#and i was so anxious to pull up my phone and record during the bows but i did get some pics <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[jula483]

still in shock after being 4 rows away from David Tennant for 2 hours on Monday, January 15th 💖

[ptergwen]

the best gifts are unexpected

w/c: 1.6k

summary: you sort of end up with two secret santa’s this year

a/n: this is another random idea i had that i actually really love? plus it’s a christmas one and christmas is this week which is insane wow :/ happy reading y’all

━━━ ☆彡*. ｡

“ok, who wants to go first?” betty asks the group and shakes her present around.

everyone agreed to do secret santa at your mini christmas party. it was ned’s idea, which is why you’re all in a circle on his living room carpet with mystery boxes in front of you. you picked names out of a beanie mj was wearing so it would be fair. all you know is that you’re peter’s secret santa. the rest surprisingly stayed secret.

it’s a surprise because some people in the group are terrible at keeping things to themselves.

flash holds his gift bag up in the air before anyone else can answer. “me!” he quickly pulls the wrapped box out and starts ripping the paper off. betty watches on with a proud smile. she tries to cover her mouth, but you already saw. that crosses one pairing off the list. flash gasps when he sees what it is.

she got him a spider-man pop figure. it’s one of his newest suits, too. peter will definitely be blushing if you look over at him right now.

“this is so sick! he’s gonna go under my pillow.” flash grins and taps the clear spot that shows him. “why, so you can say you slept with spider-man?” mj snorts at her own joke. she’s next to you, so you elbow her side. she winces and shoots you a glare. peter smiles to himself.

“no, so he can keep me safe at night,” flash says a little too seriously. the circle goes quiet for long enough to be awkward. he puts the box behind him with an eye roll. “whatever. who had me?” betty raises her hand, beaming at her success. flash nods. “nice. thanks.” “you’re very welcome,” she says in a sing song voice.

you can feel someone’s eyes on you. you turn your head, and it happens to be peter’s. he shifts his attention back to ned the second you make eye contact. that’s odd. then again, peter is always odd.

next is ned since you’re going in order. he’s excited to open up the cardboard box until he realizes there’s nothing in it. his face scrunches in confusion. he ends up picks something up and squinting at it.

“it’s a... piece of paper?” he eyes everyone suspiciously. “turn it over, buddy,” mj says under her breath. ned hears her and does. grinning, he holds the paper to his heart. “no way! this is, like, all i ever need!” “what is it?” you furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“a subscription to disney plus!” you direct your smile to mj. you’re impressed. she shrugs and pulls a knee up to her chest. “dude, they have so much star wars stuff on there,” peter chimes in. ned gives his best friend a knowing look. “can you sleep over?” “nerds,” mj mumbles to you. “let them have their moment,” you defend.

betty goes after ned. she’s probably the happiest of all of you to open her gift. she texted everyone her wishlist at least three times, so it has to be something good. based on the way she squeals, it is. it’s this new eyeshadow palette from sephora she’s been wanting.

“oh my god, shut up! i love it!” she carefully puts it down and bounces up on her knees. “whoever got me this, i have to give you a hug.” peter is the one who opens up his arms. she scoots over to him on her knees, practically tackling him. he chuckles and hugs her back. “thank you so much, peter!” “of course.”

you try to laugh along with everyone else, but something stops you. it’s a green monster, and not the grinch. you’re jealous. mj just has to pick up on it. she pats your back, a smirk pulling at her lips. “relax, mrs. parker. it’s nothing.” scowling, you scoot away from her. “don’t call me that.”

“your turn, y/n,” betty chirps, sitting back down next to you. you unenthusiastically sit your heavy present in your lap. everyone watches you slowly peel the wrapping paper off, mj fake yawning. “take your time,” flash comments. “guys, come on,” peter says for you.

you perk up when your gift is finally open. you’d always thought it would be cool to have a record player. no one ever got you one before because you “didn’t need it.” apparently, the music sounds the same as it would in your earbuds. you can actually find out if that’s true now.

plus, you have something else to do during break. lots of record shopping.

