need to expect the unexpected” He explains. “Whatever makes you sleep at night, babe” You tease and he laughs. “What are we gonna b wearing tomorrow by the way?” You ask. “I've got nothing in my closet” You not the type of person to go to parties, hence why there’s not much party clothing in your closet. “Taeyong said they already have outfits at the department so don’t worry about it. Sleep well tonight okay? We have a big day tomorrow.” You wish him goodnight and hang up the phone, instantly falling asleep.

You arrive at the station making your way to your office desk. You can feel your heart banging against your chest. You see your best friend Karina holding a beautiful black dress in her hands and walking over to you. “Are you ready?” She asks. “Yes,” You replied, not knowing if you were lying or not. “I'll leave you to get ready but call me when your done” Tayeong exits the office with Doyoung by his side. DDDD

You hear a door open and look to the side. Johnny enters the room, wearing a black on black suit that looks very expensive. A silver watch on his right hand with an ocean blue center and ring that were divided equally on each hand. He looked beautiful. “You okay, babe?” He smirked. “BABE?!” Karina squealed which made you jump. “He’s just trying to get into character” You laughed. “This wasn’t part of me getting into character” He placed his hands in his pockets. “Get ready and ill be with Taeyong” He exits the room and you turn to Karina who is now shaking the shit out of you.

“HE LIKES YOU” She squeals. “You need to start acting like a woman. Dressing up, wearing makeup.” She lectures you. “I'm not gonna try to look good just for some guy okay? We're just gonna finish with this little mission and get back to work” The big smile that was once plastered on her face, has now disappeared. “Ugh, fine. But if you sleep with him you better tell me” You playfully slap her arm and laugh together.

Karina does the finishing touches of your makeup and steps back to get a better view of you. “I can't believe it” Her hands covered her mouth and she runs to hug you. “You look so good,” she says. “Thank you” You smile. You have to say, Karina did an amazing job with the makeup. You make your way over to Taeyong who was patiently waiting for you, but no sign of Johnny. “Wheres Johnny?” You ask. “Wow,” You look over behind you and see Johnny eyeing you up and down. You were wearing a black silk dress with a big slit in the front, accompanied by a very light smokey eye and rose-colored lipstick. “You look great” You two are unable to get your eyes off each other.

You hear Taeyong grunt in the background and both your attentions are now on him. “Shall we go?” Taeyong leads the way into the garage where his car is parked. Johnny sat in the front while you sat in the passenger seat along with the bag of cash and Taeyong starts the car and heads off. You were quite the whole ride, Tayeong and Johnny conversing a little but it wasn’t something you were interested in doing in.

You were looking out the window until you felt a pair of eyes on you. You turn to see Johnny looking at you and rain your brows in confusion. “Oh, um I just wanted to tell you the plan but I guess I got carried away” Your face starts you heating up and you curse your pale skin. “Okay, so when we walk in we need to find Jun. Once we do I'm gonna start off by asking him about his drugs and seeming interested in them. While in a conversation, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom when actually you need to find some documents that have information on where he’s gonna be land tomorrow. Got it?” He asks. “Got it” You reply.

You're parked in front of the mansion you have to say it was beautiful. It was packed with people from different parts of the world. The modern house was white and lined with gold details, making it catch your eyes instantly. Expensive cars were parked outside and giant window panes lines across the front.

“I'll be waiting out here. Once you get the info, you come straight back here” Taeyong explains. You both exit the car together walking over to two big males standing by the gate. “May I help you?” One of them asks. “My name is Minhyuck and were here to attend” Johnny remarks confidently. “What business do you have here and who is she” The other one points at you. “This is my girlfriend Naeun and we’re here to invest”. “With what money?” He asks. Johnny lifts up the big duffle bag he has and unzips it for them to see. They nod their head and opened the gates for you both.

You both look at each other before parting ways. You were in charge of looking outside while Johnny looked inside. You reach the part of the garden when most of the party is taking place. People were dancing and bumping into one another. You stand by the drink table holding your head high for a man named Wen Junhui. Before you knew it. You felt someone grab your hips and pull you towards them. “Hello~ beautiful” This man was clearing drunk. His breath smelt of strong rotting vodka. “Get off of me” You use your hands to push him away, which only made him angry. “Your gonna be mine today” He leans in to kiss you until he’s interrupted by a hand that punches him across the face.

Johnny pulls you behind him. “Get the fuck off of her you filthy bastard” His eyes wear dark with anger. You’ve never seen Johnny like this. “Johnny-“ You were interrupted by a voice calling you and Johnny. “Minhyuck and Naeun!” The man shouting was the man known as Wen Junhui. He looks at you with welcoming smiles and calls you over to sit at the table. Johnny obeys and walks over. You look down to take a seat but then feel an arm slither and an arm on your waist pulling you down onto Johnny's lap. You were a bit taken back knew you had to stay in character.

“So” Jun starts “I heard you wanted to buy some stuff of me. I got the best in the city, all you want”. “I am very interested in your products as I’ve heard it's the best quality, Mr. Wen” Johnny smiles at Jun. As they talk you start to feel something underneath you poking your ass and it's not along time before you realize it's Johnny's needy bulge. You ignore it and excuse yourself for the bathroom.

You enter the house. It was covered in the red carpet all the up until the two-way shimmering stairs. “Wow” You gasp. You look around to make sure there aren’t any guards around to catch you. Once you see the coast is clear, you quickly head up the stairs trying to make less sound as possible with your heels. “Brown door with a golden knob” You whisper to yourself. You move around the mansion trying not to be too loud as your heels lightly clack.

You finally found what you looking for, twisting the swinging golden knob allowing you to enter. You were presented into a room with multiple file cabinets. “Investment, partnership, blacklist, travel plans” You read all the labels trying to find the right one. You open the drawer marked ‘Travel plans’ and scanned the papers looking for destinations. “Oh dear,” You hear a familiar voice and turn around to see Jun holding Johnny tightly around his arm, giving you an evil smile. Two big men as backup behind him.

You still have the important file clutched in your hand. “You know what happens to people who try to snake their way around me” He lifts up his gun to point your face and you look at Johnny in panic. Before you knew it, Johnny lifted his elbow up and knocked Jun on the face, knocking the gun out of his hand. The big men in the back going for Johnny as he tries to fight him off with his back to you. Jun picks up his gun to shoot Johnny, when you kick his back, making sure to point your bottoms heels at him.

He looks at you in anger and takes a shot at your legs, barely missing as the bullet goes through your dress. You look down in shock. “DID YOU JUST SHOOT MY DRESS?!” Anger started filling you up all because he ruined this beautiful silk dress. You take off your heels and start smacking him on the face.

“Don’t” smack “fucking” smack “ruin” smack “my” smack “dress”. You now straddled on him repeatedly hitting him with your heel. You bring your hands down to his nipples, strongly twisting them and he shouts in pain. “Don’t you dare touch a woman!” You continue beating your fists on his chest until you feel a pair of hands slither around your waist lifting you up and over their shoulder. 

Johnny runs out with your over your back. You see them chase after you and use this opportunity to take one of your heels that was once hugging your feet, and throw it at the men. Once Johnny is outside the mansion, he places you back on the floor, grabs your arm, and pulls you into the car where Taeyong was patiently waiting.

You quickly drive off and see a black van full of men chase after your vehicle. Taeyong opens your sunroof and hands you a gun. “Use this to get rid of them” He handed you a handgun and you stand up so your upper body is out of the far.

Not wanting to kill anyone, you aim for the two front wheels while being careful of any bullets that might be coming your way. The black van gets slower and slower until it's a little black dot in the distance. You lift your hand over your head to form a heart. Johnny and Taeyong hysterically laughing at your gesture.

You sit back down and a loud huff escapes your mouth. “Did you get the file?” ask Taeyong. You reach into the pockets of your once beautiful dress that now has a hole in it and pull out a sheet. “Got it” you answer. “Yeahhh” Johnny claps. “Dude, she was wrecking that Jun guy. She used her heels as a weapon, I’ve never been so scared” He giggles. “This is why you shouldn’t mess with me” You point at your feet that’s missing one heel.

“So, where his next destination?” Tayeong asks. “He’s gonna be in Busan tomorrow, it says here he’s there for a meeting” You explain. “Alright great, ill make sure a hotel is booked.” He replies. “Separate rooms” You point out. “Oh come on babe, relax a little and share a room with me” Johnny wines, pouting his lips at you and you give him a cold stare as he looks away.

You enter your shared office getting ready to change as you pick up your clothes and head to the bathroom while Johnny just changes outside. You say your goodbyes and exit the department, waiting outside looking frustrated while trying to get a taxi. “Do you want a ride” you turn to see Johnny with a warm smile? “Oh, N-no it's okay. I don’t wanna trouble you” You kindly define his offer. “You're not troubling me” He replies. “Without your amazing fighting skills, we wouldn't have gotten the destination file” You lightly smack his chest and take up his offer.

The whole car ride to your house was quiet until Johnny breaks the silence. “You know” Johnny starts. “I know this is a bad time to tell you this but lately I've been thinking about how much I wanna take you out.” He looks at you nervously. “So.. when all of this is over, do you mind if I do?” You look at him and you smile from how nervous and cute he was. You don’t usually see Johnny like this. He’s usually so confident with everything he says. “Id love to” You smile at him.

You once again say your goodbyes and head inside going straight for the bathroom where you wash off your makeup and dress into some comfy pajamas. You get your suitcase out of your cabinet, placing some essentials in before you go to bed, ready for the next day. You eat breakfast in bed while watching your favorite show when you then get interrupted by a text from Taeyong.

Taeyong: Hey, are you ready?

You: Yeah. I'm gonna head out to the office soon.

Taeyong: Instead of the office, come to the train station where I and Johnny are waiting

You: Okk, Ill be there

You get your suitcase and head out, taking a taxi to the subway station. You arrived at the station and greet them both. You stand infant of the waiting train as Taeyong explains where you’ll be staying and other important information for your stay at Busan.

You and Johnny enter the train and took a seat. Johnny helped place both your luggage in the overhead stowage and took a seat next to you. It was a 2-hour train ride to Busan. You lay your head back against the seat as the train starts moving. “Hey, I have a question” Johnny looks at you. “Why not you wanna share a room with me?” He asks. “Is it because you wouldn’t know how to stop yourself?” He smirks and you smack his chest. “No,” You say. “I think you won’t be the one to stop yourself”. Johnny shrugs his shoulders. “You're not wrong” He leans slowly. “Hello, would you like something to drink” The attendant interrupts? “No thank you. You?” He turns to look at you. “I'm good, thank you” You answer with a smile.

You have an hour left of the train and you look vide bialy tired from staying in the same place. Johnny pats his shoulder, letting you use it as a headrest. You rest your head comfortably on his shoulder, slowly dosing off. He brings his arm over your shoulder and rests his head onto yours.

You finally arrive in Busan. Johnny nudges you lightly to wake you up and exit the train. You both wait outside the Busan train station for your ride. “Still tired” Johnny laughs and you hum in response with your eyes half-open. He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you while you rest your arms around his waist as support.

The car finally arrives and takes you to your hotel. You exit the car looking at the place as Johnny helps take out the luggage. “Are you sure this is the right place?” You ask Johnny. You were standing outside a small motel. Johnny stands next to you looking up at the structure in front of you. “I guess?” He replies. “Let's got check out our rooms”.

You two walked inside a were welcomed by an old lady. You politely greet her and check-in. “Okay, here is your key for room 24” She smiles as she places one key in Johnny's hand. “One room?” You ask. “I think we booked two”. “Unfortunately we don’t have another room available” She apologizes. “If you want we can-“ “It's okay, we’ll take the room” You smile, not wanting to trouble the lady. 

You walk into your room. The walls were painted a beige color. As you walk in you see a bed to the right, facing you, and a small TV opposite the mattress.

The station was so busy that it was already 6 PM. You changed into a hoodie and shorts before plopping yourself on the bed, thinking about how you gonna sleep tonight. As you were lost in thought, Johnny exits the bathroom wearing a plain black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, with his bulge being very obvious. How could someone look so good in something so plain simple? You thought. “What do you wanna do to pass the time?” You ask. “Do you wanna check out what movies they have on the TV?” You nod your head at him in approval.

You sit up at the back of the bed giving room for Johnny to sit next to you. Johnny starts scrolling through the different genres of movies, listing them as he goes. “Horror, romance, comedy, porn-“ He looks at you with begging eyes and you shake your head in disapproval. “How about a horror movie?” You suggest. Johnny nods and finds a movie that appeared to be 2 hours long.

It's about 7 PM and your 1 hour into the movie. You feel a pair of eyes on you and turn to look at Johnny. “What?” You quietly ask. He starts to realize he’s staring at you and stress. “Oh um, I-I was just um wondering if you were cold” He makes up an excuse and you laugh knowing very well that wasn’t it.

“Why are you laugh,” He asks with a little smile. “Nothing. It's just cute how you made an excuse to ask if I was cold when you were staring at me” You look at him to see he looks almost panicked. “N-no,” He says. “You even stuttering” You point out. “N-no I'm not” You laugh at him. He straightens his posture. “You think id be staring at you because of how beautiful you look in just a hoodie and shorts. How I can even focus on the movie because I can’t take my eyes off you. How I want to kiss your lips so bad and cherish your body forever. 

The smile that was once on both your face is now gone. Johnny leans in closer to the point where you can smell his fresh laundry detergent. Your lips meet together and move in harmony. He brushed your hair out of the way with his hand and places it on your cheek. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip, asking for permission to enter. You grant him permission by opening your mouth wider and your tongues fight each other for dominance as he takes the lead. “A little aggressive aren’t you?” He smiles again your kiss.

You slither your hands around his neck to get a better angle to dominate him but he reaches his hands behind you, lightly tugging your hair as a small moan leaves your lips and your head leans back. He smirks at the sound and starts trailing wet kisses up and down your neck until you were interrupted by a phone call from Taeyong.

