#a lot of our poems are like that though regardless of how we feel while writing them

[thethingything]

do you ever look back at poems you've written and think "wow I was going through some shit?"

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for using a poem I wrote for my ex-girlfriend to apply for a scholarship?

I'm pretty sure that I'm not TA here, we're still on good terms anyway and it's unlikely she'll ever even find out about this unless I outright tell her, but I'd like to know if I'm committing some grievous social faux pas here.

So. I (21F) met my ex-girlfriend, who we'll call Jolene (22F) online a couple years back. The specifics of how we met will make it immediately obvious to anyone who knows either of us that it's me writing the AITA post, so I'm going to leave those out, but we were friends for a while before she asked me out, and it's relevant that we became friends over writing. We hit it off pretty well for a while, to the point where I wrote a poem being incredibly gay for her despite not (then) being much of a poet at all.

And then I went to visit her in person. Y'see, she'd come to visit me in person the previous winter, and that went fine, barring the fact that I ended up being super overwhelmed by the end of the visit—suffice to say that I'm extremely asexual, and she's extremely not. This came to a head when I went to visit her, she constantly wanted to be hanging out and doing things, and I straight up could not handle that much social interaction with anyone for that long. It got to the point where I was straight up dreading being with her, so I took a step back, examined my feelings, and decided yeah, we'd probably be better off as friends or as queerplatonic partners or something nonromantic.

We're still on fairly good terms, I'd say? Though I still feel extremely awkward over the circumstances of said breakup, she can't change how she is and I can't change how I am, and she's really happy with her new girlfriend so. Hell yeah. We love to see it. (There's also the additional complication that I might be something approaching arospec, but. Y'know. Details.)

Fast forward to today, several months after our breakup. I'm applying for scholarships for my university. I happen to be going for an English major and one of the available scholarships involves submitting up to 5 poems of any length. I remember, abruptly, the poem I wrote for her, go looking in our DMs, and—yep, there it is. Still incredibly gay.

Between that and some haikus about wildlife (long story), that brings my count of poems up to four of the five total allowed. I haven't submitted the application yet, but I've only got four days left to, and I absolutely don't have to submit my extremely gay poem alongside the wildlife haikus, I'm looking at the application right now and it says up to 5 poems of any length, presumably implying that I can have anywhere from 1-5 poems in that document.

But... I really want to. I'm not romantically in love with Mabel anymore, and while our personalities don't mesh super well these days, I still care about her a lot and if this is some giant social faux pas I'm unaware of (I'm unaware of a lot of those, I've never gotten formally diagnosed with anything but I highly doubt I'm remotely neurotypical if that's relevant) and it feels kind of like a way of saluting the relationship that was good while it lasted?

Also, and possibly more relevantly to the scholarship thing, it's a halfway decent poem. Nothing award-winning, but I'll never get any scholarships if I don't try for them, y'know? ...And I kind of really need the scholarships, due to reasons best brought up in an entirely different AITA post involving my mom.

So. Uh. Yeah. I know what I'll be doing regardless, no way this gets a solid judgment before it's time to submit, but I do want to know if it's an AH move or not. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[animehouse-moe]

My Happy Marriage Episode 1: The Meeting

Once more, a series that I've been meaning to read for the better part of a year has beat me to the punch by delivering an anime for me to indulge in. Kinema Citrus wasn't who I thought would be behind this adaptation, nor did I think Netflix would land it. However, it seems it somehow is the perfect storm for a shoujo series that arguably has the potential to be the best adapted in recent memory. Seriously, there's a world of praise to give this first episode, so I'd love to shed some light on why everybody should be tuning in for this story.

So, to begin we'll start with both the beginning and the end. A bit confusing maybe, but the episode opens and ends with the same format, our main character Miyo telling her story through a poem. I think it's really beautiful, and very powerful. I love how she uses the various seasons to depict the story of her life, the warmth and happiness, the sorrow and loss, the cold and bitterness, and then the buds and blooms of happiness. I think a lot of people may look past the words of Miyo for what's in the moment, but both are equally as important in telling her story, especially in such a succinct yet roundabout fashion.

There's just so much to talk about through this pair of scenes alone. My favorite piece though has to be how Miyo equates the existence of the Sakura tree to the ability for herself to be happy. That the child that she once was is whisked away by the blossoms that will fall and be forgotten, and that those memories and experiences will always be taken away from her, like her mother's Sakura tree was. But then at the end of the episode, the first thing we notice is that behind Kiyoka exists a Sakura tree. One that's in blossom and bestows Miyo with a single petal. Just such a beautiful moment that shows viewers that Miyo's life can, and will, contain happiness in this new home she's been forced into.

Anyways, back to the beginning we go. There's definitely piece that play a little close to stereotypes and cliches that viewers may be used to, particularly in regards to how Miyo is treated by her younger sister that was born from a different mother (the current wife of Miyo's father). I wouldn't say it's terrible or rough, but I think it's something you may chuckle at here and there because you may be used to it. The mother on the other hand? I feel like they do a really solid job of depicting her as Miyo's adoptive mother while also being explicitly hostile towards a daughter that isn't hers. A bit of a Cinderella story you might say, but with a traditional Japanese twist to it.

Just as quickly as this episode is to show us what Miyo's life is like, it's equally as eager to show off the impressive work with composition and lighting. Just a simple scene of Miyo in front of glass in a hallway, but the detail, colors, and subtle effects in regards to it create a very striking still image.

To continue my eager praise for the visual work in this episode, I really like how effectively they use the indoor and outdoor settings. All of the cuts and scenes from outdoors are far more spacious and usually focus on wider layouts than the cramped and limited indoor ones. A really nice touch that adds quite the feel to the content of the episode.

Regardless of praise, the story still does move on though as we get introduced to a friend/crush of Miyo's, Kouji. A somewhat meek but very heartfelt boy that visits her family often. I really like his position throughout the story, but in this initial stretch I really enjoy how it is that he interacts with Miyo, being her sole attachment to the world outside the home she lives in. Also once more, that sense of space is being used quite well.

Also just a little aside with the above scene. The soundtrack really is great at matching emotions and tensions, but I think what may end up one of the more underrated pieces is the reserved inclusion of traditional Japanese music. It's used very sparingly, and in all the right moments to pair with the correct scenes.

Of course, this is a sort of Cinderella story, so that warm and bright relationship that this pair share does not last long. That bright and warm sunshine is later replaced with a dull and gray tone that weighs upon the world. And the space that they once shared naturally becomes awkward distance. I really, really do love how they approach the fracturing of Kouji and Miyo's relationship through this episode. Starting off with both warm colors and proximity, we soon begin to lose that vibrance before the space between the two widens.

It's a pretty harsh scene, really. Kouji knowing he's coming to be married off to Miyo's sister Kaya, and Miyo getting her hopes up thinking she'd be getting married to Kouji. Thankfully they do a great job with Kouji's character through it all. His frustration and regret are very palpable, and the included scene of Kouji talking things over with his father to try and save Miyo from that household was a really thoughtful addition. Of course, it still means that Miyo's isolated. From the one person that treated her normally, to the family home that she's lived in all this time, to the remnants of the Sakura tree left behind by her mother. It's very well drawn out emotionally, and makes use of quite a few parallels and other moments from earlier on in the episode.

In particular, I really love how the gap and distance between Kouji and Miyo is shown post-engagement. Using things like windows or stance to show avoidance and separation is really well done. Especially when the only time Miyo faces Kouji head on during their final conversation is to thank him and bid him farewell.

This stretch of the episode does very well with Miyo's emotions and mental state, through quite a few pieces. I think the moment that best matches up with how to describe or show how Miyo feels is the engagements. Believing she had a chance to be married to Kouji, she checks her reflection in the mirror before entering the room. However, on departure to travel to her actual fiancé's home she briskly walks past that same mirror. It's a really solid show of the duality that exists for Miyo, the young and plain girl who wishes to be pretty and be together with the young man that she loves, and the so-called beautiful woman that's been sent off to marry someone she's never met.

Moving forward, we get a handful of scenes of Miyo travelling to meet her new fiancé with flashes of her past mixed in. Arguably, it's the best time for them to have chosen to insert those pieces of her past. An empty and silent section that allows Miyo to reflect upon her previous life, it just fits quite well. Though I'd be lying if I said that was my favorite part of her travelling. My favorite was certainly all the wonderful visuals and scenes throughout. The composition work on this series is just something else. How the different forms of lighting interact with one another and produce layers upon the various characters and pieces of the environment is just stellar. It's just so impressive how much range there is in the colors and approaches of all these scenes.

This second one in particular really impresses me, because usually with such bright scenes like this you'll just have blown out highlights, but what's actually going on is a different story. In that washed out white light, there's actually details of the buildings that pass Miyo by. A very small and easy to neglect detail, but for me, it shows the dedication, quality, and ability placed in all facets of these scenes.

And from here we meet up with where I spoke of the ending first, Miyo meeting her new fiancé and that feeling of happiness sneaking back into her life.

I think the story at a surface level is rather straightforward, but provides a great deal of depth (which makes it challenging to discuss without spending ages on a single moment). Take, for example, the one servant we see in Kiyoka's household. It's an older woman that uses "bocchan" to refer to Kiyoka, showing that she's been an attendant for a very long time with Kiyoka while also speaking to the more casual relationship that she has with him. Similarly, it also shows that Kiyoka either has no interest in younger servants, or that newer ones aren't willing to work in his household.

Regardless, the point has been made. The story has a lot to it that makes it incredibly easy for viewers to sink into and spend ages atomizing into little details and important aspects of all the characters, but isn't required to understand and appreciate the story at large. I knew what I was getting into with the story however, given the reviews and praise I've heard for it, so the part that surprised me most is the visual through this first episode. There's not any incredible animation, but it isn't required either for a more down to earth drama. Because of that, the focus on quality has shifted elsewhere to areas like lighting and composition, and you can tell they've done some incredible work alongside the subdued but well fitted direction.

All in all, I'm very excited to see how Kinema Citrus fares with this adaptation, and am very much looking forward to indulging in this outstanding story.

[maximumcheese]

Playing Cards - They Stand Shoulder to Shoulder 2

Location: ES

Hiiro: I told you that…I had a talk with Tenshouin-senpai before our conversation on the phone in the rose garden, right?

Mayoi: Yes. On the car ride home…You had told us that you were in the office reading fan letters.

Hiiro: It was a confusing, unclear series of questions and answers. However, from that moment on, I really began to care.

How will I meet my fans’ expectations? How should I grant Tenshouin-senpai’s wishes? What is an idol, even?

I was told to think a lot about it, and I’ve been really thinking about until today but—

In the end, I wasn’t able to answer that question for myself. On reflection, since I was a little kid, nothing has changed.

Tatsumi: Since you were a little kid?

Hiiro: Even at that time, I would always keep thinking about what Nii-san had asked me.

At that time, I had an answer in mind, more-or-less but—

Because I didn’t want to disappoint him by saying the wrong thing, so I thought that I just wanted to think about it more carefully.

Because, if you cannot give the right answer, it’s the same as being unable to fulfill your duty. It’s only meaningful to answer the question when you have the right answer, right?

Aira: Yeah? But it’s not a problem on a test, it’s just a question, right?

It’s not like a test at school where you get a score, so isn’t it harder to give an answer that fits perfectly?

It’d make me happy to hear your thoughts on just that, Hiro-kun.

I look at you, who can do anything, and there’s times where I think to myself “What the hell is guy?” and get super frustrated.

If even Hiro-kun is worrying and thinking like this, I can see that we’re really just the similar in that way.

Hiiro: …hm. I wish I could have a flexible way of thinking like you, Aira.

This time around though, I understood that both back then and now, I’m only brooding about, and that I have no confidence in the conclusion I reached. I felt like I didn’t grow.

Tatsumi: Don’t be so hard on yourself.

While you are bold enough to take action, on the other hand, you are also capable of holding your ground to make a careful judgment—

Hiiro-san, isn’t it possible that your virtue to thoughtfully react to questions has stayed the same since you were a child?

Mayoi: That’s right. And you have had a lot of growth, too.

Compared to when we first met, you’ve grown dramatically in singing, dancing, and movements. If you can take my word for it, I can guarantee that.

Being a person who doesn’t know much about idols, I’m amazed at the amount of growth you’ve accomplished over just one summer.

Even if you’re not similar to the others, we can work on the parts that you feel inexperienced at from this point on. Because we will help you as much as you need…♪

Aira: Senpais, you’re very parent-like when you say that.[1]

Hiiro: Was that just a haiku? No, if you don’t use the seasonal word, isn’t it considered a senryu haiku?[2]

Aira: No, I’m not reciting a poem…

Hiiro: Fufu. Thank you all for really talking with me a lot.

If only I could have answered with self-confidence. If only I could have been able to take action for Alkaloid, with my own judgment…

I feel very guilty for the crisis that I have caused to everyone, and I will reflect upon my actions.

To know that I have comrades who are close to me, it’s very reassuring. I feel more light-hearted now.

Mayoi: We are happy to see your smile, too, Hiiro-san…♪

Tatsumi & Aira: ……♪

Hiiro: Like Mayoi-senpai said, I was able to grow a lot.

I’ve come to learn the common sense of the city, and of course, there are countless things I’ve gained since becoming an idol…For me too, I’m sure I figured out a couple of things, too.

I’ll think more optimistically from here on again. For a clear answer to Tenshouin-senpai, and what I can do for Alkaloid.

Tatsumi: That’s right. There is nothing that you have to face by yourself, Hiiro-san.

The fact that a good result is required of Alkaloid, it’s a problem that affects the entire unit.

Sooner or later, regardless of who started it, we would have something to confront.

Aira: I think if I had started it, and if Tenshouin-senpai had come at me like that…To be honest, it’s a scary thought.

That’s why it’s great that Hiro-kun thinks through everything and speaks up about it properly ♪ You’re fine! Have some self-confidence!

Hiiro: It’s a bit of a strange feeling to get praised by you, Aira.

Aira: Hah~? I’m trying to cheer you up here!

Tatsumi: There, there. It’s embarrassing to get praised by Aira-san, isn’t it, Hiiro-san?

Aira: Eh~? Then choose that kind of language from the start.

Mayoi: ………

Hiiro: Why are you so quiet, Mayoi-senpai?

Mayoi: While I was listening to your pleasant conversation I…I began to think again.

I thought about what I’d like to try with Alkaloid, and what I’d like to act on.

Hiiro: Did anything come to mind?

Mayoi: No…

Nothing comes to mind, so I’ve started to wonder what we can do to get something we can call a good result, and also remove the obstacles in the way of our objectives.

To put it simply, to win some sort of award. But in reality, to become so popular that you’ll have a schedule where you’re counting down by the minute—

It’s the height of being an idol…It’s not like we ourselves covet the status of being popular figures.

Aira: We're the younger generation. Yeah, we’re not really hungry for power. 

I mean, have you ever thought of aiming to become one of ES' Big 3?! Honestly, I haven’t.

Tatsumi: The Big 3….Hm. If popularity ranking is visualized on the foundation of a clear, numerical value of L$, it may be an appropriate indicator of authority within ES.

Aira: But numbers aren’t everything, right?

Even for a term like “top idol”, everyone has different criteria for what makes someone at the top.

In my case, I call someone a top idol when I can point at them and call them great but…

How well they sell, their ability, popularity...Financial power? It's not like the top idols in every sphere are all the same

Mayoi: Yeah. Even after this much deliberate thinking, there’s no way that we can just come up with something so suddenly, after all…

Tatsumi: The realization seems to be setting in that viewing things from an ordinary perspective will not do—For both close goals, and far goals

Hiiro: ….That’s right but. It’s just one thing, but something came to mind for me.

Aira: Huh, when?

Hiiro: Less of being something that I want to do, it’s more of something that came to mind.

It’d be a job for everyone in Alkaloid, and not only can we act on it at once, but I have a feeling that we would rake in some good experience.

I was told it was a happening on a large scale…We should be able to get good results from it.

Aira: W-Wait a sec. Don’t leave me hanging, hurry up and tell us.

Hiiro: —Yes.

Let’s do a live. With Alkaloid, let’s participate in Underland.

In Japanese, what Aira says here is a 5-7-5 syllable pattern, which is a haiku

A senryu haiku is a type of haiku that is usually a dark comedy about human fallacies

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[izzy-b-hands]

I'm gonna ask a weird question but:

Is there anything you guys (aka y'all following me lol) want to see more of from me, in terms of a potential item(s)/service(s) to purchase?

Better explanation of what the fuck I'm waxing on abt below the cut. TW for talk of money/work/the overall state of things economically for me and my plans/goals/potential options to keep making things better.

I need to bring in more money. I'm getting more stable, trying to save on top of the generous donations I've been given while using them as needed for things we absolutely need (food, basic supplies/necessities.) But we're still so tight, and I know nearly everyone is dealing with some form of this right now bc Everything Sucks Economically on like. a level of how it felt in 2008 (extra terrifying feeling now) but. It's killing me. I can't take feeling like a burden like this. I have to do more.

I have been applying elsewhere, for FT, PT, and contract jobs that pay better, though I am hoping more for the FT positions of course. Thus far, I have not had any bites back that amounted to anything, but intend to continue my efforts regardless (because what else can I do there anyway?)

I've been trying to figure out other options, w/things I know I can do somewhat well to very well. All would be cheap, but hopefully would add up over time until I can get a FT job again and while I grind away at the current PT job (which I am hoping to add more hours to for the next semester, when they have us make our scheduling choices again and allow us to potentially add at least one more shift to our schedule.)