“wait, seriously?” you pout at the group and set the record player down in front of you. “i’ve wanted one of these for so long. thank you.” “i got you.” ned smiles and reaches over betty to give you a fist bump. mj goes next.

she gets a book that goes inside the criminal mind from flash. he says his search history probably got him on a few watchlists.

peter is last to open his present from you. you’ve been anxious for him to open it since you added it to your cart. anxious in a good way because you’re positive he’ll like it. he’ll hopefully like you also.

he already knows you’re his secret santa since the rest of the group went. mj scoots back so you can see him while he opens it. you catch a wink from her. peter grins at the bow you put on it and sticks it on his shirt for now. you watch his whole face light up as he finishes unwrapping it.

he’s kind of amazing at photography. he takes it as an elective and practices whenever he has time. you’ve even done little photoshoots on his phone for fun. midtown lets him use a camera with pretty good quality and all the important functions. but, peter’s style is more vintage.

that’s why you got him a polaroid camera. some film for it, too.

“woah, y/n.” peter looks from the box to you. “this is so awesome. it’s a lot cooler than anything i have,” he breathes out a laugh, licking his lips. “i think it’s... my favorite present.” “ever?” you laugh. “ever,” he confirms, reaching for your hand. your heart is thumping in your ears. he squeezes your hand in his. it earns an “aw” from ned and betty in unison.

“thank you isn’t even enough. you have no idea,” peter says for only you to hear. you squeeze his hand back with a small smile. “yes it is. take some good pictures for me.” “i will,” he agrees after a few seconds. something is on his mind. mj moves up again before you can ask what it is, which also makes you drop his hand.

“dessert time,” she announces and rubs her hands together. she’s oblivious to the look of disappointment on your face. flash points at her. “someone get those sugar cookies.” “i’ll go,” ned volunteers, about to stand. peter shoots up from his spot instead. “no, i can do it. you pick a movie to watch later.”

he nudges your shoulder. “y/n, could you help me?” ned makes a face at him. “you know, we need plates and everything,” peter quickly covers up. it’s a good enough explanation for him to focus on logging into disney plus. you take the hint and get to your feet. “yeah, let’s go.”

you follow peter into the kitchen, everyone else giving ned movie suggestions. peter checks behind him to make sure no one is looking. he relaxes after that and leans back against the counter. you stand next to him, closer than usual. he’s not mad about that.

“i feel like we’ve barely talked all night,” peter murmurs and stares down at his feet. you press your lips together. “that’s cuz we haven’t.” “let’s fix that.” he taps your foot with his playfully, getting a laugh out of you. “hey.” “hi,” you say back. “thanks again for the camera. i can’t wait to set it up.” the smile is clear in his voice.

“i’m really happy you like it. i thought you would,” you admit, leaning into him slightly. he welcomes it. “i, uh, actually got a little something for you,” he starts and reaches behind him. your heart is beating out of control again. so is his, but you don’t know that. “aw, peter. you did?”

“it’s... it’s kinda stupid. i’m not sure you even want it-“ “i’ll take anything if it’s from you,” you cut off the rambling he’s about to do. he nods and pulls whatever it is out of his pocket. it goes from behind his back to over your heads. you look up and see mistletoe.

peter moves so he’s in front of you. his face is only inches from yours now, your eyes landing on his lips. he takes the same hand he was holding earlier, lacing your fingers together. “can i kiss you?” he checks, his voice soft. you wind an arm around his neck. “please.”

he presses his lips to yours so lightly, your eyes fluttering shut. it’s so sweet and so long overdue. you tug him closer so the kiss deepens. leaning his head forward, he drops the mistletoe and wraps his other arm around your waist. you’re back against the counter with him hovering over you.

your lips move easily against each other’s like it’s natural for you.

“peter and y/n, what’s taking so-“ mj turns her head and sees you two kissing. “oh, okay!” she cheers, betty glancing curiously. “get it, y/n!” ned and flash join in next. they all holler at you while you kiss. it becomes too funny, and you have to pull away so you can both laugh.

giggling, you bring one of your hands down to the bow peter left on his shirt. you pull on it. “i think you’re my favorite present.” “ever?” he repeats what you said earlier and nudges your nose. his lips brush yours in the process. “ever.”

[baejl]

like a girl

red velvet 6th member au \ superm 8th member au

jaein getting her first win as a solo artist and breaking one more record

Lauryn Hill told me everything is everything  Serena Willy showed me I can win the Wimbledon Uh, put me on a pedestal Bet on me, bet I will

masterlist 🦋 requests are open feedback is awalys important to me!

"Let's see today's results for the first place!" Soobin, the MC, said to the camera and from the small monitor on the stage, Jaein saw the counting.

She was promoting ZGZG in Korea for a week now, and that was the first time she was nominated for first place.

Deep inside, she didn't care about winning or not, but taking that trophy would feel good. Jaein knew that the possibilities to have that win on the first try were almost zero, but she had some hope.