He stops what he’s doing as he goes to answer the phone and you grunt in annoyance. “Hello?” He answers the phone. “Yeah we arrived, we’re just watching a movie to pass the time. Yeah okay, sounds good. Bye,” He hangs up the phone and turns to you. “We should go to bed. We need to wake up pretty early tomorrow” You felt kind of sad but you had a job and needed good sleep in order to do your best.

You get under the blanket and watch as Johnny goes to the couch, using an extra pillow and blanket to sleep for the night. The room is dark and you couldn’t help but think about how you wanted Johnny's arms wrapped around you as you slept, or even better, his lips all over you.

“Johnny” You call out. “Yeah” He replies and you sit up. “Do you mind if you sleep next to me tonight?” You see a black figure sit up on the couch, not hesitating to comb over and climb in bed next to you. “Miss me?” He teases you. “Yes,” You reply as you attach your lips to his. He adjusted quickly and kiss you back. This time even most passionately. He pushes you down so you're underneath him and he’s hovering on top of you with his hands roaming freely on your body.

Your hook your arms over this neck and let your fingers tangle around his hair. You bring one hand down to the hem of his shirt and lightly tug at it, gesturing for his to take it off. He sits up on top of you and brings his t-shirt over your head. You look at his toned body while placing air two hands on his shoulder and slowly feeling down his chest. He then roves your hoodie, leaving you only in your bra. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful” He pants, diving back into your mouth before moving to your neck.

After placing kisses cross your neck, he starts sucking on your skin like honey, making sure to leave marks with not one place untouched. He moves down placing kisses down your chest and onto your stomach until he reaches your pants. He looks up at you for permission to remove it and you nod, taking your bra off too. He pulls your pants to the side and teasingly breathes on it making your head go back.

He reaches his left hand over to your breasts, slowly massaging them before gliding his tongue across your fold. You let out a soft moan as Johnny repeats this gesture with his tongue. He starts sucking on your clit slowly and softly making sure to get every inch before sliding a finger in there and gently thrusting it in and out.

You start to lose your patience as you try to move your hand down to your slit but get stopped by Johnny's big hand. He places your hand to the side and thrust his finger and faster while flicking his tongue on your wet slit at an exceptional speed.

Your back arches in pleasure and you start to close the gap between your legs until Johnny pushes them open and digs his tongue inside or you even harder, which causes you to moans out his name uncontrollably loud. “I'm about to cum” You say in between moans.

Johnny takes this as an opportunity to place his pointer and middle finger inside of you, quickly thrusting until you come all over his face. He uses his tongue to clean you as if your juices were his treasure. He sits up and looks at you before crawling his way closer to your face. You can see your glimmering juices on his face as he uses his tongue going in a circle, getting it all off “You taste so good, baby”.

He re-attaches his lips onto you. You didn't care that he just ate you out and now his tongue is in your mouth. He slips out of his sweatpants and reveals his giant cock. He stands at the edge of the bed before you come over to replace his hands with yours. “Spit on it” He demands, and you obey spitting on his tip before spreading it across his whole length.

You started by tracing circles with your tongue at the top before slowly doing down on him until you manage to take all of him in. You use your free hand to massage his balls earning a low moan from him. Every time you reach the tip, you make sure to swirl your tongue around the top before going back down to the base.

He tangles his hand in your hair and starts taking the lead, going slow at intros but then quacking his pace. You start to deep throat him as he praises you with every move. “Fuck, your os good” he bites his lips. “Look at me” You look up at him and his hands go faster. You realize he likes it when you look at him as he fucks your mouth. 

Tears start welling up in your eyes and you feel his cock twitching inside of your mouth as his hands get weaker. You give him a hand by robbing your head up and down until you feel a warm sensation fill your mouth and his head leans back. You swallow every last drop of him and he brings his hands on your neck, lightly pulling you up to kiss you. “Can you lay down for me princes?” He asks and you do exactly that.

He quickly grabs a condom from the suitcase and glides it across his cock. He sits in front of you, pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, and slowly enters your heated core, earning a moan from boh of you.

He adjusts himself and starts thrusting in and out of you, again, starting off slow but then picking up his pace. The room is filling with loud moans and the sound of your skin slapping together. He reaches over to your breasts slowly massaging them one by one before smacking your ass as he cusses loudly. “Say my name” He speaks, in between shaky breathes. “J-Johnny, fuck” You moan out loud. 

“Johnny, I'm close” You let him know, and make sure he’s balls deep instead of your, earring a scream of pleasure from you. You feel him twitch inside of you as come all over his length, not long before he finishes too. You're both panting heavily as you try to regain your energy. He stands up taking the condom off before throwing it in the nearby bin. 

He cleans you up first, making sure your okay and comfortable, before helping himself. He helps you to his t-shirt that he was previously wearing and throw on his sweatpants, laying nectar you and pulling you in his arms. “You were so good,” He says and you giggle. “I'm happy there weren’t any other rooms available” You reply and he kisses you once more before you both fall asleep, ready for tomorrow morning.

Thank you for whoever suggested this story! I couldn't create a small short story so I decided to do this- @_@ 

[levis-little-nuggie]

(SFW) prompt 84: “Leave me alone.” “I brought cookies.” “… fine, come in.” with Leviathan and f!mc

Hey nonny! For this prompt, I immediately knew how to start this and I knew it was going to be "easy" for me to write it but it took me... awhile... to finally sit down and write this.

Thank you so much for the request, I hope you enjoy this at least half as much as I did writing it 💜💜

Inspired by this rolling pin

SFW, female MC, fluffy with a dash of angst, no warnings (but can be added if requested)

Cookies for the Otaku

The timer rang and she picked herself off the counter. Sliding on the oven mitts, MC opened the oven, pulled out the tray, closed the oven, and turned off the timer. The kitchen resumed its relative silence as she inspected the baked cookies. She'd made enough, she hoped, for Beel and the other brothers, but this last batch was special.

Resisting the urge to sigh again, MC waited a few minutes before removing the cookies from the pan to let them rest on the wire cooling rack. What better way to cheer up the otaku than with her signature snickerdoodle cookies imprinted with Ruri-chan and Azuki-tan designs from the limited edition "Baking With Ruri-chan Rolling Pin" she'd bought specifically to make for Ruri-chan's number one fan.

She'd overheard the brothers this morning teasing the third-born over a picture he'd posted of the two of them from Christmas he'd tagged with #ChristmasDate and #WithMyBeloved. Mammon had started the fuss showing it to everyone and soon after, the brothers had followed suit. They filled the halls with their squawking and opinions saying things like "you wish she saw you more than a friend," and comparing what they saw as their redeeming qualities with his "flaws."

Before MC even had a chance to step in, Lucifer intervened. Much to her disdain, the eldest criticized Leviathan's decision to post the picture at all, saying he'd had the intention to cause a ruckus. MC felt Leviathan's growl of frustration vibrate the air around her before he stormed back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Distracted during her classes, MC sent Levi a few messages throughout the day, trying to reach him through a few of his social media accounts but his status was always unavailable or offline compared to the almost permanent active/online status.

Plating up the special cookies made just for him, MC set off down the hall not knowing what state he'd be in but wanting to help him any way she could. She knocked on the door, but only silence responded. Knocking a little louder resulted in the same silence. Starting to worry, MC jiggled the locked door handle and knocked louder; he would be able to at least feel the vibrations if he was in the aquarium.

"Go away." His voice was rough, not necessarily loud but it was low and threatening reminding her of a rattlesnake.

"Levi? It's me, I-"

"Leave me alone." He cut her off and she heard a splash of water followed by soft footsteps. His voice, no longer filled with venom, sounded defeated and sad.

"I brought cookies. Snickerdoodle? Said to hold magical powers that can turn any grumpy guppy into a silly sea turtle..." Silence stretched out the seconds and her hope gradually deflated until she'd heard him sigh and a rustle behind the door. The lock clicked soon after, the door opening barely a sliver.

"...fine. Come in." Usually he'd at least smile, tease her for using such childish alliterations when she'd attempted to cheer him up in the past. Levi's deadpan tone crawled under her skin uncomfortably but she reached out to open the door, pulling it closed behind her and locking it as he had done previously.

MC's eyes followed the trail of puddles decorating the floor around the room before her gaze landed on the culprit. Levi had fallen back in his bathtub bed, legs dangling over the edge as his computer's screensaver cast an unsettling glow in the room.

Walking over to his desk to set down the plate of cookies, MC moved the mouse slightly causing the screen flicker to life; she wasn't interested with what was on the screen so much as the default screensaver had been silently mocking her.

MC took a cookie from the plate and placed it in her mouth, moving to stand between his legs. She held her hand out expectantly, waiting for the third-born to take it and let her pull him up. Eventually when he reached for her hand, Levi locked his legs around hers, lifting her before pulling her down into the tub with him. The cookie had fallen during the movement as she had yelped in surprise, and landed on his chest.

Arranging themselves to be comfortable, MC was lying on her back and Levi had his head resting on her stomach, her fingers brushing through his wet hair with the cookie lying innocently on her abdomen. It was quiet for awhile, neither of them spoke but the atmosphere was comforting, reassuring.

Finally, MC felt his fingers ghost along her stomach to inspect the cookie. It was too dim to see the pattern but she wasn't concerned about it; he'd see the design eventually.

"You made these?" His voice was barely above a whisper so as to not disrupt the mood.

"Mhmm," an affirmative hum in response, fingers still sifting through his hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp. Levi hugged her a little tighter before lifting himself up, cookie in his mouth like she had done earlier, and held his head right above hers, the cookie gently pressed against her lips. Levi couldn't meet her gaze and she swore she could feel the heat radiating from his face, but she raised her head to take a bite from the offered sweet.

Crumbles rained down onto her face and she laughed, bringing up a hand to swipe them away causing Levi to shove the rest of the cookie into his mouth not knowing what else to do with it and not wanting to drop any more crumbs on her.

"It was supposed to be romantic, I'm sorry I messed it up," she could hear the pout in his voice. Looping her arms around his shoulders, MC pulled herself up to kiss him on the cheek, his skin warm against her lips.

"Romance is for boomers and normies. You're adorable and literally perfect the way you are." Levi groaned and leaned forward, burying his face against her neck, his chest rumbling as he tried not to whine.

The two of them shifted their positions again with practiced ease learned from maneuvering around in his narrow bathtub bed. Her ear against his chest listening to the rhythm of his heart beat and his arm resting gently on her upper back. She could feel his hand ghosting over her arm, still showing his shy, hesitant nature.

"Do you want to talk about it? This morning I mean." She felt him tense up and moved her hand from under her chin to splay her fingers gently on his chest to which he flinched from the contact. "We don't have to if you don't want to, I just want to make sure you're okay. You weren't online all day." Her voice got quieter the longer she spoke until the last sentence was mumbled.

"Eh? I bet you jumped around all my accounts to see if I'd been active." MC shrunk down trying to make herself smaller and he let out a laugh. "You did? Oh you totally did! Let me guess, DevilTube, Devilgram, Devilbook, Devcord, don't tell me you also checked Devtrest? Man I haven't been on that one in ages!!" Levi continued laughing and MC playfully smacked her hand on his chest with a scoff, her face burning as he teased her.

"And you even made me cookies too?" Levi sighed and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, squeezing her for a few seconds before pulling away. A hand lingered on her shoulder made her heart swoon. "I just," he started before stopping short, trying to collect and organize his thoughts and she waited patiently as he knew she would.

"You're so patient with me, I'm, I should be able to show you off to my brothers, to the world like you deserve. I should be confident enough to announce that we're, y-you know, t...to..., GAH! I can't even say it! I'm sorry MC, that I'm so use-"

"I don't think so," MC snapped back and pushed herself up to straddle him, smooshing his cheeks together to make fish lips, effectively cutting him off. "Do you remember what we talked about?" Levi looked away and huffed an exhale through his nose. "About being nice to ourselves?" MC still had a hold on his face squishing his cheeks together so he wasn't able to vocally respond but he huffed again before nodding slowly. She released his cheeks and patted his head, watching him expectantly. It was a battle they had frequently, waiting for the other to break first, but he always caved.

"Fine, fine, I give in, you win." As part of their agreement, whenever they caught each other saying something negative or self-depreciating, the one that was caught has to then say a compliment about themselves. "Ah, I'm Ruri-chan's number one fan!" Levi laughed and MC playfully huffed in response before standing and leaving the bathtub bed.

Levi peeked his head over the rim of the tub, worried he'd actually upset her, his eyes following as she walked to his desk and spotted the plate of cookies. He smacked his lips relishing in the sweet aftertaste and his stomach growled signaling it hadn't had a morsel of food all day. Pulling himself out of the tub, Levi padded over next to her and sat down in his chair.

Waiting until he got comfortable, MC sat down in his lap, facing him, and wrapped her arms around his torso, nuzzling her face against his sternum. Levi rested his chin on the top of her head and opened up his social media accounts to catch up on notifications and news, forgetting about his hunger. Hearing his stomach rumble, MC reached over for another cookie, holding it so the glow from the computer highlighted the imprinted design on top.

"If your her number one fan, then that makes me an enabler." Confused by her words, Levi looks down at the cookie in her hand and squealed, cupping her hand holding the baked good gently like it was a precious delicacy.

"MC," he whined. "Is this from the Limited Edition Baking With Ruri-chan Rolling Pin featuring Ruri-chan and Azuki-tan in their aprons and chef hats?" The designs smiling back up at him confirmed his suspicion. "But, we went to all the stores, all the lottery tickets, how were you lucky enough to get one?" She tittered knowing he was impressed and her surprise a success.

"Someone bought one by accident not realizing the design was themed. They wanted the original Ruri-chan design and returned the limited edition one."

"What?!? That's, how does that even happen?" Levi exclaimed, confounded by the happenstance.

"The store clerk was confused too, they could have made bank if they would have sold it instead but nope; they made an even exchange. The clerk remembered how desperate we were to get one and held on to it in case we were to stop by again. Mammon and I were window shopping when the clerk flagged me down. He said by doing us this favor, he hopes we'll seek him out first for future rare merch drops."