So, a poll. To gauge interest, and see if y'all have any opinions/would even potentially purchase anything like the below things from me. I'll try and detail each option below, but first, the options:

1. Photo Prints: I've done photography since high school, though I only have my current Pixel phone available for it right now. That said, they would be as cheap as I can get away with, and my Pixel actually doesn't do too badly, plus I would be editing these to make them as good looking as possible. Ideally, I'd have a Pay What You Want option instead, so ppl can just give whatever they think the print is worth since these will be smaller, amateur prints, but I'm not sure if all the platforms that usually handle photo print sales for smaller creators allow that. So, in that case, a range of probably $1-$5 at most for each print. They would be of things out here; I have access to and experience already with taking city and nature themed pictures (it was literally all I did in hs and since then bc of where I've lived.) So general city life/scenery, plus local wildlife like the birds, squirrels, and nature surrounding us in all seasons, plus any extra pictures I can take elsewhere whenever Housemate and I are out and about (aka probably lots of mountain and ocean shots.) My speciality when I had my other camera was micro/detailed photography, and I'd like to explore this with my current setup and see how they turn out and potentially offer those as well.

If it would help to see some current pictures that I am considering as the first set I would put up for sale, please reply on this post letting me know and I can post a couple as examples 🙌

2. Poetry Commissions: I have done these on and off since middle school, usually for friends/family. Nothing wild, but usually shorter, some rhyming, some free verse, poems on varying topics. I've done them for birthdays, holidays like Mother's Day and Father's Day, as well as with obits or for weddings, and even a baby shower, to go on the invites. I haven't posted much of what I've written in recent years, but as with the pictures, I would be happy to post some of the ones I've written before as examples. Poetry is where I have no fear and will work myself to the bone to provide the best work possible; if you can get me just the bare basic details (ex. You want a poem for your brother's bday. Give me his name, a couple of hobbies/likes of his, and two of your favourite memories with him and I'll write you something beautiful, to celebrate him and his place in your life and take the piss out of him too, depending on your relationship with your brother lol), I can get you a poem in a 2-4 day turnaround time for as low as 5¢/word. Electronic only, but you would get a PDF of the poem that you can do whatever you want with afterwards (I would require my name remain credited on any other posting/usage elsewhere, but you wouldn't have to pay me again if you want to reuse it for another brother, to harken back to our example.)

3. Data Entry/Transcription Assistance: This one is a pretty wide range of what I can offer. I have experience working with medical documents (neurology, ophthalmology, and optometry for specific specialities both in data entry and transcription) via two of my last jobs, technical documents from two prior jobs (public library and medical staff training specifically), and historical documents including both handwritten (including print and cursive) and typed documents and charts via my volunteer work with Zooniverse. This is my bread and butter in terms of general job skills, and one I genuinely enjoy. That means that I come into each job, regardless of field or exact task, with excitement and an open mind, ready to prioritise and organise everything to the requested system and/or standard, with the goal to go above and beyond that however possible. Usually I achieve this by completing projects as ahead of deadline as possible, as well as by taking on any additional related tasks as needed (example: you hired me on to type up all of Grandma's lifelong journal entries for archiving and easy reading at an upcoming family reunion, but now you've found that Grandpa has one too. For minimal to no additional cost, I will happily take that on and endeavour to have both sets of data typed up in an easy to send/print word doc and/or PDF well before the reunion deadline.) I am more than willing to take on contract/NDA required work for this option as well, and have done so in the past with a prior job (aka why I'm not allowed to share any of the clinic training docs I made.) Cost might depend some on project size and deadline, but a general estimate would be, to stick with our above example: $5 per 250/pg journal, with a small additional charge of $5 if a rush is requested (aka say the reunion gets moved up to three days from now vs three months or weeks.) I would endeavour to charge no higher than $25 with $5 rush fee if rush requested for bigger projects.

4. Research Assistance: More or less what it says on the tin. Can be for work, home related things, whatever (though if requested for school/in regards to homework, I only go as far as providing resource links because unfortunately, usually doing the research yourself is a part of the learning process. However, if you're struggling to find primary or secondary sources, I am happy to help find those for you so that you can peruse them to see if they'll have the information you're looking for. If they do, great! If they don't, then I would keep looking for more.) While research hasn't been my main task at any of my prior jobs, it has always been a feature in much of the day to day work regardless, and is a skill I have kept up in my volunteer work with Zooniverse on projects which requested it. Looking for sources for anything, from work projects to recipes can be a slog. Let me do it for you. Pricing on this I'm putting at $5. That's it. Pay me $5, and I'll find as much as I can in regards to whatever you have that needs researching. Turnaround might depend on project, but I'm leaning 1-4 days at the very most.

So. There we are! Vote on the poll if you'd like, reply with any opinions/feelings/ideas you have for me about these, and thank you if you read this whole thing ❤️🫂

[missmentelle]

I always am told or recommended that I need to learn to sit with difficult emotions or feelings. What on earth does that mean and how does one go about doing that?

Good question!

Our culture has a habit of trying to push away or smooth over all negative emotions as quickly as possible. We’re uncomfortable with being uncomfortable. When we’re in emotional pain - or when someone we love is in pain - our instinct is usually to just bombard that pain with positivity and distractions so we can stop dealing with it. Most of us aren’t really raised to be comfortable witnessing or experiencing emotional pain, and as soon as we encounter it, we either want to bury it or run away. 

There are two big problems with this. 

The first is that constantly trying to escape from difficult emotions can lead people down some dangerous paths. If I don’t know how to face my difficult emotions and I just want to run away from them, there are a lot of destructive things I can turn to - things like drinking, spending money I don’t have, using drugs, binge-eating or getting into destructive short-term relationships. Even less extreme options can have a huge negative toll on my life; if I try to avoid thinking about painful emotions by blasting the TV or sleeping all day, that’s eventually going to start to really impact my quality of life. 

Secondly, when we never really get comfortable sitting with negative emotions, we never actually learn how to deal with those negative emotions. If I get dumped by someone I really loved, for instance, and spend a full year avoiding that pain by seeking out every distraction I can find, there’s a good chance that at the end of that year, I still won’t really have come to terms with the breakup - it might still be a really painful subject for me, and I might find myself struggling to cope if I don’t have any distractions available when I’m reminded of it. This can be especially damaging for relationships - if I don’t know how to sit with a friend’s pain, then I’m likely to simply drift away from them when they’re going through a hard time to escape from the discomfort of their negative emotions. 

“Sitting with difficult emotions” can look different for different people, but simply put, it means you allow yourself to experience pain without trying to distract from it, minimize it, deny it, or run away from it. You don’t disguise it or downplay it for someone else’s sake. You let yourself say “This is what I’m feeling right now, and it hurts. I am struggling right now, and that’s alright. I don’t need to pretend to be okay.”

Some ways to sit with negative emotions include:

Label the emotion. What is it that you’re feeling? It can be a complicated mix of things, and that’s okay. What do those emotions feel like for you? Can you feel them in your body? 

Allow yourself some quiet reflection time. Think about what you’re going through. When did it start? What circumstances led up to this? Have you felt this way before? 

Express your emotions. Document what you’re feeling and experiencing through art or journaling. Draw, paint, write a poem. Express your emotions in a way that works for you. 

Remember that emotions are temporary. Remind yourself that emotions - even very overwhelming and powerful emotions - don’t last forever. The things you’re experiencing right now might last for a little while, but they will eventually fade and you will experience other emotions again. 

Accept your emotions. This is what you’re experiencing right now, and that’s okay. You are allowed to make space for this emotion. Don’t pressure yourself to control this emotion or diminish it, and don’t put pressure on yourself to “be okay” for the sake of other people. Accept that this is what you’re feeling right now, and try to be okay with that. 

Sitting with negative emotions without trying to banish them can feel very unnatural or counter-intuitive for a lot of people. It’s not what most of us were raised to do. When someone comes to you in pain and you don’t immediately start jumping through hoops to try to cheer them up, it can feel like you’re not trying hard enough and that you’re letting them down somehow. It’s not true. Sometimes the best thing you can do is just sit beside someone as they sit in their difficult emotions. 

Don’t get me wrong - distractions are not always a bad thing, and there are definitely times when you just need a break from what you’re experiencing. Likewise, it’s not good to spend too much time in negative emotions - if you’re struggling to experience anything but negative emotions regardless of what is happening in your life, you should definitely talk to a professional about that. But sometimes in life, bad things happen to us and it’s okay to just feel bad that about for a little bit. We need to let go of this expectation that people perform happiness, even when they’re going though something terrible. Sitting with negative emotions means accepting that negative emotions happen sometimes, and that that’s okay. 

Best of luck to you! MM

[goonification]

yungi smut

[18+] Mingi gets hard before stages and has no idea why. Neither does Yunho but he’s happy to help.

The fast-paced voice of a MC echoed through the hallways over a loudspeaker to introduce the lineup for the night’s show. No one was listening too carefully though to the tinny voice, as the livestream usually only acted as a reminder that, in the same building, the Music Bank stage was soon to be lively with performances for the next 90 minutes. It wasn’t uncommon for the muffled sounds of the host to be overshadowed by the busy chatter of stressed out staff and excited idols, donning various elaborate and colourful outfits. 

It was less than an hour until Ateez were supposed to be rounded up and ushered to the wings of the stage, prepared to give the nth performance of their most recent comeback.

While most idols we’re counting down the minutes to their upcoming stages, Mingi was rushing back to his group’s green room, hoping to god it was empty.

He scuttled through the crowds, politely bowing at passing staff and tucking behind ongoing interviews to not draw attention to himself. A lanky, 6ft man with a hand on his crotch lumbering through the background of someone’s acrostic poem segment would be bound to draw the wrong kind of online attention.

Hand grasping the doorknob of their assigned green room with relief, the sounds of the hallways were snuffed with the thick door shutting behind him. 

He gave the space a quick once-over, falling at ease when he found it seemingly empty. With the room barren of members or staff, Mingi pressed his back to the door as a makeshift lock and shamelessly dropped his pants below his waist.

This wasn’t an uncommon scenario.

There are plenty of different ways that the human body can react to a stressful situation. Some people overthink to the point of a headache. Others have physical reactions, like shaking or sweating. Some people even feel faint or collapse.

However, Song Mingi got boners. Plain and simple. He doesn’t know why it happens. Often, he doesn’t even know when it’ll happen. 

The regularity of stage fright had faded away to a fear of the past. With the exception of the occasional special stage, Mingi typically didn’t get stressed out over every individual performance but, for some godforsaken reason, his body seemed to know what a pre-show countdown sounded like and reacted regardless. 

Nervous or not, popping a semi backstage was a shamefully familiar feeling for Mingi. He was well aware that there had been a couple of fancams where his half-hard cock made far more of an appearance than he wanted and, determined to not repeat history if he could help it, intended to try de-escalating his problem before stepping foot on stage this time.

Mingi looked down at his dick, standing fully upright.

It was mocking him.

Frustrated at his situation, Mingi furrowed his brow, scowling at his penis before feeling grateful that no one saw him do that. Nothing like a healthy dose of random horniness to cloud every crevice of his brain with a layer of fog, stopping him from thinking rationally. 

He collected his composure with a deep breath, using his knees to pinning his pants at his mid-thigh in case someone entered unexpectedly, and got to work.

A large hand wrapped around the proportionately large shaft and began to pump, so quickly in fact that his whole body lurched forward at the sudden relief. It wasn’t long before his knees instinctively spread and baggy pants fell to his ankles. There was no use picking them back up. Not a minute could be wasted. The door behind him could open at any second. With his very noticeable presence missing, someone was bound to be looking for him to reunite him with his members.

Mingi didn’t know how much time he had. A few drops of spit and a dab of precum was all he could gather as lube, forcing him to slow down his pace to avoid discomfort. Mingi whined. He knew this wouldn’t take long at all if he was back in the dorms with his usual creamy lotion or the constant flow of a soapy shower to keep his length slick.

He could practically hear the threat of a ticking clock in his head. The bustling sounds of people on the other side of the door weren’t helping. The MC’s voice echoed again, saying something about a commercial break, probably the first of several. He was desperate to fix his problem fast and would need to try something different.

A shaky second hand joined the first, holding it steady as his hips took on the task instead. The closed tunnel of his fist stopped the air from drying away his precious moisture, allowing for a more comfortable friction than before.

“Ah-” Mingi couldn’t stop the escape of a single low moan as he fucked his hand, balls slapping against his curled fingers and stretched wrist with each thrust.

It felt good, definitely better. But he was still too distracted. While his new technique was undoubtedly more successful than the first, his brain was still going a mile a minute with the looming reminder of the risk he was taking. His hands were shaking, needing to readjust their grip every few seconds. 

Mingi didn’t want to cry; he had just had his makeup done. Yet, still, every shaky slip of his hands was contributing to a growing frustration. 

It was becoming more difficult to keep quiet. Mingi was being assaulted with the buildup of both dull pleasure and throbbing pain and needed some way to express it. Small grunts were turning into breathy moans, low and long, to try to keep the sounds contained in the room.

Suddenly, even through welling tears, his eyes caught sight of a slight movement caught in one of the dressing room mirrors. What Mingi assumed were just piles of jackets on a couch began to shift, before he noticed the pant legs of a stage outfit, matching the one Mingi was currently “wearing”, donned on a long set of legs. A pair of large boots stuck upright off the end of the couch.

“You’re terrible at staying quiet.” Yunho’s familiar voice spoke out from under the pile before he threw a heavy jacket off of his head, exposing his tired face in the reflection of the mirror. He was basically eye-level with Mingi’s cock.

“Ah, what the fuck!” Mingi shouted, trying and failing to pull up his pants. In that moment, he silently cursed the stylists for always putting him in the baggiest outfits. He repeated his expletive of choice. “What the fuck were you doing under there?”

Yunho squinted tightly, shaking his head as his eyesight adjusted to the harsh fluorescent light of the room. “I had a headache and couldn’t find the light switch.”

“Oh.” Mingi stood dumbfounded and beet-red. Yunho was as giant as he was and it wasn’t like he was exactly hidden. He mentally scolded himself for not checking the room better before fully exposing himself, accidentally baring his entire cock and balls to his friend.

“I knew you were horny earlier!” Yunho exclaimed, like it was his own personal victory for guessing correctly. “You were all bouncy and quiet during stage rehearsal. Kinda like before you take your extra long showers. Always before the stages too, huh? Why is that?”

Mingi shrugged. He didn’t know what to say. He especially didn’t know that Yunho was so attentive to his behaviour. It made him think back to every time he busted what he thought was a secret nut but maybe he wasn’t so private after all.

It was a lot of information to take in with his pants around his ankles. He had so many questions. Mingi started with an easy one. “Why didn’t you say anything when I came in here? I would’ve stopped.”

“Honestly, I thought you were here to get me.” Yunho was fixing his hair at the mirror, composing himself while stealing occasional glances of Mingi’s cock in the reflection. “At least, until I heard you all -” He mocked the deep timbre of Mingi’s voice and moaned comically. Painfully to Mingi, even the unflattering imitation made his exposed dick twitch. He hoped to god Yunho was too busy laughing at him to tell.

Noticing the shift in posture, Yunho offered some comfort, not wanting his friend to feel too embarrassed. “I didn’t mind. Really.”

“But why did you scare me like that?” Mingi’s embarrassment shifted to anger. Yunho’s logic wasn’t making any sense and Mingi still didn’t have a plan for how he was going to get his dick down.

Yunho avoided the question. “How long until we go on?”

“Huh?” Without context, the request went right over Mingi’s head.

“Fine, I’ll look for myself.” Yunho raised an eyebrow before checking a nearby phone. “Forty seven minutes until our stage? That’s tons of time.” 

The tension on Mingi’s face unwravled with a small ounce of relief. The events of what felt like hours of pure frustration likely took place over a mere thirty seconds. He just needed to be reminded.

Still, the reality was that Mingi was rock hard and not as alone as he thought. As one problem disappeared, another became even more prominent. Yunho made his way towards Mingi and the door, hopefully to leave the room, and pretend he saw nothing. 

Even in that best case scenario, Mingi wasn’t sure if he could ever recover from the mortification of what just happened.

Wanting to drop the hint and give Yunho better access to the door, Mingi shifted to the side, movement restricted from the pants still pooled around his legs and too ashamed to pick them up.

However, Yunho didn’t turn towards the door. He instead turned his attention towards Mingi, who had backed himself into a corner. They were uncomfortably close considering the fact that Mingi’s lower half was fully nude.

Yunho smiled stupidly as though the confusion on Mingi’s face was unwarranted. “What? You were struggling to get off, right?”

“Yes...” Mingi admitted, still confused over what exactly his friend was doing. “It was that obvious?”

“Believe me, I know what it sounds like when you’re getting off. What I just heard sounded like a struggle to me.” Yunho never broke eye contact with Mingi. There was a glint of joy in his eyes as he explained his thought process, while never actually revealing his intentions.

Everything he said only raised even more questions. So many that Mingi didn’t have the brain capacity to sort through. Right now, he was more curious why Yunho had him cornered in their dressing room. 

“Mingi,” Yunho uttered his name as though he was scolding him with endearment. Telling him off for being so apparently stupid even thought Mingi thought his confusion was very much justified. “Do you want me to help you?”

Yunho wanted to jerk him off? Mingi thought he had heard wrong.

On first thought, it would fix both problems at once and still leave time to spare, even if the idea of his friend touching his dick would leave Mingi with a whole new slew of questions to plague him until they got back to their dorms. That is, if Yunho would even want to talk about it.

Mingi was getting ahead of himself. He needed to answer the question first.

