#I was feeling way more burnt out at the end of last semester than I anticipated and I haven’t really been able to write since last March

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when you're desperate for a quick shower, the last thing you expected was for it to last this too long, or for you to be accompained by a boy.

word count: 4,6k warnings: shower sex, oral sex (m receiving), handjob, language

a/n: it's 4am and I need to wake up for work at 6am, but I promised myself i'd finish it today (or yesterday) and so i did. not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes. hope you enjoy, much love ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Throbbing pain consumed your frontal lobe

It was way past the usual time practice ended. Way past. All your teammates stood around the coach for a prolonged scolding session after the team had lost the past two matches in a not so nice —extremely bad—, manner.

The season had barely started and you could see in everyone’s eyes they were all already exhausted. And so were you.

Your legs burnt from all the exercise, feeling like your muscles were about to rip open at any moment. Your scalp itched, as the sweat settled on your hair, leaving it oily and stinky. Gosh, you needed a shower.

Time did not seem to pass. No, the coach did not seem to ever want to stop talking.

Taking a glimpse to your right, you catch sight of your best friend impatiently standing on the bleaches. One of her legs shaking and her arms crossed on her chest. “Shit” you whispered to yourself, as you knew another scolding was doomed the minute you stepped out of the court.

You didn’t know why you’d agreed to attend Johnson’s party with her. You’re upset over the team's recent performances, crowded with school work, and your parents had been bugging you about their holiday plans all week. Clear to say, your head was too full to attend a party tonight, and you were solely going for the unquestionable loyalty you had towards your friends.

Nessie had been annyong you the entire month about this party. Johnson was this frat guy she shared a few classes with, and she had been drooling over him since the semester started. So when he personally invited her to tonight’s party, it became the only thing she talked about for weeks and sealed the next steps into her imaginary relationship with the guy.

When the coach finally decided that he had enough of calling you all shitty athletes and dismissed you for the day, a swarm of players desperately headed out to the changing rooms in hopes of a well deserved shower. 

You, on the other hand, were stopped in your way by your friend, who had rushed towards you as soon as she heard the coach say “See you tomorrow”.

“Let’s go?” she pouted, making you roll your eyes at her very evident desperation.

“I just need to take a shower.” you bemoaned, feeling disgusted by the sweat and the sticky sensation all over your body. You had been practicing for hours, rolling on the floor, running around. You just wanted to get rid of all traces of sweat and dirt from your body. Her pout, however, only grew larger. “Do you really want me to show up all stinky to this party?”

In all honesty, you didn’t really want to show up at all. But you had promised, and your damned loyalty wouldn’t allow you to back off now. She wanted you to go, or more so need you there for moral support, either if he came onto her and she didn’t know what to do, or the unspoken possibilities of him ignoring her or finding him with someone else.

“You do stink a little. Please, be quick” she moaned, hands together in a praying position, and you gave her an amused smile and a push towards the side, clearing your way out of where you stood. 

Following in the direction the hoard of girls had just walked through, you jogged your way to the locker room in hopes of finally taking that well deserved shower. However, you hadn’t counted on the handball team also practicing till the late hours of the night, and now the locker room looked more like an electronics store on black friday than an university bathroom.

Each and everyone of the shower cabins were full, and ladies lined outside its doors waiting for the moment they’d be free. It would take you a lot longer than you had imagined, and you could already feel your best friend fuming outside if you had to make her wait any longer than you had promised. 

Grabbing your bags, you walked out and in her direction. “Let’s go. I’ll change in your car.”

“But you haven’t showered?” she inquired.

“We’re never gonna make it in time. Locker rooms are full.” you stated, taking her hand and trying to walk away, to which she held her ground and refused to move.

“You’re not going like this,” her features softened, and she looked at you with kindness in her eyes. “You want to shower, so go.” she ordered, arms crossing over the deep cleavage of her bright red top, in sort of a motherly way. “I’ll wait.”

“Johnson is waiting for you” you tried to persuade, but she shook her head again.

“Party is not ending anytime soon. And looking on the brighter side, we’ll get him thinking of me all the time, wondering if we’re coming or not, you know.”

You gave her a smile, admiring how her little mind worked. Fixing the bag on your shoulder, you turned to go inside the room you once were, but seeing girls hanging around the entrance made you give up instantly. “But, there’s so many people. We could go home and shower there in the same amount of time.”

“And cross the city twice?” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “Isn’t there another place you can shower?”

“There’s the boys locker room.” you remembered.

“Are there any boys’ sports teams practicing today?”

“Not that I remember.” And holding your hand, she dragged you around the corridors towards the boys’ locker room. 

The two of you sneaked around every corner, checking to see if anyone was around. Failing to meet anybody, you arrived at the room in no time. It was empty and you could hear your lone footsteps echoing on the gray walls.

“This smells so much of testosterone.” Nessie noted, looking around the room like a little kid in Disneyland, but face scrunched in disgust.

“It’s the boy’s locker room, Nessie. Of course it’d smell like that.” you laughed, stacking your clothes and a towel over the door of the stall you had chosen to shower in, on the far corner of the locker room. When you fish for your shampoo and conditioner from inside your bag, however, you’re met with the complete absence of both. “Nessie…?” you called, hearing a hum in response. “I forgot my shampoo and conditioner.”

“Are you serious!?” she screamed, and not daring to look at the side to see her, you could picture her standing there with her arms on her waist, and the biggest annoyed expression on her face. “I have some in the car, just wait right there.” she sighted, immediately running past you on her way to the door.

“It’s not like I can’t go anywhere.” you tried to lighten the mood as you heard her footsteps leaving your earshot. “Oh! And get me soap too! Nessie, I love you!”

You watched her disappear through the large double doors leading to the corridors, the rapid sounds of her footsteps bouncing off the walls and into your ears, a big contrast to the otherwise silent room you were left in once she was gone from earshot.

A deep exhale left your lungs. The silence and emptiness, somehow, a much more comfortable ambience. Still wrapped around a towel, you grabbed your bag from where it stood on one of the benches, leaving the locker area and making way to an empty shower stall. 

Gladly, the university opted out of open showers and gave students individual stalls instead, thankful for the privacy and the chance to feel a bit like home while getting cleaned. Entering through the grey door, you lay your bag on a small shelf and hang your towel on a hook beside it. The humidity already making your skin sticky.

The warm water falling on your body feels like a pain reliever, as your muscles immediately relax and the temperature helps in keeping you cozy. Breathy, tired moans escaped your lips while you enjoyed the sensation, entering a bubble of solitude, warmth and peace.

With your eyes closed as you let water fall down your face, you almost didn’t notice the sounds around you. Your head was far away from that bathroom, thinking of a place where mean spirited, annoying coaches and teammates that loved to complain about your smallest mistakes did not exist, but the far sound of engines losing power broke you from dreamland.

Opening your eyes to complete darkness, you feel a pit form in your stomach and your heart skipped out of beat. It wasn’t like you were scared of the dark, but the thought of being alone in the dark exactly where you were, sure made you a tidy bit nervous.

Grabbing your towel from the hook, you loosely wrapped it around yourself. “Hello?” you called out, in hopes your friend would have already returned, but the echoing of your voice through the room was enough of a response: you were indeed alone. “Hello?” you called once more, head peeking out of the shower box to find nothing but darkness.

Stepping outside, your wet feet met the cold stone floors, leaving behind puddles as you ventured your way into the darkness. The sound of dripping water adding to the tension and the weird feeling you got on the base of your stomach. Shit. This could not get any worse.

A soft, barely audible, screech sounded from right in front of you, making you freeze in place. Your breath heavied, and you tried to focus on hearing every sound in that room, fight or flight instincts ready to act, only catching the sound of more dripping water from the same direction of the screeching sound.

The locker area seemed to be even darker than the space you were before. Extending your hands to guide you through the dimness, you finally felt the wooden touch of the lockers as you slowly turned the corner into the empty area.

However, arms still extended in front of you, you suddenly hit something standing in your way… It wasn’t hard like the concrete pillars or the wood of the lockers, it was rather soft, smooth, cold and slightly wet. Sliding your hand over it, you suddenly found a crack and… 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” you screamed, stepping back swiftly and hitting your back against something hard, losing balance and falling ass first onto the floor. “Ugh”

“Are you alright?” you heard a deep masculine voice fill the room from where your arms had just reached, but you were too scared out of your mind to form any sort of coherent answer. If your scream a few moments earlier didn’t give away that you were not a boy, you wouldn’t be giving him anymore hints you were not the kind meant to be using this room. “Hello? Are you dead?” he called out one more time.

“No!” you replied and immediately covered your mouth. But what the hell kind of question was that?

“Good, I wouldn’t want someone’s cause of death to be touching my butt.”

For that, you were thankful all you could see was black, as whoever it was would not see your cheeks turning redder than they’d ever been. And then you realized, upon feeling the sticky coldness of the tiles on your butt, that you were ass naked on the floor. But not only ass naked, full naked, as your towel had fallen somewhere after your scare.

“Are you alright?” he asked again. “If you don’t know, I’m extending my hand to help you up.”

Closing your eyes shut, you mentally slapped yourself for getting into this situation, and mentally punched your friend for convincing you to get there in the first place. 

Making sure to avoid his stretched arms, you pushed yourself forward on your knees, failing to stand up on the wet puddle you’d formed on the floor.

As if the universe was conspiring against you, though, the lights suddenly were turned on, and when you looked up, you were face to “face” with a large bulk hidden under a white towel. Looking further up, you met with deep blue eyes that made you lose balance once more.

“You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?” he questioned, one eyebrow popping up. But you never got a chance to reply, as both your eyes shifted to the coming sound from out the door. 

Multiple voices screaming out incoherent words you were too nervous to decipher. “Oh shit.” you heard from above your head, and suddenly felt a hold on your upper arm, as the floor quickly moved further from you. “Here, take this.” the boy handed you his towel, exposing himself while he desperately dragged you from your frozen position.

Shoving you inside your shower booth, he disappeared for a second before joining you inside.

“What are you doing?” you asked exasperated, holding both your towel and your eyes for dear life.

“Saving your ass?” he replied, pushing your head down so you were sitting on the floor once more. “Get low or they’ll see you.”

The voices only got louder, as what you now suspected were the basketball team joined you in the changing rooms.

“Can’t you guys have the decency of not throwing your towels on the floor?” you heard someone scream from outside, finding out where your towel had made it to after slipping away from your grip.

A soft chuckle grabbed your attention, and you looked up from your place in the corner of the booth to find the boy who had just saved you from total embarrassment with a huge smirk glued on his lips.

“What are you laughing at?” you mouthed.

“You.” he mouthed back, dramatically accentuating his lip movements while pointing his finger at you as you only pouted in return. Throwing his head back in a silent laugh, you stopped to notice the white strand of hair bouncing along his head movements and hanging on his wet forehead. “What are you doing in the boys locker room anyways?”

“It thought it was empty.” you answered sharply, trying to speak as low as you could, but the boy grew his eyes at you, placing a finger on his lips to shut you up.

A shadow appeared from beneath the door, and soon someone tried to open the door to your stall. Freaked out, you instinctively hid further into your corner, while the boy rushed to hold the door closed.

“Kinda busy, mate.” he warned, resting his body weight on the door.

“Wha... Who is it?” asked the voice from outside.

“It’s Jason Todd. From weightlifting?” 

Upon finally knowing the name of today’s savior, you tried to scan your memory to find any recollection of that name, perhaps hearing that it once, but Jason Todd was total news to you, not so much his naked body standing right in front of you.

“Jay! Did not see you come in!” the boy from outside exclaimed.

“Mikey, hey!” Jason replied awkwardly. “Yeah, hmm… I was here before you guys arrived.”

“In the darkness?” the voice pitch got higher.

“Vibes and shit.” he told, looking at you to find your wide eyes and a look that said what the fuck more than words itself could. “Kinda liked it.” he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Alright, man. Nice shower.” As Jason thanked the guy, Mikey, in return, you watched as the shadow dissipated into the noisy room outside your door. Exhaling a deep breath you didn’t notice you were holding, you allowed relief to consume your body for a brief second.

Jason seemed to relax too, as you watched his shoulder fall down as he turned back in your direction, turning on the shower and getting under the water.

You wanted to complain. You really did, as your towel grew wetter by the second. But finally paying attention to his hanging penis just inches from you took out of your courage to say anything back at him.

To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Your face must have looked bright red, like a firemen’s truck, because god damn it, there was a naked man showering right beside you.

Holding your towel, now soaked in water, tighter to your chest, you promised yourself not to look, not to glimpse, not even peek at your side for as long as this torturous experience had to last. You knew soon Nessie would come back, and she would find a way to get you out of there. Or so you wished.

When a drop of white foam fell on your cheek, the strong smell of coconut filled your nostrils, forcing you to look up in exasperation. ”Are you fucking for real?!” you whisper-screamed, as you watched him wash the shampoo off his hair.

“Might as well make the most out of this situation.” he simply shrugged, leaving wide eyed and angry.

Shaking your head, you first caught a glimpse of that same colored water falling down his extremely toned calves, and followed their way up to where his legs met his torso, then the well molded line that led to his groin.

Your eyes fell once more, this time for longer, on his member, thick, flaccid but already extensive, and you swore your mouth watered. Swallowing dry, you daren't look up any further, promising yourself to keep your eyes glued at the door. But a scoff brought your attention higher up.

Jason’s eyes held yours for what felt like minutes, darked than you remembered, as his face was decorated with a devilish smirk that had your core feeling… things. He looked at you from under his lashes, trapping you, holding you down without even touching your body. Then, he shifted on his feet, moving his body just slightly in your direction.

You knew what he wanted. You also knew what you wanted, too. 

Biting your bottom lip, trying to hold yourself and your thoughts, you wondered if that would even be a good idea. But you were already fucked anyways, might as well make the expression a reality.

With one more look at the gray door, you hoped, prayed, it kept you safe. Looking up to meet Jason’s darkened eyes, you made sure to hold your gaze on his, looking at him with feigned innocence, with dirt filled intentions, and an almost impatient hunger. 