Levi was quiet for a moment, considering the design imprinted on the homemade baked good. His free hand lifted, running his fingers along her neck, urging her to pull back and she followed suit, her eyes blinking wide up at the otaku. Levi's hand held her head steady, his finger under her chin, blinking slowly and a soft smile parting his lips.

"I change my answer, I'm your number one fan." Her heart skipped a beat as he pressed his lips softly against hers and she melted. Their flushed cheeks mirrored each other and as she found herself dazed, he realized what he'd done and his face burned hotter. Looking everywhere else, Levi's attention was brought back to the cookie and he quickly took a bite as a distraction. Actually tasting and enjoying the sweet, he let out a delighted hum while he chewed and MC laughed in response, grabbing another cookie for herself to eat.

"You know," he spoke up after finishing his cookie, "I'm a pretty big fan of these cookies too."

"You're not gonna kiss the cookie too, right? Cause that'd be weird." MC snorted with laughter and Levi sputtered before following her in laughter feeling the weight of the day, of the morning, finally drift away.

[kiingocreative]

The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book

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If you ask around, a lot of successful writers will tell you that they look at their writing the same way they would a business. And what do successful business all have in common? They have clearly defined brands that are designed to appeal to their target audience or customers.

What does that mean, concretely?

• It means that they know what they stand for, what their values are and what they’re offering.

• It means that they know who their target customer is, in terms of demographics, likes and dislikes, and general lifestyle or habits.

• It means that their messaging and content is tailored to appeal to that type of customer…

• …So that, ultimately, when their ideal customer lands on their social media pages or website, they can relate to everything on there and be more inclined to purchase a product or service.

Being a writers is no different, in that your work will be, by design, targeted to only a segment of the population. Nurturing your brand is how you’ll ensure your book will be put in front of the right readers, and have the best possible chances of success.

Before you set out on your journey to building your online presence, therefore, think about what you want your channels to reflect—be it across social media or through your website. The online image you’ll be creating has to be consistent across all of the mediums you are leveraging.

This by no means implies your online persona should be fake—quite the opposite in fact! The more genuine your online image is, the easier it will be to maintain over time and the more believable and consistent it will appear (because it’ll be true!).

Why Your Online Image Matters.

Trying to maintain a fake image will, at best, make it unconvincing and, at worst, confusing.

And that’s the thing.

Most people reject what they don’t understand. If they check out your content and it looks all over the place or doesn’t make sense, they’ll simply move on. Confusion turns people away from your content before they’ve had a chance to hear what you have to say.

Ask yourself some questions before you start:

• Who are you? What makes you, YOU? What is unique to you?

• When people think of you, what do you want them to think about? Someone who’s fun? Quirky? Talks about things as they are? Someone who’s formal? Someone with a particular interest? etc.

• How does this translate into the look and feel and content of your social media channels, your website etc.?

Take some time to write this down and use it to create your brand guidelines. And I mean exactly that: write it down. Make it a rulebook, and refer to it regularly. It may change and evolve with time, but having a reference point you can physically consult (as opposed to shreds of an idea of what your brand is about somewhere in your mind) will keep you and your brand on track.

Everything you post about, and the format in which you share it (e.g. photos, videos, long captions, blog posts, newsletter etc.) should be in line with the image you’re building.

From there, identify who your target audience is, and make sure your message (and its delivery) is relatable and appealing to that audience. It can take some trial and error to get right, so give yourself room to learn and grow!

Your Instagram Brand: Content vs. Aesthetics.

Looking at Instagram, you’ll see two main types of focus:

• Focus on aesthetics: these are feeds with high quality, impeccable pictures, quirky reels/videos, with a consistent theme and colour palette, and a huge focus on being visually pleasing.

• Focus on content: feeds where more thought and effort is placed on the post captions.

There are different ratios in which you can combine the two. Go back to your brand guidelines and see which ratio or combination of the two feels like a better fit. Ask yourself what would be more relatable for your target audience. Find what resonates most with you and your brand and stick to it, especially at the beginning when you’re growing a platform.

If you’re unsure what’s right for you, there’s no need to reinvent the wheel. Take some time to browse Bookstagram and find accounts you like. See what they’re doing and use the techniques you can see are working for them and feel right to you. Find what works, throw away what doesn’t.

Whatever you do, keep it consistent.

Wherever you land on the ‘aesthetics focus’ to ‘content focus’ ratio, as with a lot of things the first thing that people see when they land onto your channels (be it your instagram feed, your website etc.) is… Well. What they SEE.

People’s opinion of you based on your content will likely be formed (often subconsciously) within seconds of landing on your website or feed. Within those few seconds, they’ll decide whether or not to stick around or bounce, never to come back again.

For that reason, it’s important to keep the look and feel of your content generally consistent. Remember, confusing people is the surest way to fry their brains and turn them away from your channels before they give you, or what you have to say, a chance.

Your channels should all reflect the same look and the same message, i.e. they should look like they belong to the same person, and not show people one person on Instagram, a different one on your website and yet another one on Facebook. Things need to line up for your audience to get a sense of who you are and what you’re about, so that they can evaluate whether or not they can relate to it all. Once again, and I can’t say this enough, confused brand messaging is your worst enemy.

Professional, or not at all.

Consistency is one thing, and it’s crucial, but it’ll mean nothing if your channels don’t all look professional. Professional doesn’t mean it can’t also have a casual vibe, or be a friendly brand. Professional means whatever your brand is, it should have a certain polish to it, and clearly show that it was thought through and well-executed.

If you’re not convinced, riddle me this: When you land on a website that looked hacky or unsafe, do you still stuck around and browse through it? Or when you find an instagram account with burry pictures, weird-looking captions and totally unrelated content throughout, do you still scroll through for more?

…

My guess is you wouldn’t, because when you find something that looks dodgy (or, in other words, unprofessional) you can’t get away from it fast enough. We all do, because on a primal level that sense of uneasiness, uncertainty and insecurity signals to our brain that there may be danger, and it triggers our flight response.

Here are some prompts to get you started with building professional-looking and consistent channels:

On Instagram:

• What’s your Instagram handle? It is unique and memorable? Find a handle that says what it does on the tin, and one that doesn’t include a string of random numbers and letters. e.g. @authorjohnsmith is good, but @johnny_1999 and @John_Smith99 aren’t because they say nothing about who you are and they won’t be easy to remember.

• What type of pictures are you posting? Are they all clear and high-quality?

• Will you be using filters? If so which one? Ideally pick one and stick to it to give your feed a homogeneous look.

• What format are you using for your captions?

• Are your captions properly spaced out and easy to read?

• What content are you planning to post? Will there be recurring themes? If so, which ones?

On your website:

• Does your website look professional? Or does it look like a dodgy website that people will want to run away from immediately?

• Is your domain clear, specific and easy to remember?

• What does your landing page (your website home page) say about you?

• What imagery are you using?

• Is the look and feel of your website aligned with the look and feel of your Instagram feed? i.e. do they look like they belong to the same person?

• If your website navigation clear?

• How many clicks does it take to go from your home page to finding key information about you and your books?

• Is it easy for people to get in touch with you?

REAL and GENUINE does it.

I appreciate that a lot of the information we’ve covered so far sounds like it involves a lot of over-engineering of your online persona, but that isn’t to say that to succeed you need create a fake alter-ego.

Quite the opposite, actually.

What it suggests is that you should take some time to think about what makes you YOU, what feels real and genuine to YOU and to see how you can best translate that into images and content that will help people get to know YOU and what you stand for.

The illusion of perfection won’t make you attractive. All it’ll do is make you seem one-dimensional, and most likely make it look like you lack substance. In this day and age, people like to be able to relate to others and to see what goes on behind the scenes, the good AND the bad.

That’s all that your writer brand is. And the people who can relate to it will be the ones who stick around to hear more of what you have to say and will be more likely to enjoy your books.

In fact, look at it that way: building our writer brand online is like matching-making our books to their ideal readers. It’s getting our work in front of the people who are primed to love it and embrace it. And if we’ll give our characters a chance to find their literary soul-mates, why wouldn’t we grant our books the same courtesy?

[seeyounexttime]

As you may know, Black Clover is having an online exhibition. If you look at it here (has to be on mobile though) you see 0/20 and 0% in the corner. I saw the screenshots that some people shared also have zeroes and wondered... After some clicking around and struggling with Japanese, I’ve gotten a full score :D

So for those who want to know what to do, or can’t see the exhibition yourself for whatever reason, I’ve made a walkthrough that’s what it’s called right?

First, you’re asked to please turn on the sound and enjoy. There’s an ON and OFF option

Devil Possessed Work Is On Display. DEVILS AND ~THE DON’T GIVE UP MAGICAL EXHIBIT~ Black Clover 6th Year Anniversary Celebration

The Spade Kingdom’s evil devil hosts have set their hands on Black Clover’s online exhibition, the “Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit”, from the 5th year anniversary celebration!? Only the “devil-possessed works” were shining a suspicious light in the transformed exhibition hall.

[yellow/gold box] To the Devils and Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit >>

Asta has newly awakened devil power!? -- Together with the devil Liebe, get power to confront the invasion of the Spade Kingdom, including the Dark Triad!

[white/silver box] To the Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit >>

Complete Revival of the “Won’t Give Up Magical Exhibit”!? -- Because of the Spade Kingdom’s invasion, the “Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit” has ended up in miserable condition, but Nero’s sealing magic has succeeded in completely returning it to the way it used to be! Let’s dive into the work and explore Asta and friend’s “won’t give up magic”

I recommend starting with the previous year’s exhibit, so flip your phone to the side and click the white box with Nero on the corner..~

A little tutorial: you can click in the picture frames, swipe, and pinch the screen. Nero says “I’ll tell you if you get lost. Don’t worry.”

“Not giving up magic” isn’t only Asta’s magic.

Everyone who supported Black Clover will surely have the power of “not giving up magic.” Now, with your magic power, let’s dive into the world of Black Clover’s story.

PROMISE -- 約束 (yakusoku) -- The source of the power of Asta’s “not giving up magic” was a “promise” with his rival, who pursues the dream that they can never give up on, called “to become the Wizard King.”

Nero says “Tap the framed picture.”

This causes a little manga movie to play - about Asta and Yuno of course. Their promise, words exchanged at the dungeon, that time they saved Hage, and times they fought side by side in the Elf Arc are shown. When it comes to an end, it displays this manga spread:

Nero says “Tap the demon’s bones...”

This plays a manga movie about Licht’s and Lumiere’s tragic battle...

Nero says “Tap the icon on the upper left to return to the original world.”

You’ll be taken back the Promise screen and should now have 1/20 at the bottom corner

PRIDE -- 誇り (hokori) -- Magic Knight Squads that protect the world with magical power. The Wizard King with the magic knight captains whom he brings together. It is that “pride” built up due to their overwhelming achievements that is the source of power.

Again, tap the framed pictures. A slideshow of their most prominent moments (before the timeskip) play. At the end is a panel of their most impressive spell at least that’s what I think they were trying to do here?

Nero says “You want to know more about your comrades right”

Tap the yellow button next to her (it says “see details+”). This pops up:

At the top is their type of magic. Then a short description about them. The rest is mostly stats that were already in their manga profile’s + a little extra. In order it’s: {their name ☘, age, height, birthday, sign, blood type, favorite thing, birthplace, and rank}

Yami’s birthplace is the Land of the Sun; Dorothy’s is the Witch’s Forest; Jack’s is in the Common Realm; everyone else was born in the Noble Realm

COMPLEX -- 劣等感 (rettoukan) -- A person who can deal with their “inferiority complex” is also a blessed person who has the chance to become stronger than anyone else.

*note: the kanji specifically refers to “inferiority complex”

A manga movie about her struggles with magic plays, then switches to this:

Nero says “Pinch out and move forward.”

As you “zoom in” panels of Noelle’s development with spells, from Sea Dragon’s Lair to Valkyrie Dress, rotate around, ending with:

“I... won....!!”

FRIENDSHIP -- 絆 (kizuna) -- For their precious friends, sometimes a person can even go as far as surpassing their limits. A magic blow vested with the “bonds” of friends has defeated any despair.

*note: the kanji means “bonds (between people)”

Nero says “If you look at all the framed pictures of bonds…”

When you click on each framed picture, you get panels like in the Complex section but these one’s don’t rotate

It focuses on an important fight for each Black Bull, I think one that emphasizes their bonds with someone and/or teamwork. Magna & Luck share framed pictures; Gauche, Gordon, Grey and Henry share another. Usually at the end you see the kanji for their magic attribute (Charmy’s ends with “food magic”)

Like with the captains, there’s also a panel of them looking impressive. Again, Nero says “You want to learn more about your friends right.”

At the top is their name, description about them, then Profile ☘ and stats in the same order as the captain’s in the Pride section. I want to note that Charmy’s birthplace is literally “?”

But Before You Finish Looking At All The Frames-!! swipe left and take a look 👀

Try to tap this~  Nero says “If you look at all the framed pictures, there will be something good.”

After you watch the 8th one, you’ll find that the middle frame has lit up

“Tap the framed picture” Nero says. A manga movie about the Black Bulls plays, showing their good and awesome times, then ending in the group shot of when they busted in during Asta’s and Nero’s trial --but wait!! there’s more!!!

We’re moving left-?! Omg SECRE-!??

“Well done, you undid the seal.”

“I will undo the seal with my magic.”

Sealing Magic

Inverse Release

LOVE -- 愛 (ai) -- The magic of Black Clover has been sustained by the “love” of everyone who continuously supported all the characters, including Asta and Yuno, and this story. Thank you very much for so much “love.”

That’s right: you just unlocked Love :’)

Tapping it opens up a high-quality image that you can download for yourself.

Nero says “It’s a commemorative wallpaper. It’s yours.”

☘ Instant Posting Magic ☘ Let’s share with everyone that we came to play Black Clover’s 5th anniversary project “Never Giving Up Magic” 📖 Use Instant Posting Magic

Tapping that opens up twitter. Nero says “Post in celebration.”