He kept thinking, pushing through his stress and arousal to conduct a clear thought. Yunho was handsome. He was always clean and smelled good, and liked holding hands with Mingi. Though his qualifications were sparse, Mingi was almost surprised at just how unopposed he was to the idea of Yunho helping him cum. After all, that’s all it would be, right? A friend helping out a friend.

“C’mon, you’ll feel so much better afterwards. I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Yunho pouted as he got closer to Mingi’s face. He was being sweet. Buttering the other boy up without knowing that it wouldn’t even take any convincing to get him to agree.

If only Mingi could answer the damn question. All he could muster up was the confidence for a moment of warm eye contact and a gentle nod.

It was signal enough for Yunho, who leaned in for a hesitant kiss. Mingi’s puffy lips were already parted and set to lock with his own. As they brushed against each other, Yunho’s tongue peaked out, sliding over Mingi’s bottom lip and making him shudder before dipping inside his gaped mouth. 

The gap between them closed even further when the fabric of Yunho’s pant leg accidentally brushed over Mingi’s hard cock, which was poking out and occupying most of the space between them. Mingi moaned into Yunho’s mouth, a gentle reminder that they had a goal to achieve.

“Mmm. No more,” Yunho sighed with regret. He pulled back as Mingi stupidly chased his lips in a daze. “We need to be quick, remember?” 

“But you don’t need to see your hands to jerk me off.” Mingi pouted comically, trying to convince him to return to their greedy kiss. He didn’t expect to enjoy kissing Yunho that much and was wondering if it could turn into a hobby of theirs.

Yunho simply chuckled, obviously knowing more than Mingi about his plans for his mouth. After a breathy “huh?” Yunho took the cue to drop to the floor.

Mingi froze. He was expecting a steady hand to help jerk him to completion at the most but this was so much more. The sight of Yunho on his knees, locked upright so he could keep his face raised inches from Mingi’s cock was making his head throb in more ways than one.

He watched as Yunho’s eyes darted around, carefully examining every inch of him as fast as possible. If he knew Yunho was going to be that close and personal with his junk, Mingi would have shaved that morning. 

“I knew you were big but, damn.” Yunho’s vision stayed locked on to Mingi’s shaft. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted. He looked just as needy as he felt.

“I mean, you don’t have to go d-” Mingi couldn’t even provide an alternative, let alone finish his sentence before Yunho’s tongue was curling itself around his head, soaking his cock with a sudden warmth. Mingi’s hand flew to the wall, then his thigh and, finally, Yunho's hair, needing to grab a fistful of something to keep him steady.

Yunho tilted his chin, relaxing into Mingi’s touch and exposing the length of his neck towards the ceiling. Still, he stayed connected via his tongue. Mingi gulped loudly at the sight of Yunho’s throat swallowing, which was suddenly looking very empty to him.

The soft stimulation prompted beads of creamy white to escape from Mingi’s cock, directly onto the flat surface of Yunho’s tongue. He moaned at the taste and vibrations surrounded Mingi’s stirring cock head. Embarrassingly and against his will, Mingi pushed forward a bit, cock sliding across Yunho’s tongue and spreading the pre-cum all over the wet muscle.

“Sorry.” Mingi sheepishly apologized as he returned his hips to where they were before but, to his surprise, Yunho bobbed his head. He artificially repeated the motion over and over until the entirety of the cock’s head was trapped inside Yunho’s mouth. His tongue was running indulgent laps as it circled the pulsing tip.

Mingi was a panting mess. He wasn’t sure if he should speak. Should he tell Yunho how it felt? Would that be too much?

It was then that Yunho’s gaze flickered up to make eye contact with Mingi. His eyes were glossy as though he was stuck in that moment. Mingi’s stomach did a flip at the sight. He was waiting for Mingi’s approval.

“It feels good, you know?” Mingi whispered as the fist in Yunho’s hair released to scratch at his scalp. Mingi didn’t exactly sound confident but Yunho could tell the words were genuine considering how the other boy was falling apart above him. The upper half of Yunho’s face lit up with a would-be smile at the praise.

Meanwhile, his mouth stayed open wide, lips surrounding Mingi’s cock with a gentle suction, before pushing forward slowly. Yunho didn’t look away, not even once, as Mingi watched his cock disappear inch by inch inside his friend's mouth.

“Jesus, Yunho...” He hissed as more of his shaft was coated with the slippery friction from Yunho’s spit.

Yunho was only two inches from fully swallowing Mingi’s cock before he came to a halt. As he paused, he shifted with discomfort on his knees. The breathing from his nose became more erratic, puffs of warm air bouncing off of Mingi’s pelvis. It was clear he had reached his limit. Even while he couldn’t get Mingi’s dick all the way down, his determination was admirable. Cute, even. It was especially impressive considering Mingi presumed it was Yunho’s first time doing this. 

Mingi dropped his hand to fall behind Yunho’s ear, rubbing his neck with a long thumb. Not experienced with dominant dirty talk, he merely offered a simple smile to let him know it was okay to retreat.

When Yunho began to pull back, Mingi caught sight of a bulge in his throat deflating as his dick reappeared. The thought of being that deep inside any of Yunho’s holes made him shudder with excitement.

Less than a second of the cold dressing room air had cruelly returned before Mingi’s dick was throbbing with need again. The shaft was a reddened, slobbery mess as Yunho cupped him against his hands before returning his mouth to the leaking tip.

Now, when Yunho bobbed down on the cock, his movements were more confident, knowing his limits and puffing up with pride over his abilities. Once he reached the checkpoint, he twisted two slippery hands over the base to make up the difference, fully covering Mingi’s large cock in one way or another.

This time, when Yunho pulled back, he tried sucking in his cheeks. He was so concentrated on making Mingi feel good, eyebrows furrowed in a way Mingi would’ve thought was adorable had the air not been just knocked out of his lungs by the new sensation of suction inside Yunho’s mouth.

Yunho never let the tip leave his lips before taking the entire shaft deep into his mouth again, producing extra spit only to suck it up again when he pulled back. It was clear he was enjoying himself discovering his newfound talent. 

Not as much as Mingi was enjoying himself.

The feeling was unlike anything Mingi had ever experienced. Yunho’s mouth was like being surrounded by an always-moving, sopping-wet warmth. The boy on his knees took the term ‘sucking’ dick very literally. Wet and sloppy sounds echoed through the tiny room as Yunho slurped at his cock. 

Mingi was fully collapsed against the wall at this point, fighting gravity to keep himself standing. His moans were deep, guttural and spurring Yunho to move even faster, knowing that Mingi must be close. 

He was. Mingi was seconds away from cumming and already panicking over where he was going to finish. As pretty as he would be covered in streaks of white, Yunho was already in his stage clothes and makeup, ruling out that option. Alternatively, it wasn’t like Mingi could just leave a puddle of his release on the green room floor. The clock was ticking and Mingi didn’t have any alternatives left.

Yunho, more intuitive than Mingi was aware of, must’ve sensed his panic. He looked up at Mingi as though he was trying to tell him something, eventually slowing his neck’s momentum to a standstill and grabbed his attention.

As Mingi’s eyes were full of panic, Yunho eased his fears with a small nod of approval, motions mostly restricted by his throat accommodating the deep curve of Mingi’s cock. Yunho’s eyes were glistening with tears but dark with determination. He was ready to let Mingi take over.

Mingi whimpered, clawing at the wall as he realized what Yunho was telling him. 

“In your mouth? Are you sure?”

A gurgle escaped from the back of Yunho’s throat as he pushed his limits even further, allowing the cock to sit the deepest it had been. Despite his gagging, his actions were entirely permissive, knowing he wouldn’t have to endure the pain for long before Mingi would finish.

Dormant hips sprung into motion, sliding back at first and dragging his cock along the inside of Yunho’s mouth. Strings of thick saliva followed the path, dripping from Yunho’s bruised lips. Carelessly, Mingi’s ass hit the wall with a thud with how roughly he fucked backwards, making Yunho wince in preparation for him to return.

When his hips snapped forward, it wasn’t as bad as Yunho expected. Sure, Mingi was rough in his desperation but the slickness of collected spit gave the cock a smooth re-entrance past Yunho’s lips, into his mouth, and down into his raw throat. Yunho couldn’t help but moan as he felt himself loosen up to accommodate, hoping that the sound got concealed beneath the low sounds of Mingi’s own pleasure.

Mingi fucked his willing mouth again and again, inching just a little deeper each time whether he knew it or not.

“Yunho. Feels good.” Mingi grunted out, unable to conceive proper sentences as his vision was flashing white with fast growing pleasure. “So good. Fuck.”

With the added motion of Mingi’s thrusts, those final two inches that he couldn’t quite conquer seemed like a task from forever ago, Yunho’s throat gladly opening itself up to accommodate until Mingi’s cock was buried completely. It wasn’t long until his nose was bumping against a set of abs.

Ready to be emptied, Mingi’s heavy balls smacked against Yunho’s chin with each greedy snap of his hips. It should’ve been humiliating but Yunho found himself arching into the motions. It felt good to have Mingi use him.

Yunho kept his needy gaze up at Mingi, watching the way his mouth fell agape and the muscles in his jaw clenched. His chest was heaving as he got closer and closer to completion. The sight inspired Yunho to work through the increasing soreness to help Mingi succumb to his pleasure.

“Ah!” Mingi yelled loudly and abruptly, followed by several softer stutters. His hips suddenly began to jerk in a rhythmless pattern he couldn’t quite control and then the first hot spurt of cum splashed against the back of Yunho’s throat. The second erupted into the cavern of his mouth as Mingi fell back further, shaking with pleasure.

Yunho hollowed his cheeks, not allowing Mingi to retreat any more and trapping the twitching cock inside his mouth. He sucked deeply and used the rest of his energy to relax the entire length of his throat and milk Mingi’s shaft until he was empty.

Mingi’s head fell back in awe as Yunho’s tongue lapped every last drop of cum that emerged from the hole on his tip. He was going above and beyond at this point, the aftershocks of Mingi’s orgasm already starting to subside.

“You can stop if you want.” Mingi’s voice was shaky, hoping Yunho wouldn’t take him up on the offer. The gentle warmth felt nice against his softening cock, easing him back to reality gradually instead of all at once.

“Mm, I probably should, shouldn’t I?” Yunho croaked out against his dick, giving the tip one final kiss before letting it fall limp against Mingi’s thigh.

They paused for a brief moment to catch their breath. Mingi dropped a hand to Yunho’s shoulder, giving it a soft massage as a thanks. “Are you okay?” 

Yunho tried to answer but, at first, the words got caught on their way out. Clearing his throat, Yunho choked out a laugh at the discovery of how raw his throat was. “It’s a good thing I didn’t plan to sing live tonight.”

Mingi giggled at the half-joke before yanking up his oversized pants, needing both hands to hold the flowy fabric up so they wouldn’t fall again. Kindly, Yunho helped him tuck the now satisfied cock away before zipping up his fly.

“You know you might have less of a problem if you just wore underwear?” Yunho poked roughly at the downsized but still prominent bulge in Mingi’s pants.

“But it’s uncomfy.” Mingi whined, clearly more willing to go the lengths of jerking off before a performance rather than just wear another layer. Tired and needing to conserve his energy, Yunho rolled his eyes and found another spare phone to check the time. He clicked on the homescreen with little care for the fact that one of their fellow member’s phones was currently being contaminated with Mingi’s dick particles.

“Was that really only ten minutes?” Yunho’s eyes widened at the screen and Mingi went red in the cheeks. “Guess I’m pretty good at that, huh?”

“Yeah. You could say that…” Mingi nodded, getting shy again as the realization set in that his best friend’s lips were just around his cock and they were already back to business as usual. That is, if they didn’t count how disheveled they both looked from the aftermath. Mingi ruffled his hair back to look as close as possible to how the stylists left it.

Not having too much time to dwell on what their new experience meant for their friendship, a loud knock on the door made both boys jump out of their skin. The knock was only a warning as the hinges creaked and the door swung wide, trapping Mingi behind it.

Panicked and then relieved, Mingi stumbled against a plastic knob on the wall, the room falling into darkness just in time for someone to enter the doorway.

“Yunho, are you in here?” Hongjoong’s voice carried through the small room until he saw Yunho by the mirror, hopefully only looking like he woke up from the best nap of his life and nothing else. Definitely nothing else…

“Hey, what are you doing in the dark?”  Luckily, he couldn’t see Mingi. His voice continued. “And why are you on my phone?”

Mingi cringed when Hongjoong snatched the phone back and placed it on the counter. He thankfully had no idea where Yunho’s hands had just been and he would probably never find out.

“Just checking the time.” Yunho replied nonchalantly, rubbing at his jaw.

“Yes, we’re on soon!” Hongjoong sounded excited. Enthusiastic about even the task of coraling up his fellow members for their performance. He seemed too distracted to notice Yunho dabbing away at his lips to clean himself off.

He patted Yunho on the back for encouragement before turning to leave out the open door. “Can you find Mingi on your way back too? We don’t know where he is.”

“Sure thing, Hyung!” Yunho did a goofy salute, playing the clueless role with ease as he bid Hongjoong farewell out of the room. The door slammed shut, leaving both Yunho and Mingi in the pitch dark.

“Hey Yunho,” Mingi whispered loudly, as though the darkness would make it harder to hear.

“Hm?” Yunho’s boots squeaked as he turned to face the voice.

“I think I found the light switch.”

.

.

.

[heathsbitch]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS - j.f

Requested: Yes, this is another fic inspired by a poem (you can find my first one here), this fic is inspired by 'White Writing' by Carol Ann Duffy.

Warnings: Just a lot of angst and pining (and poor proof reading, as usual).

Word Count: 990

I could still feel the press of his lips against mine, the weight of his hands against my waist; the moment had slipped from my fingers before it had truly begun. Another minute in our affair gone with the wind, too short for me to savour. It felt as though years had passed, and they had, though in reality we had only spent hours within each other's company - our time restricted, our love was forbidden, dubbed an illicit affair. We clung to the chaste moments we could spend with one another, minutes, hours if we were lucky. Forced into the shadows through no fault of our own, we adapted to be hidden - to fraternise and communicate with one another where no one else would be able to expose us.

I had mentioned something to Jesper in one of our scarce meetings; it had been an offhand comment, not meant to symbolise anything, yet he had held onto it; I had said I liked reading. I found solace in the ink on the page, a place where the demons of the outside world couldn’t reach me. He had berated me at first, saying reading was for children or boring academics, but I had persuaded him to dive between the pages, if only for a chapter, to discover the mystical worlds that lie within. Though he hadn’t fallen as hard as I had, he could see how much they meant to me. He remembered this and used it to forward the budding relationship we held so dear to our hearts.

Often he would leave novels at my doorstep. At first, he didn’t put much thought into them - their covers had caught his eye, drawn him to them, but nothing more. Their narratives ranged from Romances to cook books, though I didn’t mind. It was the thought that mattered, the idea that somewhere Jesper would see something and think of me. After some not-so-gentle suggestions, the Zemeni man put more effort into them, skimming over their blurbs or reading the first page to see if their stories were something that would prick my fancy. He always knew exactly what I wanted, every novel chosen became my new favourite; and, somehow, the love interests would always morph into the man who had gifted me the books.

Time had passed and Jesper’s ideas began to grow, spurred on by my excitement with each new story to add to the sizable collection. He had learnt of flower pressing, presumably from Inej who knew of our relationship, yet vowed to keep it a secret. Every new novel was presented with a pressed flower tucked within it’s pages, and I had learnt Jesper marked his favourite moments with them. Typically they were parts that had either made him giggle, or his cheeks burn. Regardless, she knew they reminded him of her, as the feeling was mutual.

Accompanied with the flowers were scrawls of pencil, small annotations of feelings he felt, his reactions to the narratives sprawled across the pages. They conversed through the notes in the margins as if they were side by side, reunited, crouched in the shadows of the midnight hour together. She could almost feel his presence beside her while she read, almost feel his hand in mine, palm against palm, lifeline, heartline.

But he wasn’t here, there was nothing but void, an empty space that should be filled by him but is bare and barren. All that was longing, a deep pining in my chest, the pain of not being able to see his smile for longer than minutes at a time. I wished we could read together, to revel in the stories in real time, to hear his laugh echo through my bedroom as his eyes cast down the page. I would do anything for more moments alone together, we didn’t have to talk, or do anything for that matter; all I wanted was more time.

I pined for longer moments with one another. I savoured every second, clung onto it as if it were our last. My evenings were spent sat on the window sill of my bedroom in the hopes I would catch Jesper sauntering down the street, the hopes he would catch my eye, tip his hat maybe, and if we were lucky, speak to one another. It had happened before, though after every interaction, I found myself gagging for more.

Often when I saw him, cuts and bruises would scatter his once-smooth skin. His affiliation with the dregs was no secret, but I couldn't help but fear for him. I craved to be the one to hold him after a job, to be the one to tend to his wounds. He’d look down at me, his smile lopsided, perhaps card his fingers through my hair as he praised me for looking after him. Maybe he’d pull a few jokes too, just to see me smile.

Yet we had nothing. No vows written to wed us, no prayers written to bless us, no laws written to guard us, no rules written to guide us, no news written to tell him. Just hope and desire dragging us together like magnets.

I craved to hold his hand, to be one with him. Images would often float into my head, pictures of us walking side by side, bathed in moonlight. His giggles filled my ears, his smile forcing its way into my mind. Perhaps we’d find a lake, in some secluded wood outside of Ketterdam, away from the noise and the chaos. We would bask in the silence of each other’s presence, our lips pressed together as we waded through shallow waters, hearts exposed to one another. These illicit affairs would no longer be a trouble, we’d be allowed to love each other, to be with each other, to bask in each other. But our love was just words on the wind, foam on a wave; white writing, hidden to the naked eye.