She grabbed her microphone harder and the scores were being shown and looked down to hide how anxious she was.

"Digital charts... Viewer's choice..." Arin said as the numbers showed up.

Listening to some gasps coming from the staffs, Jaein looked up and frowned, trying to read what was written on that little screen.

When she finally did, she got extremely surprised, not even flinching with the confetti.

"Breaking our record with over forty thousand votes, congratulations Jaein!" Soobin clapped and Arin gave her the small trophy.

Jaein looked around to see if that was some type of joke and when she hold the mic, it was pretty clear how much she was shaking.

"Uh..." she cleared her throat. "Oh my God."

The MCs and the staffs behind the cameras giggled at how surprised she was. Deciding not to take too much of their time, she said whatever she was feeling as she didn't even prepare a speech.  

"I wanted to say thank you to all the people who voted and streamed ZGZG during this week. All the staff, performance team, managers, everyone behind the scenes that made this happen." Jaein took a deep breath when her voice started trembling. "Also, my Red Velvet and SuperM members, thank you for supporting me!"

She heard a few cheering coming from backstage and with the corner of her eyes, she realised it was a bit more crowded than it should.

"Kim Jaein! Kim Jaein!"

The girls started shouting her name and that was when she couldn't stop herself and started crying. Especially when she realised Wendy was there too.

"When you need music, Music Bank! Congratulations, Jaein." the MCs said together, wrapping the show up.

The instrumental of ZGZG started to play but all Jaein could do was cry as she managed to hug the girls and bow at the MCs and staff.

The mixed feelings she was having at that moment was that same feeling she had when she got the news of her debut, their first win and even their first rehearsal as a group.

It was immense happiness and relief - to know that, even with her flaws and the sudden polemics, there are people who still support her - that Jaein could only express it by crying her heart out.

She had finally achieved her dream.

"I can't believe you came, unnie." she sobbed, hugging Wendy. "Thank you so much!"

"Ya, stop crying! You won!" Seulgi said, cleaning the tears on her face, just to make her cry more.

"You broke a record, Jaein-ah." Joy told her, recording everything with her phone.

"Today is a happy day..." Irene rubbed Jaein's hair.

"Let's dance!" Yeri pulled Jaein to the centre of the stage, singing and jumping, trying to make Jaein laugh.

Holding her trophy, Jaein tried to dance and sing the parts she could but every time she looked at her members, she'd cry.

"KEEPING ON RUNNING, RUNNING, RUNNING..." Joy sang along with Jaein, even doing the steps.

"Let's make the chorus together!" Wendy suggested, getting in formation.

"1, 2, 3, let's go!" Seulgi counted and started dancing with them.

Jaein just followed them, not even caring about her makeup or anything else, she just wanted to enjoy that moment with the most important people in her life.

In between crying and singing, the instrumental finished and the staff and the girls applauded her.

"Thank you so much." Jaein bowed. "Thank you!"

Hugging Irene's waist, Jaein and the girls left the stage, following their way to the fitting room. When Jaein got in, she was surprised once again.

All her staff were standing and at the back of the room, she saw Jaebeom holding a cake.

"Congratulations Jaein!" the people cheered for her. She let out a loud sob and hide her face on Jaebeom's shoulder, who was laughing at her reaction.

"We thought you'd like it!" he teased her and she lightly slapped his arm.

When she was a bit calmer and the lights were on again, she blew the candles on the cake and looked at her team.

"See? This what you do to me!" she pointed at her face, making everyone laugh. "That's unfair..."

"Here, drink some water." her staff handed her a bottle of water.

"After this much crying, I think she's gonna have to drink a whole water filter." Yeri said.

"I already feel my body drawing. It's your fault." Jaein agreed, making them laugh again.

[atinymonster]

vlive accidents

ateez 9th member.

when rumors start flying around about her and sunwoo dating after sunwoo accidentally reveals his phone wallpaper on a vlive.

➴ masterlist

taglist ➴ @galacticstxrdust, @jiyeons-closet, @banhmi07

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] i’m sorry please don’t freak out

Seeing that message first thing in the morning whilst she and the boys were settling into the waiting room made her stomach churn out of uneasiness. What possibly could’ve happened that he had to text her that ominous line?

[tiny princess 👑💗] why? what happened?

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] don’t get mad but

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] i accidentally showed a little bit of my phone wallpaper during a vlive with changmin hyung last night

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] and deobi’s being quick and observant...some saw it was you...