--but wait! there’s even more!! swipe one more time 👀

Zenon, what are you doing here? staring at a framed picture of the Heart Kingdom... Tap it, Nero says

oh shit

a preview of volume 25 plays

Click Here For Part 2~! ☠ 

※✧※

*Disclaimer: The exhibit used 諦めない魔法 (akiramenai mahou). Akiramenai is the negative form of the verb akirameru "to give up" and mahou is "magic." It's definitely a reference to Asta's "my magic is never giving up" line, and I guess it could be translated as "magic that doesn't give up" but doesn't that make it sound like he has magic? This becomes more of an issue when they begin to apply it to others beside Asta... So yeah, sorry that sounds awkward. Also depending on context and because I got tired of repeating the same phrase I changed the form from "don't give up" to "not giving up" and others.

I was using google translate quite a bit, after I looked up kanji by parts because I couldn't copy-paste the pictures (it was decent practice; I think I can totally identify the word "not giving up" now). This isn't an official release, but I did try to clean things up to at least sound coherent and give you a better idea of what's going on.

[wizkiddx]

honeymoon morning

Honestly I apologise in advance bcos this is pure sickening, god awful fluff. It’s shit bit fluffy af and warmed my cold heart of stone a little ahah. Kinda imagined that its actress!reader too, but doesn’t acc have to be (oh and for the purposes of the story also married Haz off to the readers best mate). On a real, really didn’t excute the idea the way I wanted but hey-ho. T x 

Summary: the morning after the wedding and there are some beans to be spilt in between all the happiness

The best morning of her life. Y/n knew it would be just that. I mean, it already was - she woke up in the arms of the man she loved, that she could now call her husband forever and ever. Tom looked glorious; still asleep as he lay on his back, slightly tilted toward her side and his arm outstretched as if he was waiting for her to come back to bed and join him. Even unconscious, Y/n still wanted to please him in everyday possible so she did just as he wanted. Tiptoeing from the doorway on their ensuite, she pulled the cord of the white silk robe slightly tighter round her stomach. Before she lay down next to her husband, she smiled gently and pulled her still wet hair to one side, smelling like apples of the hotels free sample shampoos. As if rehearsed, as soon as she settled on the white pillows, ontop of Tom’s outstretched arm, he rolled almost ontop of her, throwing his other arm over her side and squeezed. Y/n couldn’t repress that little giggle his actions illicited, making the brunette around her groan and mumble something incoherent meanwhile pressing his head further into her hair. 

Which made him pull back and slowly blink awake with a scowl. Her hair was still wet. 

“Hi husband” She grinned, loving the way his scowl at being awoken morphed into this shit eating smile. 

“My beautiful wife huh?” Tom tucked a clump of damp hair behind her ear before letting his palm rest on her glowing cheek and just staring into her seemingly ever changing eyes. No matter how many times he looked into them, Tom always managed to see something different and exciting in them. Something else to fall deeply and helplessly in love with. 

“Yesterday was…”

“Everything.” Tom finished off for her, before pressing his lips to hers as she shifted to lean over him. 

“Uh-huh. But now it’s today. Which means… you gotta get up!” She eventually got to the point, sitting up and therefore avoiding his second attempt to meet lips, once again making him pout. 

“Is it too much to ask to just spend a day in bed with my wife?” His wife. Boy did that sound like music to her ears.

“Yes because everyone is waiting downstairs for us at breakfast!”

“They can wait there till tomorrow for all I care.” Indignantly, Tom closed his eyes pretending to go back to sleep.

“And… because I got you a marriage present.” That got his attention. Eyes flying open, as he pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard of the big four poster bed, Tom looked quizzically at his wife. His wife. 

Giggling at his oh-so-predictable reaction, Y/n leaned off the bed to pickup the small gift wrapped box on the floor.

“Y/n you really shouldn’t have I didn’t know we were doing this-“

“Oh shut up and open it would you?”

“Unless this is a toy for… you know, then you really should have.” Even half asleep, Tom still had something on his mind.

“Tom! Just open it before you ruin the moment anymore.” She wasn’t really mad. She was smirking and jokingly rolling her eyes at his idiocy. He was her idiot though. With a confused look, Tom followed her instructions, carefully unwrapping the silvery gift paper to reveal a navy blue velvet box. He looked up momentarily to question Y/n, who just gestured for him to open it. Going at a painfully slow speed, he lifted it up to reveal an old and tattered watch. It had a cracked glass front yet Tom could still see the ‘Rolex’ logo branded onto the face of it. 

Not going to lie - he was confused. Y/n knew he already had multiple nice watches he wore regularly. All of those were in better nick than this. 

“I umm-“

“It’s an old Rolex. I thought you could do it up like your dad did for you.” She whispered, with this massive smile just because she knew Tom still didn’t understand.

“Oh I er… I mean I could I’m not sure-“ Tom stammered, she seemed so proud of herself, yet he couldn’t really understand why and didn’t want to disappoint her. To be fair him being a bit slow wasn’t an uncommon thing, Tom would hold hid hands up and admit he wasn’t the smartest. Whereas and completely unknown to most people, Y/n was really really clever, I mean she was nearly going to be a doctor. That was one of the things Tom absolutely loved too, the way she would be able to make leaps and figure things out the average person would just stare at confused. So fair to say, she was used to explaining things to him. 

“You know your Dad gave it to his first born on their eighteenth, your eighteenth birthday. And I thought you could do with all the 18 years because I dont fancy you as a professional watch-fixer.” Tom was still absolute clueless, waiting for more of an explanation. 

“18 years?” The number seeming a bit random but oddly specific to Tom.

“Well you know… 18 years from now when your son or daughter turns into an adult. When they aren’t our little baby anymore.” She whispered, taking his hands in her and pressing it against her ever so slightly bloated stomach. 

And then finally it clicked. His eyes grew impossibly wide, pressing lightly on her silk-clad stomach as he sat forwards.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Tommy we are going to be parents!” She smiled whilst nodding, totally enamoured by the look of sheer joy on his face. 

“This isn’t a joke right?”

“No I swear to you. 12 weeks yesterday.”

“You’re serious? We’re going to be parents?” Y/n just nodded in response this time, before instantaneously Tom’s lips were on hers, pouring all the passion and love and excitement that he could on her. After a few moments they pulled away, yet keeping their faces impossibly close.

“I love you”

“I love you and… well I love them too.” Y/n was so in love with the man in front of him. He just was going to be the best Dad in the world and there was no-one she would rather start this journey with. In complete honesty, yesterday the first thing she’d wanted to do when she saw Tom standing at the altar was tell him. It had been impossible, the last weeks of keeping ‘shtum’. But she’d only found out when she noticed she was 3 weeks late on her period, by which point Tom was away filming. They’d agreed that so they both had a quality honeymoon, to finish any backlog of work before the wedding, so it was a 8 week holiday with just the two of them. It had also made the reunion that much better, having been apart for almost 2 months before the wedding. 

“You want to see them? I had the scan really early yesterday morning?” It was an unnecessary question, as soon as Y/n even mentioned it Tom bolted up like an excited puppy. With a knowing laugh, Y/n then slipped her hand under the pillow to produce the little white card and offering it to him. Tom took the card, while with his other hand pulling her flush with his chest so she was sitting half on his lap. Slowly Tom lifted the front of the card, to reveal the black ultrasound print. For all he knew that could be an ultrasound of elephant dung; but the fact that he had it on good authority it was his wife and baby, Tom swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Knowing he was more than hopeless at this, Y/n took him through slightly different blobs on the picture, demonstrating the head, an arm, a foot. 

“Why didn’t you tell me though? You had to do this by yourself?”

“By the time I found out myself you were already in new york and… well its not something to say over the phone is it?”

“Y/n as perfect as this is, you could’ve sent me a text for all I care. I wouldn’t have let you do this on your own! Have you been sick or-“

“Not technically on my own… don’t be mad but Y/f/n was there when I took the test, she was the one who said I should.”

“I should’ve guessed that to be fair” Tom rolled his eyes playfully, of course Y/f/n knew they were basically joint at the hip. She probably sensed it with her best friend powers.

“And yeh mornings aren’t very fun but thats supposed to ease now we’re over the first trimester.”

“I-fuck I don’t know what to say… I just love you.”

“And that is all I’ve ever wanted.” She whispered against his lips before they connected once again. It was just so full of gentle, care and love for each other. The moment was just perfect… until her phone rang. 

Y/n pulled away, receiving an almost whine from her husband, reaching to answer her phone. 

“Hey… yeh yeh I know we are on our way, just had some news to spill… I think he’s happy yeh-“ she giggled, as she watched Tom gently pull back the sides of her robe to reveal her belly. At only 12 weeks, she was barely showing at all but now Tom looked he didn’t understand how he hadn’t noticed last night. “-… I’m not sure let me check hang on” Y/n spoke into the receiver again, Tom already knew the moment it rang it would only be Y/f/n. Only she would have the audacity to interrupt the couple the morning after their wedding. 

“Tom so… I kind of made arrangements just incase, because this is a pretty good time just because everyones here. But I figured you might want to keep it a secret for a bit when its just us that know?” He looked toward the window, apparently deep in thought, before turning back to her. 

“I’m spoiler king right? Might be safest to tell them before I explode.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeh course, you know I can’t keep a secret, one look at Haz and he’ll know something is up”

“Actually he might already know too-“

“WHAT”

[its5amandimstillawake]

Ok so I decided, against my better judgement to watch the movie adaptation of Artemis fowl, aka my entire childhood. So I actually am making this as a watch it, Everytime I see an inconsistency I will pause it, take a picture, and then find in the book one or more example of why that is wrong. So here's my list, wish me luck. (Click on image for better quality)

Before we start I want to say two things, first please do not harrash the actors, some of them are actual children and even the adults are just doing their job, it's not their fault the movie had inconsistencies. Second, I will be mostly talking about major changes made that aren't the plot. At the end I may talk about the actual plot to the movie if it was bad enough or different enough to the book, but for the beginning it will be away from the plot things, I will try to refrain from nitpick though.

SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT ON

1. I already expected this from the trailer but I still had to include it. Why the fuck is he surfing??

He isn't just surfing either. He's straight up doing cool and complicated tricks and flips.

2. As a lot of people guessed from the trailers Artemis' mother, Angeline, is dead.

Obviously she's alive in all of the books. And not only that but she's the reason Artemis gives Holly back half the gold. We even have a important moment to his character where he has to decide between his fortune and his mother as seen in the passage above.

3.

Again?? Why is this kid doing cool tricks In the air?? This is extremely against his character!

4. His dad is still here. His dad is supposed to have been missing presumed dead for around 2 years at this point. He's doing all of this because his dad went missing! There's even a scene in the first book where he forced himself to turn off the TV he keeps on at all times to see if his father has returned, it's a pretty emotional moment and important to his character.

5. Ok so Artemis fowl senior apparently taught Artemis everything about the fairies?

Yea no. Artemis found all of that out by himself after his father had disapeared, he found out by doing some internet surfing (note, not actual surfing.)

6. Also his dad seems like a caring, carefree, kind dad to Artemis and for the most part seems chill and "shared his passions with his sons"? Like look at this picture, it looks like an ad for fathers day or something! Definitely not the very formal man who spoke to his son like he was a buisness partner that he was in the books. I mean In this passage I got from the books he's setting up appointments to see his son by email, so they can discuss buisness, and he shakes his son's hand. And his son was 10 at the time!

7. They are using butler's first name?!?! How dare they?!! You do NOT use butler's first name. Nobody called him Dom or domovoi except Artemis and juliet and that was maybe twice each throughout the entire series!

8. So... Artemis In the book knew his dad was a criminal... So... I don't know what else to say except. No. stop. For the love of God please stop the movie, please tell whoever made this movie to go pick up a book.

And I am only 22 minutes into this movie and have already gotten mad and frustrated and have been pausing to complain every few minutes resulting in me trying to watch this movie for the past 3 hours and only getting 22 minutes in. And I've reached the limit of pictures. And that's not even counting things like, Artemis calls his dad "dad" instead of father even though in the books he says it's infantile to call his parents mom and dad, which is something that upsets his mother. Artemis wears regular clothes even though in the books he wears a suit and HATES the idea of wearing regular jeans and t-shirt, even though his mother insists that he should. And even small details like the fact that the ship is called the "owl star" instead of "fowl star" I mean it's a letter! How'd they mess that up?? It's the main character's name! Did the director not see the F??

So far I like mulch and that's basically it. Anyway what are your thoughts? Would love to hear how other Artemis fowl fans took it.

Part 2 available here

[murumokirby360]

My Awei A780BL wireless headphone's 2 year condition (w/ my Paper Dolls) - [Dec 15, 2021]

Hello! This is my last post in 2021; as we say goodbye to this year and a new year is coming up on the horizon. Anyway, I want a talk about my recent used wireless Bluetooth headphone; the Awei A780BL.🎧

So without further ado, let's get started:

1st [Top] to 4th Images:

• Now, it has been 2 years since May 30, 2019. At look at it now; my headphone has scratches (well a bit), dusts, messy, and even glued by using sticky tapes & super glue, well, for the most part. Let me explain.

• First off ���, the plastic part on the adjustable headbands snapped. But the metal piece on each side (sandwiched between the aforementioned plastic part) still intact, so I used scotch sticky tapes on the right side & duct tape on the left side. Weird, huh...

• Second ✌️, the left side of the ear cover also snapped from me accidentally pulled. Originally I taped all around with small metal bends on the left side but it doesn't seem do the job, and it looks pretty bad. (Which I have that picture right here [CLICK ME!]) So I removed the tape and I applied super glue on the broken part, then I used paper long tail clips to prevent separate & let it for overnight until it's completely sticky secured. Now that the left ear cover is cured, well, except that foldable joint, which is now wobble than it used to. I decided to disassemble the left ear cover by unscrew & it turns out that the plastic part from inside broke. So, what to do? I tried stuffing by tiny size folded paper but the wobbly still there. Nah, whatever. At least the wire audio remains functional after fixing.