You can find my other Jesper fics in my Masterlist.

[sweeethinny]

Brothers

none of this makes sense, I didn’t make a good ending, so .... I’m sorry I wanted to write this, but it wasn't getting any better, so I made these little moments during the years of James and Albus, I hope you like it i'm sorry for not making sense, or for mistakes, I just needed to get it out of my mind

(James and Albus are 2 years apart, so in the fight scene James is 15 and Albus 13 - and it happens in the same year that Lily enters Hogwarts -, and in the final scene, James is 17 and Albus 15)

-----

When James went to Hogwarts, Albus felt alone.

It was strange, because he always had James in the next room, ready to play with him or just piss him off, Albus had a friend at all hours of the day, but then, he went to Hogwarts and he came back talking about friends that he had done it there, and everything incredible that happened there, and Albus was alone and jealous.

He lost James to those stupid friends of his.

When Albus went to Hogwarts, he was angry with James.

At Hogwarts, James was not his older brother, who liked to race with him and loved to talk to him and make jokes. James, in addition to having his own friends, James seemed to be famous, even though he did nothing. People always seemed to sit down and listen to whatever shit he or his friends were talking about, and the worst part is that Albus realized that they loved all that attention.

When Lily entered Hogwarts, Albus wanted to break James' nose.

Albus was seeing a boy. A Ravenclaw boy who didn't want anyone to know about them. But Albus also wanted to keep it a secret, so it was no big deal. However, James was always on the way.

He and Greg agreed to flee to Hogsmeade together, but of course James was close by and saw him running away, and of course he followed. But in the end it was good, because their father was in Hogsmeade and if it weren't for James and the cloak, they would have been caught.

Later, back at Hogwarts, James even had the courage to yell at Albus about him being irresponsible! James! The same boy who got into trouble almost every week.

Albus had been so angry that if it weren't for Mira to intervene to warn that Harry was at school looking for James, Albus would have broken his brother's nose. How could he think he had a right to intervene in what he did? To say what was right and wrong? James liked girls, he had seen his brother kissing some in the halls, he would never have to worry about the things that Albus worried about. He didn't need to be afraid to talk about who he liked with his parents. His father had even talked to James about girls.

James was normal.

When James broke Greg's nose, Albus felt guilty.

James, as always, was out of the castle that night with his friends, he saw when Greg attacked Albus, when he fell like an idiot to the ground, and he went to help him.

James didn't tell anyone about what Greg had called him. He didn't even joke later, when Minerva sent them home for the weekend. James had a bruised eye and cheek, and Albus's jaw was aching like never before, and even when his father yelled at them, James said nothing.

'Who was in Hogsmeade that day?' Harry asked, and for a second Albus thought James was going to tell the truth, but for some reason, he said:

'Me.' And Albus thought he had never seen his brother so embarrassed and looking so sad when his father said he was disappointed in him.

'You lied to me.'

When James defended Albus, he was stupidly moved.

Their father had been injured and had gone to the Hospital, the three were called by their mother, because Harry had asked for them there. He was in terrible shape, half of his face was bandaged, James and Lily cried when they saw their father in that state, Albus however was paralyzed on his mother's side.

James asked Albus to tell their parents that he was gay, sometime soon, saying that no, they would not fight with him or throw him out of the house. Seeing his father like that, looking so fragile and so hurt, Albus wanted to throw up, thinking that he could have died without knowing the truth. James never told him why he had hit Greg.

'I'm gay,' he said, awkwardly, and his parents looked at him as if Albus had said that he had found a diamond mine in his room.

He was afraid, so afraid that he went to James' side, who had come out of his father's embrace. Nobody said anything for a while, and Albus thought it had been a bad idea, he should have been quiet.

'Why are we quiet?' James said, nervous. ‘It isn’t a horrible thing what Albus said, you don't need to be like this.’ He didn’t even seem to be breathing. 'He's still the same Albus, boring and stubborn, as usual, and just because he kisses boys doesn't mean anything. And if you two think this is a big deal, I'm going to disinherit myself, because Daddy was excluded his whole life for being different, and I think the Potter know what it's like to be alone, so I don't see any point in making Albus feel like that.' James put his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. 'I think Al deserves our support, and he has my full support. I punched Greg in the face for talking shit, and I would do it again, even if it’s someone twice my size.’

Albus blinked his tears away when his mother hugged him, and when his father called him in for a hug. They were not angry, ‘We would never be angry about that, regardless of who you kiss or how you see yourself, we still love you very much.’, And Albus felt a lot more relaxed and free when that weight came off his shoulders.

'Please call us if someone says something to you. You have a very beautiful face to be hurt by punches.’ Ginny said, filling him with kisses, tears falling down her face.

When James told him that he was dating, Albus wanted to laugh.

It was so obvious that he and Mira had been dancing around each other for months, and every time he saw them together, full of little secrets and smiles, Albus knew they would end up dating.

He and Lily even bet when James would tell the news, Lily who won.

'James doesn't know how to keep a secret.' She said, laughing. 'And he seemed very nervous when I saw him and Mira together near the Astronomy Tower.'

When James asked Albus to go out with him and his friends, he felt important.

They went to Piper's house, together.

Albus felt much older that night, along with James' friends, listening to them talking about girls and boys, and playing video games with them. Michael always asked Albus' opinion if he was quiet for a long time.

‘Any boy on your radar, mini Potter?’ Piper asked, handing him the packet of snacks. 'Pretend your boring brother is not here, and tell us about the Slytherins. Hot or not?’

But when they smoked together, Albus felt that they had reached a new level of friendship between siblings.

Usually Scorpion didn't like being around James on vacation, and Albus knew that he hadn't fully overcome his crush on Mira, and it seemed that James knew it too, because he never talked about girls as much as he talked to Scorpion around.

'It's to irritate you,' he said for the thousandth time. 'He never talks about it, but he knows it will piss you off, so he does.'

James was lying on the floor in the living room, smoking a joint and laughing at something Michael had said, something that involved girls. Scorpion grimaced, and Albus thought his friend really didn't understand what it was like to have an older brother.

‘Sloan, you need to learn to talk to girls, or you’ll be forever comparing their hair to that poisonous flower,’ James said, his voice slightly curled from the marijuana.

'I need to learn? Don't be an asshole, Potter, if it weren't for Hazel you would never have started dating,' Piper snapped, taking the cigarette from James' hand and swallowing, green eyes, which were naturally clear, now dark. ‘And Blanca liked my poem.’

'I would never have agreed to go out with you.' Michael was sitting in the armchair, his feet dangling from the arms of the chair while he was leaning on the other arm, devouring the rest of the ice cream that was in the jar.

'Of course you would, you already kissed me, why wouldn't you accept it?' Piper asked, pushing the cigarette to Albus. ‘Do you want to try, mini Potter?’

‘Albus doesn’t smoke,’ James said, staring at his brother with the eagle eyes very much like the ones his mother gave them when they fought.

'Stop it, James. Albus you can smoke, if you want.' Michael smiled at him, blinking. 'If you don't want to, mini Malfoy can try.' Scorpius looked at Albus, seeming to be talking to him mentally.

'I never smoked,' Scorpius said, looking at the other boys in the room, but Piper didn't seem to mind because he kept the cigarette stretched out for both of them.

‘Take it or leave it, if you don’t want it, I won’t offer it again.’

'You two don't have to do this,' James said, now sitting on the floor.

'But what if I want to?' Scorpius asked, looking more cheeky than usual, and Albus almost laughed at the grimace that James made.

'Then smoke. But I am only responsible for my brother.'James raised his hands, facing the two who were sitting on the other side of the sofa. ‘If you fall, I won’t get you up.’ He would, Albus knew that, but James would never admit it.

'Okay.' Scorpius shrugged, taking the cigarette out of Piper's hand and putting it in his mouth, all attention turned to him. ‘Al?’ He looked at Albus, the joint in his hand, the smoke coming out of his lips as his pupils seemed to dilate a little.

'Will you lift me if I fall?' Albus asked, just to annoy James, taking the cigarette between his fingers. His brother laughed, lying on the floor again.

'I always get you up, Al.'

[thedeathdeelers]

anyway so i finally finished another Juke drabble (at 12:45am on a Tuesday when I have to be up for work in 5 hours lols) based on the word prompt “Dancing” sent in by @nervousmiracletrash

the word mostly just inspired the idea for this fic - but ya. still counts :) enjoy!

(also this fic refers to a movie about a friendly ghost from 1995, so i hope it still makes sense to you even if you haven’t seen it)

Now also up on my AO3

————

childhood crushes

“So you’re sure it’s in one of these?”

Julie’s eyes remained focused on the notebook balanced on her knee, skimming through the never ending lines of poems and lyrics covering every page as she answered Luke.

“Yes! I swear, I remember working on something similar with my mom a few years before she- A few years ago. If we can find it, we won’t have to start from scratch.”

Feeling a little stiff, Julie leaned back, her eyes never leaving the pages, as she rested against the foot of her bed, stretching her legs out in front of her. They had been sitting on her bedroom floor all morning, surrounded by piles of scattered old notebooks of varying colours.

“I know, but we’ve been up here for ages and we haven’t even taken any breaks yet.” She could almost hear Luke’s pout as he continued, sitting cross legged and leaning against her closet door. “I’m nearly done with my stack. Maybe we should just consider focusing on one of our other songs for now? Come back to this one later?”

Julie shook her head as she looked up, her eyes needing a second to readjust.

“I’m telling you Luke, we’ll find it. I won’t be able to work on anything else unless I get this melody out of my head. I know I can find the lyrics. They’re definitely here. Plus we’ve pretty much gone through the majority of my notebooks - there’s barely a few left. We’ll be done before it’s time to head down for band rehearsal, chill.”

Without waiting for a reply, Julie lowered her gaze back down, quickly finding her spot on the page she was in and resuming her search. Luke shook his head at the stubborn girl sitting across from him, a small smile touching his lips. He knew there was no point in arguing with a Julie that had already set her mind to something. Adjusting his sitting position to avoid cramping (who knew ghosts still had to deal with pins and needles, eh?), he dived back into the book in his lap.

It stayed quiet for a while after that, only sounds of paper crinkling under fingers, and soft whispers of words being spoken disturbing the peace.

That is, until disaster struck.

“Uh, Jules, why does this notebook have “Julie hearts Casper” written all over it?”

Julie was so focused on the poem she was reading, that Luke’s words took a few good seconds to fully sink in. But when they did, her head snapped up while her heart sank, the blood draining from her face. It would have been funny if she wasn’t the one panicking right now. Her eyes, now as wide as saucers, zeroed in on the offending journal, balanced on Luke’s left knee. She had completely forgotten about that.

“It’s nothing! Nothing just a- a- a pet’s name! Yes! We had a dog named uh Casper and I really loved him.”

She scrambled up, the notebook she had been so focused on only a few moments ago hitting the floor with a soft thud. She quickly reached Luke’s side, swiping the journal off his knee and out of his reach.

“I thought you guys never had any pets? What with your dad’s allergies?”

Julie froze on her way back to her spot by her bed, having completely forgotten that her dad, who she’s literally known her whole life, was allergic to dogs. Trust Luke to remember that tiny, throwaway detail, but completely “forget” that her dream box was out of bounds.

She slowly resumed her half hop trek to her spot, avoiding the minefield of papers and journals, making sure Luke couldn’t see her face for as long as possible. Her mind, on the other hand, was busy hastily trying to come up with a plausible excuse.

“Yeah, we uh- we had Casper for a week before we found out Dad was allergic. Had to give him away after that.” Julie held the journal tight against her chest as she turned back around to face Luke now that she was at a safe distance.

Luke’s eyebrows lifted, disappearing under his beanie. The disbelief on his face was palpable. He could always see straight through her.

“So you’re telling me that your dad didn’t know he was allergic to dogs until he was in his thirties?”

“He was still in his late twenties, thank you very much!”

“Jules, you know that’s not my point.”

“The point is we had a dog, I loved him very much and then he was gone. It was a sad time, can we just move on?”

He was still looking at her sceptically, but nodded his head regardless, diverting his attention to the dwindling pile of notebooks yet to be explored, spread out on the floor next to him.

Julie was just glad Luke hadn’t noticed the little ghost doodles decorating the spine of the notebook. She plopped back onto the floor, sneakily pushing the accursed nightmare under her bed.

It was only half an hour later however, just as her heart had finally reached a normal tempo, when Luke spoke up again.

“So, Casper huh? You guys really named a dog after a ghost?”

Trying hard not to groan out loud, Julie forced her features to adapt a natural expression, before lifting her face towards her band mate.

“Yes. Mom had just introduced me to the movie, and the name was still fresh in my mind.” She could see that he was still not buying her story, but there was nothing she could do. She was definitely not about to spill the truth to him.

Luke scratched his head, his beanie shifting with the movement.

“I see. So the little ghost doodles down the side there, have nothing to do with the actual friendly ghost? The one from the Casper movie released in the summer of 1995?” He was pointing in the general direction of where she had thought she had managed to carefully dispose of the journal. Apparently not.

Julie could feel her cheeks getting warmer, and curse it all, Luke had definitely noticed. That damn smirk.

“Not to mention the ghost painted on the back pocket of your favourite pair of jeans.”

She threw her head back, bouncing slightly against her mattress as her hands flew up to hide her warm face. Luke chuckled.

“Fine! This is mortifying, but fine! I had a crush on Casper as a kid, okay? Happy?” Her voice came out muffled, her palms pressing hard against the horrified expression taking centre stage.

But not even a few seconds later, did she feel hands wrapping themselves around her wrists and pulling her fingers away from her face. She hadn’t even heard him move. She kept her eyes closed, scrunching her eyelids together as tightly as she could. Maybe if she thought of it hard enough, her carpeted flooring would eventually swallow her up?

“So, you had a thing for ghosts, huh?”

She could hear the barely suppressed glee in his voice, making her eyes pop open in disbelief.

“Ugh! This is why I don’t tell you everything!” Now that her eyes were open, she didn’t know where to look. Maybe over his left shoulder?

A soft chuckle made its way out of his mouth.

“Aw, come on Julie! This is actually pretty cute. Kinda feels like fate, huh?”

“Really?” She deadpanned. Her eyes diverted to his face of their own accord.

“I mean, he’s a ghost from a movie from the 90s, the girl has the hots for him even though he’s clearly dead...I’m getting similar vibes here.”

“He was just a floating orb!”

He tried to cut her off with a sly “As opposed to cute air?” But she continued speaking over him, wanting to defend her old childhood crush.

“It was an emotional connection. A deep connection, exploring different emotions and representations of love, resulting in some pretty iconic lines and moments in the movie.” She sounded a little hysterical, a little ridiculous. But the whole situation she currently found herself in was ridiculous in and of itself, so there really wasn’t much pride left for her to hold onto anymore.

Luke hummed at her reply, his eyes brimming with humour.

“Thought about it a lot, have you?”

“Ugh! You’re impossible. Fine. You might as well know. It was my favourite movie for a long time. I’d watch it whenever I was having a bad day or whatever.” She shrugged, casting her eyes downwards towards her lap where their hands lay; his fingers still locked around her wrists. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Was?”

“Yeah, well...It started hitting too close to home a few years ago so I just.. stopped.”

Understanding dawned on him, as she felt more than saw, the energy leave him in one fell swoop. She chanced another look at his eyes, and saw that the humour previously taken up residence had now shifted to something softer.

“Julie I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that, I-“

“No, no Luke really. It’s fine. I’m okay now. I haven’t felt the need to watch any comfort movies or shows lately anyway. Maybe I’ll even revisit it sometime soon, who knows. See it with a fresh set of eyes.” She gave him a small smile as she tilted her head to the side. “Honestly, don’t worry about it.” After a beat of silence, Julie grasped at the chance to steer the conversation away from anymore embarrassing questions.

“Do you think we could stop looking through these for now? I’m getting hungry, and it’s nearly time for practice so...” She gestured towards the mess on her floor.

“Yeah, of course.” Luke looked at her for another second, checking that she really was okay, before letting go of her wrists and jumping up. He then extended his hand down to her, waiting to pull her up with him.

As she got up, she couldn’t help but appreciate how sensitive Luke could be when it came to her feelings. She reached up on her tiptoes, and sneaked a quick peck on his cheek, before pulling him along with her, leaving the mess of notebooks (and hopefully that whole topic of conversation) behind them.

A few days had passed, and Luke hadn’t brought up the movie again. She had assumed he had forgotten, or at least accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to get much more out of her concerning that topic. Or maybe he even felt bad. But then a week later, while Julie was sat in the studio on her own (a rare occurrence), she was proven wrong.

She was sat on one of the armchairs, scribbling away furiously in their songbook, inspiration having finally struck. She was so focused, her hands gliding through the page as she hurried to get every word down, that she barely glanced at Luke when he popped into existence to her right.

She didn’t even notice when he moved to stand in front of her, knees nearly knocking into hers.

“Okay! So I finally figured out the second vers-“ Julie looked up, stopping mid-sentence as she finally took in the sight of the boy standing in front of her.

“Can I have this dance?”

“Luke? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Humour me, Julie. Dance with me?”

The fact that there was no music currently playing was on the tip of her tongue, but Julie held back. She takes a few seconds to reply though, too busy drinking in the sight in front of her. He had his hand outstretched towards her, dressed in black pants and a white dress-shirt. She was hyper aware of the fact that he was dressed in the near exact way she had imagined him during her imaginary Perfect Harmony routine. The only difference was his hair - but she had to concede to the fact that he looked better this way. It was 100% Luke, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Putting her notebook with the pencil tucked inside on the coffee table to her right, she reaches over towards Luke, taking his proffered hand.