Jiyu felt her heart drop to her stomach at the thought of a dating scandal breaking out. They just started promotions for Thanxx, and not only did she not want a potential scandal to affect them, she was also worried for Sunwoo and his members.

She bit her lip out of anxiousness, something that didn’t go unnoticed by one of their stylists. “Everything okay, Jiyu?” she asked while prepping out their stage outfits

Jiyu softly smiled. “O–Oh, yeah I’m okay, unnie,” she reassured before returning to her phone.

[tiny princess 👑💗] oh...well...i haven’t been notified of any articles or anything like that...

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] i’m really sorry, know you’re in the middle of promotions :(((

[tiny princess 👑💗] no worries, bub. i know you didn’t mean to

[tiny princess 👑💗] i gotta go, we have dry rehearsals soon

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] good luck, lovebug!

[tiny princess 👑💗] (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

Turning his phone off, Sunwoo let out a sigh as he laid his head onto the table. Eric worriedly looked over. “How’d she take it?” he asked.

Sunwoo groaned. “She wasn’t mad. But I don’t know how she’s actually feeling...”

Truthfully, Jiyu felt anxious. She was anxious about the future and what could potentially happen if articles did pop up. Would she ruin her group’s reputation? What would happen to her and Sunwoo? So many scenarios and questions floated through her head.

Seeing as though something was on her mind, Seonghwa gently nudged the girl as they watched other groups rehearse. “Everything okay?” he asked, worry evident in his voice.

Jiyu pursed her lips before sending him a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to spoil their moods first thing in the morning. “Yeah, just a little sleepy,” she said.

Seonghwa patted his shoulder. “You can lean on me if you want.”

Taking his offer, she rested her head on his shoulder as she continued fretting over the situation. Throughout the day, it ate at her mind. Even the other boys noticed something was wrong from how zoned out and anxious she seemed.

“Ji, what’s wrong?” Hongjoong asked when he discreetly pulled her out of the waiting room. He figured she didn’t want to be asked in front of the others. “You’ve been out of it the whole day.”

Jiyu bit her lip. Could she tell Hongjoong? Sure, he was practically her family—they all were. But she didn’t want to ruin their excitement for thr upcoming promotions.

Seeing her hesitance, he gently patted her head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it yet but—”

“I’m sorry!” she bursted out as she bowed in apology. Guilt started eating at her mind. Hongjoong raised an eyebrow in confusion from her sudden outburst. “Please don’t get mad at me...” she meekly warned before explaining everything.

Once she finished, Hongjoong bit the inside of his cheek in thought. Taking his silence as a negative response, she bowed again. “I know I messed up, but I’ll take full responsibility of the consequences and—”

Hongjoong sighed before patting her shoulder. “Calm down, I’m not mad,” he reassured. Jiyu stood up straight, but she couldn’t make eye contact with him. “None have us have seen any articles about it yet, either. If we did, one of us would’ve said something about it.”

Jiyu nodded. “Yeah...”

Hongjoong looked at the hall clock. “Come on, we should started getting ready. We have to go in ten minutes.” With a last pat to her head, he opened the door and went back inside.

Jiyu was rooted to her spot for a moment. Was he truly not mad at her? Would he tell the others? Her mind started thinking of the worst possibilities. If anything, she was afraid of the company finding out.

But she had no time to worry. Sucking up her worried and concerns, she forced the thoughts deep into the back of her head as she came back into the dressing room. The boys were all still playing around woth each other, indicating that Hongjoong didn’t say anything. Making eye contact with him as he got his mic pack put on, he gave a little nod of confirmation.

“Oh! There you are Baby Monster!” Mingi said when he noticed the girl standing there. “Hurry and get your mic pack on, we’re about to leave,” he said, handing her the mic pack as a staff member came to her to put it on.

She softly smiled. “Okay.”

As if blessed by every higher up out there, no one noticed her anxiousness for the whole day. They safely finished their first Thanxx recording and every other program they had scheduled for the day. Coming home, Jiyu fell into bed as worry consumed her once again.

She could only imagine the guilt Sunwoo was feeling and she frowned. Right when she picked up her phone to check up on him, someone knocked on her bedroom door. “Yes?” she called out.

“Baby Monster, you might want to see this,” came Yunho’s worried tone.

Fearing the worst, she opened the door to her room. Everyone was gathered around and they all stared at her with their eyes widened and panic written all over their faces. Yeosang help up his phone for her to see once he saw her.

Holding her breath out of nervousness, she glanced at his phone and her heart dropped to her stomach at the new article written in all caps across the screen.