Letting your towel go from your hold, you get on your knees in front of him, not yet letting his eyes go.

He was not smiling anymore, eyes seemingly drowsy from just looking at yours, mouth almost hanging open, saved by the small part of his brain holding him together. And then your eyes dropped.

You noticed his dick had hardened a bit, just from looking at you, on your knees, ready to submit to him in the dirtiest place he could ever (or never) have imagined. Your breath was heavy, leaving your nose right into his member and teasing him even more.

You licked him, from the tip to the base, eyes trapped on his face and the way it contorted, head hanging back and lips trapped between his teeth. Taking a hold of him from the base, you moved your hand up and down his length, prepping him up, feeling the hardness forming in your palms before going in with your mouth.

His size quickly filled your cheeks, as you pushed him deep into your throat. He moaned loud, and your eyes warningly flashed up to meet his again, telling him to keep quiet just like he did with you before. You let him calm down before moving your head again, up and down his length, hands assisting on the parts that you couldn’t fill in your mouth.

He couldn’t moan, but his body was giving you the right answers to your touch, shaking feverishly, as you sucked him, licked him, devoured him. Oftentimes, you would feel his tip reaching your throat, making you gag and his body jolt from the sensation.

His hands wrapped around your hair, pushing you deeper, harder, as you had to let go of his member to keep yourself steady, holding his tights for support. He was fucking your throat like there was no tomorrow, your tears mixing with the water falling on your head, his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, and soon you felt the bitter taste of him release hitting your tongue.

Swallowing all, you still hang your tongue out, waiting, begging for more, but he chose to paint your breast with the last few bits of his cum, reaching his hands to massage it all over, holding and picking at your nipple while doing so, the sensation already driving you wild.

Grabbing you by the arm, he pulled you up to your feet, mouth going straight to you boobs, licking his own cum off it, sucking and biting your nipples, drawing breathy moans from deep within your throat. His mouth engulfed your entire boob, or it felt like so, as your head rolled back and he had to hold your hips so you wouldn’t fall.

Pinning you against the wall, he licked his way up your breast to your mouth, tongue going in first and trapping you in a wet, desperate kiss, as you moaned against his lips. Going their way up from your hips, making sure to explore every bit of skin, every curve on your body, his hands came to rest on your neck.

At first, delicately holding your chin up, as he continued to make out with you, sucking your tongue, leaving you breathless. Then, choking you tight while his other played with your clit.

Your body squirmed, jolted, lost all control under his touch. Looking at you through his deep blue eyes, he smirked at you, drowned in ecstasy, in pleasure he was giving you. Inserting two fingers, he moved them quickly inside of you, gluing his mouth on your again before any noise could come out of it.

Quickly, you hit your high and came all over his fingers, as he continued to finger you through it all, slowing down just a little bit at a time.

Letting you ride out your high, he watched you carefully, the hand leaving your neck to hold you by the hips. Lifting his hand up to his lips, he licked them off your orgasm, going back to wet his fingers again, this time placing them on your lips. You sucked them off just like he had done before, and he groaned right before your face.

Pulling your legs around his hips, Jason looked back over his shoulder, staring at the door making sure it was still closed, before looking at you, hand moving up and down his member. He stared at you, eyes meeting each other for the billionth time, and he nodded, asking for permission.

You gave him your dirtiest smirk, arching your back to meet his groin with your pussy and he quickly inserted his tip in you. Slowing, as if trying to drive you crazy, he pushed inside. Once he was fully in, you could feel your walls stretching, trying to fit him all, getting used to the thickness. It hurt a bit, having grown unused to the sensation since the last time you had sex, but he was sweet, kissing you slowly till you gave him any indication to continue.

Wrapping your arms over his shoulder, you pulled him closer, speeding up your kiss and moving your hips around his cock. He let you lead the moment for as long as you could, assisting in holding you up, but when he felt your movements weakening he held you harder against the wall as he thrusted deep inside you.

You were glad for the water, and the many boys screaming and making noises outside, that your own sounds were ignored by everyone else but you two.

Jason’s fingers were printed on where he held you up, still sucking your tongue, as your hands marked his back in what you wish was forever.

His thrusts grew faster, needier, and he struggled to keep quiet. It didn’t take long till he creamed your walls, biting your lip to hold his moan. You felt the silvery taste of blood, but you didn’t want him to stop. And so he didn’t, searching for your release through sloppy thrust and a finger rubbing at your clit.

“J-jay… I’m gonna cum.” you desperately said, begging him for help in not screaming your high out to the entire locker room to hear. Licking and sucking at your throat, he had to quickly move back up and land his lips on yours, as you came all over his dick.

You two kissed for a while longer, bodies weak but a hunger to continue for even longer. 

He let legs fall back to the floor with care, caressing the spot where his fingerprints were printed on. It was gonna be purple by the morning, but you didn’t care at all. 

When his lips left yours, he let out a chuckle, enjoying every second of your neediness. Jason was going down, kissing the base of you torso, when a loud scream came from outside, stealing your attention from his warm lips.

“OH MY GOD, THERE’S AN NBA PLAYER AT THE FRONT OF THE COMPLEX?!” screamed a female voice, as like kids running after the ice cream truck, you heard footsteps, doors banging and questions of “who?” and “where?” being throwing around.

You pushed Jason aside, recognizing that scream even with a misty head. “Y/n?” you heard Nessie call. “Y/n, please tell me you’re alive!”

“Nessie, I’m here.” you replied, hearing she thank God and another 10 different entities altogether.

“Let’s go, before they realize no NBA player would find themselves in this hell hole.”

Turning back, you bumped into Jason’s chest, who wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Wouldn’t she let us finish?” he begged, mouth traveling above yours.

“Jay” you tried to form anything, any sentence, but his presence, his existence, making you drowsy. “I can’t risk it. I need to go.”

He couldn’t let you, crashing your lips once, twice, three times, before you had to push him away, with not much success.

“I’ll be here every practice, every…”

“Volleyball practice?” you completed, arching your eyebrows.

“Yeah, every fucking volleyball practice.” he said between kissing and marking your neck. “Waiting for you, in the ladies bathroom if you want.”

You gave him a chuckle, trying to untangle him from your body, although you desperately wanted to stay. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” His head bobbed up, looking sad all of a sudden. “You can meet anywhere else that you want, but let’s leave locker rooms behind.”

“I’ll hold you on that promise.” he said, eyebrowns up challengely. “Y/n.”

Your head rolled back at the mere way he pronounced your name, almost failing to leave, almost dropping yourself in his arms again, when Nessie called you once again.

“I need to go.” you told him, grabbing your bag and the rest of your stuff from the shelf.

“Y/n.” Jason called.

“Jay, I’m serious” you moaned, not holding your beaming smile.

“Y/n.” he repeated, as you opened the stall door.

“Ja…” 

“Your towel.” he interrupted, holding you your damped towel as you noticed you didn’t have anything covering your body.

Taking it from his hands and wrapping them around your body, you didn’t even seem to notice its wetness, and neither did Jason, you two still immersed in the early moments to care about anything else.

“Thank you.” you whispered, running as fast as you could while leaving a pool of water on your way out.

“You’re soaking the floor!” Nessie pointed, pulling your hand as you ran in the opposite direction you had come from.

“Oh Nessie, this is the last thing you want me to talk about right now.”

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Try To Understand, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Being Stressed About School and Burnt Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Y/N isn't acting like she normally does and Rafe is on a mission to help her out.

Masterlist

As their first semester as sophomores comes to an end, Rafe has noticed the way that Y/N has been withdrawing from the world. He has been trying everything to get her to come out with him, but each text is met with a simple no thank you. Instead of anger filling him, worry is the only thing that Rafe can feel. He hasn’t been in her dorm often because his private room in the frat house is more intimate for them. He quietly knocks on the door, waiting for someone to let him in. Very little light from the room spills into the hallway. Y/N’s hair looked a little greasy, so she threw it up into a bun. She is wearing a large oversized hoodie with sweatpants that are just a little too big for her. Her eyes are droopy and she looks like her soul has been sucked out of her body. The smile that normally spreads across her face doesn’t appear and this tells Rafe that something is wrong. “Angel, are you okay? You haven’t been answering my text,” he questions, stepping closer to her with his hands reaching for her shoulder. She uncharacteristically steps away from his hold, “Yeah, I’ve been busy.” She doesn’t add anything to her statement. 

“Oh. Well, maybe I can just hang out in your room right now. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he offers, hands falling to his side. She shakes her head, trying to push him out the door, “Rafe, I really don’t want to be around anyone right now. Can you go?” “I will, but I can tell something is wrong. Your room is so dark. It’s not like you,” he confesses. 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then let me try to understand, Angel. I can’t do that if you try to push me away. Maybe, I can help or I can just listen.”

At the offer of having someone to vent to, a huge weight feels like it is being lifted off of her shoulders. She collapses into his arms and buries her head into his chest. “I just feel so burnt out. Everything I have to do, even the smallest of tasks, takes so much out of me. I haven’t read a page of my book since last week. I’m just going through the motions of life. I don’t think I can do this anymore, Rafe,” she rants to him. His hand smoothes down her hair and he kisses her temple, “I’m so sorry, you are feeling this way. What can I do to help lighten your load? Do you want me to pay someone to do the rest of your assignments? Because I will. I will do anything to help you.” She lets out a snotty giggle with a shake of her head, “No, no. I can get through my own assignments. But do you think I can stay at your house for a few days and can we take a shower together?” This would be something new to them. She stays at his house a lot, but she only sleeps over every other day. This would be the first time she slept more than two nights in a row at his house. “I just need to be with you,” she adds in a whisper. He kisses her head, “Of course, you can stay as long as you want. Why don’t you take a really quick power nap? I’ll pack your stuff up for you.”

As she watches her boyfriend get her stuff into bags, she can’t help but be grateful that she met someone as caring and loving, whose attention is always on helping her well-being. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama

[macaroonff]

This Autumn, - Shin Ryujin

Genre: Roommates x lovers, College +Domestic Au, Autumn feels Pairing: Shin Ryujin x fem! Reader ↪Content warnings: Mentions of a dysfunctional families, slight angst, mentions of homophobia, mention of insecurities Word Count: 7k+ words Suggested Songs: We found Love in October- Girl In Red I wanna be your girlfriend- Girl in Red Bubble gum- Clairo Duvet- Bôa October Passed Me By- Girl in Red Girls-Girl in Red Softly- Clairo You know where this playlist is heading- feel free to recommend more ↪not proofread

Sometimes fall meant that the clarity of summer had ended, and that the dryness wasn't accompanied by sweat, but by the heaviness of hoodies and the bareness of barks. A bore compared to the freedom and excitement that summer offered; a dispirited time when you look back to the last three months. 

Of course autumn wasn't all bad. The colours took on a warmer palette as the trees bore themselves devoid of its warmth: warmth which could be found in campfires and cosy sheets; in people's hugs and weighted blankets; in hot lattes, crunchy leaves and early sunsets.

But when assignments piled up from the start of the season, finding opportunities to revel in such warmth seemed unsuccessful. You hurriedly tried composing yourself from last month's activities: internships, staycations and pool parties, returning from a whirlwind of adrenaline. It was exhausting, and you were burnt out before the semester even started. 

But a student you were; a decent one you tried to be, as you file your assignments, albeit slowly due to sleep deprivation. The first week of autumn went by with professors dumping assignments immediately as you try to ease the pace at which you deal with it. Clearly, autumn had you drained from day one.

Autumn hated you more than you hated it.

Autumn, two weeks in wasn't too bad. You took time to catch up on deadlines, you made plans with friends, went on walks and you got especially close to your new roommate. Her name was Ryujin, a dark haired divinity with prominent features that meshed gently. Someone who never forgot to get you your daily dose of iced latte and her favourite mocha bread from the café opposite your dorm.

It started when she came back from her evening lectures on a Thursday, holding one mug in her hand, a woolly scarf tucked into her shirt. She came in to see you with hands knitted in your hair, frustrated at the work you had, feet bobbing in concentration. 

A small 'hi' was all that you returned when you noticed her presence.

"Another stressful assignment?," she asks, concerned. Her low timbre is soothing and takes you out of your sums for a brief moment, a sigh escaping your chapped lips.

"It’s calculus." You make eye contact for the first time since she entered, a polite smile greeting her, though the frown almost tilted the other way. 

She waved her hands in a light motion acknowledging your concern, the room key in her palm dangling in it to make a soft clack. 

"Understandable, it's a real headache, especially since you're in Mr Lee’s course. Anything I could help you with?"

"I just need a break," you reply dejectedly, hoping to get away from your monotonous, monstrous tasks. 

"Wanna watch a movie?" she asks, a soft grin hiding on her face. She watches your ears perk up and your eyes shine at the suggestion, to which a chuckle remains stuck in her throat.

"Why don't you choose something and I'll join you after I'm done freshening up." she hands you the remote before walking into her room, grabbing her white towel from the laundry rack.

You sit in silence and wallow in contemplation. Choosing a movie, should be easy. 

Would a sappy rom-com distracting you from your lamentable, gapingly non-existent love life suffice? Or did you need another of those poorly directed and filmed action ones, which would, undoubtedly help you fix your sleep schedule. But then again, would Ryujin watch it? What’s a movie she’d like? Slice of life? Coming of age? Horror?

A change in the lighting of the room, and Ryujin’s tap on your shoulder was what eventually brought you out of your dilemma, and you take your vacant stare off of the blank tv screen towards your roommate instead.

The warm lights had blurred everything in the background in a way that it brought Ryujin’s face into focus, a soft glow emanating from her cheeks. Her hair was wet, the towel lazily wrapped around her supple hair, doing a measly job at keeping it from seeping into her t-shirt. Her oversized black t-shirt had patches of darker spots that clinged to her because of it, making you worried she might catch a cold. You rush to hand her a new towel, one that would actually help. 

“Don’t catch a cold, not the best time of the year to fall sick.” you whisper.

She smiles in appreciation and holds your arm, accepting the fabric for you. "You're cold too y/n. It'd probably be best for us to grab some blankets." 