He pulls her up, just like he did in her bedroom the other day, and guides her to the centre of the studio. They stand there, staring at each other for a few seconds before a song starts playing on the old garage stereo - the same one that had brought them, him , to her in the first place.

every now and then,

we find a special friend,

who never lets us down

who understands it all

reaches out each time we fall

you’re the best friend that i’ve found

I know you can’t stay,

a part of you will never ever go away,

your heart will stay

Luke reaches over to grab her other hand, lifting both up to his shoulders. Once settled, he lets go and finds her waist, pulling her in a little closer. Following his lead, Julie wraps her arms around his neck, her eyes focused solely on his. She listens to the song that is playing, gently swaying from side to side with the boy in her arms.

She cocks her head to the side as she tries to figure out why the melody and words sounded so familiar to her.

“This song sounds so familiar? Like I’ve heard it so many times but I just can’t place...” As her sentence dies on her lips, a small gasp is heard escaping her. Julie’s eyes widen as memories of her younger self listening to this song and swaying along in her mother’s arms flood her mind.

cAll the while, Luke’s eyes are intent on hers, reading her reactions. His hands resting on her hips, slide past her hips towards her lower back, his arms fully wrapping themselves around her, pulling her closer to his chest.

“You didn’t!” Her eyes still wide, still unbelieving.

“I figured of all the things I could actually accomplish as a ghost, any childhood dreams you might have had - this might actually be it.” He shrugged, his shoulders moving under her hands. His grin turned boyish. “Plus I didn’t like the idea of another ghost having a hold on your heart.”

Julie has to try hard to focus on the questions she wanted answered, and not on his sweet confessions.

“But- I assumed you guys never got to watch the movie? It came out around the time you were too focused on the band and the gigs, and then...” She let the rest of her sentence trail off, never too comfortable mentioning their early demise.

“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” She felt his shoulders shift up and down again. He shook his head at her as he continued. “I gotta say Jules, you really know how to pick ‘em.” She could see the mirth brimming in his eyes, his lips twitching as he tried to keep his amusement under control.

Julie’s eyes narrowed at him, even as she tried to keep her own smile from forming on her lips.

“Girls are all about that star crossed lovers’ life. Add in a dash of supernatural? Absolute dream.” She moved her hand, gesturing wildly to convey her (ridiculous, but secretly truthful) point.

Luke chuckled at that, the laughter finally spilling out of him.

“Lucky for me then, eh?”

Julie’s eyes softened, her mouth curling into that special smile she only ever reserved for him. She stood on her tiptoes, her lips a hair’s breadth away from his.

“Who said I wasn’t the lucky one?”

They stayed that way for a few seconds, still moving slowly from side to side as they stared at each other. They were so close they were breathing the same air. And just when Julie was about to close the distance, Luke shifted, tracing his lips across her cheek, her jaw, until they hovered by her ear, warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

And then he whispered to her the four words she had been dreaming of hearing ever since she was a little girl.

“Can I keep you?”

FIN

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

a poem for small things

by Admin 1 & 2

The time has come, the first proper post for this segment we’ve settled on calling a poem for small things, a nod toward BWL and its Korean title. Like we said in our call for submission post, this is supposed to be something like a place full of positivity for vminnies (and perhaps the occasional namjinist) where you (and us) can share whatever we’d like in connection to vmin, both as vmin and as Jimin and Tae the individuals, and have something to raise our mood and also strengthen our vminnie confidence. We’ve gotten several wonderful submissions and quickly realized that for this first post the theme is mostly how I became a vminnie, even if three submissions talk more about vmin moments they enjoy instead.

I think it’s a really interesting theme, especially since everyone’s story is different, and everyone seems to find something else about vmin that captured their attention and hearts so sharing these memories and experiences is a great way to start off this segment. We’ve said it many times before, though I don’t think you can say it enough times, but this bond that Jimin and Tae share is truly special and so one of a kind, it’s wonderful to see how we all relate to and resonate with it in our own way and find something in it that makes us fall in love with their loves, regardless if we see it as platonic or romantic love. Love is love after all. 95z is love.

For the order of these submissions, we’ll simply go in the order in which we’ve received them. Most of them came from anons, which is more than okay. We’ve also opened the possibility of submitting posts for those who would like to submit wordier posts/asks, should we do another edition of this. It all depends on how much you’ll enjoy it and if you’ll come through with more submissions that could be gathered for future posts.

Anyway, enough talking from our side, let’s dive into these submissions below the cut, shall we? Like we said in the original post (and demonstrated in the preview post), we’ll add some of our commentary and observations along the way, too.

From anon: This is going to be long winded story but Vmin is like a Serendipity to me. I've heard of BTS mainly from my hubby when he complains that times sq is packed because of BTS (when they’re in town and doing their rounds of morning shows). I knew they were very popular but it was a great surprise that i discovered them after watching ILand during lockdown. Their songs were great and i started playing their classics like Fire, DNA Fake Love etc. Then they did an appearance in the show...

I love how you heard about BTS because of your husband and Time Square being packed, this is honestly the most original and unique version of how I’ve come across BTS I’ve read over the years. Amazing!

I was drawn to Taehyung's beauty during their appearance in Iland. And my first Vmin ? moment was when Tae commented about being handsome and attractive are 2 things and being attractive weighs more - along those lines... then JM made a comment that its unfair that he's both and Tae was like Im talking about you... I went like ok he thinks JM is attractive- theyre good friends.... then Jimin did the FakeLove choreo and the camera focused on Tae and he had this wide smile...The Iland Tae/Jimin clips made me do a double take but I dismissed it since it was just only a few seconds worth of screen time but still...

I-Land vmin was really something else in both episodes. 

Fun fact: I-Land was the first Korean survival show I’ve ever watched, mostly because it had something to do with BH and since it was streamed online with subs in real time. Unfortunately, my faves—Daniel and Taki—didn’t make it into ENHYPEN, though I’m happy that Taki will be in a future Japanese BH group.

But, going back to vmin, that moment with Jimin dancing FAKE LOVE and Tae looking at him with that boxy smile as though Jimin hung the stars in the sky? I melted, even if it was just one of those brief moments, yet still it’s so cute! And it was all over sns being shared by vminnies and non-vminnies alike. What a great time that was.

Then VMAs Dynamite perf happened- both Vmin looking good. I saw a lot of their promos especially the Jimmy Fallon interviews... and I noticed in hindsight how JF was so careful when referring to Jimin ... Since Tae was my first bias, I searched YT for Tae related content eventually saw in my YT feed Vmin moments. Theres a lot of Vmin content in YT or maybe the T*ek*ok ones didnt really register as extraordinary to me. But defo the Vmin moments were extraordinary to me,,,the BV4 sleeping together, kitchen role play & BV3 JM excited to see Tae and them holding hands and then Tae crying and then Tae's busking with Jimin cheering him on were all amazing to see. Up to this day this specific YT vid stood out to me first 

I actually went to check what video this is, and also looked at the comments where my favorite was this one: The staff member went straight to Jimin to tell him V was crying. That's all you need to know. They’re not wrong with that one, are they? That is pretty telling. BV3 vmin were a work of wonder, truly. Jimin watching Tae sing that Sam Smith song during the dinner in the sky looking all soft and endlessly fond?

Jimin encouraging Tae to busk and gently petting his hair was just such a pure moment and showed how much Jimin appreciates Tae and the talent he has, how in moments when Tae might brush aside wanting to do something, is a little hesitant and unsure, Jimin will stand up for him and give him strength/encouragement, which reminds me of Tae’s vlive in April 2020 and the fact that Jimin had told him that he wants to be his source of strength. Beautiful. And it shows that it wasn’t just pretty yet empty words, but something he truly meant. They both do.

Then i came across vid trans of Friends & cried first time hearing it especially when it got to the part "One day when the cheer dies down, stay hey.." It felt raw and honest to me. Then there's MOT:E concert and that part in Dynamite where they bumped their heads seemed bizaare to me - i was like were they fighting? because JM looked really fierce(or maybe emotional) then i saw the close up. i couldnt remember the exact moment I became a Vminie but it made quarantine easier...

This, I’ve noticed, seems to be a recurring theme among quarantine ARMY and vminnies, the fact that becoming ARMY and vminnies made it easier, and it fits with what we’ve been saying about BTS for years: they will find you when you’ll need them most. And in these trying and uncertain times, it’s certainly proven true once again.

Thank you of much for your submission and sharing your story with us, and I’m glad they could make quarantine a little easier for you.

From anon: I've been following BTS on and off since BST, but only really consider myself a true fan late 2019. I can't recall having a bias at first, but I was captivated by Jimin's everything when I binge-watched all their content. I must admit, my first OTP is T*e/k*ok, where I fell down the route of considering Jimin 'an interfering 3rd party' in their relationship, and it shamed me. Since then I've been cycling through Jimin ships, namely yo*n/m*n, j*n/m*n, m*ni/m*ni, and I even thought that j*/k*ok was real at some point. Strangely, Vmin never struck me as something extraordinary. I don't want to blame anyone, but Vmin caught my eye after I watched official BTS content without filter (presumed bias/judgement) all in their glory. I realized that while other ships may go up-and-down as in one day there's a frenzy and another day quiet af, Vmin has been and is still going constant. That's what makes me love Vmin, and for the first time in my fandom life, I have no qualms about whether they are real or not. Their bond, whatever it is, is already precious and something to be cherished forever. Thank you for providing us vminies a special corner to speak up about our experience 💜

You’re very welcome! I hope you’ll like how this turned out as well. Thank you for sharing your story with us and personally I find it fascinating how, despite Jimin being the one who captivated you most at first, you still fell into the “he’s an interference for my ship” trap that’s quite popular with that particular ship. I’m glad though that that never ruined your love for Jimin. It’s also really interesting for me how you went through different Jimin ships yet it took you the longest time to notice vmin. I feel like, because vmin and vminnies are more “low key” than the other bigger and louder ships, as well as Tae and Jimin simply being quieter in their interactions (not always but you get the point) as compared to, for example, Jimin’s interactions with Hobi, Jungkook, or even Namjoon, it takes people a while to really notice them.

This is my favorite part of what you wrote, and I think it’s a great way to describe vmin in general and what makes them different from other ships in the grand scheme of things: I realized that while other ships may go up-and-down as in one day there's a frenzy and another day quiet af, Vmin has been and is still going constant.

From vminot7: So i fell into BTS hole after watching blood sweat and tears mv casually on youtube. Jimin immediately stole my attention with his unique voice, graceful moves and handsome features even though i didn’t know their names at that time. I watched more MVs and jimin continued to hold my attention but i was also extremely drawn to taehyung's voice and facial expressions. So i started looking for more content such as RUN BTS and other compilations and realized my love for all 7 of them. I also noticed how jimin always had a soft spot for taehyung and was curious about their dynamics. I started looking at more of vmin content and i was really surprised to see how in the early days they were nowhere near as soft with each other as they are now. I think they have a unique bond and i have never come across anything quite similar. Now vmin are both my biases and my bias wrecker is hoseok.

I admire jimin for being a hardworking, passionate perfectionist but also a caring soul who is always ready to offer love and comfort to people in need. I love taehyung for how he looks at the world in his unique ways and how he has a childlike awe for things and how he is so passionate over the things he loves. The thing i love about vmin together is how they are so different yet work so hard on their relationship when it would be easier to just not try that hard.

Ah, another mention of the queen that is Blood, Sweat and Tears. The MV truly is such a masterpiece so I’m not surprised that it caught your attention, and especially Jimin since he was…something else in that MV, or like Tae said, his eyes were temptation (this boy, I swear). Since you mentioned how in the first years they were nowhere near as soft with each other as they are now, I think watching their dynamic and relationship change and evolve over time showcases the one thing I think a lot of people (as well as movies and TV shows) forget or gloss over, despite it being so incredibly important: in order to make a relationship of any kind work, especially in order for it to grow as deep and strong as the one between all members and especially vmin, you need to put in the emotional work to make that happen. You have to make an effort, have to learn to understand the other person and teach them to understand you as well, learn to appreciate and love their little quirks and how to accept others. And it’s so clear that that’s what vmin did, continue to do, and it more than paid off in the long run. I’m glad you highlighted that in general but also as something you love about them.

While the overall bond between the members is a class of its own, I think especially what vmin have achieved is a whole masterclass in relationships and fostering strong ones, in and of itself. There is a lot I think we can learn from them and I’m so happy that people recognize how special they are.

Thank you so much for your submission!

From anon: There’s this small moments in Dear Class of 2020 that i just adore! I’ve watched it at least 20 times this past month

It starts with “Spring Day”- tae and jimin laugh and look at each other and it’s just so sweet!

Also, maybe it’s my delusional mind but after tae’s and jin’s small and adorable moment- it seemed that jimin did the same with junkook right after maybe out of i duuno if jealousy but like “pay attention to me too” kinda way- dont know really and maybe it’s me being extra🤷🏻‍♀️

I agree partially, in that Jimin watched Tae’s and Seokjin’s adorable moment, obviously must’ve thought of it as cute just like we did, and thought he could do the same with JK. I don’t think it had anything to do with jealousy, especially if we work off of the idea that vmin are a thing, but also because it’s a performance and these things primarily serve the purpose of being cute and entertaining use, in other words, it’s fanservice (which isn’t the evil word some portray it as). Also, within that same performance, Tae and Jimin actually sang some of the lyrics toward each other, therefore they, too, had a cute moment they shared with big smiles and everything, just like you mentioned.

But we’ve gotten to see much more of Tae’s friendship with Seokjin in 2020, and especially the second half, so it was really sweet to see them interact during that song. Their friendship and dynamic is really a beautiful one, just like JKs bond with Seokjin, which I feel we’ve also gotten to see more of in recent months. Part of me (and that part can very well be wrong) feels that perhaps once the members caught on to Seokjin feeling the way he said he did/does, they decided to give him an extra dose of love and affection, off camera but also on where we can see it. That isn’t to say that they didn’t show him any of that before, but maybe they increased the intensity a little, a reminder that Seokjin truly is loved, that he deserves all of this, that it’s just his imposter syndrome (or at least what sounds like it) lying to him.

I’m still so touched and moved by the fact that he trusted us enough to share his feelings with us, to gift us Abyss and how it came to be, and that Bang PD was on his side and coaxed him into pouring his feelings into music, even if it would be “bad”, that the fear of it potentially being “bad” shouldn’t hold him back (and Namjoon helping in even if just a tiny bit with the lyrics). It was one of those times where I feel like we were all reminded that regardless of our opinions of BH and their doings, the members are surrounded by kind people who have their best interest in mind. After all what’s good for Bangtan is also good for the company, a win-win for everyone.

…wow, okay, I kind of went off on a tangent, I’m sorry…

Either way , then we have “Mikrokosmos” where we have a sweet moment at their part and towards the end where they switch mic and hear each other

I love this performance overall and especially “spring day”- jin’s and j-hope’s lovely voices and of course tae’s!! This song fits them so well and all the members of course

Well this is my rent , i love your blog and always wait for another post! Also i love the new idea and look forward to it!

Thank you so much for your submission and for bringing up their Dear Class 2020 performance. It was a truly magical one, and after reading this the first time, I did go and watch it again. To this day I’d still very much like to know how and when and why the mic switch between vmin happened, and I kind of hope that we might get a Bangtan B*mb or EPISODE about this eventually and it might shine some light on that question. Overall it was one of my favorite performances on 2020.

From Sky: While I enjoy cute, physical moments with VMIN, I really do value how emotionally attached they are to each other. For example (I don’t know if it fits as vmin moment but), I love how Jimin asked V to take the Promise cover photo, and how he ended up putting V’s name for credits on the cover. (Special Thanks to V, Best Photographer) This really shows a lot. Coz he can easily choose any Bighit photographer to take it. He could have chosen JK because we know how he takes good pics and vids too (and also apparently alot of people say that vmin had a falling out and that Jimin and JK were much more closer, lol). Or he could’ve asked Suga too bec he’s into cameras too. But he didn’t. He chose V, and chose to shout it out to the world how thankful he is for V’s help. RM co-wrote Promise, and maybe had offered more help in this project, but he didn’t put it in the cover. I’m not saying Jimin is ungrateful for not crediting RM in the cover. The difference is that he and RM had a vlive regarding the making of this song, a lot of people already know RM’s participation, he was officially credited as co-writer and Jimin really showed how thankful he is to RM. But no one knows of V’s participation (except for a snippet in that Run ep), so Jimin felt the need to tell it to everyone. I’m sure it’s not only the photos, I think he wanted to acknowledge how V helped him through the process, whether directly or indirectly. Also, remember this is Jimin’s first non-album solo single. By putting V’s name in it, he is sharing this very special song with his soulmate. How endearing it is! V also included Jimin in his first full English song. He used the two bears given by Jimin as Winter Bear’s cover photo and he included the photo Jimin took (sleeping V in the plane) in the MV. Like, seriously, they are trying to consciously imprint each other in their life’s milestones, openly or subtly. I’m crying. 😭

This was lovely, and yes, Jimin could’ve asked whoever to take those pictures, could’ve chosen any other ones, and yet he wanted Tae to be the one to take them, wanted those specific ones as covers. It’s very sweet and creates this subtle connection between Jimin, the song, and Tae. Sure, it isn’t the first time a picture Tae took is the cover for a SoundCloud song (the picture of JK on the 2U cover was also taken by Tae if I remember correctly), but it’s the fact that Promise is Jimin’s first non-BTS song, his first solo release, that makes it that much more special. Even more so when you think about how meaningful that song is to Jimin, and by having Tae as cover picture photographer, he’s in a way forever attached memory wise to that song as well, right?