ATEEZ’S JIYU AND THE BOYZ’S SUNWOO RUMORED TO BE DATING

Her breath hitched. The boys nervously stared at her, wondering how she would react. Judging by her expression, she was absolutely scared. Scared for the future of what could potentially happen. Her head dropped—she couldn’t look at any of them. “I’m sorry,” she quietly apologized.

Seonghwa took the girl in his arms and gently comforted her. “We’re more worried about you than angry.”

“...I’ll go to the company about it tomorrow,” she said, voice slightly muffled by Seonghwa’s hoodie. “I’ll take responsibility for it.”

They glanced at each other, worried. “But what if you get...” Wooyoung trailed off, not wanting to voice out everyone’s worst thought of what could happen. Removed from the group.

She wryly chuckled. “Then I’ll just have to accept it. It’s my fault after all.”

Hearing her small voice accept reality, Wooyoung’s bottom lip started quivering as he squeezed into Seonghwa’s and Jiyu’s hug. Eventually, they were all standing in the middle of the room in a huddle, trying reassure her that she’d never be kicked out and that she wouldn’t have to break up with Sunwoo—even if the latter sounded a little too good to be true.

Please don’t let me lose any one of them.

[newcaptainofsquad9]

So, When Can We Tell The World? {1} Min Yoongi x black! fem! reader

Parts: 1 2 3 4  5 6 

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been collaborating for a few years, what the public world didn’t know however was that the both of you were in a happy, functioning relationship. After showing up to support at one of your shows, Yoongi suggests going public, making you anxious for him, but most of all your own well-being with his fans and of what the South Korean public would think of you. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Idol-verse, Smut (hinted at in this part, but none explicitly)

Word Count: 2, 046

Author’s Note: So, here we are another series. I know too many, but this one will probably be the same chapter length as Shakespeare Sub, I promise. Anyways, I hope ya’ll enjoy it and if ya’ll have any BTS or EXO requests, send them my way. Thanks!

The last song of the concert always feels surreal. The stage isn’t huge, just a decent sized theater in Bluetsville(your hometown). It’s the thought that gets me, I’ve played at bigger venues before, yet coming back always gets me emotional. Once the song finishes I smile so hard my cheeks hurt and glance out into the crowd as applause fills the entire venue. 

One person stands out the most with his over-sized black hoodie, glasses and a cap with my stage name on it. I wouldn’t have done a double take if he didn’t flash that familiar gummy smile, as if he knew I was going to look there. It’s only a moment, yet I recognize Yoongi’s smile anywhere, he hardly does it even around me. Maybe his fans don’t notice him but in that slip second I did as he claps the loudest before sending me his finger hearts. I start to do it back, but stop myself abruptly. No, that’ll just draw attention to us. It’s almost an exclusive k-pop gesture, which someone on Twitter could easily pick up on. Instead I send him a quick wink. 

“Thank you so much!” I scream.

The crowd reacts in thunderous applause once more, I give one last bow and turn back towards the curtain, disappearing behind it.

***

I find myself dressed down in my dressing room, wearing one of Yoongi’s old hoodies, a snapback and grey sweats. My phone lights up abruptly, signalling an upcoming call from my brother, Kevin of all people. 

“Sup loser,” I say through a low giggle. 

“Yo idiot,” he answers back, “how’d the show go?”

I sigh with a dopey grin.

It was amazing. Even though the people packed together in swayed, waved and sung together like a frenzied horde, I couldn’t help but think back to Yoongi. I hope he got to wherever he needed to safely. 

“Uh, did you hear me?” Kevin asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” I say quickly, “it went amazing, a little more daunting compared to my first tour.”

Kevin gaffs.   

“If that didn’t boost your chances at the Grammys, I don’t know what will!” 

I chuckle against the phone at my brother’s words. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works Kev,” I say, “I don’t really care, they invited me, I guess to preform.”

Kevin hums. 

“Yeah?” he asks, “And what about ol’ Agust D, eh? he performing with you? I heard him and the guys were supposed to be there too.”

I can’t help but smile when he mentions Yoongi’s other rap persona. That album was what made me discover Yoongi’s music, along with BTS’s discography and eventually pushed me to want to collaborate with them. What I didn’t expect was to fall in love with Yoongi during our time recording All The Crown Players(a song from your album). 

“I’m not really sure,” I say, “you know how they can be.”

“Oh, I know, how can they snub you twice!” Kevin whines, “anyway, I gotta go! Next time you talk to ol’ Suga tell him I said hey!”

I roll my eyes. 