• The right ear cover on the hand still intact. Well, except one: the functional buttons. Here are the ff. issues I've encountered:

5th & 6th Images:

○ Power button 🔘: It's hard to press now when I try to turn on than it used to. Plus, it takes time to press for about 5 to 6 seconds for turn on / turn off my headphone. And it's quite confusing on whether I should press hard or gentle, because I don't want to broke the power button. Without it, my headphone is now useless, but at least I could switch to wire mode with my audio jack cable.

○ Volume & play/pause buttons ⏮⏯⏭: When I try to adjust the volume (whether low or high) from my headphone it automatically shuts off (while connecting my computer or my phone). Weird. It doesn't seem right though. Same goes to play/pause buttons. It seems I won't be touching these in the future.

BTW: I haven't touch the TF-Card slot from the wireless headphone. Honestly, I don't usually inserting my Micro SD Card on my headphone, so yeah.

○ (And finally) Battery 🔋: Ummm... Okay, let's talk about battery life from A780bl headphone. I usually watching videos for about 7 to 8 hours per week and sometimes 3 to 4 hours, then when I hear "battery low" from my headphone I act quickly by switching wire mode with my audio jack to continue watching. And when I'm done, I charge my headphone for long hours. It's weird, according to the official manual it's said that the charging time is 2 hours. Well, I hate to tell ya but I charge it for 12 hours. I mean, c'mon, make up your own mind, Awei. The A780bl's battery life should known better, but otherwise it's a decent job (I guess).

7th & 8th Images:

• As for the soft ear pads and headband pads on the top, they're quite messy & cover in dusts.🦠️ Plus it smells sweat, hey, what do you expect. As of now, I don't see any damage or ripped whatsoever. And yes, these ear pads are my prefer when it comes to super budget over-the-ear headphones. If I have a premium expensive wireless over-the-ear headphone then it'll be far better than my super budget headphone.

Overall:

• With all of the issues, damages & others, my wireless headphone from Awei still functional as ever after 2 years of used. And yet I'm still using it to this day. The only thing that I never talk about is the sound quality, because it's the same as before without damaging the audio drive or cut from the wire inside. And that's a good thing. I still love my old Awei headphones, and while I have another one from ZNT brand, I prefer my one until the end. And if my old Awei headphone is completely busted, then I guess I'll embrace my new headphone from ZNT [CLICK ME!].

9th Image: • Even with damage conditions, my paper dolls can still fit in on my headphones. So, what you listening, you two? Anime song? 🎌🎵 Love song? 💕🎵 Rock?🎸🎵 Or maybe, cooking music? 🍴🎵 Probably the latter.😉🎧 Well, that's the end of my topic. If you want to see more about my Awei A780BL headphones, then please [CLICK ME!].

Tagged:@lordromulus90, @bryan360 ,@carmenramcat, @neutralized-l

[ruewrites]

bestie can we get some solodeus angst

The Next Step

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 3081

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey Anon! So I struggled with this request for a bit. So I decided to write a little oneshot for WBT. I hope you like it and I hope this may be what you had in mind for some angst (with a happy ending)!

“So do you wanna do something this week? We could go check out that movie  we thought might be bad. Frankenzilla’s Aquatic Monstrocity Two?” he tried to make his voice sound as tempting as possible. The semester was coming to a close  and Asmo missed his boyfriend. It felt like he hadn’t seen him outside of the one class they had together and even then their only greeting was a quick kiss before running to the next place. 

Sure they had coffee trips still, but both of them were too exhausted to usually say much and then classes interrupted any other time they might have. 

Solomon sighed on the other end of the line. The soft tapping of his keyboard reached Asmo on the other end of the line. Was it another application or course work this time? Perhaps he was responding to another email from the staff at one of the schools he applied to. There were many options, and each one twisted a knot in his stomach.

“I can’t tonight. I’m overloaded right now. You know, assignments destined to kill me and all. If not the assignments, the applications.” Despite the chuckle tinting his voice, Asmo could hear how tired Solomon was.  He could practically picture the piles of empty or lukewarm coffee cups surrounding him. It was a familiar sight, and one that Asmo would often see when trying to coax him to bed to relax and get some sleep. That was another thing Asmo had been missing: cuddling. The way Solomon’s arms would wrap around his waist, or when Asmo would commandeer Solomon’s chest as his own personal pillow. 

Quality time was something Asmo desperately needed, especially before the next step came… And graduation was rapidly approaching.

“Well, we don’t have to see the movie!” Asmo’s voice was coming out quickly, and he hated it.

“Asmo-”

“We can go walk in the park-”

“I really ca-”

“Or we could go to our favorite cafe! The one off campus. Wouldn't it be-”

“Asmodeus.” 

Asmo’s words died on his tongue. Solomon snapped at him. Solomon never snapped at him. Not once in the entire year they’d been together as a couple. When they were younger maybe, but not in their more recent history. It made Asmo sick to his stomach.

 A small whimper left his throat and his fingers gripped his phone a little tighter. 

“Fuck,” Asmo swore he heard Solomon slump back onto the couch, “Asmo, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Asmodeus I-”

“It’s fine,” Asmo was fighting back tears, “It’s fine really-”

“No. No it’s not I shouldn’t talk to you like that, sleep deprived or not. I know you Asmodeus, I know it’s not just fine,” Solomon finally let exhaustion overtake him, his voice was dripping with it, “And I really am sorry, I can’t hang out right now. I want to, I really really do. Honest.”

“It’s fine,” the words came out softer this time before silence stretched over the line. 

Solomon was the first one to break it, “I love you and I miss you.”

“I love you too.” Asmo was just barely keeping himself together, and he had no doubt that Solomon knew this. Solomon knew him too well.

“I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. I promise. I love you, so very much Asmodeus. Goodnight, I’ll see you in class tomorrow if I’m still alive.”

Asmo didn’t even crack a smile at Solomon’s attempt at a joke when he heard the familiar click signaling the end of their call.

They were seniors. They didn’t have much left. What was the next step?

At the news that Mammon could pull some strings to get Asmo some sort of job in the fashion world, he’d been elated. He’d talked about it days upon days on ends with Solomon, and Solomon had been so happy for him. Meanwhile Solomon had been pacing back and forth, waiting for some sort of response from a master’s program. He’d said he’d be happy getting into any school, lucky even, but Asmo knew him. Solomon had his favorite, his ambitious Solomon aimed for the stars and Asmo had no doubt in his mind that he’d end up right where he wanted to be.

But that scared him.

It made him feel terrible. He should be supportive of and happy for Solomon, yet something was holding him back. At this rate, they would only have the summer together, and that wasn’t enough time. The summer would fly by before Asmo knew it and then he’d maybe have to help Solomon move into some fancy dorm somewhere far away from him and his love. 

At one point he’d been excited about the next step in his life, but now graduation just seemed like a looming storm overhead.

His mind was wandering and he couldn’t stop it.

He’d had breakups over less. Expecting Solomon to stay with him after they graduated was selfish, and yet he dared to hope for it. The best he could hope for was that Solomon asked for a break. Was it any better? No. But at least Asmo would have the illusion of hope. People broke up with Asmo over him deciding to dress down or for being too clingy. Then again, he knew he’d dated shallow people in the past and Solomon wasn’t shallow.

But it was still selfish for him to want what he did.

But a part of him didn’t care.

Asmo wasn’t stupid. He knew Solomon was the best he’d ever had. He was attentive, remembered when Asmo said little things, made him feel good in more ways than one, and was nothing short of wonderful. There was no way Asmo was going to let himself lose him and yet-

“He’s going to break up with me.”

“You don’t know that.”

One of the cats of the cafe rubbed against his side. Perhaps she could feel his sorrow. Asmo had just finished sobbing in his room before texting Satan. His pillow had become completely damp with tears and his eyes were red and puffy and looked as if they were made out of glass. Satan could keep his thoughts level and talk Asmo out of whatever negativity currently plagued his thoughts.

“But he hasn’t been spending time with me! Our normal hang out times have been completely run over!” Asmo sniffled, half-heartedly bringing his tea closer to his lips, “This is how breaking up normally starts.”

Satan shook his head, “You really think he went to all that work to get with you only to break up with you? Didn’t he get a tattoo to represent your relationship or something like that when the two of you had barely been dating for a month?”

“Three months. He wanted to get it a month in, but it took me three months to the day of our anniversary to finish the sketch.” Asmo’s fingertips lightly traced the rim of the cup, eyes fixed on his reflection inside. He’d wanted that tattoo to be perfect. So many scrapped ideas had flown around in his head before he was finally happy with one, that and he’d been nervous about Solomon getting a tattoo dedicated to them. They’d gone to every appointment together. Asmo said he wanted to make sure the art was good, what he meant was that he wanted to make sure Solomon didn’t change his mind. 

Had it really all been for nothing?

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

💖Honey Dearest💖: Hey

💖Honey Dearest💖: Look I feel really bad

💖Honey Dearest💖: And I’m very sorry

💖Honey Dearest💖: Incredibly sorry

💖Honey Dearest💖: You deserve so much Asmo, and my time for you has been taken up by other things

💖Honey Dearest💖: But I’ll have free time this weekend and I can make reservations for us

💖Honey Dearest💖: I need to talk to you about something

💖Honey Dearest💖: Something that’s been on my mind

Asmo’s heart stopped. With shaking hands he shot up, startling the poor kitty next to him. He shoved his phone into Satan’s face, “See? See??? He wants to talk so he can let me down easy! Oh I’m going to lose him!”

“Asmo hush. You’re startling the cats,” Satan’s brow furrowed as he looked over the text messages, “He’s not saying anything about breaking up with you. It actually seems like he’s putting effort in to see you.”

“You don’t know that! I’ve been here before. I know this isn’t good I- I-”

Oh he was the definition of a mess right now.

“And you don’t know that he’s going to break up with you. You’re not the only one who’s  dated people Asmo,” Satan pushed the phone back into his hands and went to pick the forgotten, luckily unspilled, cup up. “Send him a text and at least hear him out. I think you're reading too much into this.” 

Asmo had drowned Satan out. He vaguely saw him go behind the counter to start remaking his drink again, but other than that Asmo didn’t process a thing. 

Keeping Solomon was his main goal. He needed to figure out how to convince him that they were good for each other, that they could make this work. If he did leave him, Asmo knew that was it. He knew Solomon was the best he could get, and he wasn’t about to lose his chance at a happy future.

After texting Solomon an agreement to the meetup and deciding on a place, the rest of Asmo’s days leading up to the weekend were consumed with worry. In the end he’d made a list of reasons as to why they should stay together and how they could make everything work. If he was being honest with himself, he knew this list was more for him. He wanted to remember his reasons for when the time came. The last thing he wanted was to be left blubbering in public.

He’d made himself up nice. If Solomon was planning to break up with him, he wanted to assure he looked fine as hell and make him second guess the decision. It’d been a while since he’d done himself up this well, maybe he should do it more often. He used to do this all the time with partners because he wanted to make sure they loved him. But Solomon had loved him so matter what. He loved looking at Asmo first thing in the morning before he did himself up and when he was still in one of Solomon’s shirts. 

Asmo had never felt this comfortable in a relationship before. He’d never felt so safe before.

…

He was going to miss that so much…

The feeling of being safe.

Being wanted.

Being adored.

Despite his worries, the whistle that left Solomon’s lips sent a blush to his cheeks. 

“You really look nice.”

Solomon’s hair was slicked back the way Asmo liked it. Why did he also have to put effort into his appearance? Asmo felt even more anxious now, looking at him in the doorway. Solomon was the only one who’d ever made his heart flip like this. It had been impossible to calm himself all the way over  to the restaurant.

Solomon had always been good at picking up when something was off, and Asmo had to wonder what he was thinking. Then again, even though Asmo was being uncharacteristically quiet, Solomon seemed uncharacteristically chatty. Asmo knew he could get that way about things he enjoyed, but this wasn’t one of those moments. Instead Solomon was tripping over his words as he discussed… nothing really. The sinking feeling in his stomach continued as they took their food and left once again to a little secluded place in the park. Solomon has suggested it, he mentioned that it might be best if they could be alone for a bit.

It didn’t make Asmo feel better.

Eating didn’t really seem possible. Instead, Asmo was pushing the food around inside his box. He’d take a bite eventually, as soon as he was sure it’d go down alright. 

“I heard back from the program I applied to,” Solomon started, “I got in.”

“Oh? I’m so happy for you! Solomon that’s wonderful!” Asmo hoped his cheeriness didn’t sound forced.

Are you going to leave? 

“Yeah! It’s a huge relief. One less thing I have to worry about.” Solomon went silent now. The inches between them felt like miles to Asmo. He should feel happier for him. His boyfriend’s dreams were coming true, he knew Solomon had wanted this program more than anything. Why couldn’t he be happy for him?

The soft shutting of Solomon’s to go box brought Asmo’s attention back. Their shoulders brushed and Solomon kept the contact.

“I’m happy I can have this with you,” he murmured, “I know I haven’t been around much this half of the semester, and I do mean it when I say I’m sorry about that. You deserve only good things Asmodeus. You do.”

Asmo stiffened.

“The past year has been nothing but amazing, you’ve been nothing but amazing.”

He was tripping over his words. He’d heard this phrasing before.

“I mean every moment I’ve known you has been a pleasure, but having you close like this, it’s been… wonderful.”

Now. He should say it now. Say how he’d give up an easy in to his dream and follow Solomon wherever he went if it meant they could stay together. The past year had been a dream and Asmo wasn’t ready to wake up and let go yet. He’d go to the ends of the world for Solomon, he’d give up his life for him. The future seemed so blank without Solomon, and Asmo was scared to enter it without him.

“So, what do you say Asmodeus Morningstar? Do you want to take the next step together?” 

Wait.

What?

“Will you marry me?”

Asmo hadn’t realized his eyes were closed. Kneeling in front of him, with the most gorgeous ring Asmo had ever seen, was Solomon. He looked so hopeful yet nervous. There was only one thing Asmo knew, and that was that he wasn’t a pretty crier.