After ten minutes of rummaging through your creaky cabinets and five minutes of popping corn, you were ready to distance yourself from your headaches, with new-found warmth in your newly washed duvets. 

Snug and pressed against the cushions of the sofa, with your head on her shoulder. Snug as she pats your back until the television's whisper no longer has your attention and you find your heavy eyelids closing on their own. 

Snug as you embrace sleep after months of running away from it.

Snug, however, wasn't what you felt when you woke up in the morning, blankets tangled between your legs, and an annoying ache in your ribs, due to the crushing weight of your favourite cushion. 

Snugness was replaced by the bitterness of another new day, and your long forgotten assignments weighed heavier than they did before. 

All of a sudden last night's peace was something you regretted. And you regret having been swayed by someone you considered an acquaintance.

If Shin Ryujin hadn’t offered, you'd never have taken a break. You'd never have given yourself the opportunity to be wasteful with time. You shouldn't have been tempted by the thought of a moment's freedom. 

Freedom that remained a mirage. A mirage that showed you a time of comfort. Comfort that would last one evening until you'd have to revisit everything you ran away from.

What's the point in having comfort if it's given by someone you interact with for three hours a day? What was the point in comfort if it was momentary?

Shin Ryujin was a roommate you'd have for only two more months until her grandparent's apartment was done with renovations.

Shin Ryujin was temporary.

Autumn three weeks in, was no different. Except that your backlog had increased, your sleep schedule got worse and all that you cared about was getting over with your to-do lists. How you had energy to do everything one by one remained a mystery, but you soon realised that it wasn’t energy that drove you to finish work, but the fear of running out of it sooner or later. As if it wasn’t already obvious, you were on the brink of burnout.

Not that you hated burnout. For some reason being burnt out meant that you'd be forced to take time out for mental health sooner or later. You would be forced to slow down like you did last week. 

Sitting down and finally looking back, last week felt like a distant memory so far away from your reality. It was a privilege you gave yourself, and it was so worth it, contrary to what you felt immediately. She was right, the movie did help, the movie did get you back into a safe space from your anxiety; and you never cared to thank her for it. 

You’d do it today. Thanking her. You absolutely had to.

You spent the next ninety minutes planning the best way to return the favour. Essentially, you spent the next ninety minutes going back on all the little things Ryujin did for you. Which led to the realisation that her love language was a careful amalgamation of acts of service, quality time and physical touch. 

“Maybe I’ll just bake mocha bread. I couldn’t go wrong with that,” you contemplate. You weren’t the best baker on earth, however you had enough experience to go ahead with it.

All you needed was milk, eggs, flour, yeast, sugar and coffee. Everything you had at home, really not much could go wrong.

Until it did. There was no way the universe would let you have anything good before your semester tests. Of course it had to sabotage you when you tried to do one thing with actual love behind it.

The microwave oven she brought in with her beeped once before a loud pop stopped you in your tracks. It was overheated, and nothing you did brought the irksome device back to life. No matter how many buttons you pushed vigorously, or hit the back of it tiresomely, the empty  black box on the door showed no sign of the tiny numbers signalling time left.

Time left. You look at the Ikea clock hung on the wall. Ten minutes more for the bread to be baked until completion, and thirty minutes until she’d come back and discover this mess and the damage to her microwave.

And boy does she love that microwave.

Shin Ryujin knew something was wrong when she entered later at night, almost too late for you to be up right now, just a little before midnight, the smell of sweet coffee greeting her. She’d gone to visit the apartment her grandparents had bought for her, a half hour from here. She was so caught up in finalising the layout that she forgot to mention that she’d be late home. What’s worse was that she had got caught in heavy traffic, and her phone lost charge in the middle of dialling you. 

And when she got up here, completely spent from the work, it took very little for her to be consumed by frustration. Not particularly because of you. None of it had to do with you. She knew that the tedious microwave was ancient and that her parents only gave it to her to get rid of it. She also knew that she should’ve told you about it sooner, before it actually became a problem. So no, in no way was this your fault. 

She looked at your head buried under your arm on the dining table with a mitten on one hand and a post-it under your elbow. The post-it didn’t say much, just scribbled and crossed out words that all seemed to resemble different “I’m sorrys" and “microwaves". You had multiple other post-its crumpled nearby and she picked all of them up and carefully opened them one by one. Between the creases, one said, “I’m so sorry for the microwave Ryujin, ik you treasure it because your parents lent it to you. I just wanted to thank you for last week and I thought I’d bake your favourite but -” it stopped there at which point you must’ve crumpled it. 

Ryujin let her sight wander across the baking utensils washed and stacked neatly on the drying rack and a box of half baked, burnt dough nearby. She smiles, both grateful and apologetic, an urge to caress your head settling in. She takes a closer look at you, trying to figure how she could deposit you to your bed. 

She slowly lifts your head up, wiping excess dough from near your frowning mouth, and her eyes wander up, to your slightly fluttering eyelids facing the yellow lights. It was then under the warm lights that she noticed semi-dried tears under your lashes. Another surge of guilt ran through her, thinking of how worried you must’ve been. 

In the cold kitchen, she lifts you off the chair as carefully as she can and gently drags you across the living room. It was when she’d propped you against the headboard that you stir awake.

Through half-lidded eyes, you take in whatever you can. Ryujin was holding on to your hand gasping slightly.

“Ryujin?” you whisper.

“Shit I didn’t mean to wake you up,” she looks at you a little surprised.

“I’m so sorry-” you mumble in desperation.

“Shh," she places a palm over your eyes, "don’t worry about it love. Go to bed, we’ll talk in the morning”

You aren’t convinced but you also realise that now isn’t the best time to talk. Ryujin’s eyebags seemed deeper in the warm light and you knew both of you needed a decent rest. It had been a hectic time for the two of you, and all you needed was sleep.

Ryujin still had the benevolence to pull the blanket over you and stroke your hair until you fell asleep.

It was the second time you fell asleep in her arms.

The following weekend you were on a shopping trip.

At a semi-large Ikea warehouse about forty minutes away from the campus. It was Ryujin's idea to come out here despite you convincing her to find a shop closer, but she insisted.

"Trust me, it'll be fun. We can look at furniture too."

Of course, she needed new furniture. It slowly dawns on you that you have very little time to spend with her in your home. Home.

You don't remember the last time you called your dorm a home. For all that you knew, it was a messy damp space that you couldn't wait to escape from, an absolute nightmare with it's cramped furniture. But it was cosy, something you couldn't deny now.

Maybe because you were with her. All her little habits that grew on you, her impeccable daily routine that had become a source of stability in your life, even her lesser known quirks such as keeping a picture of her two cats at home framed on her desk and kissing the before going to her classes in the morning.

You admired all of it, and it wouldn't have been the same if it were someone else. You never felt like this with your previous room mates. They were just people who lived in their own solitary spaces. But with Ryujin, somehow you were involved in most housework together. You felt involved, and somewhere more loved than in your own home.

Your family wasn't bad, at least on the surface. They never compromised when it came to your education or your standard of living. But somewhere between those lines were impossible expectations they wouldn't hold themselves to either. And you got tired of them easily. They hid toxicity behind "criticism", where criticism only meant negatives beyond your control. Your last year of high school, particularly faced extreme criticism, and you felt your confidence dipping. You managed though. You're not entirely sure how you coped, but with support from school, you managed a scholarship, a meagre one but still enough to get away from your family.

You hadn't seen them in three years.

Ryujin, on the other hand, had a lovely family, and you were, at times jealous of how perfect she seemed; how perfect everything around her seemed.

She seemed to have every aspect of her life in order. Whether it be top of the class majoring in Business, or being captain of the girl's football team, or the fact that she could spare three hours to stay with her paint brushes and that they would come out having the entire beauty of the universe encompassed in them. She could manage being both a homebody, while still being popular in school, she could be assertive when she needed to be without actually disturbing the fragile ego of most in her class.

She surpassed every definition of balance mentioned in the dictionary. She was living it, breathing it. Stability.

You admired her, a lot, but you couldn't stop this ridiculously miniscule base of malevolence in your heart. And every day you were scared it would become worse.

Especially now, when all she wanted was to spend precious time with you, constantly putting effort into your friendship whereas you were held back by bitter thoughts. And you hated yourself for it.

You force back your envy, distracting yourself by browsing through the shelves of cutlery displayed. You notice the absence of Ryujin's presence, and slowly find yourself lost in this maze of a shop. Maybe it was better that she wasn't in this aisle now, or else you wouldn't be able to face her with the guilt of having thought of her so poorly.

You find yourself interested in the array of pretty pink melamine plates stacked in front of you, in the stainless steel spoons with animal handles, and little napkin holders shaped like boats. You pick up different pans, weighing how heavy each is, looking to keep your brain unnecessarily busy. If you spend a second more comparing yourself with Ryujin, you knew you wouldn't be able to think of anything else for the entire day, or week.

You remember what your therapist told you, all the comfort and validation that you needed pouring in through words. You open up your notes, all the affirmations typed out one by one. You repeat them in your mind, with a new goal in sight.

You wouldn't let your insecurity ruin another good relationship. Especially not with Ryujin.

She emerges after some time, holding in her hand, a grey device, and a grin painted on her face. "I think this is the one. It's a cool toaster cum oven sort of thing, and it's cheap," she winks at you.

How was she so decisive? you think again. It had only taken her fifteen minutes. If it were you, you'd have taken forty minutes more.

"I trust your decision," you reply, giving her a soft smile. You notice her eyebrows raise a little. "You sure?," she asks. "You usually don't agree this fast. You have this terrible habit of sitting on decisions for ages." she rambles on.

You take a moment to process this. You knew it was true, and she probably didn't mean malice, but it was not something you'd accept easily.

Ryujin never had to think twice about what she wanted. She knew exactly what she wanted, and she always got it. Whereas every decision you seemed to make bore consequences you didn't want. And often, the times you didn't heavily weight them out was when things backfired. The last time being with the microwave oven.

It was the only way you knew to trust yourself.

So it irks you greatly when Ryujin calls it a "terrible habit". Because for you, it was a habit that gave you security. Certainty wasn't achievable, but you'd try as fucking close as you could get, and Shin Ryujin won't tell you otherwise.

She'd never understand how imperfect you were. She'd never understand the little complexities that hold you back. For the most part, she had life easy. What would she ever understand?

You ignore her comment, instead picking up a ceramic mug from the shelf, thumbing on the floral patterns glazed onto it.

Ryujin barely senses your predicament, instead grabbing onto the mug placed besides the one you hold onto. "These are pretty, it's like a cute matching set. We should get them," she winks.

The rest of the day follows with more furniture in your cart, and mostly unnecessary plushies plaguing your living room. New pillows, potted plants, wardrobe organisers, a work desk and the biggest Djungelskog bear lying near the couch.

It dawns on you the next morning, after waking up to the chaos, that she was shifting out in two weeks.

On the first of October.

All of a sudden she was busy, very busy, and the two of you barely met, with bigger gaps in your schedule. Part of it was because of Ryujin arranging her main furniture in her new house, and part of it was because you were busy with academics, only that it was voluntary this time. It just so happened that you needed a few more credits to retain your scholarship, the only thing weighing your new found freedom. Along with that, you busied yourself so that you didn't have to face Ryujin later at night.

You were scared. Other than the obvious rent that you'd have to pay by yourself, you also avoided other parts of this change that bothered you. Which was spending time with her. You were scared you'd miss her a bit too much.

Sure, you were friends who were only half an hour away, but now that her colourful room started fading into a bleak white, the emptiness of it reminded you of why you hated autumn. The fall orange left you feeling lonely, and like the very leaves that craved pigmentation, you craved more life. Regardless of the minimal time you spent with her in the evenings, she slowly integrated herself into your life in the smaller ways.

Now they weigh too much in your life for you to be able to cope without it. You ended up distancing yourself from her, in a pathetic attempt to cope with the anticipation of absence. Maybe you just needed more friends, the thought crossing your mind a lot more these days. But you had plenty of them at uni, most of who you loved. But none of them were Ryujin.

None of them cared for you as much as she did. None of them taught you how to care for yourself like she did. None of them held you in their arms throughout the night, until you felt rested and loved. Nobody inspired you as much as Ryujin did.

Maybe Ryujin wasn't just a friend, something you were scared to consider in the past few weeks. It was a feeling completely new. Other than a failed situation-ship in high school, you never considered the possibility of a relationship, much less exploring your sexuality.

It was an intimidating prospect that you hadn't considered. Something that initiated urgency more than curiosity. Unlike the diverse spectrum that your feelings for Shin Ryujin belonged to, your thoughts focused on just one. She was important in more ways than platonic, and the distance that was to be would be extremely difficult to cope with. The distance that you had created seemed silly, but at the same time there was nothing you could think to resolve the conflict. You were going against this wall you'd built for yourself, and the facade of distance only grew day by day. So much so that at one point, Ryujin stopped approaching you first.

In a way, you deserved it. For someone who had been so unreceptive to her life as a coping method, this is the least you deserved for being a little jerk. Why would someone pursue any relationship, even platonic if you'd put yourself back into the mega cage you thought you'd escaped from. Something you'd escaped from only temporarily in her presence. Something you're going back to by the next week when she's gone.

You suffer multiple sleepless nights, the mid terms only a catalyst to your loneliness, when all you remember is Ryujin and her quirks.

You do accept another roommate later on, a mutual contact in your friend group, someone who was introduced to you by Ryujin herself. She'd dropped in a small text at 8 in the morning, on the way to class, you'd assumed. All it did was talk about how a common friend, Yeji needed a room to stay.

You accepted it of course, because you didn't have to foot the entire month's bill but also because you thought having someone else would curb your loneliness. And this loneliness was stupid. Ryujin wasn't the only thing you had in your entire life, and she should've been inconsequential, the same way the daylight hours gradually decreased. But it isn't too hard to notice once the sun's gone down.