The same also goes with Winter Bear and the two ceramic bears. Remember how excited Tae looked when I kinda spoiled that gift being a thing happening in an upcoming RUN episode during Jimin’s vlive during the summer 2019? Adorable. It’s also curious how though the title is singular—winter bear not winter bears—there’s two ceramic bears. One for Tae, one for Jimin? Maybe, or maybe I’m reading too much into it. Either way, it’s really cute, and it was a very thoughtful gift, even more when we think about just how much Jimin loves that song.

From anon: Love this idea it's super cute!! 1st thing that came to my mind is a rather simple moment, jimin bopping taehyung's nose and making a lil game out of it

Taehyung asking for more and that dazed smile 🥺 he had the same expression in that concert when jimin placed his face just above him, tae's smile afterward... it was so pure u could almost read "love" in his eyes lol

What a lovely note to end this post at, thank you for that. I don’t know what got into them during that photoshoot for Season’s Greetings 2020 but this was so disarmingly adorable. I remember when that moment appeared all over every sns and everyone just melted, myself included. Their smiles, the cute clothes, Tae’s head on Jimin’s chest, the softness and innocence of it, just all of it. It truly was so pure and like this sweet visualization of ‘love’.

And with that, we’ve reached the end. Did you like this? I had a great time reading your submissions and adding my little comments to them. If you’d like for us to continue this, same rules as last time, send in a submission marked with “VMC” and once we’ll have enough of them gathered, we’ll do this again, if you’re interested in more, that is. Send in whatever positive vmin you have, a thought, a moment, a memory, whatever you’d like.

Thank you once again to everyone who participated! :)

[themelancholyhill]

Thank you for sharing such a personal story regarding your illness. I think almost everyone could relate, regardless if our depression actually gives us physical symptoms. I know that for me, when I am in a depressive state, my entire body feels it. It doesn't feel numb, but it feels like all of my life source has been sucked out of me, and I am unable to do minor day to day tasks. Even without the advice of a healthcare professional, it is always a good idea to step away from something that causes you so much stress. I am saying all this to show solidarity, not to invalidate how you feel. I know we've only been talking like this for a while, but I do care about how you're doing. I hope you take good care of yourself, knowing what your triggers are is half the battle. There are definitely people that are only meant to be in our lives for a little while. I've come to terms with the fact that people come and go, and that as attached as I am with some of them, it doesn't mean the outcome would change. And that what's important is the enjoyment of knowing them when they still know you. I agree with your friend, that not everything in life can be explained. I also believe that not everything has a word complex enough to explain it. Just because you can't explain it doesn't disprove how you feel, or the fact that something happened, and in your case, a deep connection. I think I am a lot like you with friendships, us water signs feel things very intensely, and not everyone can meet us at our emotional level. I can imagine how you must be feeling right now, and I am aching right alongside you. I carry you in my thoughts, always.

Is your friend Aries too? So is mine. What is with these Aries men? Today, he wanted me to do a drawing for him for his social media account. I told him drawing is not my strong suit and that I'm much better with words and asked if he would like a poem instead. He said that the last time I wrote a poem for him I told him I never wanted to do it again. I explained that last time was a commission and that I don't consider this time to be a commission. He then said, jokingly, that he won't talk to me until I draw him a picture. My gut reaction was that two can play this game, but I am 100% serious. I do not like playing mind games with people, I consider it a waste of my time. Mind games are for people who want to mess around with other people, like how a cat messes with a mouse before it kills it. I do not play around and I do not like to be played. And even though he said it as a joke, and I am reacting to it as a joke too, a part of me is frustrated and annoyed. I replied to him after what he said with a joke and all he sent back was 🤫. I feel like we just patched things up recently, I really don't want to deal with more headaches with him. He knows I am not a good graphic artist, and him withholding friendship in order to gain something for his social media account leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I will actually enjoy this break from him. I don't like playing mind games, because I always win. ✖️

"My life source has been sucked out of me," I chose to open this reply by what you said because I can 100% relate to it. I've been feeling downright terrible these past couple of weeks and it feels like my body is about to collapse at any given moment. I haven't had a relapse in years, but I know that it'll pass as I stay away from what triggers my anxiety and stress. I'm not saying that he's causing me stress, but it's best to just let him go, and he's helping me with this by being this distant—I swear, he never stops to amaze me in a way.

Temporary people are part of life, but it hits hard when you meet wonderful people whom you think they'll stay for the long run, but they'll end up being just temporary. I just have to get used to his absence the same way I got used to having him around. It'll will take time, but part of healing is admitting that you need to move on, right?

As of now, I feel empty due to the feeling that something is missing, but it'll lessen with time. I guess this is what it takes to be a water sign—we feel things too much and too deeply.

Let's open a bracket for a sec. I have a friend, let's call her Ava to make it easier. Ava got dumped by her boyfriend because she told him that she suffers from chronic depression. But what baffles me is the way he went around to dump her. He went to Ava's friend and told her that he's dumping Ava just because he didn't want to hurt her! She's also a water sign btw. All that to say that some guys nowadays are not mature enough to face certain relationship situations—be it romantic or platonic. I sense that this is what happened with my friend, but I'm not sure and I don't wanna jump to conclusions.

Which brings me, he's Taurus and so an earth sign. I don't know much about it, but from what I gathered, based on our interactions, he's rather confusing and complicated. He seems like an introvert because he's shy and sensitive, but he also likes to hang out with his friends. His reactions are unpredictable and they never failed to confuse me.

As for your friend, I see that he's not that mature himself as least when it comes to his approach to certain situations. Distancing yourself is a good idea, and I think that this is what I had to do with my friend. But again, I guess we have to take things with a grain of salt, including people we deal with, while making sure that we're not taking advantage of. Sounds sad, but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️

I can't thank you enough for all the support; it makes me feel less lonely.

[virlath]

Hidden Trespasser mosaics

So I was researching some lore for a theory surrounding the environmental artwork in DAI, and happened to stumble upon this twitter post regarding unused mosaics for Trespasser. 

Coincidentally, I’ve been so deep in statues and elven god symbolism the past few days that I thought I’d chime in with some of my own thoughts.

From left to right in these artworks, I think we’re looking at four different gods involved in Solas’ slave rebellion.

Fen’Harel, Dirthamen/Falon’Din, Andruil, Mythal

===

If this hidden game file is anything to go by, it seems to confirm one theory I’ve had for a while- that Solas had help from some of the evanuris with his slave rebellion.

Because when you think about it, it’s kinda hard to believe he could have started a slave rebellion at all with his high profile and attachment to Mythal, especially when slaves seems to have been a big economy in ancient Elvhenan.

===

The gods in these mosaics

From left to right in the image

(Note: I actually posted some hi-res shots of the masks from DAO yesterday if you’re interested in seeing unedited screenshots, but I’ll break down my guesses here anyway.)  

1. Fen’Harel is obviously the wolf.

2. Dirthamen’s mask is easiest to spot because it matches the shape of his statues in DAO. Note that Dirthamen and Falon’Din have very similar statues and masks.

Falon’Din is the statue with the spear (recognised by Tamlen as “friend of the dead”) while I believe Dirthamen is the statue with four arms (this also strongly implies the envy demon in DAI is his corrupted raven, Deceit)

I believe Falon’Din and Dirthamen are two aspects of the same being, but how that actually works remains to be seen. Some people have suggested Falon’Din walks the fade while Dirthamen walks the physical realm and perhaps that explains their togetherness and separateness. 

Regardless, it does seem like both Falon’Din and Dirthamen were involved in Solas’ uprising due to the fact that both their mosaics are found inside the elven sanctuary before we see Solas’ mural removing vallaslin.

3. Andruil’s mask seems to fit most similarly to the third mosaic.

The overall curved shape mirrors Andruil’s bow in her mosaic, and the dotted indentation at the top totally looks like an arrow shaft. The eye placement in both the mosaic and the mask hints to me that this is very likely Andruil.

The big question- why would Andruil be helping Solas?

Perhaps because Mythal turned her to their side after she “sapped Andruil's strength, and stole her knowledge of how to find the Void.”

Or, perhaps Andruil isn’t as “evil” as people think she is.

Sure, she may have brought on the blight (although even this is conjecture, personally I feel like this could very well could be misdirection) and may have hunted “mortal men and beasts”, but who’s to say these beasts and men didn’t deserve what they got? Who’s to say she wasn’t corrupted by the void before she became the “goddess of sacrifice”?

One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking The Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss.

This implies to me she could have simply been hunting beings that had given her cause to hunt them. Remember, she was the only god that responded to Ghilan’nain’s cries for help, and at this time Ghilan’nain was one of the People, implying she wasn’t totally evil.

Andruil also has strong links to Falon’Din, because she and Falon’Din share the same symbol of the owl. What if Mythal meted out judgement, Falon’Din brought her judgement to them in the form of the owl (thus fulfilling the role of Andruil’s messenger as well as “friend of the dead”), and Andruil hunted them in turn to render Mythal’s judgement?

“Always keep an eye out for the noble owl. You never know: Andruil might have a message for you.”

It is interesting to see that the owl statue is always carrying what looks like a mirror or even dimension to another world (another prison perhaps?), possibly intended as a way to reflect the viewer’s own self and actions back on to them. 

Anyway, to me there are a number of possibilities why Andruil would work with Solas and co. Perhaps she wasn’t as corrupted as they thought. Perhaps Mythal made her forget so much so she agreed to help them. Or perhaps Andruil was the mole in the rebellion - the person who began the events that led to Mythal’s death.

4. I think the last god represents Mythal, due to the fact the shape is similar to the bronze statues found in the crossroads and deep roads.

There are in fact two versions of this statue - the sun, in the crossroads, and the moon in the deep roads. (brightened and contrast boosted for clarity)

The moon statue is strongly implied to represent Mythal, because a note is found near this statue:

These statues are old. Better shape than anything I've seen on the surface. Many of them are for Mythal, though. And Fen'Harel. Not in a spot of honor, but guarding, attending.

Question is, why would the sun also represent Mythal when Elgar’nan is known as the Eldest of the sun? 

Well, not only does the sun statue look very much the yin to the yang of the moon statue in the deep roads, the sun could refer to Mythal being both the sun and moon to the dwarves. 

These statues are notably different to other elven statues we’ve seen- notable for the fact they have a large base of rock, and they are carved in smooth bronze.  As these bronze statues are only found in this particular section of the deep roads where she controlled a lyrium wellspring, perhaps the dwarves carved these as a representation of her.

In the third note you find in the deep roads, a poem reads:

I am empty, filled with nothing(?), Mythal gives you dreams. It fills you, within you(?), Making our leaders proud. My little stones, Never yours the sun. Forever, forever.

It sure seems to me like Mythal was protecting these dwarves from something. Either that, or she was using these dwarves as slaves or minions in her operation and for some reason, they revered her enough to carve their own representations of her.

Morrigan says this of Mythal at the Temple of Mythal:

Let fly your voice to Mythal, deliverer of justice, protector of sun and earth alike.’

Similarly, Solas further says:

She was the mother,  protective and fierce. 

Regardless, I think there’s more evidence indicating Mythal was working with Solas over Elgar’nan. You do need Mythal’s passphrase after all to enter the elven sanctuary safely.

And if you want to take this one step further, check out the crown “Andraste” is wearing in DAO. Look familiar??? Maybe reminscent of the moon statue we see in the deep roads?

I don’t want to say Mythal was Andraste but...there are many signs that are hard to ignore.

===

More theory drabble

I realise a lot of the gods’ motives I’ve come up with above are based on conjecture and tbh, the writing for DA4 could go so many ways simply because of the fact that there are so many wide open threads that could be expanded upon.

These unused mosaics does indicate to me at least that the writers have a plan for how Solas’ rebellion actually functioned however, and that to me is exciting in itself.

One thing we can assume with high certainty is that Solas started the slave rebellion before Mythal’s death, because you need her passphrase to enter his sanctuary. Furthermore, even without these unused mosaics there are in-game mosaics of Dirthamen and Falon’Din in the sanctuary before we see the vallaslin mural.

This strongly implies to me that at the very least, even without this hidden game file, that Dirthamen, Falon’Din and Mythal aided and abetted Solas’ slave rebellion.

Further adding to this theory are the the rather compelling links to Dirthamen throughout DAI. For example, the gilded Fen’Harel statues in Dirthamen’s temple’s inner sanctum, Dirthamen’s bleeding statue in the Fade, Dirthamen, Falon’Din, Mythal and Fen’Harel imagery in the Knight’s Tomb, as well as Dirthamen’s statue at Calenhad’s foothold (where it’s implied he had a thing with Ghilan’nain). Not to mention- dual raven standards found underneath Fen’Harel’s sanctuary, as well as archer statues next to the eluvian as you exit (who I believe represent Dirthamen & Falon’Din).

Something clearly happened that led to Mythal’s death, and I’m leaning towards the fact that there was a leak somewhere within Solas’ trusted circle. Dirthamen seems to have been betrayed by someone close to him before the veil was created, because his statue in the fade is stabbed in the back and his eyes are weeping waterfalls of blood. 

As Solas says “...an enemy can attack, but only an ally can betray you. Betrayal is always worse.” 

And, when you tell him you trust your friends? He responds “I know that mistake well enough to carve the angles of her face from memory” 

It is assumed he is talking about Mythal’s own betrayal when he says this, but he could also be referring to the person/people who betrayed him and his trust. Personally, I think Falon’Din and Ghilan’nain could be key players in Mythal’s death at this point. We don’t know enough about the other gods to also make assumptions on their motives unfortunately. 

All in all, it seems to me like every one of the false gods were out to get one another, and Solas never even saw Mythal’s death coming because he was too arrogant/preoccupied with his rebellion.

If Solas really was Mythal’s oldest friend and guardian, his pride would have been absolutely crushed when she was betrayed and killed. The veil was likely a knee-jerk reaction due to his pride and “hot-headedness” more than anything- if he could be outplayed and have his own power and role as “guardian” outright questioned, then of course he would retaliate and raise the stakes even higher. It’s his MO- he has a means to an ends “you didn’t invent war” mentality, disregarding the collateral damage as long as he comes out on top.

This does make me wonder what intentions he has for the false gods once they’re freed though. Obviously Mythal wants her vengeance. But what of Solas? These false gods were his kin after all and the only ones who can truly relate to him on a level no mortal can understand. After all these years of stewing and realising his knee-jerk reaction cost him the entire elven empire, it makes sense he would want to restore what he effectively destroyed when his pride was hurt. 

To me it does seem like he truly hates the evanuris...but could he still be in leagues with some of them? Something I may not put past him, considering I don’t think he worked alone during his rebellion. 

[rpbetter]

Hey, can I get some advice on improving my descriptions / becoming more literate? I feel like I'm really dull when it comes to my writing and would like some advice! Thank you!

You absolutely can, thank you for asking! I apologize it took me a bit to get to this, tumblr didn’t show me notifications and I’ve been rather busy. Hopefully, I can offer some good advice!

Please, keep in mind that, as always, it is just my advice. If these things do not work out for you, don’t feel bad about it! You just need to find what does work for you. And, if you have anything that jumps out at you that you wish me to elaborate more on, or even that simply occurs to you more specifically to ask as you read, please, do ask! I am always happy to have those questions, of course.

Being more literate in itself can help. It can also be a hindrance, however, as we tend to compare ourselves to others negatively. I’d say not to do that, but it’s something you have to unlearn, not something you can simply stop doing. We’re taught a lot of self-criticism by comparison in both the educational system and our society. You’ve got learn to approach material you enjoy as just that, something you enjoy, not a standard you need to uphold. All writers should be unique, they’re all individual people! I think the death of a good many unwritten works hinges on that, honestly; the writer couldn’t live up to their own expectations, born of comparison to their literary heroes.

That being said? Read.

Read new and diverse things, and revisit old favorites. Learn as many words as you can in whatever way works best for you; through reading alone, through word of the day apps, or looking up novel words you run across/looking up words as you write to compare them to synonyms. I know, tumblr has gotten really nasty in recent years about writers who seem to have “regurgitated a thesaurus.” There is always a bad way to do something good, there are always excesses when you’re passionate about something. Don’t replace every third word with an exotic one simply because you think it looks better. Do replace words that are, legitimately, better in how they evoke the setting or mood you are going for. Remember that word flow is important, perhaps especially when it comes to descriptions.

If you do not tend to read much material that is description heavy, I’d suggest doing so. Try to find works that are still descriptive, but fit with the genres you like to both read and write the best to get you started, but don’t stay there exclusively. It doesn’t need to be something like...let’s say, Tolkien. Not to piss anyone off, I’m not anti-Tolkien or anything, but I could never get into his works, regardless of interest or effort, because they’re so description heavy, and in ways that don’t pique or hold my interest much. So, if you find that you are not into description laden works, that isn’t a poor reflection on you! It’s more likely that you simply aren’t into those specific works, you need to find something that is more of interest to you, personally.

If you do tend to read many works that are descriptive at all, take up a few of your favorites and pick some passages within them that you enjoyed the most. Ones that you could feel. When they described an outfit, you not only saw it, you saw the way it moved on the character, knew what it would feel like to touch it. When they described a setting in nature, you had a sensory experience there as well; you could smell the hyper-specific scent of wildflowers on a warm breeze, or the electric chill of a sudden summer storm moving in.