Through blurry eyes he watched as panic overtook his boyfriend as he scrambled to stand up, “Hey hey hey. It’s okay.  We don’t have to-”

Asmo wanted to say something more, wanted to say something profound and loving to Solomon. Instead what came out was unintelligible blubbering for his boyfriend to decipher.

“What do I mean by that?” Solomon asked, “Well I don’t want to force you to marry me. I just thought it would be nice to ask before graduation, and I know I haven’t been able to see you and-”

As Asmo wiped the tears from his eyes, Solomon took in a breath and slowly let it out, “I love you, and even if I couldn’t see you I’ve had a lot of time to think about this.”

Asmo wrapped his arms around Solomon’s neck as he sniffled, and for the first time since their last talk on the phone he found himself smiling. This isn’t what he thought their proposal would look like at all. “I’d like to get married.”

“You would?”

“Yes,” looking into Solomon’s eyes and Asmo almost choked on his words again, “Yes.”

Kissing Solomon had always been a heavenly experience, but Asmo couldn’t help but laugh as his fiance left his lips to cover every inch of his skin in love. Asmo also didn’t miss the way his hands shook when he put that ring on his finger. 

After all of his anxieties, this was definitely a breath of fresh air.

Although, he wouldn’t be telling Satan about how right he’d been.

***

“You suuuuure we can’t get a house?”

“Asmo we won’t be living there forever, we can rent out an apartment and then go house shopping.”

“Mmh, I still like the idea of having a house.”

Asmo sat in between his fiance’s legs, Solomon’s chin resting on his shoulder as the two of them looked over their options. There were a few nice places between Solomon’s grad school and where Asmo would have to drive for his new employer. He’d made sure Mammon knew where the school was so he had a radius to look at. Luckily, Mammon seemed to know a guy. 

This whole situation had been lucky. Asmo wanted to follow Solomon so badly, talking on the phone or video chatting simply just wouldn’t be enough! Solomon’s only condition had been if Asmo could also pursue his dreams as well. No way was he going to let him  not take an opportunity if something was offered to him! 

But it worked out, it always did. It always would one way or another.

“One day we’ll get a nice house, make it all our own,” Solomon mouthed against his neck, “As soon as we get married.”

Giggles left Asmo’s mouth as Solomon’s mouthing turned into tiny butterfly kisses, “I’d like that. But now that you mention it, we never got to celebrate our engagement did we?” 

Solomon paused and looked up at Asmo with a quirked brow. “Celebrate?” his arms tightened around Asmo’s waist, “What did you have in mind?”

Oh Asmo loved that wicked smirk.

“I wanna ceeelebraaate,” he giggled, leaning further into Solomon’s chest.

“I heard you, but that doesn’t tell me what you want.”

Asmo was about to go further when Simeon cleared his throat. He stared at the couple from the archway leading to the kitchen, “Mindful. Someone will be arriving home soon. Don’t make me banish you from the living room.”

“Ah, sorry Simeon, don’t worry, we’ll be mindful.”

“You better, I already have to think about looking for a new roommate because of  you.”

The tone between them was playful, they’d become relatively good friends since Solomon started living there from what Asmo could see. 

“I’m sure I could help,” Asmo chirped, “Maybe one of my brothers or someone else we know might be interested.”

“Thank you Asmodeus, I appreciate that. Now behave, both of you.”

When Simeon disappeared, Solomon leaned close to Asmo’s ear, “We’ll celebrate as soon as we move into the new apartment.”

“Oooh I like that! I guess that means we should pick one out then yes?”

“Oh my smart fiance is very incredibly right.”

Solomon leaned in for a kiss and Asmo gladly obliged. 

While the future was still uncertain to a point, they had each other, and they’d be taking their next steps together.

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 13)

(gif by me! I use the iphone app momento)

tw: language, angst, mentions of drug use (relapse), mentions of miscarriage

word count: 7.3k (im sorry)

masterlist

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Spencer got up from the cold tile floor, fuzzy unicorn in hand, and faced the window above the kitchen sink. He stared out of it, admiring the snow that was still falling lightly, wondering if it was raining in Seattle. His memory flashed to the last time he stood in the rain with you, but he tried to shake the images away. Instead he watched the snowflakes hit his windowpanes and melt. He hoped that maybe you were somewhere staring out of a window, admiring the dreary weather, and thinking of him too. 

He found his place against the dishwasher again, sliding down as his mismatched socks gave way so he could stretch his long legs out fully. He pulled the nearly empty box onto his lap and appreciated the light weight of it, as he continued with his twelfth letter and thirteenth item. Thirteen, a number whose history of unluckiness stems all the way back to the thirteen attendees of the Last Supper, and tracks through the number of steps leading up to the gallows, all the way to the number of letters in the names of some of the most infamous criminals. 

Thirteen was a haunted number, which rightly accompanied a haunting letter. 

“This one’s long. It’s a month of tarnished memories packed into a few pieces of paper. So far I’ve gone through half of a college-ruled one subject notebook and I’ve had to change pens twice. It’s nearing 2:30, and the wine is finally hitting my empty stomach. Sorry in advance for the way my handwriting will be. I’ll try to make this make as much sense as I can. 

If you look at your thirteenth item it is the notepad I stole from that resort in Florida. There isn’t much around to signify this letter. You don’t keep mementos from one of the saddest days of your life, but for some reason I took this useless paper and shoved it in my purse on my way out. Good thing I did, or you’d have no item to attach to these memories. Though I suppose that might be better. 

The resort was where we were going to be at for our ‘babymoon,’ whatever that is. What a dumb idea, I’m still mad at myself for letting Garcia talk us into one. She just made it sound so appealing. 

Once everyone knew I was pregnant, Hotch pretty much sat me in Quantico with Penelope. There were a few local cases where I was lucky enough to go visit the ME’s office, but usually I kicked my feet up in her lair while you were out in the field. 

“A what?” I said one day as she ran DNA through CODIS. The two of us were drinking herbal tea, and I was barely 16 weeks. I just looked like I had a big lunch in my stomach, not a baby the size of an avocado. 

“A babymoon. It’s like a honeymoon, but you go when you’re pregnant. It’s one last trip for mommy and daddy to go on and spend quality time together. How many trips have you and Dad-Wonder even been on?”

I shrugged. We didn’t travel much for pleasure. We traveled for work, so on our rare days off we liked to be at home. 

“I mean we’ve gone to Vegas and Connecticut a few times.”

She rolled her eyes, “Visiting family, my dear, is not a vacation! I was thinking you two would go to the beach. You guys relax and wade in the ocean and Spencer can build sandcastles that defy every law of physics!”

I laughed at that. You and the beach? It just didn’t feel natural to me. Probably because you aren’t capable of actually relaxing.  

“That does sound fun,” I said and I spoke to my barely there stomach, “And it would make daddy take a few days off.”

Penelope squealed and started clicking at her computer, “I’ll find a resort online right now! Okay so how about Marco Island? It’s gorgeous and in Florida, so it’ll be like eighty and sunny, even in the beginning of December.”

“I’ll have to talk to Spence about it. I mean I know it would be fun and all but we really should be saving money for a crib, and car seat, and bassinet, and high chair, and a rocking chair, and a baby swing, and a—“

Garcia stopped me from spiraling out of control, “That is why you throw a huge baby shower! People buy those things for you.”

I rubbed my tummy again, “Oh no, Daddy is very particular about what things are bought.”

“That’s why you have a registry, Momma Bear. Now, no more excuses.”

Before I could even call you, she had put in both of our requests for days off and we had a week long reservation at this fancy resort that you see listed at the top of this notepad, the “Crystal Cove”.  

I was only slightly mortified that she did all this without me asking you. Mostly, I was happy. I was afraid you wouldn’t say yes, but if PG already booked it, you kind of had to agree. And to my surprise, you did. 

When you got back from that case we were at home, you eating something I had poorly made from a random cookbook on a shelf. I had decided to start cooking more, so I could make homemade meals. I wanted to be that mom who cuts sandwiches into flower shapes and always has fresh baked bread and cookies laying around. I wanted us to be those parents; the ones who are so sickeningly in love that their kids roll their eyes every time they kiss. We were those parents, kind of, if we could even be considered ‘parents.’ At that point, I don’t think we were. But we were definitely in tooth-rotting, sickeningly sweet love. 

“So, I have a surprise for you,” I said, coming up behind you and rustling your hair. 

“Hm?” You said, stuffing your face like you hadn’t eaten in days. You probably hadn’t. You’re the king of forgetting to eat. Maybe that’s how you stay so skinny. 

“I booked a trip, well I guess technically Garcia did.”

“A trip?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, a trip, to the beach. Penelope called it a ‘babymoon.’”

You laughed, “A babymoon? I’m not familiar."

I smiled and sat across from you, “It’s like a honeymoon, except it's just me and you relaxing and spending quality time together before this lil dude makes his appearance.”

You smiled, “I’m telling you, it’s a girl.”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s definitely a boy, but stop ignoring my offer.”

“Well, it’s not really an offer so much as it is you telling me that we’re doing this.”

“Okay, yes Garcia helped me book it already, and yes she put in our requests for days off, but you can say no.”

You did your little nose twitch scrunch thing, “I’d never say no to quality time with you, Love.”

You leaned over and kissed me, and I squealed, “I’m so excited! I have to buy maternity bathing suits now! Oh and a sunhat!””

Spencer smiled fondly, recounting that day. He was thrilled to go, minus the part where he’d have to wear shorts, and flip flops. Something about the piece that goes between your toes makes him squeamish. He was looking for the right opportunity to use something special he had bought for you, and you had just given him it. A week on a beautiful beach with the love of his life? That would be the perfect time to ask you what he had been waiting to ask you since JJ’s wedding. He was going to take Hotch’s advice; stop waiting, start doing, and get down on one knee with a blue velvet box. 

He never got the chance to. The trip was supposed to be in the beginning of December, around your week twenty-four. You never got that far. 

He got up from the ground, immediately digging around in a drawer full of pencils and compasses and rulers, finding the blue box in a corner. It was covered in pencil shavings and dust. He hadn’t looked at it in months. He held it delicately in his hands before opening it. 

It was plain, but he remembered you said that was what you wanted. 

“Oval, of course and silver,” You had explained to Penelope and JJ at a night out years ago. Derek and Spencer sat on the opposite side of the table, but his ears perked up at the mention of rings. 

“I like just the band,” JJ said, admiring her own ring, “And I have Henry’s birthstone, the citrine, so I didn’t need another one.”

“What kind of stone Y/N? I’d love a pink diamond! Or a ruby! Imagine!” Penelope gushed. 

You shook your head, “I’d take cubic zirconia, if it was coming from the right guy.”

Both Penelope and JJ stuck their tongues out, “Nuh-uh!” Garcia said, grabbing her phone to scroll through more pinterest photos. 

“Spence will be getting you a diamond.”

You rolled your eyes and whispered, “Don’t jinx it JJ! And I don’t want a diamond.”

Her mouth dropped, “No diamond? Really.”

“Diamonds aren’t ethically sourced.”

“Lab grown! Get lab grown!” PG piped it, showing you a picture of a ring, just an oval in a plain silver setting. 

“That! That’s the one!” You said and Garcia giggled, going on a rant about her dream wedding. 

Spencer had gotten that exact ring. Lab grown, oval, classic, beautiful. It was what you wanted, and you deserved everything you ever wanted. 

Spencer looked at the notepad. He could tell you had a hard time picking an item for this letter. He knows this letter is the end, the other two are the epilogue of  a story he wishes you kept writing. Crystal Cove is the place where he had planned on asking you to marry him, but it ended up being the place where your love story ended. He tossed the notebook to the side and decided that the souvenir for this letter was now going to be this ring. This ring that sparkled and shined, even in the dull incandescent lights of his kitchen. This ring that belonged on your finger, and not in the back of a drawer. This ring that you didn’t even know existed, but if you had, maybe you’d still be together. 

“I did buy three maternity bathing suits, and you bought shorts. Spencer Reid in shorts. It was going to be the best trip ever. We were going to snorkel and look at sea turtles and sunbathe and drink virgin piña coladas by the ocean. We were going to get couples massages and spend every moment loving and appreciating each other.

The actual trip? Much different than the one we had planned on paper, but let’s first discuss that time between the hospital and the trip. 

It was four weeks. Four weeks of me sitting at home while you were off at work. Four weeks of the door opening and Derek walking through, not you. And on the odd chance that it was you opening the door, you’d be appearing at odd hours of the night to grab a new suit or a file or a snack and then getting back in your shitty car and going to your apartment. Each time I heard that comforting sound of your satchel hitting the floor, I’d crawl out of the cave of blankets I was in to find you, and you’d act like I wasn’t even there. 

For the first few days, you asked me how I was and if I was feeling better, then you’d check your phone and wave goodbye. After that, I was lucky if you’d say hello, then I was lucky if I even got a glimpse of you. You never held me. You never kissed me. You never told me you loved me.

I got all my information about you from Derek. Every day I texted you, “Have a good day at work! Talk soon?” And everyday you didn’t answer, so I’d ask Derek if you were okay. He’d always tell me what you were doing. Usually you would take a stack of files of cases to a dark room and make preliminary profiles to send back to the departments, alone. I’d tell him thank you, and the next day would be the same nonsense. 

Those four weeks dragged. It was like every minute was an hour and everyday was a year. I was healing, even without you, everyday I felt better and better. But that’s relative to the day before. I haven’t felt ‘good’ yet. I haven’t felt ‘happiness’ yet. But I will. And I’m counting on that. 

My mandatory leave was four weeks, and at the end of that Hotch called me in for a ‘mandatory psychological evaluation.’ I didn’t tell you about it because you weren’t speaking to me, and even when you did you were angry and snappy and rude.  

I didn’t pass the evaluation. Even though the BAU wrote those damn questions, I still didn’t pass. When my four weeks were up, you were expecting me at work, and I never showed. You didn’t notice how not okay I was because you were too busy handling your own feelings, which I understand. You have to take care of yourself first, deal with your own trauma before touching anyone else’s. So, your trauma was none of my business, a concept you should've applied to my healing process. 