The new roommate was like a transition from summer to winter, but unlike Ryujin , who helped ease the transition between the seasons, this one only reminded you that it would be cold. She wasn't a bad roommate, no she was perfect, did the laundry on Wednesdays, did the evening dishes at 6 and gave you lots of personal space. She was nice, but not like Ryujin.

You hated how you compared her to Ryujin, how you compared everything to her. "She isn't your entire world," you remind yourself. "Shin Ryujin was only temporary."

You'd decided that your feelings for her were only a means for you to be validated. That was all you'd craved from her, and that was all she'd given you- validation.

On October 15th, you feel relieved. Your mid terms were over with and you had a little bit of free time. Were you going to spend it wisely? Of course not.

You were going to sit in bed all day, scrolling through Youtube, a luxury you'd afford yourself rarely in the last month. You went home early, to a somewhat excitable Yeji. Another rare sight.

"What's up?" you ask her, noticing her vibrant demeanour.

"Nothing much, Ryujin's coming over today."

You're surprised to hear this, and a little disappointed that Ryujin never told you herself. Or maybe there was no reason to, it's not like you kept in touch with her.

"That's cool, are you guys ordering something? Or should I make food for you two?" you offer, realising the amount of free time you had.

"We'll just order pizza," she replies. She hesitates for sometime, as if she has something to say. "Y/n?" she calls out slowly.

"Hmm?" "...you're nothing like what Ryujin described you as."

You still in your spot.

"It's just that you're really kind you know. I thought you'd be more distant, and cold."

"Ryujin said that? About me?"

She nods her head.

Is that really how she saw you? Distant and cold? Sure you were closed off towards the end, but is that really who you were to her? After all the good memories? You weren't sure anymore, insecurity creeping inside you.

It hurt. Was it this easy for people to be unforgiving? But then again, you never apologised, so in a weird way what Yeji relayed sounded justified.

You offer her a stiff smile.

"I'll be in my room then, tell me if you need anything."

Dejected, you go back to your blank room, where even the orange of autumn feels comforting, something you hated previously. You stay inside the entire evening, occasional sounds of muffled laughter behind your walls being all that you focus on for the duration. Every time you heard her laugh loudly from behind the door, you wondered if she ever laughed like that in front of you. Did you ever make her feel happy? The same way she did to you?

You want to go out and say hi, but after what Yeji said, you stop yourself. She must hate you now, there was no other way.

It isn't later at night, after you're sure the laughter was no more, and only when the silence of the room becomes comforting, you step out to see a dim blue light in the darkness of the living room, Yeji working on the dining table. "Y/n, didn't come out to say hi to Ryujin?" she asks, with pity that sounds forced.

"Yeah, no I was just napping," you lie, "did anything fun happen?"

"Mhm, we were discussing Ryujin's blind date tomorrow with a senior from the engineering department. Apparently, he's handsome," she shrugs her shoulder.

"Ryujin likes boys?" you ask without realising.

"Hmm, I'm not sure actually."

A small part of you feels dejected as you get a glass of water, all while contemplating if you should have reached out.

"You like her don't you?" Yeji whispers, looking up from her laptop.

It's the second time you still in your spot. Yeji had brought up something you never thought was prominent.

"Your lights were on, I could tell from your slightly ajar door. You weren't sleeping were you?" she gives you a knowing smile.

"I'm not judging you- it's just that it's obvious that you miss her. It may or not may be romantic- but you do miss her don't you?". You don't know how to reply to her. You barely knew Yeji, but somehow she very accurately read your emotions.

As if she knows what you're thinking, she continues.

"You know, every time that I've tried bringing up Ryujin, you've always changed the conversation, instead isolating yourself in your room."

Looking back, it made sense. You didn't want to think about her anymore. Your meeting with Ryujin's was temporary and never mattered. It was almost crazy how dependent you were on her within just a few months.

" I realised that I don't know much about Ryujin, nor does she about me. Sure I know she loves mocha bread, she loves her big Ikea Djungelskog soft toy, that she's watched the perks of being a wallflower more times than she can count; but I don't think I could be truly vulnerable with her. I'm scared to be vulnerable with her."

Yeji sighs, almost disappointed. She went back to working, despite her twitching lips, like she had more to say.

That night, you reflect for longer. Why was it that you felt scared to lean on Ryujin? Technically you told her about troubles with academics, problems with some of your classmates- that is considered being vulnerable right? Then what was it that you wanted her to know, but you never wanted to admit? Was it your insecurities? Was it the thought she'd never understand it?

It was like your mind had accepted that you and Ryujin had come from two different worlds, and if you invited her into yours, she would run away, like your family. Despite you coming to terms with it, the distance with your family was a wound still fresh. And nothing would change, until you could put it behind you.

25th October, Yeji handed you an invite to one of her friend's Halloween parties.

After your confession, she'd been a little nicer; she was more active in initiating conversations, and you realised she was more extroverted than your first impression. Eventually, you did watch the Maze Runner with her again, and you appreciated how she gushed about Dylan O'Brien throughout it, dispelling any awkward moments.

"I designed this invitation by the way, cool isn't it?", she asks about the party invitation in your hand. It had black bat details engraved in a glossy reflective paper. "Please come, we've had a difficult week, one party won't hurt will it?" she states, the question more rhetorical.

You agree quietly, excitement bubbling in you.

Until it did hurt, a week later.

Barely five minutes after you enter the loud, congested apartment, with strangers in costumes, you felt a part of your heart drop. There was a tight feeling in your chest, something you were sure wasn't because of the new corset you wore. Because you felt comfortable seconds before you saw Ryujin with her hands wrapped around this guys neck, kissing him on the couch as if he were her entire life. At first, you weren't even sure it was her- her hair was shorter, dyed a platinum blonde. She wore a leather jacket and a white skater dress, dressed so differently than what you were used to seeing her in.

You weren't able to comprehend how good she looked in his arms, with all her attention focused on him, smiling. The same smile that you'd missed for a month. When she does look away from the vampire- you assumed was her boyfriend, her eyes scan the crowd and she almost looks bewildered. You were stood so motionless near the entrance from where you could see them, that even the crowd that pushed past you couldn't bring you to move. It was suffocating, and unconsciously you head for the exit, looking to get away.

But fate wouldn't be so kind would it? The universe wouldn't just let you be would it? "Are you leaving already y/n?" Yeji screams from across the room, which you were sure was audible to everyone. She finds her way to you, a smile on her face. "You just came in, why are you leaving? Cool outfit by the way."

"Thanks," you offer her a stiff smile, eyes going back to Ryujin, who because of Yeji, had finally found you.

Yeji, who just noticed the tension, holds your hand and pulls you towards Ryujin.

"Atleast say hi, y/n, it won't hurt."

Yeji's assurance of "it won't hurt" was what brought you here, it was indeed what hurt you. Her saying this now wasn't helping, and you scoff. It was almost like Yeji knew this was going to happen. It was like she knew how much it hurt you, and may even enjoy it.

"Why did you invite me Yeji? You knew about this didn't you? It hurts, I..I shouldn't have come." you spit out, trembling.

"Y/n, there's something you need to know."

"What? that she has a boyfriend?" you spat, annoyed by her deception.

Yeji sighs, holding onto your shoulders, somewhat urgent.

"No, it's something only Ryujin can tell you. Please, just talk to her. This once."

At this point, you couldn't trust anyone, neither Yeji, Ryujin, nor yourself. It was like you were at different crossroads- to run away, or to confront her again. She hadn't even done anything wrong, all she did was kiss a guy. She didn't owe you anything.

You choose to run away, until you notice Ryujin approaching you with her boyfriend. It's like she withheld any decision you make, with her forcing you into a circumstance you would not choose for yourself.

"Y/n?" she asks softly. Her otherwise comforting voice now made you uncomfortable, almost bringing you to tears by how much you missed it.

"It's been so long," she holds your hand gently.

Her hands felt colder than before, and before you could say anything, the tall, matching vampire spoke up.

"Hi y/n, I'm Jason, her boyfriend. I've heard a lot about you." he looks friendly, and he doesn't seem to hold any malice. But you still hated this guy.

"You have?" you ask saltily. "...good things I hope." you couldn't help but say drily, hands fiddling with the witch hat you'd worn.

"A moment please love," Ryujin signs to her boyfriend, who goes towards the bar with Yeji.

Ryujin takes your hand and drags you towards what you assume to be the bedroom, away from the crowd.

You enter the bedroom with her, with your head ringing because of the way she called him love. You remember how she'd called you love the day you'd tried baking, the day you'd fallen asleep in her arms. You thought the word "love" meant nothing, that it was an endearing term with no implications. But if that was the case- why did she address him as love?

Jealousy eventually overrode the confusion, and the hurt that stained you previously had multiplied. You couldn't feel more stressed, it was so much more than any calculus assignment you'd ever come across.

"Are you crying?" she eventually speaks, eyes concerned. You didn't even realise the visible tears falling down your cheek slowly, your mascara ruined in the reflection of the mirror behind her.

"What do you wanna talk about Ryujin?" you huff. "Y/n, do you need time to calm down? I don't think you're in the mood to talk."

"I'm fine. Just get to the point please." you say, barely concentrating on what was going on. She comes in to hug you, but you step back.

She looks upset by this, seemingly as confused as you. "I...I thought we were friends y/n," she whispers in the same tone she'd always used to comfort you. "We weren't this far apart were we? Why do you hate me?" she raises her voice in desperation.

This was an accusation you could not believe she had made, hate was too strong for what you felt for her.

"I don't hate you Ryujin." you speak, resigned. "Then why do you look so upset, why can't you even say hi?" she emphasises, her voice breaking in between.

"Because it hurts... I can't"

You fall against the bed post. Eyes finding the bear plushie you bought her. You slowly realise that this is her bedroom, and that you were in her new house- the apartment you'd never come to before. You were barely able to process all of this when she speaks up again.

"You can't what y/n? You can't accept the fact that you like me?" You look back at her, eyes widened, as though whatever little sanity you had remaining was destroyed like the branches of an autumn tree- fallen, and weak. It was almost humiliating.

"I don't like you Ryujin," you hide behind your words like a coward. "Don't lie to yourself y/n, is it that difficult to accept that you like me?"

You don't know where this was coming from. If she knew you liked her, couldn't she just let you down gently?

"What does it matter? You have a boyfriend. Even if I did like you; no even if I loved you, nothing would change." you say dejectedly. It must have been true, because there was silence that persisted for longer than you wished it would be.

"What if it did change? What if I said I liked you too? Would you believe me?" she asks quietly, reverting back to her calm persona as she takes a big breath. You scoff, noticing how different she had become in a month. The audacity she had to ask you if you believed her, right after making out with her boyfriend in front of everyone in the room disgusted you, something you don't think you'd ever be able to comprehend.

"Why would I believe you? I saw your boyfriend. Besides, if you did like me, you'd be honest with me. I think that's the least I'd expect from you, so don't play with my feelings; because unlike yours, I can say with conviction that mine are real."

You see her expression change, her eyes becoming teary.

She sits beside you, against the wooden footboard. "I can't be honest, because I'm scared. There's so many people watching me- so many people who my family knows. I barely had, or still have any privacy in my life. Do you know why my grandparents left me this apartment? Because they don't trust me." she pauses for a minute. Taking another deep breath, eyes now fixed on to the floor.

You don't know where she's going with this, but don't say anything because this may be the last time you'd get any closure.

"There was a girl I really liked in high school, but we could never be together, because my family refused to let me meet her. They pretend to be liberal in their thoughts- but they're as homophobic as they get. There's no way they'd understand. The only time I felt safe was in our dorm, because there was no one who would snitch on me, nobody who cared. It was utopia- where you were my solace, and I just basked in the temporary peace.

But when my grandparents asked about you, they'd worry I'd gotten too close to you, refusing to believe you could be just a friend. Two months after I shifted in to our dorm, they made preparations to isolate me in this house of theirs."

She couldn't continue, as tears you'd never seen from her before, collected as a tiny stream between the cracks of the tiles on the cold floor. You understood what she meant. In an evening's moment, you realised that she wasn't this perfect being that she always projected. Yes, she was amazing, but she had her own challenges, something you thought she'd never had. Unlike the two different worlds you thought you were in, your access into her world made you realise you were more similar than you could've imagine. All of a sudden you hated your past self for being so mean to her, for harbouring insecurities that in hindsight were not worth the pain.

"Jason, is my neighbourhood friend, and he's the one of the few people I can trust. He's pretending to be my boyfriend, so that if my family ever found out, they wouldn't doubt me." she explains, trying to resolve your distrust.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, leaning your head against her shoulder, gently holding onto her hand."

The two of you sit their in silence, reflective, though relieved.

She gently kisses your forehead, arms wrapping around your waist.

"I missed you y/n. So much. But I'm also scared to go back to you, to our place. I don't know what we're going to do. I'm sorry too, for the situation I put you in. For the situation I've put both of us in."

You rub her arms gently,

"It's ok, we'll figure it out slowly. I'm sorry too . You were always there for me- and I, like the coward I am was scared of being attached to you, your generous love . I was also so insecure of how perfect you were- but now it's all so inconsequential."

To this Ryujin laughs, and she wipes her tears. "It's funny how both of our insecurities hurt us in the end. I promise, I wont' let it affect us in the future. I won't ever hurt you again y/n. I love you, so much."

"I love you too Ryujin."

You know that it's going to be a long road ahead of the two of you, but you'll be alright. You comb through her hair, leaning in to meet her lips. Her quivering lips are not soft as you expected, but slightly chapped, brushing against yours. She drags a cold finger down your spine, causing you to lose your breath. Her pulling you closer, slipping behind your corset, unzipping it. Your hands are tangled in her short locks, and you pull away in between to breathe.

With the kiss, and this new path, the autumn you hated so had come to an end. Autumn had become easier to think about, among the loneliness of the dry leaves and the warmth devoid in the air, you'd treasure the warmth that she provided. Shin Ryujin, unlike autumn wasn't temporary. Autumn will come and go, but Shin Ryujin would always stay, and you'd treasure her in every season. In the end, autumn didn't hate you as much you did, because despite everything, autumn gifted you Shin Ryujin.