Ask yourself what does this for you so that you can experiment with doing it yourself. Is it the words, the word flow? Is it what the author isn’t saying, leaving the reader to automatically fill in with their own sensory recollections? There are so many ways of being descriptive in writing, as many as there are writers, and as many as there are things to be descriptive about.

So, it’s, again, a bit of a situation of finding what naturally pulls you into those descriptions yourself. While there are always good rules that can apply across the board with writing, it is a creative art. If you’re only following the rules others have set down, you can end up feeling negative about the process, yourself, and the product...or your readers/RP partners feel like the work is lacking or boring. Even when people can’t quite put their finger on something, forced work feels forced, unnatural, or lacking substance.

Diversify what you consume.

I know, I just said that thing about the familiar stories! Once you’re better able to identify what it is that stands out as evocative to you, though, you can better feel that in unfamiliar works. You can get a better idea of how language itself works as a living thing. Read some things out of your usual genres, ask for recommendations from friends or family who read, check out some older works, and even follow some blogs that post a variety of poetry quotes or full poems.

Reading song lyrics and a variety of other spoken-word style things like slam poetry and rap is helpful as well. They’re all doing the same here, evoking imagery and emotion. That is what you are trying to do as well! These formats, additionally, use highly evocative words to describe in a shortened way. They are great for realizing unique ways that familiar words can be paired.

By going outside of your usual bounds, you may encounter words, writing styles, and other descriptive qualities you hadn’t considered before. If you don’t, you still end up with a fuller grasp on writing itself. Everything is a potential learning experience if you are willing to approach it that way! Use it to play around with words and styles, Use this as experimentation, and realize that it is perfectly alright for it not to work out. That’s part of the exercise of finding what works for you; realizing what doesn’t work.

When you have some ideas of what makes you experience the things being described, practice. Pick anything. In fact, incredibly mundane, irrelevant things are perfect for this. If you can describe a sock in good detail, in a way that isn’t either inaccurate or boring, giving it relevance and life, you can describe anything.

Use ask memes and writing prompts, and write them out from your character’s perspective.

Even if you are not writing a first person account, it helps you to use narrative language that the muse might use, or that gives the reader a intuitive feeling for the muse. Don’t try to fill the whole thing up with descriptions. Sometimes, just simplifying is a good thing, and will help more relevant details stand out.

For example, I will often use things in the environment around my muse to help pair with, further denote, and give the reader a feeling for the muse’s emotions, psychological state, and so on. If that muse is in a hectic state, I’m not going to describe something in the environment that isn’t, like a peaceful meadow. I’m going to describe the seeming chaos of some ants in the grass taking apart their food, the erratic seeds or spores on the wind, or the clatter of an old farm truck on the roadway that breaks up the peace of the surroundings.

It’s a very different effect than describing the entire meadow in high detail, in ways that are perceptible to my muse and not, down to a blade of grass or a rock. It then takes over too much of my reader’s imaginative process and agency without giving them anything of nonnegotiable importance about the scene or the muse. Details that reflect a state of internal distress, like the ants, seeds, or truck, then fall by the wayside of this massive scene-setting I’ve done. And, as unfortunate as it is, if you are writing RP especially, your audience is looking for details that are pertinent and impactful. They’re likely to, intentionally or otherwise, skip several paragraphs of descriptions no matter how beautiful they are.

Since you just said “descriptions” and “writing” {nothing wrong with that, I just want to be sure I’m covering as much as possible that might be of help to you}, I’m not sure if you are meaning external descriptions or more internalized, character-driven ones, and not sure if you are writing only RP, only traditional writing, or a combination thereof.

As I said above, using descriptions that reflect things about the muse is useful and interesting, regardless of how or what you are writing. So, even if you were not meaning internalized descriptions, doing the things I’m about to talk about relating to this will still be helpful!

Internalized descriptions include things like: mood, thoughts, memories, and sensory perception.

To do these things any justice, you have to really know your muse, be able to experience things from their unique perspective and not just your own - or just what you wish the reader to experience through them.

If you didn’t have inspiration for the muse, you wouldn’t be writing them, but inspiration isn’t the same as knowing them as well, maybe better, than yourself. To do that, it is a process of learning and experimentation...and practice.

Those memes I mentioned above? Those are useful here, too! It doesn’t matter if it isn’t an ask meme you want to reblog, or if no one sent you anything from it; you can find a variety of memes, save them, and ask yourself the questions.

On sentence memes, or “starter memes,” ask yourself what your muse’s internal reaction to having that sentence said to them would be, how it might externalize (or not), and if these things are true, or just your perception/what you would like to have happen. If you’ve developed this muse from scratch or spent time learning them from canon, you should have some pretty good ideas as to how they’ll feel. Expand on that instinctive or learned idea. Does it change if a different muse or character type says this? Say it is an inflammatory sentence, something accusatory, derogatory, or pushy. Do they react the same way if a loved one says it instead of a stranger? How about a person who is obviously intoxicated, or a person who is under the influence of youth, so to speak? Take that, and write out two different scenarios.

On ask, or “headcanon/development memes,” pick a question and answer it yourself. Just answer it in depth. Now, have your muse answer that question. You may notice that the muse didn’t want to answer as clearly, is lying or omitting things, and/or had other thoughts generated by that question. If you didn’t already do it this way, answer the question again as a story in which your muse goes through those thoughts. Describe their emotions using words that carry the same emotional resonance, not all descriptions need to be lengthy if the right words, right word order, are found for optimum impact on the reader. Write out the thoughts they are having, just as messy as they are naturally having them.

Outside of memes, you have yet more options for helpful exercises that get you in touch with your muse and your writing.

Try out photography and inspiration blogs. Pick a some pictures that drew your attention, and write about them descriptively. Write out how the picture makes you feel, what it makes you think about. Practice not just describing how something looks, but how it would feel to be there. Using the same pictures, write as your muse in the same way. Put them in this scene to give their experiences. It helps you get a grasp on putting impressions and experiences down in creative ways that allow others to experience it the same way, and it helps you more easily step into your muse’s mind and experiences.

Seeing things through your muse’s eyes (through the lens of their life experiences, preferences, biases, emotions, and thoughts) is critical in giving authentic descriptions. To do more of this, you can practice in every day life. Even if you cannot write it out, or write it out yet, you can consciously think as your muse. If your muse was watching this TV show or hearing this song, what would they think? Don’t just answer as, “they would/n’t like it.” Answer as to why they would or would not, what it makes them feel and think. You can continue doing this with your muse’s impressions of different environments and people.

You can even simply contemplate an emotion and how your muse feels and expresses it.

Adding on underlying and overarching emotions to the mix as you go along; emotion, and thought, is complex. We very rarely are only angry, sad, or happy. We are very rarely only thinking of a single thing, and even rarer, thinking of it out of nowhere. It’ll help you identify the way your muse experiences emotion and thought, as well as how best to describe these things.

For example, I write a muse that can easily present as simply being quiet and angry. Additionally, as the character develops, his actions and general behavior can seem to not match well with his overall, genuinely kind nature. It’s necessary for me as a writer to identify where the anger comes from, what its components are; it isn’t just anger. It’s built on the things anger so often is; frustration, sadness, and fear. It gives the reader insight and helps delineate the muse’s expression of “anger.” When the anger is coming more from a place of insulation and protection than it is frustration, it presents differently.

I describe the sensation of the most obvious emotion, the anger, but also the underlying states that have led to it being apparent. How it really feels to be a wounded animal in a corner. I describe an experience or two pertaining to the emotional pain and fear, keep it relevant throughout the text in callbacks (what set him off is related to those experiences in some way, and during or after the experience of anger, those other situations are referenced again). Maybe it is an outright flashback, maybe it is less thematically stated. The descriptions I use, again, of his surroundings-not just his expressions, tone of voice, or movements-denotes that he is in this particular state of mind. He might notice similarities in the environment relating to a previous bad experience, since he is in that mindset, or he might be noticing things in a more critical way than he normally would. Things he might see every day are being processed as hateful in some way; garish or otherwise visually displeasing, might be seen as outright harmful, or even menacing. Bold colors, sharp lines, stand out. Things come into high relief and are painted in large swaths of color, the minute details missing suddenly.

Further, you can think of things that make your own similar state of mind so much worse in these situations. Is there a repetitive sound in the background? Is the person he is speaking with seemingly blowing him off in some way? Is he hungry, tired, thirsty, in physical pain? I then write those things throughout as additional, building irritants. 

Using your personal experiences isn’t a bad thing, I really wish tumblr hadn’t gotten into that mindset. Unless you really have written a 100% self-insert character, they shouldn’t experience things exactly as you do, no. However, you have a basis to go off of already when you are describing their inner life; your own.

Maybe you have never been so wracked with grief that you collapsed, but you have been caught up in a significant loss of some sort that you can build upon. If you can better imagine what your muse’s experience is, you can describe it not only better, but also in a way that reads as legitimate. It’s not a description of grief that you could have gotten from anywhere else, doesn’t have cliché lines in it about grief, such as, “though he was drowning in an ocean of loss, he knew he had to be strong for his friends, so, he put on a brave face.” (There are other issues with that, but that’s a whole other post!)

My point is, you have the tools of accurate inner life within you, and you should use them to build that accuracy in your writing. Again, play with the words and structure, make sure you are building the feelings or otherwise being immersive about them. Keep them throughout the thread, do not have a muse magically become the opposite of what you’ve described because it is no longer convenient, and do not forgo little reminders that the muse feels the way they do, no matter what their actions might be saying.

When you describe your muse’s actions that are being influenced by an emotion, good or bad, use words that evoke the emotion while describing those actions.

If the muse is very sad, do not use words that bring to mind vivacity and passion. Don’t use metaphors that bring to mind those same things. Your muse doesn’t slink like a jungle cat to the table when depressed, but they might move in a daze, like a shadow, or a have to put maximum effort into their every step as though heading to their own execution.

I don’t think anyone should describe, let alone to an extreme, every action their muse undertakes, but when you are imparting these things with emotional tone or thought processes, it really shouldn’t be done. It’s exhausting for you to write, and just as exhausting for your reader, who is very likely going, okay, we get it, she’s angry. Like the descriptions of the surroundings, try to keep it to important and telling actions. You needn’t describe your muse’s every eye movement, but if they are so embarrassed they’re having trouble keeping eye contact, or so annoyed they glare, that is a description you want to add.

Writers never seem to forget facial expressions or dramatic body movements, which is reasonable, considering how visual a species humans are, but quite often forgo tone of voice and word pronunciation entirely. These are great ways to denote what your muse is feeling. Consider how your muse speaks most often, whether they work at proper pronunciation and hiding an accent, or if they simply let their most natural speech flow. Then, consider how different emotions might impact that. I’m not talking about the only go-to many muns on tumblr have, the “my muse speaks -first language here- when angry” thing. I’m talking about your muse entering into any emotion strongly enough to drop crisp pronunciation, outright mess up familiar and easy words, stumble, stutter, or pause. Write emotion into your muse’s speech, and don’t keep it to adding things like, “said angrily.”

That’s telling, not showing, and is the death of descriptive writing of any sort.

Doing any of the above in a document is highly recommended. Not only are you less likely to encounter tumblr eating your drafts as you work on them, you have more freedom to open it up later and play around with the structure. Additionally, writing directly on the platform can be distracting in more ways than just the desire to dash scroll! It can make you feel like you need to be doing what you owe instead, need to be responding to messages, posted memes, comments. Taking it off site feels more like your own space and time for experimentation.

I know this was long, and covered many points (though, it could always use more). So, I’m going to kind of rehash some below!

For learning and inspiration:

read things both familiar and not in order to figure out what sort of descriptions speak to you, then practice doing them yourself

read a variety of works, not just books, and not just new books; oftentimes, the lessons in older books will stand out to you even more for using descriptions that are no longer common. Those lessons still hold, like the very act of using common, highly recognizable objects and settings to describe a person, place, or thing. In those cases, see what you can rewrite that would give the same feeling using things that are currently so recognizable

don’t count out things like music and poetry, they flow with emotion and it is imperative that they give emotion and setting in unique ways

use ask/starter memes, pictures, and even common situations occurring around you to experiment with both writing descriptions and getting into your muse’s mindset

think on your own experiences with your environment and emotions

consider how your muse’s perceptions may change based upon thoughts and emotions, and/or how you can describe the setting to reflect and drive home these factors

really get to know your muse by exploring headcanon memes, giving yourself a refresher on their canon (yes, even if you wrote it), and comparing and contrasting your experiences with your muse’s on the same topics

experiment with new words, their use, and their flow

seriously, practice! Outside of writing you intend for anyone else to ever see!

Things to Remember:

you are unique as a person, therefore, you are unique as a writer...and that is a good thing, you just need to find what works for you

describe things that are important in setting the scene in ways that are not just visual; be emotive, and pick things that have bearing on the immediate topic

don’t forget that your muse’s voice and spoken words use can, and should be, impacted by thoughts and feelings

just like you, your muse is unlikely to see the same objects in the same light under any manner of strong emotional influence

also just like you, who is saying something and in what context is extremely important in how your muse reacts internally and how that is presented externally; if your muse feels and reacts the same way no matter the other party, they’re a little cardboard and you’re not being descriptive or thoughtful enough

listen, if you just really need to describe something utterly irrelevant to live another second? That’s fine, but you need to make it relevant. Perhaps, your muse noticed the cracks on that rock because they’re in an altered state - be that by way of a substance, or an emotion

there is a reason why we use clichés, and I am not going to say they should never be used, just that you should try to be more creative with them, and they should always be viable ones that truly match the mood

the same is true of words, we have some words that are just so commonly expressive of sensations and emotions that they come up quite often, but again, try to find something similar if possible, and always make sure it’s still evoking the right thing

I repeat: get in touch with your muse, even if you do not write them from first person. The language you use as a writer to describe them and their world is better if it feels like them

no support for tumblr’s anti-wordiness, but huge support for optimizing word use for maximum impact

to that end, if you’re a RPer, even a fic writer, please know that your desire to write descriptively isn’t going to be appreciated by some people. That’s their fucking loss, and you are better off without them. You will find the audience that will properly appreciate what you’re doing!

I hope some of this helped to give you some starting points you might not have thought of!

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: like ashes and embers Ship: Dooku/Qui-Gon (but lots of disaster lineage feels) for @shatouto Summary: Qui-Gon didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. He saw all the cracks he had been able to trace before his passing, but somehow, in just under a decade, those cracks had grown into canyons larger than entire systems.  Qui-Gon contemplated his relationship with his Master. AN: Read on AO3! I hope you like it!

Qui-Gon didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. He saw all the cracks he had been able to trace before his passing, but somehow, in just under a decade, those cracks had grown into canyons larger than entire systems. They were at war, fighting for goals he could hardly see clearly anymore. Upon his awakening, he had thought he knew what his goal was, what he should do with his second chance.

It wasn’t so clear anymore. All the lines blurred together and the only truth he could trust in was the Force, his steady companion.

“Master Jinn?”

He turned around, away from the window of his ship.

That too had taken some getting used to. Qui-Gon was no stranger to war itself, he had fought plenty of battles and civil wars. His lineage wasn’t exactly known for being subtle or able to hold back when faced with injustice. While those character traits didn’t make their lives any easier, they were still remarkable and he hoped he had passed those qualities on.

“Ahsoka,” he greeted the apprentice standing in front of her. She moved comfortably in her dark armor, as if it were a second skin, not unlike those of the brothers who followed them. While the clones had made their own culture, taken bits of the Mandalorian stories their template had shared, the Jedi tales they had been taught by their Generals, and something that was very distinctly only them, all traditions acknowledge the need for proper dress on the battlefield. They had, apparently, been quite horrified when they had met little Ahsoka for the first time, not wearing any kind of protection at all.

Ahsoka was no little child anymore. She was still a teenager, yes, but with her seventeen years, she almost stood as tall as her Master. She was bound to surpass him anytime in the next year, something Anakin steadily refused to think about while everyone else had their fun reminding him of it.

“Can I help you?” Qui-Gon asked.

Ahsoka sighed and pointed in the direction of the door. “Grandmaster’s calling, something about our attack on the enemy forces.”

Qui-Gon frowned. He was sure that Anakin was supposed to be in charge of the upcoming battle. They had made quite a lot of plans in that regard, Obi-Wan taking the defense while Qui-Gon sat this one out, his fleet only providing back up if necessary, and already rushing to the next system that needed their help.

“Any last-minute changes?” Qui-Gon asked as he fell into step next to Ahsoka. The young woman shook her head and shrugged. “I thought so, but no. Any idea where Skyguy is, by the way? He said he’d practice my Jar’Kai with me again, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Have you checked Obi-Wan’s cabin?” Qui-Gon replied, amusement coloring his words.

Ahsoka only rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not stupid, that’s the first place I check. It’s not like he actually sleeps in his own cabin, which is entirely unfair because it’s bigger than mine.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the perfect picture of a pouty Padawan. “Maybe I’ll just make a ship-wide announcement. Hey, Skyguy, if you’re done doing-“

“If I’m done doing what exactly?”

Ahsoka jerked as Anakin walked out of the next hallway, already dressed sharply for battle. He too was wearing dark armor and beneath that, black robes, the sigil of their army displayed proudly on his shoulders.

“Uh, nothing?” Ahsoka replied hastily. “Doesn’t matter! You promised me training and you didn’t show!”