I was supposed to come back on a Monday and when I didn’t show you came to the house. You opened the door and yelled my name. It was a sound I hadn’t heard in weeks, and it felt good. I thought you had finally come home. I thought you were finally ready to heal with me, but you weren’t. You were there to judge me.

I think I ran to where you were, a smile on my face that I didn’t think I was capable of making, “Hey!”

You looked so put together in a neatly pressed suit, but your eyes exposed you. They were bloodshot and the bags were so large they almost reached the end of your nose. I had on one of your shirts; it was comforting at the time. Not so much anymore.  

You looked me up and down, a small scowl forming on your face, “Where were you today?”

I took a deep breath, and I lied, because lying to you felt easier than telling you the truth. The truth that I was not deemed stable enough to come back, even though I wanted to. I needed to be distracted. I was ashamed, scared, confused. 

“I-I didn’t go.”

“Didn’t go? You’ll get fired Y/N.”

I sighed, “No, my leave got extended.”

I could feel the way your eyes bore into my skull as I dodged eye contact. 

“Extended?! It’s been four weeks.”

“I’m not ready!” I desperately wanted you to see through it. I thought I was ready, but the papers disagreed.

“Hotch let you do that?” Your voice was increasing and I found myself inching away from you.

“He encouraged it!” Another lie. He didn’t ‘encourage’ it. He forced me.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag and opening the door again.

“You’re leaving? Spencer c’mon I-”

You cut me off by slamming that door in my face. 

That’s when I started closing myself off. I started dreading the sound of your feet against the floor at three am. I started to put my own walls up, but they would dull in comparison to the Great Wall of Spencer you built around yourself to keep me out.”

Spencer was always good at putting walls up. In fact, you were the only person to ever get him to take (almost) all of them down. There’s a side of him he doesn’t show anyone, a side of him that he reserves for himself, and when something happens, that’s where he goes. He goes to the corner of his brain where he feels safe, and the walls come up to protect him.

And in those last four weeks, he did just that. He put the walls up, shut you out, and decided that was better. Except it wasn’t better, it just was easier. It was easier for him to bypass you and find a new outfit for work tomorrow. It was easier for him to disappear in the office until the odd hours of the morning. It was easier for him to hide away from you, because when he’s exposed he always gets hurt. It was easier to act like everything was fine, even though everything was the opposite of fine. 

He never needed to go to the house, part of him was drawn there like a moth to a lantern. He was drawn to you. As much as he didn’t want to see those four walls, he still needed to check on you. He just did it in his own damaged way. He’d get a glimpse of you in old sweats and a shirt with a hole in it, hair a mess and mascara from two weeks ago adding to your eye bags and he’d be reminded that he couldn’t be there for you. He would never be enough, and he’d retreat into the comfort of solitude. 

He was so preoccupied with being hurt, that he didn’t realize just how much he hurt you too. 

“I had forgotten about the stupid trip, and so had you. You were too preoccupied with work and not speaking to me and I was preoccupied with crying and trying to speak to you. I only remembered the trip when I got an email from the airline about the flight, they had to move our seats or something stupid. I decided that was a reason for you to actually need to speak to me like I was a person, so I took advantage of it. 

I intercepted you at home one day. I had been sitting in the kitchen waiting for you. You came home at two am. 

“Hey,” I said, immediately as you walked through the door. You looked surprised that I was up. 

“Hi, I’m just gonna—“

“Spencer, stop. We have to talk.”

You crossed your arms, not leaving the threshold of the door, “No. I told you a million times Y/N, I don’t want to talk.”

“Not about...” I couldn’t find the words and you started up the stairs. 

“Are we going on this damn trip or not?” I said, my voice cracking from lack of use. 

You stopped, looking over the banister at me, “You didn’t cancel it?”

“I didn’t think of it until now. We’re supposed to leave in two days.”

You groaned, “Why didn’t you cancel it?”

I threw my hands up. As if all of this was my responsibility? 

 “I was preoccupied! Did you cancel your days off?”

You shook your head, rubbing your face, “No, God. Can we still get a refund?”

I was hurt that you didn’t want to go, but not surprised. As I stared at the front door from my spot at the kitchen table I decided that I was going to go no matter what. It was going to be refreshing to look at the ocean instead of an empty nursery. That would be my distraction.

 “I-I’m going. I’ll pay for your half, but I’m going. I’m losing my mind here, Spence.”

You looked at me again, still contemplating your options. 

“I get it, okay? You can’t be in this house, but neither can I. Maybe we can talk and stuff on neutral ground. I-I just want you there with me, the way it was supposed to be.”

Then you took me by surprise, you nodded, “Yeah, yeah we’ll go.”

I’m sure I lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, “Really?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Yeah, we can go Y/N.”

I was feeling lucky, so I pushed it, too hard, “Are you staying tonight?”

Your voice went from sleepy to sour, “No.”

And you vanished up the stairs, taking all my hope in us with you. 

I knew deep down it wouldn’t end well. I knew it was going to be fighting and yelling and arguing, but any time with you was good time with you at that point. And I favored the little bit of serotonin and dopamine you flood my brain with as opposed to staring at the gray walls of the kitchen alone.”

Spencer only agreed to go because he thought he was getting there. Everyday he felt a little better when he’d walk through the door, but he still wasn’t ready. He thought a week of no work and no one to talk to except you would bring the walls down. This would finally be the catalyst in a reaction that was taking far too long to complete. He also couldn’t stand the thought of you flying and spending a week alone. He felt better about you being alone here because you weren’t really alone. You had Derek visiting, Garcia dropping off baskets, phone calls from Emily, the odd visit from Rossi, and apparently phone calls to Hotch, but on that island you’d really be alone, and he was worried about how you’d handle it. 

“So two days later we got on a three hour flight to Miami, and I drove our rental car to this resort. We didn’t talk much the whole time, besides some small talk about the flight and other odd comments. It was painfully awkward, and I regretted even coming. 

We didn’t speak until I used the keycard to open the door, and we stared at the one king sized bed in the room.

“Oh,” was all you said when you realized you’d have to share with me.

“What?”

“There’s only one bed.”

I rolled my eyes, “Spencer, we’ve shared a bed for three years.”

You just stood at the door with your hands fidgeting on the handle of the suitcase, “I’ll call down and ask for a cot to be brought up.”

“A cot? Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe you, “Why come if you wouldn’t even share a bed with me? I said I’d be fine alone.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but changed your mind. 

“Great communication skills Spence. Really, I’m impressed.” You rolled your eyes and finally started to unpack your bag, “I came because I was worried about what you’d do here all alone.”

Part of me was happy you were worried, but a bigger part was annoyed, “I’ve been handling being alone fine, thanks.”

You scoffed, “Yeah. That’s why you need Derek to bring you food everyday, because you’re doing so well.”

I bit my tongue and tried to speak calmly, “Well at least someone checks on me everyday.”

That shut you right up.

The three days you were there went as follows: we slept as far apart from each other as we could, despite how badly I wanted to cuddle into your arms. We’d get up in silence, eat breakfast in silence, walk to the beach and read in silence, eat lunch and dinner in silence, and each night we’d yell at each other until we fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

Remember what I said to trigger the fight on December third, your last day there? How could you forget? It’s the fight that broke us up. 

“So, I was thinking of going to a counselor,” I said, staring at the waves lap the sand from the balcony of our room. The air felt cold for eighty degrees. But maybe that was just because the air between me and you had been cold for weeks. 

You were sitting next to me, but I could tell you were worlds away. 

“Spence,” I nudged, trying to snap you out of your daydream. 

“Hm? What?”

“I said I’m going to go to a counselor.”

You twisted your face, “A counselor? What for?”

I shrugged, “I-I think it’d be good for me. It’s a grief counselor.”

You turned to look at me, your brow covered in sweat and your eyes watery. You were incessantly bouncing your left leg, rubbing at your nose, and you seemed disinterested in every single thing I was saying or doing. In fact, you’d been acting that way since the first day you disappeared to your apartment. 

“Counselor? Yeah,” You were fidgeting, barely making eye contact. 

A feeling I can only describe as pure dread formed in my stomach. I thought I might puke, but I swallowed the feeling and kept talking, “I got a recommendation from Hotch. He said he went to Dr. Stevens after Haley died. He said it really helped.”

You were still not listening. 

“I think it’d be good if we went together.”

That finally got your undivided attention. “Together?” You snapped, “No.”

“Why not?” I said it with an air of exhaustion and despair. I was tired of this. So fucking tired of it. 

“I’m not going to a damn therapist, Y/N,” You seethed, your metal deck chair scraping against the concrete as you stood in front of me. 

The sky looked stormy, palm trees whipping in the wind as you came before me. The bags under your eyes looked like bruises, and you had on sleeves. It was eighty and you had on sleeves.

“Okay, I’ll go alone then. I think he could really help us though.”

I was giving up on fighting. I didn’t understand how when I was at my absolute low you could just keep kicking me while I was down. All I wanted was for you to go to someone and talk about it. That’s it. You were acting like I’d asked you to move a mountain for me, which, might I add, at one point you would have done. 

“He? You really think a male therapist is going to help? You lost a baby, Y/N—“

“WE,” I clarified, for what felt like the fiftieth time, “We lost a baby.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored me, “You lost a baby. How does a male therapist help you through that?”

I was angry now. It was bubbling up to the top and I thought I might explode. 

“He’s a grief counselor! He’ll help me through my GRIEF! And I think you should go because clearly you have a lot going on. You always have! You should’ve been seeing someone for years.”

“Oh, I have a lot going on?” You sneered, “Of course I have a lot going on! I go to work everyday to bring you home a paycheck so you can sit around all day and do nothing.”

I stood up, got close to your face, “I’m on leave.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that.”

You bypassed me and went inside, and my hot anger turned into wet anger and fat tears were rolling down my cheeks.

“Do you know how traumatic this was on my body? Do you? Everything hurts and you were supposed to be there! You were supposed to take four weeks off too! You were supposed to be there for me!”

“Yeah and who’s there for me!” You yelled, louder than I think you ever had; at me at least. You had thrown your suitcase on the bed, haphazardly grabbing your clothes from the drawers and shoving them in. 

“I would’ve been,” I said softly, coming up behind you to grab your arm lightly, “If you had let me.”

You pulled back, “Don’t touch me!”

I reached up to wipe my eyes and crossed my arms in front of myself defensively, “I want to be there for you, Spencer. I do. Why won’t you let me?”

You didn’t answer, because even you didn’t know why. You just stood over the suitcase, one arm on either side of it, hair matted to your sweaty face, panting and panting. 

The facts I had chosen to ignore were staring me in the face again. Or maybe I was just that oblivious. 

“I’ve never seen you like this. This isn’t you, Love,” I tried to say in my most soothing voice. The dread had clawed its way back up to the back of my throat. 

“Or maybe this is me,” you said softly, and I swear you were crying. Or maybe I hoped you were, that way we were both sobbing. That’s as close to togetherness as we could get. 

“Maybe this is who I am now, or who I’ve been all along.”

I reached out for you again, but stopped myself, “No, Spencer. The real you isn’t this angry, and bitter, and mean.”

You slammed your hands against the bed, “Yes it is!”

“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” I said sadly, shaky breaths between words, “Is that what you’ve been going to your apartment and doing?”

You turned around, skin sweaty and eyes red, “What? What are you talking about now? God, do you ever stop talking?”

I snapped, ignoring your last jab there, “Are you using?”

Your face contorted into a sour expression, “Am I using?”

“Yeah, Spencer! Are you? Because I can’t see any other reason for why you’re so irritable and sweaty and out of it! So I’ll ask you again, are you going through withdrawal?”

You looked like I had literally punched you in the gut, and I kind of had. It was a low blow, I’ll admit it, but I was seriously worried about you. If an event would trigger you, this would’ve been it. 

“What? No!”

I wasn’t sure whether or not I should believe you, but I knew I had to support you either way. I love you, even when you’re angry at me, I still love you. Even when you throw clothes and seethe at me through gritted teeth, I still love you. That’s my fatal flaw. No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, lower lip pinched between his teeth. Was he really that terrible? He didn’t remember being so spiteful. Reading it back, he understood why you thought he was high, and he had thought about it more than he cared to admit. But he hadn’t touched the stuff in seven years, and he wasn’t about to start again now.

‘No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.’ 

That line made him want to cry, hands clenching the ring box as if it were a stress ball. That line simultaneously felt like a stab in the gut and a breath of fresh air. He had given you so many reasons to walk away, and the one reason to stay was there in his palm, unused.

““It’s okay if you are. I understand this is a... hard time. I’ll support you through this,” I put my hands out to touch your chest. 

“I’m not high and haven’t been in years!” You swatted my hands down. 

“Then what the hell is going on!?” 

“I’m angry and I’m sad and I’m heartbroken!” You yelled, going back out onto the balcony to stand in the rain that had started pouring down in sheets. 

“Spencer! Stop!” I followed you out, tears mixing with rain to the point that I didn’t know which was which. 

“I’m just confused! It’s hard to see the point in all this anymore. Maybe it’s just not worth it,” You said, yelling at the ocean not at me. Rain soaked our clothes instantly. Part of me was hoping this scene would end like the ‘notebook’ we’d kiss and you’d spin me around. I guess this is kind of like the notebook, it’s a story to help you remember us. Except you don’t have Alzheimer’s and I wrote 15 letters, not 365. 

“Maybe what’s not worth it?” I was yelling too, just so you could hear me over the sound of the wind and the rain. 

“This!” You gestured between us. I felt like you knocked the air out of me, my whole body stinging. 

“But I love you!”

“All of this has made me realize that love isn’t everything! I love you too but we need more than that!”

That was the first time I’d heard you say ‘I love you’ in a month, but it was a double edged sword. I bit my lip so hard I think I started bleeding, “Love isn’t enough? Are you kidding me, Spencer?”

You swallowed thickly, “No! I’m not kidding. I’ve never been more serious!”

“So what? That’s it?” I said it quietly, but I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to scream that you were being an idiot. You were being ridiculous. You were being unnecessarily cruel. But I didn’t. I was tired and water logged. I had finally given up.