Am I actually posting an autumn fic when its almost summer? Yes, yes I am. This is long overdue and idk why it took me this long to finish it ahhhh.

I appreciate any feedback, feel free to interact with this post!

Thanks for reading <3

-Macaroon

[sunlightwoo]

the sun and the cloud

pairing: taehyun x gn reader

genre: comfort fic, a little bit of heavy angst, fluff warnings: mentions of mental health and burn outs | rating 16+

wc: 1.2k 

a/n: hey everyone! so lately i’ve been in a mental slump with my personal life and after talking to a few friends, i thought people might be in the same boat as me when it comes to being burnt out, and that’s okay. if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone, i hope i can be that person for you guys whether you reach out to me, or just read this fic as it will be a small piece that hopefully gives you the comfort that we need sometimes. 

When Taehyun comes back after a long day of practice, he couldn’t wait to come home to your shared apartment to tell you a funny moment that happened to your best friend Kai. He knew that it was something you would’ve also laughed yourself to tears at, the same way he was when it first happened. 

It was too funny to even speak about it properly, without laughs, he recalls when he tried to reexplain what had happened to Soobin.

However, the moment that he stepped foot into the place after inputting the password went from happy thoughts to a gloomy darkness that filled your living room. There was nothing but the sound of a familiar show being played in the background of what seemed like it came from your bedroom filling the white noise. He was wondering why you weren’t out here yet to greet him, like you usually do on days like today, which was any other day.

“Sweetheart, you awake?” He whispered quietly, feet padding against the hardwood floor to your room after he placed his sneakers on the little shoe rack he remembers getting with you at Ikea days ago. 

What could’ve happened between then and now? 

The sight he was greeted with when he entered the room had him confused, seeing as you were in a blanket burrito that you had probably wrapped yourself into earlier and asleep. If it were any other day, he’d be able to tell that you were sleeping soundly with the quiet breaths and snores that were leaving your lips, but he was able to notice it. 

How dark the circles under your eyes were, how puffy they ended up being from probably crying for a while; how long have you felt like this? 

“Baby…” 

There’s a frown on his face as he quietly turns down the volume of the tv so that there was nothing but the silence engulfing both him and your sleeping figure. He was tempted to hold you in his arms right now, to at least try to figure out why you tried to hide everything from him, but it seems as though his subconscious beat him to it as he was slowly reaching out to brush your cheek softly with his hand. 

He notices how you stir in your sleep for a moment and your eyes slowly peel open, your head leaning into his touch as you do so and there’s a small smile that you give him from your spot. However, he notices how the sparkle that used to be in your eyes was now dulled a bit and the smile doesn’t meet with the impression that you were trying to give to him. 

“Why are you letting your fire burn out, my love?” He mumbles quietly, still holding your cheek in his hand and maybe that was it. 

The moment that you had woken up from your accidental nap, you remembered how you had gotten to where you were. These last few weeks you had been caught up in your school work in uni while working part time at a nearby cafe, but with the school year finally wrapping up, you were trying to rest up and enjoy all the free time you had to spend with Taehyun and your friends before you were taken away to work more than you were used to at your job for the summer. 

Maybe that was when your burn out was starting to take a toll on you. Maybe it had even been there before you noticed it, because you couldn’t even remember how your entire semester had gone through given that this was your third year. 

However with what he had just asked you now, you could feel the tears that you had shed earlier start to prick at the corners of your eyes. Your lips quivered slightly and you bit it to avoid any noise leaving them, hands gripping onto the blanket burrito that was slowly coming apart but maybe that was because of the welcoming warmth that was ready to engulf you now was Taehyun’s arms that were wrapped around your waist. 

He swiftly picked you up so that you were now cuddling with him beneath you, your face hidden into his chest as tear stains were made, but nothing could leave your lips. All that you were able to hear were his soft whispers of everything being okay while his hand rubbed and down your back slowly. 

“I’m so tired, Tyun…” You hiccuped quietly, looking up at him as he wiped the stray hairs away from where they were sticking onto your face and you could see the small frown on his face. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” He whispers back and the sigh that leaves from his chest makes you feel even more upset, because you could tell that he hated how much he couldn’t do much in this situation. 

However, him being here when you needed him most felt like everything to you. 

“But I’ll make sure that we get through this together, one step at a time. You’re not going to be alone in this, I won’t let you.” 

He reaches down to place a small kiss on your nose from when you were still looking up at him, making you scrunch it up for a moment before placing your head back down against his chest. However, he was right, because no matter how bad life will get or how tired you may be from the external factors of the universe, you’re going to come home to the greatest support system that you have today. 

“I don’t think I deserve-”

“You do, and you can’t keep beating yourself up for things that are out of your control.” He says almost immediately, making you look back up again to see that his facial expression changed into one that was almost playful and mischievous, like he knew what you were going to say. 

But he knows that you knew you meant no harm. 

There were days where like today, thunderstorms were surrounding your head for who knows how long they had been there. But for the days with the sun and the warm breeze comes Taehyun to push them all away, making sure that you take the time to heal and feel loved at your own pace. Because you deserve everything good that comes to the world, even if it means going through some rough patches. 

“I love you lots, Taehyun.” 

“I love you too, you got this,” He smiles and places one more kiss or two on both your forehead and then a quick peck on your lips, before he thought of something to potentially cheer you up, even if it was just temporarily. 

“Do you want to hear about how Kai broke the tv after playing with a hoverboard? He ended up hitting himself in the head with a soccer ball in the middle of it.” 

The introduction to the story itself made you feel intrigued, the thunderstorms slowly going away as Taehyun quietly retells the story that he told Soobin earlier in a more calm tone, knowing that it was maybe too soon to start laughing now. But when he heard soft giggles come out from you at the best part, he knew that his job for now was done as he held you closer to him for the rest of the night. 

permanent taglist: @viastro​ @bbanghoonie​ @wooyoung-a​ @pwttychannie​ @sunwoahkim​ @karsohn​ @escapewriter​ @awfullytiredbuthealing​ @fylithia​ @i4deonu​ @flrtsbin​ @whereisgyu​ @myluv-yeonjun​ @allorysayshi​ @nlnkm​ @jannine00742​ @rebsmoonn​ @jjhmk​ @ilvaussie​ @idontwanttobehereanymore​ @beomgyugyu​ @99cyj​ @rebsmoonn​ @butterflx​ @theoskies​ @biuebinnie​ @ja4hyvn​ @ilovechanhee​ @wccycc​ @invuwrld​ @ahnneyong​ @bambi-vixey​ @soobprised​ @comic-wanda​ @ksunwooqt​ @black-rose-29​ @jaysbestie​ @glyxiebear​ @strawbrinkofdeath​ @vatterie​ @marsophilia​ @seungkwan-s​ @jinjccns​ @rosymetal​ @fairybinie​ @justalittlwtooshy​ @ineedsomezzz​ @serendipityjaemin​ @lilactangerine​ @baekberrie​ @theskzvibe​ (add yourself to my permanent taglist here!)

cannot tag: @brinnalaine @iovaki @cowboyjaehyun @soobin-chois @kpoploverforever27 @Xoxozainab @f1usw @flowergirl95 @sadbixth11 @yoonslefttoe @allyg-onz @lilyluvsgyu @sunwooskies @artgukk @magicalstudentwhispers @yurikkiri @ineedaherosavemenow @msxflower @luv-ivi @ashxxkook

[ptersparkers]

scenes from a diner (one)

summary: a small diner off of a freeway exit becomes a sacred meeting place for you and aaron hotchner. 

notes: hi, loves. wrote this on a whim last night and there will probably be a second part to it. enjoy! x

warnings: typical criminal minds talk/violence and typos, probably.

It’s late.

The sky has been dark for a few hours when you enter the classical American diner just off of the freeway, inhaling the familiar scent of burnt coffee and sweet pie from the register counter. Compared to the weather outside, the diner is warm. The warmth welcomes you as you grip your bag against your shoulder and enter the building; it’s a stark contrast from the cold October air and you want nothing more than to warm up. The walls are decorated in colorful posters straight from the 1950s and the music is a soft, low hum of whatever jazz tracks Rudy’s in the mood for.

Rudy. He’s nice enough to let you sit in his diner, undisturbed, for hours on end and he’s kind enough to charge you for only one cup of coffee even though you consume much more than that. It’s probably because you worked here for two years straight during your last years in your graduate program, but you like to think it’s because Rudy likes you.

You beeline for the booth in front of the open kitchen when Patty, the lead supervisor for the overnight night, greets you. She’s blonde, in her mid-sixties, and always talks about her grandkids because she’s sure they’re going to grow up to become famous rock stars. In a way, you almost feel as though she’s adopted you as one of her own because of how frequently she asks you about how you’re doing in school and what your love life looks like.

“Teach another class?” Patty asks from beside you. She’s got a fresh pot of coffee in her hands (you can tell because she refuses to serve you any of the stuff that’s been sitting on the burner) and a plate of hash browns, short stacks, and sausages. 

“Today wasn’t so bad,” you answer, thanking her for the coffee and the meal. “You’d think a bunch of freshmen would be pure chaos but I’m still surprised that they’re actually there to learn.”

“Well, I’m not,” says Patty. “You’re one of the smartest people I know and I think all of your students know that too.” 

“You’re too kind, Patty. What about you? Is Rudy giving you any trouble?” 

Patty warms your heart. You’re a PhD candidate, suffering from listless studies and a poor balance of work and home life. Lately, you feel like you’re losing grasp on your life and you find yourself staring off into space, wondering if what you’re working towards is worth it. Moving to New York for your undergrad, then D.C. for your graduate program, had been a dream come true. No more small towns to make you feel like you’re the least important person on Earth. In the big cities, at least, feeling unimportant was just because there were too many people occupying the same space, not because people looked down on you.

Patty smiles at you and pats your shoulder. “Not tonight, but that’s a first.” She says it with glee. “You’re gonna be one hell of a forensic psychologist, my dear. Now eat up, can’t have you studying and grading papers on an empty stomach.”

She leaves without another word and you dig into your meal, unaware of the last time you ate. The coffee’s as good as it can be, and while you prefer a latte from the coffee shop near your apartment, it doesn’t stay open past six in the evening and you find yourself leaving campus well after then. The long days are taxing, and it’s the middle of the fall semester. You don’t know how you’re managing to balance your own work on top of teaching a curriculum that you’re passionate about. With all the mandatory test material you’re required to give and papers you’re required to assign, the never-ending flow of paper and digital work makes you feel like your eyes are going to pop out of your head at any given moment. 

The diner’s a safe haven, of sorts. Low murmurs and slow traffic keep you company (you prefer to work with white noise) and the company of the likes of Rudy, Patty, and Jade (who you’re not completely fond of, but you two get along). You can’t concentrate when listening to music, finding the comforting melodies and familiar lyrics too much of a distraction. It’s half the reason why you chose to study in a public place. 

A couple of years before your temporary teaching position, you’d been desperate for a job after moving from New York. You were lucky that you were granted a full ride to NYU, and working at the local coffee shop was your way of supplementing income as spending money. Rudy was kind enough to interview you when you approached him about a ‘HELP WANTED’ poster and called you the next day to tell you the job was yours if you wanted it. Working at Rudy’s was nothing short of a means to an end, but you liked the company you kept. 

Rudy was a mentor in your life away from your studies. You blink the memories away every time you think about your childhood but they never seem to listen to you. You can picture yourself at thirteen, hiding in your closet when you hear commotion downstairs. You’d just excused yourself to bed after watching a movie with your mother and father, and both of them said goodnight before closing your bedroom door. 

It wasn’t until an hour later that you were woken up by screams. 

You don’t know what happened next. The memory fast forwards and the next thing you know, you’re sitting with your knees to your chest and your hand covers your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming. You don’t remember crying either, just the sheer panic of what was to come. 

Then came the gunshots.

One. 

You heard your mother scream in agony and she began to plead for her life.

Two.

Silence. 

You don’t dare make a move. Everything seemed like it was a dream, a horrible dream that you’d only remember as a distant nightmare. It felt like you were out of your body and seeing life through a different perspective, that you weren’t a scared child hiding in your closet because you were afraid that you would be next.

But it wasn’t a dream and you didn’t wake up. 

You heard sirens after what felt like an eternity and a round of gunshots after the fact. You later learned the lone gunman had decided to die, suicide by cop, and aimed his gun at a police officer before eventually being shot twice. You remember two detectives (David Rossi and Jason Gideon were their names, but sometimes that memory is a little fuzzy) coaxing you out of the closet and telling you the worst was over. You opened your mouth and tried to speak, but nothing came out. You specifically remember Jason allowing you the grace to cry, but you couldn’t. 

“You’re safe.” David’s words echo. 

It was a partial truth. Foster care was not something you particularly liked and at the rip age of eighteen, you were on your own. 

You’re pulled out of that memory when you see your screen start to dim.

Your laptop stares back at you when you pull up your dissertation. It’s been haunting you for a while now and there are moments when you feel like you can crank out page after page, and there are moments when you feel like your brain is completely empty. Right now, it’s the latter. 

There are a few people scattered across the diner when you look from above the screen. A few older couples who chat with Rudy. Some college students you don’t recognize. A few customers who fly solo. People watching is much more fascinating than working on your paper.

But you try your best and write half of a page, cross checking your notes. Your table’s sprawled out with your belongings (notebooks, journals, and other articles you’re using for your thesis) and you silently wish you had a better system of organizing your notes so that the right article shows up when you need it. 

Your coffee’s long gone by the first hour. Taking deliberate sips between typing, you promise yourself you’d fetch another pot of coffee as a reward (something Rudy granted you permission to do, even after you quit). You see your laptop losing its battery and reach into your bag for the charger, bending under the table with the electrical outlet. It’s why you like this table so much and why you’ve memorized each table that has one. 

When you feel your eyelids grow heavier, you know you need another cup. Patty nods at you when you silently ask her to watch your belongings and you tug your cardigan around your shoulders when you stand just behind the counter to refill your mug. 