Accusingly, she pointed her finger at him, a gesture he was sure she had picked up from Anakin as the young man didn’t even hesitate to mirror her, beginning to lecture about duties and more important things than perfecting her already stunning Jar’Kai. Watching the two of them argue was a delight to say the least. They fit well together, and Anakin was a good teacher to her, despite the few years separating them. Taking on students so close to your own age was always difficult and brought challenges of their own. Qui-Gon had been quite shocked to learn that Anakin had been assigned a student due to the war and some other underlying hopes he didn’t dare think even closer upon. The Jedi had already fallen so low, he did not want to think of even more flaws.

Qui-Gon left the two of them to their bickering and headed towards the door where he knew his Master lingered. He tapped in the key for the door and stepped inside, unphased when the door closed and locked behind him. He was already used to his Master’s antics.

Dooku was standing at the very end of the room, looking outside of the windows to observe the vastness of space surrounding them, similar to the way Qui-Gon had just minutes before.

“Your manners haven’t improved in the slightest,” Dooku said in lieu of greeting, not looking away from the dark.

Qui-Gon suppressed a rather childish snort and walked towards his Master instead. For all that Dooku prided himself on his composure, he could act rather unbecoming at times, disregarding formalities when he was surrounded by people he trusted.

“Because I didn’t knock?” Qui-Gon remarked and stepped next to his Master.

Dooku still didn’t turn to look at him, ever focused on the sight in front of him. His Master never lost focus, never showed any weakness that wasn’t calculated down to the briefest of movements. It reminded Qui-Gon a lot of Obi-Wan, his own so very dear Padawan. For all that Obi-Wan and Dooku had never spent any time together while his Padawan was growing up, he had turned out remarkably similar to his grandmaster. Perhaps that was just the nature of their relationships. Both storms in their own right, Qui-Gon was a wildfire, ever-growing hungry and consuming. By necessity, whoever accompanied him had to be more of a hurricane, possess the eye of the storm where there was silence and brutal calculations.

It was probably for the best that Qui-Gon had never taught Anakin. They would have ended disastrously. They were too much alike, too headstrong.

And too willing to fight with their Masters right up until they wanted to do nothing more than sit at their side, telling them every whispered word of the Force.

The distance that had grown between the two of them after Qui-Gon’s Knighting had hurt him in a manner he still couldn’t entirely grasp, but he was sure that he should have thrown a larger fit over the way Dooku had abandoned him then. Perhaps it had been for his own sake, but it had hurt regardless.

“You are deep in thought, Padawan,” Dooku said. Only now did his eyes travel to Qui-Gon, studying him intensely.

“I was only reminiscing about the past,” Qui-Gon admitted. “The days when I was your Padawan.”

“You still are my Padawan, Qui-Gon,” Dooku was quick to insist.

The possessiveness attaching itself to the statement was almost too obvious for his Master. Anger must be boiling beneath his skin. Qui-Gon wondered what had started it, what had set him off.

“Of course, Master,” Qui-Gon replied good-naturedly. “I was just thinking of the times you taught me how to speak correctly.”

Qui-Gon remembered those days well, had spent hours agonizing about the way his Master used to put one hand to his throat and one on his lower back to guide him to the proper posture, the way he should conduct himself while he spoke. For all that Qui-Gon was known as a brilliant duelist, his true strength had always been with words, compelling arguments crafted in the face of adversary, the will of the Force pressed onto another’s mind.

Qui-Gon had never known whether Dooku had chosen him for his aptitude with manipulations of the mind, but he had certainly been proud of Qui-Gon’s skills. He had invested hours into showing Qui-Gon how to be even subtler, how to trace alongside shadows already present within a mind, how to hide his intention with sweet honey dropping like ambrosia from his lips. Qui-Gon had learned how to ensnare the world for his Master and now he was once more following his Master’s lead, and that with pleasure.

The message of the Force was easier to trace at his Master’s side.

“I enjoyed those lessons,” Dooku confessed. “You sing so sweetly.”

It had never been sweet enough to drag his Master into his bed, though. Qui-Gon had certainly tried to seduce his Master with poems as gentle as the rebirth of spring, the heat of a star, the strength of a blade. He hadn’t been foolish enough to attempt anything more than that, to press his will onto his Master.

It had taken time of course, but Qui-Gon had found his way into his Master’s heart, and his bed. The only thing that had held him back had been the old Jedi sentiment, chains that had to be broken.

They were past that now.

“Something is changing,” Dooku said. “I don’t know what. I believe it has something to do with the enemy delegation we’re supposed to be meeting. I’d like for you to join the talk instead of the fighting.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t sense anything, walking through muddy waters, but if Dooku was so sure, he inclined to believe him.

“And where will you be?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Elsewhere.”

It was a cruel way of implying that he was going to meet with Sidious. Qui-Gon didn’t need to tear through his Master’s shields and make himself at home in his mind to know his thoughts. The thought of the other Sith Master awakened Qui-Gon’s usual more subtle bloodlust. Sidious was a hindrance, a dangerous one at that.

“Why haven’t you killed him yet? We don’t need him anymore. We can take the Republic on our own.”

“Don’t be a fool, Qui-Gon. There is much about the dark side we can still learn from Sidious. He has not yet run out of his use.”

That was something Qui-Gon wasn’t convinced of. “I fear that we give him too much time to discover our plot.”

Sidious had certainly not been pleased about Qui-Gon taking his place as his Master’s right hand., though even the Force, light or dark, could tell that it was right. Qui-Gon frankly speaking didn’t see the point of keeping the other Sith Lord around.

“All will be well, Qui-Gon. You mustn’t worry.”

His Master’s eyes flickered golden, the arrogance of the tyrannical king shining through.

“You will forgive me, but I believe that is impossible. I trust the Force, and the Force is ringing with a warning.”

“Must I forgive you?”

Qui-Gon smiled and then reached for his Master’s neck, tilted his head towards him the same way Dooku used to when he guided him during their lessons. He lingered for just a moment, let himself enjoy the warmth beneath his palm.

“You must,” Qui-Gon announced and captured his Master’s lips in a kiss. There was no hurry to it, no possessiveness, just gentle reassurance almost too compassionate for the shadows they had become, burning embers drenched in the darkness.

Qui-Gon was not a young, fumbling Knight anymore, he was well aware that his Master cared for him and wouldn’t abandon him. When he moved to deepen the kiss, taking Dooku away from the stars and close to his heart, his Master didn’t object. If anything, he indulged Qui-Gon, let him pull at the collar of his robes to suck marks onto his skin while he tangled his hands in Qui-Gon’s hair.

“Then I believe I will,” Dooku replied and tugged at Qui-Gon’s hair to pull him away again so he could kiss him again.

[victoria-daydreams]

Something’s Gotta Give

Chapter Three: Tea for Two

AN: Honestly, I should be asleep as I post this chapter, but if I delay this any longer I think I might rip my hair out (not really). If there are any mistakes, I’m sorry, it’s 3am and I’m bleary eyed. Anyways, thank you to everyone who has supported this story! I really didn’t think anyone would enjoy it but myself.

Chapter Four: A Frightful Dinner

Summary: What should’ve been a fun and simple dinner between Livia and Booker takes a dark turn when she discovers a startling secret about him.

Having a cup of tea with each other became a weekly ritual for Booker and I.

And from tea, sometimes we swap over to coffee, where I discovered that Booker makes the best coffee known to man. He always made my cup of coffee sweet, rich, creamy, and added a dash of cinnamon to top it off. It's so perfect, I'll never look at coffee served in cafes the same anymore. Regardless of the beverage we were drinking, Booker and I always made sure to bring food for our little get-togethers. When its my turn to bring the food, I usually buy pastries like eclairs, macrons, pain au chocolat, etc. I couldn't help myself, I've got quite the sweet tooth which Booker commented on clearly amused once he noticed the trend. While Booker opted to bring sandwiches and quiches, which were a lot healthier than my choices.

At first, our little “tea parties”, as I liked to call them always took place in my apartment, but as the weeks passed and Booker grew more and more comfortable with me, he invited me to his apartment for the first time for a cup of coffee. To my surprise, when I entered Booker's apartment, it was not shrouded in darkness like I previously believed, the space was actually well lit.

Unless, he had the lights on and blinds opened for my benefit.

But you know what, I wasn't going to complain about it. The mere fact that Booker felt he could trust me by letting me into his personal space brought me indescribable joy. Each week over tea or coffee, a new subject was discussed. One week it's about books, the next about traveling, the following about daily life, and so on. Truly, it was a very gratifying experience to see how our relationship had blossomed. Not too long ago it felt like I had to pull teeth to get Booker to speak to me or I had to decipher his body language to determine if he was even comfortable speaking to me.

But now, conversations between us flowed naturally.

However, I have noticed that other things have changed between Booker and I. Well, at least for me it has. As of late, I would feel my heart start racing and beat like thunder whenever I would spend time with him. I would find myself studying Booker's features instead of listening to what was coming out his mouth. My eyes would move from down his nose, across his cheeks, around his jaw line, and at his lips. Heat would always flush my face and down to my neck when Booker called my name to snap me out of my daydream.

I couldn't help it, from the jump I said the man was handsome, but I didn't think I would catch feelings for him.

It certainly didn't help that our hands would innocently brush against each other when doing simple tasks, for example, doing the dishes together. Or the way he would lightly place his hand on my mid-back to usher me into his apartment after we've came back from the market. I always felt like I was set aflame every time Booker and I made contact with each other. I began to wonder if Booker had caught onto my growing feelings for him, he hadn't said anything or treated me differently. But, at times I would feel Booker's gaze linger on me when he was supposed to be reading, like the time when I was detangling my hair or when I was drawing in my sketchpad.

There's also the fact that Booker brought me flowers one day when we were having tea. They were roses, yellow roses to be specific. He told me the roses reminded him of me because of their warmth. And don't get me wrong, I damn near gushed over the beautiful, sun-colored bouquet of roses because I hadn't received such a gift in god knows when, but I also had mixed feelings about the flowers. Yellow roses symbolize friendship and I was left wondering one single question.

Did Booker just politely friend zone me?

~~~x~~~

"When I invited you over for dinner I was hoping you would actually help me make it," Booker quipped, looking over his shoulder.

I chuckled a little, "Hmm," I hummed, as popped the last bit of cracker that had fromage fort spread across it. "It seemed like you had everything under control," I replied, a smile on my face.

If someone had told me that by the end of this day I would be having dinner with Booker, I would tell them they were crazy, hell I might even laughed at them. Having a cup of tea with Booker is one thing, but to eat dinner together, it's different, more intimate. When Booker invited me over, I had just finished putting away groceries and was about to make dinner myself, but in stepped Booker. It was quite adorable when he asked to have dinner with him, in my opinion. He was clearly nervous, he stumbled over his words a few times. Whether it was because Booker is still a slightly reserved man, which meant doing this was uncharted territory for him or it was the possibility that he also had feelings for me was unclear.

I hoped for the latter.

"Do I now?" Booker asked, turning around and folding his arms across his chest.

My grin widened, "Undoubtedly," I said, with a laugh.

Feeling a bit of cheese on the corner of my mouth, I took my thumb and wiped it off before placing the speck of cheese onto my lips. Booker's eyes darted down to my lips and I had to force myself to keep a straight face as I felt a slight increase in my heart beat from Booker’s lingering gaze.

"Maybe it was just involuntary," I thought.

I picked up my wine glass, "But since you're begging me so much, I guess I have no choice but to help," I joked, standing up from the kitchen chair and taking a sip of the dry wine.

Booker faced the counter again, "Your kindness knows no bounds Livia," he deadpanned, resuming his work on slicing the mushrooms up.

I walked up to him and placed my hand on the back of shoulder, at first his body tensed before his muscles relaxed.

"What would you like me to do Chef Booker?" I questioned, my lips curving into a smile.

He rolled his eyes at the title, but still a smirk made its way onto his face, "Can you chop the broccoli please?" he asked, motioning to the vegetable to the side of him.

"Gladly," I replied, removing my hand from him and placing my glass down.

I moved over to the sink and turned the faucet on, pumping soap into my hands I placed them underneath the warm water, giving them a good scrub. Drying my hands on a towel placed on the sink, I took my place next to Booker and began chopping the stalk of broccoli.

"In the month and a half that I've known you, I've noticed a difference in you,” I stated, still cutting the broccoli up.

Booker glanced over at me, "Like what?" he asked curiously, dumping the mushrooms into a pan on the stove.

"Well for one, you don't look so haggard," I commented, placing my knife down and picking up the cutting board.

"Haggard?" Booker repeated, breathing out a laugh. "Wow, Livia," he chuckled, taking the board from my hands and tipping the broccoli into in the pan as well.

"Wait, let me finish!" I said, laughing myself now. "There's a glow to your skin. I can sense a newfound joy in you, an emotion that you believed would never return," I continued, and from the corner of my eyes I saw Booker still. "And your eyes," I breathed, shaking my head. "Your eyes always conveyed to me of a man who lives in silent misery. Your eyes would say what your mouth would not," I explained, my voice taking on a softer tone. "But now, I can see a small shine, a little glimmer twinkling in your eyes," I finished, turning my head slightly to look at Booker, who seemed to be stock still.

Silence swept over the small room, apart from the sounds of the vegetables in the pan sizzling and the wind outside softly rustling the colorful leaves on the trees. My heart began hammering in my chest, the elongated silence from Booker made me nervous. God, I hope I didn't say anything that offended him.

I cleared my throat and brushed the bangs of my hair away from eyes, "I don't know, maybe I've been reading too many of those poems you suggested," I guessed, chuckling while shaking my head.

A warm, rough hand covered the top of mine and my head snapped up to look at Booker.

"I guess, it's kind of hard to remain gloomy when you have a neighbor that is the personification of a ray of sunshine, annoyingly persistent as she may be," Booker teased, looking down at me with sincereness in his eyes and a small smile gracing his lips.

I playful bumped his arm with my own, "You love it though," I teased back, sticking my chin out.

"I do," he agreed softly, stroking his thumb back and forth across my hand.

The gesture sent shivers down my spine and goosebumps raised on my arms. Booker's exquisite blue eyes were locked with my rich brown orbs. The proximity between us was making it hard to breathe, all Booker had to do was lean his head down a little further and—let me not get ahead of myself.

"More wine?" I squeaked out, trying to regain my breath subtlety.

Booker smirked, almost as if he knew the effect he had on me, "I would love some," he answered, giving my hand a squeeze before removing it to work on the garlic bulbs.

I turned around, a grin on my face as I held my hand against my chest. I made my way back over to kitchen table, a slight spring in my step, to where a bottle of unopened wine was located. Grabbing the corkscrew, I jammed it into the top of the bottle and began twisting the knob a few times until the familiar and gratifying loud pop of a wine bottle being uncorked echoed throughout the room. It startled me, but at the same time a satisfied smile grew on my face until I heard Booker swear loudly behind me. Immediately, I placed the bottle down and turned around to see little red droplets dripping from Booker's fingers and onto the floor.

"Oh my god Booker!" I exclaimed, rushing to his side.

"It's nothing Livia!" he insisted, cradling his bloody hand as he moved towards the sink.

"Nothing?" I repeated, disbelief clear in my face. I moved in front of him and grabbed his wrist to show him the severity of his wound. "Booker, your palm is split wide open!" I pointed out, my tone turning frantic "We need to go to the hospital!" I stated, releasing his wrist and turning around to grab the towel from the sink.

"Livia-"

"Here!" I began, spinning back around to face Booker. "Use the towel to...." I instructed, but slowly trailed off as my eyes widened at what I was witnessing.

My breath began to quicken, becoming shallow as I watched the skin on Booker's palm draw itself back together. The towel fell limply from my hand and onto the floor with a soft thud. Slowly, I raised my hand and covered my mouth in horror as I watched tendon by tendon mend itself, and at that moment I felt my stomach lurch and a strong wave of nausea hit, forcing me to place a hand on my stomach in order to calm it down. The deep laceration on Booker's palm inexplicably became a mere scratch before the scratch itself simply disappeared.

As if Booker never injured himself in the first place.

"What the hell!" I whispered, my eyes still glued to Booker's his hand. The image of his palm knitting itself back together flashed in my mind, making me slightly gag. I lifted my eyes to Booker's who's face had gone ashen and was contorted with unease. "What the hell was that?" I asked, my voice once again not above a whisper, but the panic laced through the question couldn't be clearer.

"Livia, I can explain," Booker stated slowly, reaching his bloody hand out to me and taking a small step in my direction.

My eyes slightly widened again and I recoiled backwards, my back running into the cupboard. I tightly gripped the counter as I watched Booker's shoulders deflate like a balloon losing air, hurt was evident in his eyes at my reaction to him and a sad frown formed on his face. The silence was deafening in Booker's apartment, the only thing I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears. I slid my body along the cupboard, reaching down to snatch my coat from the chair that was next to it.

"I-I need t-to go," I announced shakily, avoiding Booker's stare.

Hurriedly, I moved to the door and made haste of the lock on the door, nearly yanking the door of its hinges as I left.

"Livia, wait!" Booker called, and I thought I heard movement behind me. "Please!" He pleaded.

My hands fumbled around in my coat pocket for my keys, but finally managing to grab them. I nearly sprinted towards my door even though it was only a short distance away. My hands trembled as I inserted the key into my door and jerked the key hard, twisting the doorknob and pushing my door open. I entered my apartment straight away and as I went to shut the door I paused, glancing at the apartment door across from me. Out of nowhere, the sound of glass shattering across the hall made me jump back, causing the door to slam shut louder than I intended it to. I slid the deadbolt lock into place and did the same with the bottom lock, leaning my forehead against the door, closing my eyes.

I flipped around with my back against the door, slowly I slid down the door and covered my face with my hands.

"What the fuck did I just see unfold in Booker's apartment?"

Chapter Five: Avoidance