You ran your hands through your hair, “No–it’s–we we aren’t over Y/N. I’m just saying that it’s gonna take more than love to fix us.”

“Well maybe if you were ever home, we could actually try. But you aren’t. You’re always gone! So explain to me how we’re going to fix this. What’s it gonna take Spencer? What do you want from me?”

You took a deep breath, uttering words I was so sick of hearing, “We need space and time.”

“Space? Time? It’s been a month Spencer! I let you go to work. I let you spend every day at your damn apartment. I stopped calling. I stopped checking in. How much more space and time do you want?”

“Thirty-four days,” you mumbled, just so I could barely hear. The thunder rolled, mostly drowning it out. 

“What was that?” 

“It’s been THIRTY-FOUR days, Y/N. Thirty-four. I don’t know how you expect me to be okay after only thirty-four days.”

“I don’t expect you to be fine! I expect you to speak to me! To look at me! I want to go to bed crying and have you there next to me. I want to be there for you when you’re crying. The only way we get better is if we do this TOGETHER!”

The anger looked like it melted off of you, and I took that as my opportunity to approach. I threw my arms around your soaked body as you shook with sobs into my shoulder. I held you like my life depended on it, because in a way it did. You wrapped your arms around me too, and everything felt okay. We were standing in the pouring rain, holding each other as we cried, and somehow I felt more okay than I had in the thirty-four days prior. It felt like maybe you were coming back to me. 

You weren’t. 

We stood like that for what felt like hours, and eventually I pulled you inside. I wish I didn’t. I wish we stayed there, holding each other in the rain until the sun came up and dried us off. I foolishly thought the rain washed our sins away. 

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, my head on your shoulder as we wrapped ourselves in towels, “I promise.”

You shrugged me off of you, going back to packing your bag. 

“Spencer, stop packing, please,” I begged, grabbing the items you were putting in and taking them back out. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you said plainly, taking a shirt and putting it back in. 

“I-I thought—“

“Thought what, Y/N? That because I cried to you and told you I loved you that we were magically okay?” 

I stammered, “No. No! But I thought it meant we were in this together now.” 

“You just accused me of relapsing an hour ago.”

“And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but that’s not a reason you should go,” I pleaded, reaching for you again. I thought if you walked away I’d never see you again.

“You don’t trust me,” your voice cracked. 

“No, Love, I—“

“Don’t call me that.”

The pain in my chest bloomed, sending a wave of heartache through my entire body. A heartache I still haven’t been able to shake. It’s still there. Some days it's a thunder crack and sometimes it's a low grumble, but it’s always there. The rain hasn't stopped.  

I hadn’t even realized that you were completely packed until you zipped the suitcase shut. 

“You’re really leaving?” 

You stopped at the door, hand on the handle, to turn and face me. I didn’t need to use my profiling skills to see how much pain you were in, and my pain doubled at the sight. I’ve always been an empath when it comes to you, feeling what you feel like it’s my own. 

“I am.”

I crossed the room and threw my arms around you, sobbing into your chest. To my surprise, you wrapped your arms around me lightly. 

“I understand,” I said, looking into your eyes, “We can’t be there for each other the way we need to.”

You nodded into my shoulder, “Stay. When you get home from this we’ll talk. I just need a few more days.”

I shook my head, finally coming to the realization that we didn’t work anymore. We weren’t healthy anymore. 

“Don’t bother. The writing’s on the wall, Spence,” my voice wavered, and I regretted every word as they left my mouth, “I’ve been waiting for that person from the hospital to come home to me. I’ve been waiting for the Spencer who lends me his shirts and fact dumps and eats IHOP and ice cream with me to come home.”

I felt your breath stop under my arms, “But that Spencer, the Spencer I love, isn’t here anymore. We need to be alone.”

I felt you shake with tears under me, and that triggered mine, “We have to break up.”

I wish I never said it. I wish I gave you those few days, but we both know those few days would’ve turned into weeks and months and we would’ve ended up here anyway. I wish you didn’t let me say them. I wish you kissed me to shut me up and told me I was being stupid. I wish I didn’t watch you go down that elevator, tears on your cheeks. I wish I didn’t spend the other four days in an empty king sized bed, crying for you. 

I realize now that you changed. I did too. Instead of wishing for the old you, I should’ve learned to love the new you. I think I would’ve, if I had given it a chance. Actually, I know I would’ve. I think I’d fall in love with every version of you that could ever exist or has ever existed. You and I, we’re meant to be together. 

I know you probably don’t believe in it, but I like to think that we’re twin flames; we’re two halves of one soul that somehow ended up in two bodies and constantly pull to find each other again. I’ve read a lot about them recently. Twin flames don’t necessarily end up together. They can even just be two people with an intense friendship. They’re people who help each other grow, even if that means they’re only in your life for a short time. I like to think that we are that case, and that in some parallel universe I’m with you and we have our daughter and we’re happy. I just wish that I was in that universe now. 

I know it’s for the best that we went to the damn Crystal Cove and broke up. I’m sure someday in the future I’ll be pleased with that decision, but for now, I still regret it.”

Spencer stared at the notepad, eyes flicking between that in his left hand and the ring box in his right. He took the ring out and admired it in the light. It glinted and glimmered, delicately refracting light onto the cabinets. He slid it halfway down his ring finger because that’s as far as it would go. He imagined it was on your slender, perfectly manicured hand instead of his, but an ache formed where his heart was when he realized it’d never end up here. 

Spencer grabbed the notebook. It was unlined and the paper felt flimsy and thin. He got up from the floor to find a pencil in the drawer the ring had been hidden in, and took it out to scrawl his own letter to go with his own memento. A sixteenth letter for a sixteenth item you had no idea even existed. 

“Y/N,

I’d like to consider this letter sixteen, to go with the engagement ring that’s in my palm. I bought this ring the day after we ate dinner at Rossi’s and showed everyone tiny FBI onesies. I have your perfect ring here in my hand, a plain silver band with a lab-grown diamond in a four-prong setting in the center, just like you told Garcia you wanted. I should’ve given it to you the day I bought it, but I waited until the perfect opportunity presented itself. 

What you didn’t know about the trip to the Crystal Cove was that I was going to propose to you there. I was going to get down on one knee in the sand at sunset after dinner. I even had a whole speech planned. I was going to tell you that I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you, or that anyone would ever love me the way that you do. I was going to say that it amazes me how everyday, I wake up and love you more than I did the night before. And everyday I think it’s be impossible to love you and our daughter more than I do right now. I wanted to tell you that I want to wake up every morning and feel that for the rest of my life. I want the good, the bad, the ugly, I want it all. I want Korean film festivals and IHOP breakfasts and to talk to the moon. I want tubs of ice cream and overly sentimental flowers hanging from the wall. Most of all I wanted to say that I want to spend every day of my life making you happy. 

That speech still applies today. I still love you enough to ask you, but I don’t think you love me enough to say yes. 

It’s okay. It really is. I haven’t decided what to do yet, but if you do read this, just know that it’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay. I’m not the bitter, angry man I was at the Crystal Cove anymore. I changed again, and I hope you’re right. I hope we are twin flames and your soul will come looking for mine, and I hope it happens in this universe, not the infinite parallels that may or may not exist. I miss you and I want nothing more than for you to come back. Come home, Love, please come home.

-SR”

He stared at the notebook page, before tearing it off and folding it in half, placing it in his pocket for safekeeping. He went on his computer and bought the cheapest one-way ticket to Seattle that he could find. He needed to see you. He needed you to see this letter, see this ring. He needed to make this right.

The flight was a red eye, leaving at midnight, so he’d get to the Seattle field office by eight. He looked at the leather watch and saw that it was nearly nine. He decided had to finish, and he had to finish now, as he grabbed letter #14. 

PART 14

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Taglist!

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[skeletalroses]

I was going to submit this anonymously to one of the bigger aspec blogs but it got so long that I’d feel like a pain in the ass. I’m posting this because I’ve recently landed in a bit of a difficult situation in the vein of Just Aroace Things, and I’m not sure what to do or even how to feel. I’m hoping to get some advice from the community re: a topic that comes up from time to time---navigating roommate/housing situations as an aroace, particularly when your potential roommate’s romance fucks you over.

I met my best friend, A, our sophomore year of college when we got paired up via roommate lottery. We clicked right away and had a blast living together. Unfortunately it only lasted a year, since the best option for my major was to transfer to another campus while for her it was best to stay put. We’ve known each other for nine years now and live in different states, but we visit regularly and had always talked about living together again once we both moved away from our parents.

I’m aroace, sex- and romance-repulsed. A is super considerate and supportive of this. She even discovered recently that she’s demisexual (which she learned about while researching the symbolism of the asexual flag! On her own, completely unprompted! Because she thought it would help her understand me more! See? Super supportive!). She is, however, very, very alloromantic. Up until now this has just been one more facet of our overall odd-couple dynamic (I’m an Addams and she’s a Disney fairy), which has always been something we’ve laughed at and reveled in.

A couple months ago, however, A moved out of her parents’ place and in with her boyfriend of a few years. I’m still with my parents, which suits me fine for the time being, but I eventually want to move out. Like I said, A and I have long talked about living together. We never made any specific plans, but I’ve asked her before to verify that yes, this is a thing we’re both Actually down to do when the time’s right. But that was a good while ago, before she moved in with Boyfriend. We visited last weekend and I brought up the subject again, because I’ve been unsure about it since that whole development.

“Feel free to say no; I won’t be offended; I just want to know how my options stand at this point. We’ve talked in the past about rooming together again. With Boyfriend in the picture now, is that still on the table?”

A’s answer: “Boyfriend has a lot of anxiety, so probably not. Sorry. He doesn’t even like having his family stay over. You’re welcome to stay a few days but not for like weeks on end.”

This was a calm conversation had over cocktails in the mall. She asked to make sure my parents weren’t threatening to kick me out or anything; I assured her that they weren’t, and I wasn’t moving anytime soon, and it’s okay that my rooming with her is out.

Only I’m not that okay with it. I wasn’t confident she’d say yes, but I did kind of think it was likely, and moreover I’m realizing how much I was unconsciously banking on that plan. I’ve been sans income during the pandemic, and I have a fuckton of economic anxiety to begin with. A’s a STEM major in a big city who easily found a solidly-paying job right out of college. She gets promotions and raises and shit. I’m a humanities major in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere where all my impressive qualifications (which I do have) can’t get me anything with a living wage below management level, let alone something in my field. And I’m never going to have that built-in cohabitant in the form of a romantic or sexual partner that allos like A can take for granted. A was the person I could split costs with so as to maybe live semi-decently with someone compatible. Without her, my chances of having that have plummeted.

And it’s all because she got a romosexual partner. This guy who’s known her half as long as I have; who never worked her through the trials and eventual breakup of her previous long-term, engaged-to-be-engaged relationship; who has himself caused her massive amounts of grief, suffering, and sometimes outright danger through his inability to competently handle the drama in his personal life that should never have touched her, all while her mother would write letters to me asking me to come visit because, actual quote, A only smiles when I’m around. He was the reason she would be too depressed to function, and I had to long-distance therapize her through it even though she refused to take the basic step of leaving this grown-ass man at least until he got his shit together, because “he needs me.”

It’s like this dude calls the shots in A’s and my relationship now. I hadn’t seen her in seven months because every time we planned a weekend to hang out, it’d get canceled because Boyfriend wanted to go see his family or something (and he can’t do that without her, I fucking guess). Even this last visit got cut down to overnight when it was supposed to be the long weekend, because Boyfriend wanted to make other plans. And now my best option for future living arrangements is apparently down the shitter because of him. It’d have been one thing if A doesn’t want to live with me anymore because she and he need their allo space or whatever the fuck couples do (still amatonormative and lousy for me). But as far as I understand, it’s not even that. It’s not her. It’s Boyfriend. A and I can be planning something for the two of us for weeks, for months, for years, then it all goes away in a minute because ehh, it kinda cramps Boyfriend’s style. I’m, as A called me, her “best friend soulmate.” I Was Here First. I never fucking made her cry. But I can’t kiss her or fuck her, so I automatically take a backseat to the one who can. I don’t need to be her Number One, but I don’t appreciate being pushed aside at Boyfriend’s every whim.

A, I’m sure, doesn’t realize how it looks from my angle. I know she cares about me and doesn’t want me to feel devalued. She’s just an oblivious alloro. I’m not even sure Boyfriend’s intentionally hogging her. (To be clear, I don’t think he’s a bad person; I’ve only met him a handful of times but I reliably clock my friends’ truly shitty partners on less. I haven’t heard about any crises in the past year or so, so I guess he’s finally managing his baggage well enough that A’s life can go smoothly and not suck.) I’m not unsympathetic to anxiety either; I’m chronically mentally ill and I’ve had my share. And I get we’re little more than strangers at this point. But I hate that he can just singlehandedly veto me and A rooming together ever. It’s much more of a blow to my likely quality of life than he or A---or tbh even I did, before this point---realize.

I hate feeling like I’m being jealous and needy. Maybe A just genuinely likes him better and it’s not only an amatonormative thing. I know I’m not entitled to live with her; it’s not like we promised or anything. But the option getting shut down really made me realize how much I resent not having it, and how much I kind of resent Boyfriend in general.

Which brings me to the asking-for-advice part, to the maybe two people who’ve read this far. Aspecs on here have talked about how amatonormativity fucks over single people and especially aros in terms of housing and life in general. Has anyone dealt with a situation like mine? How do you manage the amatonormative behavior of people in your life snatching your prospects out from under you, or feeling like it has? Is my reaction even reasonable? If so, how should I bring it up to A? This would be the closest thing we’ve ever had to a conflict, and also I’m...not great at being vulnerable. I can’t even vagueblog about these topics because my social media presence is limited to Tumblr and hers to Facebook. Hell, maybe I should just forget it for now, since I’m not changing housing anytime soon anyway, and cross that bridge when I get to it. I wouldn’t ask her to leave him, since their relationship seems to be going a lot smoother than it had been. But goddamn, am I filled with aroace salt about this.