You must be really out of it because you barely register knocking into someone when you step behind the counter. 

“Oh,” is all you say when a few droplets spill from the cup. You look up and you want the Earth to swallow you whole.

The man who you bumped into is drop dead gorgeous. 

He’s much taller than you, has a jawline that could cut you like a knife, eyes so brown that you’re afraid that you might get lost in them. The stranger is wearing a suit and tie–you’re a sucker for a man who looks good in a suit–with his shoes matching the color of his belt. 

You feel like you could fantasize about this man to your wits end. Tall, handsome, and wears a suit? He’s painfully your type. Maybe this is a meet-cute, where the devilishly beautiful man in front of you offers to buy you a cup of coffee or a slice of pie (and you tell him you always get these on the house, so he doesn’t have to pay for you) just to get you to talk to him. The stranger would then accompany you back to your table, you’d put your studies away and make small talk about his life and yours, and he’d lead you back to his place. You’d live happily ever after and that’s the end of the story.

But like all of your dreams, they come to an end.  

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. You’re not hurt, are you?” 

You gulp. You notice a few droplets of coffee have stained your cardigan, but it’s nothing you can’t get out. 

“No, I’m fine,” is what you say. Your heart is beating, though you can’t tell if it’s because he startled you or because you feel like you’re falling in love with a man you’ll most likely never see again.

“Good,” he replies. He stares at the coffee in your hand and then back up at you, and offers a closed-mouth smile as he steps out of your way. You can only bow your head and make your way back to your table, wishing you were clever enough to hold a conversation with him. 

But you don’t. You put your glasses back on and motion back to your studies.

***

Aaron’s had a long day. 

The case extended an extra day and he flew in from Dallas, Texas, an hour ago. The plane ride felt like an eternity, from Spencer and Derek’s bickering to Emily and JJ’s low murmurs about what they were up to during the weekend. Debating on whether to stay late in the office to finish up the paperwork or take it home, Aaron decided that he needed a change of scenery or he might very well start resenting his job. He sends his team home and tells them not to worry about anything other than getting a good night’s sleep, and he tells them to sleep in an extra hour unless there’s a case. 

There’s always a case, but sometimes there isn’t. 

His work bag is slung over his shoulder when he leaves the building and he wishes he were in anything other than a suit. He knows of a few places he could go to - the diner off of the freeway, Jessica’s house, or the office in his local gym that’s open 24-hours. The owner lets him use it because he admires Aaron’s work. Aaron dismisses going to Jessica’s, knowing that Jack was at a sleepover and that she would most likely be asleep by now. He rules out the gym because he doesn’t want anyone he’s familiar with to bother him. 

To the diner he goes. 

He doesn’t need to use the GPS. It’s on his way home and he always says he’d get something from the restaurant on his way home, but he’s never stopped. When he pulls into the parking lot, he’s surprised that there are quite a few people at this time of night. It’s bright inside, something Aaron needs to stay awake for the next hour or two. He locks his door and shoves the keys deep into his pocket.

The diner is as quaint as he pictures what diners should be. The scent of coffee is what entices him the most and he feels himself nearly drool when he smells the hashbrowns on the griddle. Too tired to do anything other than order a meal and work on the remaining paperwork, Aaron trudges to the register when he bumps into you on the way.

He watches you stumble and nearly reaches out to help you balance yourself, but you stand upright before he gets the chance to. The interaction isn’t long and soon you’re excusing yourself. 

Aaron spares one glance at you when you walk away from him and takes notice of the many notebooks and paperclipped stacks on the table. He wants to question it, but doesn’t. Instead, he tugs on his suit jacket to make it fit properly after he bumped into you and walks to the cash register, where Patty welcomes him.

“Hi, hon. What can I get you?”

“Uh,” Aaron says, clearing his throat. He looks at the menu above her and he doesn’t know what he wants. “Coffee, to start.”

“I’ll be back in a second,” is all Patty says before walking to fix him a cup. 

Patty discreetly looks back at Aaron and watches as he looks at you for a second time. She chuckles to herself and pours his coffee when he hears him clear his throat again, and Patty’s sure he knows what he wants. 

“Decided yet?” she asks. 

“Just the BLT with a side of hash browns, please and thank you.” Aaron pays for his meal and leaves a twenty-dollar tip. Patty, raising her eyebrow at the gesture, puts one elbow on the counter and leans closer to him.

“Her name’s Y/N,” she pointedly says. “PhD student at George Washington University. A real smart cookie, if you ask me. She’s going places.”

Aaron furrows his eyebrows. He didn’t ask, but he’s not upset that Patty spoke up. Aaron doesn’t dare to look back at you for a third time. 

“Thank you,” Aaron says, looking at her name tag, “Patty. I suppose I should introduce myself. Aaron Hotchner.”

“Well, Aaron, I hope you enjoy your coffee and your BLT.” 

Before Aaron can turn to leave, Patty speaks once again.

“She’s here most nights.” 

Aaron watches as Patty disappears into the back with a mischievous smirk on her face, unsure of how he should read into it. As he turns to choose a seat, you catch his eye. You’re biting on the end of your pen and stare at your screen with, to him, malicious intent. 

PhD student. You’re probably working on a dissertation. 

Aaron pulls himself away from you and chooses to sit two tables over, pulling his case files out and begins to work on them.

[sugarplumflowers]

As I near my birthday, I feel the doom of growing up and not feeling fulfilled with who I am today. I turn 22 in a few weeks, and I look at myself and all I can think is how unhappy I am with who I see, and I hate that feeling. I never used to feel that way either, I used to feel so full of hope, so happy with my looks, and carried a high ego wherever I went, possibly delusional, but nonetheless assuring. I do not know how I got here, and I know exactly what I wish is different, but I feel paralyzed by an overwhelming to-do list and the speedy nature of time. 

I started the first day of my last semester of college yesterday, and as excited I am to be done, I wish it was not the end yet. My first two years of college were not as smooth as I wanted them to be, starting in the midst of Covid and dealing with the grief of losing my best friend and my aunt in the same year. I struggled a lot with myself and never felt more like I was at the will of my mental health, and went through lots of forgiveness and therapy to feel as close to who I was before all of that. I want to go to law school more than I want anything in the world, but I fear that my past mistakes of letting these things interfere with doing my best in school during that time will make me fall short. I also am scared of succumbing to the paralysis caused by the previously mentioned to-do list. I am consistently burnt out, and I do not know how to rest and restore myself to do what I want to do and get done what I want to get done, but I need to figure it out. 

[desultory-suggestions]

I have my exams next week and I've barely studied these last two months, now I have absolutely no motivation or energy. I'm depressed, I'm exhausted, nothing excites me anymore and the last activity I wanna do rn is study but I have to pass these exams. i don't even know how to begin to approach this , it feels like an entire world rn, even the most basic tasks feel like such a burden

Hello, dear. First things first, take a deep breath. Right here at this moment, all that matters is your breathing. Take a pause and breathe, let yourself relax your body. Let your mind wander, but don't stay anywhere too long. If you think of something that causes stress, just take another deep breath and let it flow by. When we become overwhelmed with work and anxiety, it becomes so intense that we cannot see ahead of ourselves in a productive manner. Slowing down is effective, and will help you in your discernment.

First things first, it is clear you are completely burnt out. That is nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, I was too very recently. You could try to slough through exams this way but it won't be good for you or your grades. So first, what are your options.

Ask for extensions and accessibility support - Contact your school and be honest with them about where you are. Depression is an illness, just like a student coming in and saying they have a physical health condition preventing them from succeeding, you can go in and ask for help. They may be able to offer you extensions on your exams, a different type of exam to take (written instead of multiple choice), or options you may not know exist.

Do what you can, and accept mediocrity - The reality is that you are struggling, and you simply may not be able to do very well right now. Ask for study help, try but accept that you may not do as well as you'd hoped. Put together a study plan aimed at getting through, not being the best. I still encourage speaking to professors and school offices for support so you don't fail but aim for a C and not an A. I am happy to offer a low-effort study guide if that is helpful.

Look into suspending your semester - If things are just too much, and you can't get through it there is no shame in stopping. So many students avoid this because it feels like the end of the world, but it is 100x better to take care of yourself until you feel capable of returning than to hurt yourself to get through. This is not uncommon, and the right offices will help you get there. You matter so much more than school.

Seek professional help - Reach out to a mental health professional right away. Depression isn't something to be fought alone. Most people will need tools like therapy and medication to take care of themselves. If you are unmedicated you could consider trying it as an option. If you are medicated but feel this bad, it is clearly not working and must be adjusted.

Look into the present, past, and future. - You said "nothing excites me anymore" so ask yourself, what did excite you? Why isn't it working now? How can you get there again? These have many answers, and may not be clean-cut. In my own recent discernment, I found that my old work and community excited me and it stopped working because I stopped having access to that work and community. I spent a long time working through it and came to the conclusion the issue was not a lack of effort but that where I was would never have what I wanted. It was not easy, but this exploration lead to me transferring universities and moving states. It was a lot, but it was worth it.

Right now everything will feel impossible, but as someone who just escaped that cycle, it does get better, you will be okay, and you will find passion, energy, and happiness again. Do not give up, and don't stop yourself from asking for help. I am here if you need support any time!

-Evan

[dragonofeternal]

So this year has been really, really good in terms of like... reminding/validating that I'm actually like smart and good at what I do?

Like.

First off, I got my new job which whips ass and is super fun and challenging and pays way better and where my ability to do nine million different things is like very valuable. Like oh yeah, I can reformat this word doc/that powerpoint. Do you want me to do a little bit of graphic design to make this actually look nicer? Oh, you need this video for a presentation but it's on a site other than youtube? Yeah sure, I'll rip it for you. And also just the day-to-day of being able to take good notes, and being able to help copyedit training materials, and generally being a pleasant and mostly on top of things person in the office.

THEN, I took one of Killian's creative writing classes along with them. Which, for one thing, was super fun, good teacher, nice to have an organized space/time to hang out and talk about writing. But also it was really validating to have someone outside of the internet/my inner circle of friends read and critique my work who was like... I dunno another adult/serious writer type person? Our teacher is a published poet -- Though more specifically she's prolific as a TRANSLATOR of poetry. A fair number of the translated Palestinian poets you've seen being posted around tumblr recently are most certainly her work. -- and when she realized the level I was writing at she started critiquing my work a lot harder. Still had nice stuff to say! Just also being willing to dig in and point out places where I could improve.

We actually hung out with her last night at a fellow classmate's band's show and she took both me and Killian aside for expanded critique/thoughts on our final pieces, and said some really nice stuff which included that she sees both of us as like professional-grade writers who should continue to hone their craft and who she really wants to see succeed/get shit published/etc. I'm currently letting a short story (that is... probably gonna end up as a novella orz) that I wrote for class sit before I do another draft of it, and then she's offered to do a more critical line edit for me so I can shop it around and get it published somewhere really good.

(Which is also interesting because I see myself as working very much in genre spaces and she's very in the "literary" sort of mode, and she said that she saw a lot of literary prowess and style in how I wrote which she could see getting it published in a more literary type journal. And that's like a weird/wild thought bc of my complicated thoughts on the way the literary/publishing world looks at and treats genre writing blah blah blah....)

At the SAME show, though, our teacher had brought along a friend, who is also a teacher at the community college. Said friend works for the theatre department and recognized me from volunteering to act at a one-day event last semester for Killian's playwriting class. Like this was an event where I was acting for MAYBE a grand total of fifteen minutes. And she basically said "HEY YOU'RE REALLY GOOD, WHY HAVEN'T I SEEN YOU AT ANY OF THE AUDITIONS?" So then I chatted with her some about how I've done a lot of theatre over the years but time/jobs/money meant I haven't had a chance to in a long time...

But now my job is a 9-5! So I gave her my number and I'm now basically the understudy for if/when someone drops out of the productions currently going on. Apparently they have a lot of issues with people dropping suddenly so it's likely that I'll end up doing something next semester! Which is good cuz like. Damn, do I love the theatre, and I've missed it A LOT.

I dunno just having two different people being really impressed about my creative work in a short time was really, really mood/ego boosting? I dunno. When I last did theater in Pittsburgh I ended up feeling really burnt out by the exhausting sense of always having to hunt for work, feeling like I wasn't good enough, etc... And last year I was struggling a lot with feeling like all my writing was futile/unwanted/etc... So having people remember me and be super complimentary was. Nice.

[coccyodynia]

things:

i went home the other weekend and didn’t steal any pills, as much as i thought about it, so thats kind of cool i guess

i got a very fun and cool tattoo yesterday, its a woman swinging an axe with that line i wrote a few years ago - “i swing and i dont miss”

i am seeing a The Plot In You tonight with justin

we’re planning on hanging out before the show too but the weather is gonna be shitty so who knows, he’ll probably flake out at this point

we’re also planning on going to chicago in a month but im concerned i wont be able to afford it idk. i just stashed away $250 for it but i wouldn’t be surprised if i had to dip into that before then

we’re on okay terms right now. its been a huge rollercoaster as usual but he still wants to keep me around in some type of way i guess bc he’ll respond or say shit like ‘i’m always here for you’

ive been dissociating a lot still but im practicing the skills to get a handle on it

ive officially stopped caring about anything at my job, i just dont give a fuck at all anymore

if i start caring again it will probably kill me, at least considering the rate we were going before 

i had a friend OD twice in the last week or so and im literally just bracing myself to lose another person to fent

its been almost a year without michael now and im still really heartbroken about

i can tell ive started letting my apartment/kitchen get bad again and it’s upsetting me but i feel paralyzed about it

one of my best friends is having a really tough time too and we keep messaging each other little check-ins even though neither of us have the capacity to really support or help the other person in any meaningful way

ive just been way too tapped out lately, and it has been affecting my health for quite awhile

my weight seems to be stable now or at least kinda, i lost 50 lbs and last week for the first time in awhile it didn’t go down when i got on the scale

my parents and grandma all made comments about how they can tell ive lost a lot of weight since i saw them last (6 weeks or so ago?)

my mom has been telling me “youre not eating enough calories” which i think gave me whiplash considering up until now my entire life shes been insistent that i eat too much

my financial situation is really about to get fucked up since im not teaching this summer, so i will lose that income for a few months ($800/month)

im pretty nervous they wont ask me back to teach in the fall bc the head of the department doesnt really like me

i got great evaluations from my students tho! at the end of the semester, two of my students asked if i would be comfortable with giving them a hug and i got emotional

i helped one of my students get into their first gallery show in NY and im just so fucking proud and excited for them

another student had made me a little embroidered camera patch for my bag 

im still very much thinking about applying to graduate/phd programs in the fall

there’s about 5 programs im interested in, but none of them are local so i’d have to move pretty far if i were accepted

im going to re-apply to university of denver for the MA emergent digital practices program

i applied to there in 2021 and was accepted but i wasn’t offered enough financial aid since i applied after the priority deadline so i’ll try it this fall and see what happens

im still dreaming about going to Brown for their digital writing/cross-disciplinary writing and art MFA but it's such a pipe dream

i also found a fascinating phd program at duke but they're not accepting applications this year?

i want to write and photograph more but by the end of the day i am so incredibly burnt out that it seems more like a chore than an outlet

i really wish there was a way for me to just quit my job and take some time off before going into another job

anyway therapy is back to once a week and sometimes 2x a week just depending on how well i handle things

my mom is still being the worst person ive ever met and im really trying to disconnect from her/the family as much as i can

she just spent $500 on a plane ticket so she can go spend a week with the guy she was engaged to in college

she sucks so much and i hate her 

anyway that’s all

[mxbitters]

this is gonna get really personal and possibly more of a vent than mcrposting but now that the shows over i can actually think about it and like. god idk i think fake your death was a song that really meant a lot to me at a time when i really needed it.  it was one of the first songs i taught myself on guitar when i started playing and i could tell myself that, that it wasn’t anyone else who did that but it was me.  and so like, ok i went to this arts high school.  idea is they had these different departments, and so like my first year i went in and decided ok.  music department.  so there were these like.. “auditions” but like you were guaranteed to land somewhere y’know?  but i remember clear as yesterday six years ago i was 14 and fucking miserable with no way of understanding why that was, i was probably wearing this teal and black flannel i had and i was also probably wearing a beanie and fucking hated my hair which was still long at the time.  and i remember like shaking while tuning my guitar and i remember saying what i was gonna play to these maybe two teachers, head of the department didnt even bother showing up, and im sitting there in that uncomfortable plastic chair and they start recording and i start playing.  intro, first half of verse, im not singing but im feeling somewhat more comfortable and start to get into some sort of more involved strumming thing and they just cut me off before i could show them that thing i worked so hard and cared so much about.  and i remember how that moment kicked off a miserable year for me, getting burnt out so fast fingers bleeding from this classical fucking guitarist absolutely drilling in this idea that it was bad if i wanted to play anything with a pick.  and i felt gross and i didn’t understand shit and i remember snapping pick after pick in half from the anxiety and the downward spiral that followed.  and i could barely tell you what i actually remember from that year until some point in may when i came out as trans, maybe around the same time that i started the process of leaving the music department.  and i remember having a lot of trouble playing guitar because of the amount of kids who’d shit on me for writing stuff that was emo.  i think i spent those two semesters and maybe the next year too barely listening to mcr at all because i was embarrassed and ashamed from the way people would shut down that drive, that passion.  but then i remember my drive coming back a little.  i remember having this class in my junior year that was like some school of rock shit, i got to play in a band for the first time and not some stupid thing.  we brought in music we liked and wanted to play.  i brought in against me!’s “borne on the fm waves of the heart” and i remember the way it felt being able to like.. do that.  like that feeling of floating on air that i hadn’t felt ever since that time i started opening up playing fake your death for something i’d end up regretting.  i remember playing up on this mini stage thing at this all-day event we used to have called “peacefest.”  i remember playing with a pick and shout-singing like my life depended on it and i remember seeing that former guitar teacher walk by hiding his face, and i don’t know if it was out of shame or disgust but it was cathartic to see it.  that he failed and didn’t break me, even if that was the last thing on his mind.  i still have the converse i had to fill in with black sharpie because it was “too unprofessional” for a fucking high school performance.  i also still have the footstand he let me use for that performance because it was more important that i was uniform than anything else.  and he’s never getting that fucking footstand back.  and i remember that summer i think i finally picked up my own guitar and played fake your death.  a little different, acoustic, keeping my pinkie on that g the majority of the time and letting the song carry me.  it felt like meeting an old friend.  an old friend who waited for me even when things got scary and i didn’t know what to do.  and like.. i dunno.  i never really thought they’d actually get back together and i was starting to truly accept that but then one day everything changed and it was history.  

i think i’ve been at a low point for a bit now, and college has created this mindset where playing music=burden so i’ve been uninspired and sort of restraining myself alongside the depression but like.. man.  maybe it’s time to pick up my guitar again.  i think fake your death is one of those songs that means one thing at one point in your life and another like.. in another.  and i think that was honestly probably the same case for mcr y’know..?  and like.. idk.  maybe while i’m at it i’ll dig through the vaults aka try and find lyrics, poetry, recordings, whatever.  like..  man.  i just keep forgetting how magical music is but tonight was fucking magical and i want to feel that regularly.  i want the sparks to fucking fly i want to scream i want to play i want to let that poor 14 year old with the nerd glasses and the jack skellington beanie play the same 4 chords in varying ways for 3 whole minutes and hold their hand and tell them it’s gonna be ok.  like i think i really need to do that.  anyway ok goodnight

[mx-werebat]

Tbh I don't care about the dropping out. Legit do not give a fuck /gen

And yeah, I'll try not to burn myself out, but currently everything doing it rn, so we'll see. Spring burnout has hit and I hate it. I knew it was going to happen though.

I always get really bad burnout in the last quarter/semester of the school year, but I manage to end up with good grades in the end. I actually just got my report card for quarter three!! I got two b's and everything else was an a. I don't know how I manage to get good grades, I'm so bad about completing things on time because of executive dysfunction and procrastination, ahhhhhhhhh /lh

I feel the burnout part. School was like.. Really fucking bad for my health both mentally and physically and I'd get burnt out often. It sucks because school used to be an escape for me, family issues, but then all the shit started happening so there wasn't an escape. Nowdays I bury myself in tumblr and nostalgia and sleep and whatnot.

Excecutive dysfunction is also a pain in the ass, makes me unable to do a lot of things I actually want to do hh. Like eat. It often gets in the way of me getting a proper meal but I've had to start teaching myself that just saying whatever the fuck I can manage is better than not having dinner. I really suck at taking care of myself. /lh

Speaking of tumblr mention I hope my mutuals know I appreciate them (this includes you /gen) and that oh my god I really wish some would chat in my inbox more. I may act like I bite but I don't

This is me /hj, I promise I don't bite

[brideymee]

Eportfolio

Starting Out

As a very introverted person I thought coming into uni would be scary and nerve racking, which it was at first. The aspect of not knowing anyone and being afraid to ask questions because you don't want to embarrass yourself can be very hard along with the far commute and not wanting to be that one late person to a class. Throughout the week I slowly allowed myself to feel more confident in my surroundings and was not afraid to speak out a bit more in my classes, which was definitely helped by making a couple of friends.By the end of my first week I realised I had nothing to worry about and making friends was very easy. The transition from holiday mode back into school mode was most likely the most difficult part as I had to remember how to write essays and time management but the RMIT assignment planner has already helped me to figure out my time management skills and makes everything so much clearer so I don't leave things to the last minute. Overall my first week of Uni was better than i expected and have already been allowed multiple amazing opportunities. I am very excited for the next 3 years. https://emedia.rmit.edu.au/dlsweb/learninglab/AssignmentPlanner/

Teamwork

For the last 3 weeks we have been working and producing a group report. That group report was finally submitted on Sunday the 27th of august. Throughout the process of writing the report a lot of team work and team communication was involved. As I have never worked with these members in a group assignment, I was unsure of each person's work ethic and how they would go about completing their tasks. At the planning stage of the report everyone was very involved and decided what parts they were going to do and very open with their methods of research and how they were going to go about their reviews, this did steer in a downward direction for a little while just as many of us didn’t know where to start from. Towards the writing part of the report some members still had not done some of the essential work needed to start on the assignment  which was a little bit difficult but all members still knew that we would get the assignment done on time. Time Management was a harder concept for me at the time because I was so focused on many subjects that quite often I would forget the due date but it started getting closer and closer. If I had to go back and review my actions I would have talked to the lecturer sooner about the way I was going about my research as I had not done this type of essay before rather than putting the pressure on myself of being stressed on whether work was actually being done or not. The peer-reviewed article on team motivation is a reflection method for me because it help me to realise how sometimes in group assignments and productions that people get burnt out and unmotivated which then slows them down from their full potential along with the teamwork survey that allows you to pinpoint strengths and weaknesses from the overall process. This review on my teamwork has now helped me with how I go about other group tasks within classes as I now can see that everyone works at different paces but can always get the work done in the end.

https://acrobat.adobe.com/id/urn:aaid:sc:AP:14658aab-2868-4bbf-b556-9f5b57a46e62

REFERENCES: Gardner. H., (2012). Performance Pressure as a Double-edged Sword: Enhancing Team Motivation but Undermining the Use of Team Knowledge. Administrative Science Quarterly, 57(1), 1–46. https://doi.org/10.1177/0001839212446454

Self-management: motivation and resilience

Going into my mid semester break with multiple assignments due in a short period of time, figuring out a productive study plan for the week deems essential to maximise my time. The task of balancing my uni and external responsibilities has been tough especially when there are upcoming assignments and warmer weather coming along. I manage to share the responsibility by attempting to wake up earlier in the day and with my free moments just doing smaller amounts of study to get things done but not feel like it's a drag to sit at my computer all day instead of being social. I have also found that by doing the majority of my studies throughout the week and leaving my weekends as free as possible definitely allows me to have a mental break. This keeps me motivated going into the following week. When coming back from the mid semester break the method of truly focusing on my dedicated time to study will need to be improved as procrastinating does hold me back from completing simple tasks and then leaving them to the last minute which creates more stress.

[impoverishedrat]

Final Project

Before I begin, sorry Merlin, this post is longer than I expected. But I hope it’s an interesting read as I had a lot of fun attempting this project! 

Also I think Tumblr desaturated some of my screenshots D:

-------

For our final project, I opted for personal branding since I was more familiar with myself than CNM, and also because it seemed like a nice opportunity for self-exploration, especially in the last few weeks of the semester where we tend to get pretty lost about who we are and what we are even doing with our lives.

I first created a moodboard for the vibe I was going for. I love the sky, especially sunsets! Most people find sunsets comforting, but I find them fun too. Every sunset is a reminder that the sky isn’t just the same boring blue. I know many people may not see the fun side of sunsets like I do, but I wanted my brand to feel just like how sunsets feel to me. 

Logo

I wanted to include my name in it; not my actual name, since people tend to have difficulties remembering Chinese names. Perhaps my initials or a shortened version.

The squiggle

This looks like my handwriting, and it has my initials. I like its minimalism but it’s too elegant.

I continued exploring different ways of portraying my initials, and it suddenly hit me: what about jigsaws? I’m a huge fan of puzzles — jigsaws, rubik’s cube, sudoku, literally anything. I think that says a lot about me: I love problem-solving, and I have a great deal of patience. Those are personal traits that I would want to portray through my logo.

I went through a handful of drafts before arriving at my final logo. Initially, I envisioned using both my initials (MH), but I had issues with the letter M. I tried using both regular and irregular jigsaws, before deciding to focus on H which looks a lot more compatible with jigsaws. It took me long before I finally realised that there’s a jigsaw piece that looks like the capital H (Draft 4), but I had some qualms about using that on its own as my logo. I felt that people would only think of it as a jigsaw, and no one would associate it with the letter H, so I sent that to my friends and they confirmed my thoughts. Thus in my final logo, I included more of my name so that people will read my logo as a word, and associate the jigsaw with “H” as well (gestalt principle: proximity). I used Cooper Black since its curves complement the curves of the jigsaw, and edited the corners of the jigsaw to match the slightly sharp edges of the letters (gestalt principle: similarity).

I considered using the jigsaw on its own as a responsive logo, but decided against it as I really wanted people to interpret it as “H” as well. If I do end up using this brand in the future and it gains some traction, perhaps I’ll reconsider again. 

My friend said draft 3 looked like a giraffe, inspiring me to make another giraffe icon that looks like “h”, since giraffes are chill and so am I.

Chill, until they fight

The giraffe

I still preferred my jigsaw logo, but we had to bring 3 logos to tutorial so I brought the squiggle and giraffe along too. My classmates really liked the jigsaw logo and I used that eventually.

Brand colours

I had to include burnt sienna. It’s not my favourite colour, but I have a bag that’s burnt sienna and every time a friend sees me with it for the first time, they always comment that the colour suits me a lot. I don’t get that often, so there must be something about burnt sienna. It’s a common sunset colour, and it’s also inviting, comforting, yet adventurous and fun. I like the connotations associated with it.

To complement it, I included yellow, an equally warm colour, and blue as a contrasting colour to balance them out. I also had neutrals – ivory and charade. Ivory is a warmer shade of white, and charade is less glaring than black, which fits in better with my other colours. As a whole, the brand colours looked fun, which was what I wanted.

I couldn’t decide which colour to use for my logo though. I like the burnt sienna variation but both felt warm and inviting. Eventually, I stuck to burnt sienna after my classmates pointed out during tutorial that yellow could be too in-your-face and less versatile.

Typography

Since I used Cooper Black in my logo, I wanted to use it in my brand too. I like its friendly look and it’s a good match with the style of jigsaws. However, it’s not the best typeface to read in for body text when there are many words, so I used Futura PT for that as it looks friendly too due to its round, sans-serif nature, but more readable. 

Business card pt 1

My initial designs. (the blue and yellow jigsaws aren’t by me, I took an online jigsaw template and converted them to vectors using Image Trace. I was going to make my own vectors after I confirm my design)

I ended up using version 1 as it’s more cohesive with my brand, as I saw myself repeating the jigsaw motif. I used my brand colours for the contact details on the back to make it less plain. But when I looked at the front again days later as I assembled my style guide on InDesign, I thought it looked ugly due to my exclusion zone. There was too much space between my logo and the scattered jigsaws.

Style guide

Short interruption to talk about selected pages in my style guide as they will be relevant in explaining my eventual business card design.

I found the Google image when I was searching for inspiration for my business card, but I found the design more appropriate for the cover page because it reminds me of presentation slide designs. Anyway, I thought the displaced jigsaw adds to the fun style and makes the design interesting. That jigsaw is actually the jigsaw H from my logo, but I’m using it as a secondary graphic instead.

To create the other jigsaws, I first used the shape tool to form rectangles the same size as the jigsaw H. Then, I used pathfinder’s minus front mode to isolate the protruding parts and the blanks, and the unite mode to join them with the rectangles. I wonder if there’s an easier way though, as this was time-consuming.

Problem: I wasn’t exactly sure how to present this page. I think the visual layout can be improved for clarity.

I looked at some references and realised that they split up the different secondary graphics when presenting them, but I guess that’s because they can’t actually combine the graphics too. But jigsaws can be split up or pieced together, so I was in a bit of a dilemma at this point. I wasn’t sure which option would be better, so I kept the pieces together to see what my classmates would feedback during critique.

Business card pt 2

Back to my business card. I decided to tap on my secondary elements and have something similar to my cover page where the pieces are assembled together.

And I got this, inspired by a song I was listening to. The lyrics would translate to “I’m like a puzzle missing a piece, what a jarring void”. I wasn’t going for that emo mood but I realised I can get rid of some pieces to make the design interesting, instead of having everything pieced nicely together. I was concerned that one missing piece would be too jarring though so I got rid of all the jigsaw Hs, also because it feels weird if I got rid of one piece and kept the other. Still attention-seeking (I think), but not to the point of being jarring. Previously, my business card had rounded corners as I wanted a friendlier look. However, I think sharp corners suit the current design better, else the yellow jigsaw on the top left corner will be cut off by the rounded corner. Another reason was because I coloured the jigsaw outlines the same colour as the card to create a tiny distance between each piece. Without outlines, the design felt stifling to me.

As a result of adding outlines, the pieces on the edges exceeded the card boundary, like in the image above. Initially, I inserted my cards into InDesign as images since I can crop out the exceeded edges, but I realised that after 2 rounds of exporting (once as images, the 2nd time as the pdf style guide), the colours change slightly and they no longer match my exact brand colours, though they look alike. To remain faithful to my colours, I reverted to pasting from Illustrator into InDesign, and added rectangles near the edges of the card to cover the exceeded jigsaw edges. The sharp card corners are helpful in this aspect as I’ll need more than just rectangles to cover the exceeded edges if I had used rounded corners.

Rectangles

Resume

In my name card, I wrote that I’m a graphic designer and translator. However, since I don’t have any experience in graphic design outside of this module, I included everything that’s related to translation in my resume. I also included my CCAs as it felt obligatory as a student.

After I pasted all the information and trimmed the text, I realised it still has many words. Personally, I wouldn’t say it’s too wordy, but I think it can be subjective. I also coloured the headers and subheaders for all my sections in one brand colour each, besides ivory since that’s the background colour. I kept the body text in charade so that it’s easier to read. 

However, something still felt off. My resume also seemed less appealing than the other aspects of my style guide. Anyway, after I submitted my style guide for critique, I realised that the body text for CCA was in black, not charade, oops. I still thought that section felt darker due to the charade headers and subheaders. But I think that played a role too, as it still looks dark (albeit better) after I rectified the colour.

Post-critique edits

1. Added typography use as I missed that out

2. Secondary Graphics

I split up the jigsaws as some of my classmates had issues interpreting what the page was about, affirming that the previous visual layout was indeed unclear. I considered including examples of potential designs by pasting screenshots of my cover page and business card but I had no idea how to format the images without destroying the aesthetics of the page, so I lengthened the text explanation to let the viewer know that they can refer to those examples. I also received feedback that the jigsaws looked like they were in the middle of nowhere, but I realised I happen to have 16 unique jigsaw pieces so I can put them in a 4x4 layout, so hopefully this layout is clearer!

I also edited the guidelines, since the previous one was based on the premise of the jigsaws being joined together.

3. Business card

Some of my classmates said the missing jigsaw Hs looked jarring; some said it looks fine. The consensus was that leaving blanks adds dimension to design, and I had a really interesting comment saying that I shouldn’t change the design even if the blanks may appear jarring as it attracts attention when people wonder “why got blank”, and that's perfect for a business card. Hence, I kept the design and shifted my logo inwards for more breathing space, based on feedback.

4. Resume

Feedback:

Using charade for CCA makes the entire section look dull in comparison, and it also attracts more attention to it 

Some think it’s wordy, some think it’s not wordy; ultimately, it depends on my target audience as different audiences have different resume preferences

The jigsaws on the top right corner look too colourful. The use of jigsaws under “Skills” is enough to convey my brand

I made pretty big changes here. Firstly, I received a suggestion to colour the body texts of the respective sections in a darker shade of the header’s colour, but the texts were hard to read when I tried it. I think burnt sienna, blue, and yellow just aren’t that ideal to read in regardless of their shade. Besides, Futura PT Book uses thinner strokes, so that plus light colours = eye pain. Thus, I kept the body text in charade for readability, and stopped using charade for headers and subheaders to get rid of the problems of dullness and attracting more attention. 

Secondly, I reduced words by replacing the CCA section with “Interests”. “Education” and “Experience” are both closely linked to translation, and I can’t cut the job descriptions as translation is broad, ranging from casual content like food recipes and audiovisual subtitles to formal business contracts. If I submit this resume for translation work, I need the job descriptions so my audience knows what texts I have experience in. If I submit this for graphic design, the previous version doesn’t reveal much about what I can do besides my proficiency in Adobe suite. Thus, I removed CCA since it doesn’t value-add to translation/graphic design, and I drew my interests using Illustrator’s pen and shape tools as a visual representation for what I am capable of designing. 

Other minor edits:

Acted on feedback and replaced the jigsaws on the top right with small, scattered jigsaws

Removed the jigsaw ‘timeline’ in each section as my resume looked cluttered

Increased leading for body text to 18pt so my body text looks less like a wall of words

Created the proficiency scales with the line tool initially; replaced them with slightly-rounded rectangles as that suits the block-like aesthetics of jigsaws better

5. Changed my mockup to something less formal to suit my brand

And that concludes my final project! Although it was very time-consuming, it was also very fulfilling. Let me end this with a short story: before another module’s lecture, I showed my Illustrator workspace to my friends for 1 minute to get their opinion on my initial business card designs. I also showed them the first few pages of my style guide. I saw them for tutorial again the next day, and I was searching for jigsaw templates online as references. One of them glanced over at my laptop and she was like, “Oh you’re doing your style guide?” Woah, I was quite happy that she actually remembered my jigsaw motif although she only saw my work for a minute the previous day haha. And so I persevered, and now I’m finally done. Huge thanks to my classmates and Merlin for the feedback; I found the critique for this project to be especially useful!

[kjeffcoatsvad]

Process Blog 1/27/23

This week we finished our second project DOGS! I redid the sketches from last week. I drew some more profiles and a full body pose. Here are my new sketches.

I was not sure which sketch to choose. I literally stared at these for hours. I sent the images (1-15) to about twenty people and conducted an unofficial survey. I wanted to know what looked the most appealing to the public. I asked the participants to pick 2 out of the 15 sketches that they liked the most. I found a couple of flaws in my survey. Some of the surveys were sent in a group chat (the people in the group would influence each other’s decisions). The second major flaw was that sketch #1 was bigger than the rest of the sketches. Which draws your eye to it more than the others. If I were to do another survey on another project, I would conduct it in a more formal way and send it out, to avoid these problems. The top dogs ;) from this survey were sketch #1 and #15. I picked number 15. I really liked #1 and the profile of it, but I didn’t want it to get mistaken as a husky. I also thought the full body of the German Shepard looked more dynamic.

After I choose my sketch, I started with the pen tool in Illustrator. This was my third time using the pen tool in Illustrator and I forgot how frustrating this was! Even though I’m somewhat familiar with it, it was still challenging to me. After I finished my dog in illustrator, I had to choose a color for my design I went through a lot of colors, but I ended up using a green color. I choose this color because my German Shepherd, Heidi, loves tennis balls. Which the color of tennis balls are green, so that’s why I choose that color. I did not make it the same shade of green because the lighter and brighter the shade the less my dog stood out. So, I darkened the green color. Here is my finished DOG!

On Tuesday during our class time, we had a workshop with Kate Bingaman-burt. Where we learned how to make Zines. My zine was inspired by how I feel burnt out. This week has been a rollercoaster since Monday morning, and I had a lot of pent-up stress. Weirdly drawing this zine made me feel a little less stressed out. I’m not in love with how it looks, and the craftsmanship needs some improvement, but overall, it was very therapeutic. 

This Week in the reading we talked about the structure of type. Since I’m out of sequence with the typography classes this was useful to me, and I will be bookmarking this chapter it clarified so much that I did not understand last semester about type structure. I found the section on the proportion of letter forms to be helpful. Last semester when I experimented with hand lettering, I had some sizing issues along with legibility problems. I was trying hard to make a stylized hand lettered font on a logo project, but I never fully understood the basic concepts, and tried doing something too advanced for the time. I already want to re-read this chapter!

[phanomeheart]

Thinking of you! Hope you are good!

Aw thank you <3 I was literally just thinking about you over the weekend when I couldn’t pick a new book to start and was thinking maybe I should check out your ao3. Perhaps we had a psychic moment.

I’ve been good! I haven’t been around much on tumblr/in fandom space, mostly busy with work and reading a lot of books, and I got a cat finally! So I just stare at him a lot. I spent the weekend learning how to crochet because he really likes the texture of our one crocheted blanket. I made him a little one for his bed (which he showed almost no interest in previously) and he spent like the whole day on it, so that was very rewarding.

I hope you’ve been well too! I have been missing checking up on folks over here, and now of course dnp are doing what they always do and trying to drag be back in just when I think I’ve managed to escape. That video...sure was something! I’m looking forward to catching up with the live show, it seems like it was great as well.

[yrbutchgf]

hi, i'm really sorry if you've answered this before, but how would you define butch? i went with the wlw-centric definition for a long time (i.e a wlw who rejects femininity, etc), but since learning that any lgbt person can be butch/femme i've been wondering how exactly to define it in my mind, to know if that's me, if that makes sense.

hi! sorry this took so long for me to get back around to, i burnt out harrrd at the end of this last semester. but i wanted to follow through on this, because i think it's an important thing to talk and think about.

being as they started as part of ballroom and bar culture, the terms butch and femme obviously have a large relational component to them -- i.e., butch/femme as a dynamic or relationship. but butch and femme obviously are also standalone identities, however intrinsically linked they are to that dynamic to begin with. talking about either the dynamic or the individual as though either understanding is the full definition of butch identity would be reductive.

butchness as identity can mean a lot of things to a lot of different people. for me, butchness is part of my gender identity and the way i understand myself. it's seen me through many years and sexuality crises; whenever i was unsure of what my sexuality was, my rock in all of it was knowing deep down that i was butch. it's the link between myself, my gender, and my sexuality, the sole constant. this is why i always struggle to define what "butch" is, because butchness has meant a lot of different things to me, let alone the myriad different butch experiences that are out there. it would be like if someone asked me to define what men or women are.

for me butchness is pretty much just the way i navigate masculinity. it's an lgbt intention that i take to masculinity that makes it loose and counternormative, but somehow also classic and rooted, intrinsically linked, to the long history of other butches who have done the same. here's some answers others from the butch/femme discord i'm in gave:

lev shalem/james @ganon:

the way i've been defining it in my head in the most broad sense (like when i was discussing the meaning of my flags) is essentially "a specifically LGBT masculinity" which can manifest in a lot of ways ofc, and obvs not all lgbt people who are masc are also butch, so i'd say [...] there's the working class history that affects the energy, there's the way you feel that your identity interacts with other identities [like butch4femme and butch4butch ...] is your masculinity critical to you? does it feel like you've had to take it for yourself, or grow into it, discover it, learn to love it, learn to not care if other people love it? does it help you to feel firm and sure where without it you felt unkempt? does it make You just make more sense? that's what butch is for me.

someone also shared a quote from an interview at a Studs and Butches photoshoot:

Collier Schorr: I think there's so many butch aesthetics, just like there's so many masculine aesthetics, and I always kind of go back to gay men and the clone era, the 70s and eighties, and you know all those things construction worker, leather daddy and the preppy...

freddie @rustedsun said:

i see it as masculinity that’s subversive bc it comes from LGBT people, like how obv women are expected to be feminine but also gay + bi men are expected to be less “real men” than cishet men so it throws people off that that’s not true, and trans men aren’t “supposed” to be men at all, so to me it’s masculinity that defies the role that’s expected of u in some way. And it’s genuine self expression that brings u joy, it’s about being part of a community, it’s not just going along with a part that was assigned to u or looking down on others for expressing themselves more femininely, there’s gotta be love for other gnc people and oppressed people, and it’s not as rigid as cishet masculinity, in fact i think it often parodies and plays around with cishet ideas of what masculinity “should” be.

someone also recommended the books butch is a noun by s bear bergman and gender failure by ivan e. coyote, noting that an answer for what butchness is will always be complex.

many of the people above also expressed, alongside the personal and individual meaning butchness has to them, the fact that their butchness is defined by a sense of community. this relationship between a butch and their communities -- lgbt, gnc, trans, butch/femme -- is so intrinsic to the meaning of butchness that you can't even really talk about it without it coming up. butchness craves community and history. in a lot of ways, butchness itself is a form of community and history, one in which people defy the role they were given and discover a new way to love oneself and each other.