“I told you  to call him Yoongi,” I groan. 

“Ey, that’s what the fans call him,” he says, “talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too idiot,” I say.

Kevin starts to say something else but I hang up anyway. If he’s got something to do he won’t call back as fast and I won’t get another earful. 

“That’s what you get for teasing me about my boyfriend,” I mutter to myself.  

A text from Yoongi lights my phone up instead. 

Yoongi: It amazes me every time you perform, God you were so amazing babe

My dopey smile returns once my fingers numbly tap the keypad in response.

Me: I saw you at the end! How the hell did you get in without anyone recognizing you?

Yoongi responds straight away.

Yoongi: I have my ways. I’ve been doing this for seven years sweetheart, I’ve mastered the art of incognito mode. 😎

My grin spreads out at his message. My fingers follow the lame joke that pops into my head, yet I couldn’t care less.

Me: So, what you’re Batman? No, Anpanman! 😂😂

I giggle out as Yoongi’s response takes a little longer, as it should. Between my lame jokes and Jin’s dad jokes I think he’s fed up with the both of us. At least with me it makes some sort of sense. 

A moment passes, instead of a text back I get a call from Yoongi. Oh boy. 

“Hello?” I answer.

“I know you’re laughing,” Yoongi says, “I just want to confirm that it wasn’t funny.”

I cover my mouth to stifle the remaining giggles that flood out. 

“I know, but it’s true,” I say, “you are my Anpanman.”

Yoongi grumbles something that I can’t make out. 

“Sorry babe, what was that?” I ask. 

“Nothing Jagi,” he says, “anyway —”

“Yoongi,” I warn, “tell me, please?”

Yoongi sighs deeply.

“I said, I better be your Anpanman,” he admits, “are you happy now?” 

“Yes,” I say, “how long are you gonna be here?”

“As long as you want me,” Yoongi answers, “we got a small break before Grammys and the MMAs. I was wondering if we could meet at your place.”

My heart hammers in my chest at his words. We’ve stayed with each other overnight before, yet I always feel like I’m some lovestuck teenager when I’m around Yoongi. We rarely get moments together, if it’s public we have to remain friendly, but not too friendly to raise dating suspicions. Even when he’s here in America it’s difficult to schedule time for each other. I’m an artist too and BTS is getting just as huge, the fact that Yoongi and I both have time before the Grammy’s is a God send.    

“Y/N?” Yoongi asks, breaking me from my thoughts. 

“Yeah, we can meet there,” I reassure, “you still have a key?”

“You know I do,” he says, “see you there.”

I bit my lip before humming in agreement. 

***

The moment I step across the threshold of my house, I shut the door and twist the locks in place. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist before I can get a chance to take my hands off the cold locks. 

“I need to go to your shows more often,” Yoongi says. 

I shiver at his breath near my ear and turn around in his arms to face him. He’s in his dark hoodie, but the hat is gone, revealing soft, short brown hair that falls into his eyes. 

“You come when you can,” I say, “I’m just glad you got there safely.”

Yoongi chuckles while he moves a hand up to cup my face. 

“You worry too much,” he notes, “I’m here, ok?”

His eyes soften as they bore into mine, he leans in to press our foreheads together. I follow his lead, our lips meet in a fierce kiss, something we haven’t been able to do in months. My fingers find themselves in his brown locks as he groans into the kiss, backing up slightly, yet not disconnecting from my lips. 

I pull back with a giggle.

“Are you good?”

Yoongi nods and nudges his head towards my velvet sofa. 

“I just wanted to take this to the couch,” he admits, “your concert took everything out of me.”

“Oh really?”

Yoongi nods as I take his hand and lead him to the sofa before we both plop down on it. 

“Really,” he confirms with a kiss, “you kinda got me worked up actually.”

I return his kisses fully, pull myself up into his lap and rub down his chest. 

“Is that in a good way?” I challenge. 

Yoongi growls against my jaw, kissing down my neck as his hands rub up and down my sides. 

“Oh it’s good baby, so good,” he groans, “God, tug your fingers in my hair again.”

I nod as our lips meet once again, my fingers find themselves in his hair as our make out continues. His moans make me smile, his hips bucking up against me as the kisses grow hungrier. 

“You’re so needy,” I whisper, “do you need me to take care of that?”

Yoongi’s eyes close as he nods. 

“Please, I, God, I love you,” he moans. 

My hands freeze once I reach for the buckle of his pants. Did he just say the l word? 

Yoongi opens his eyes, the lust that was once there is replaced with concern.

“Y/N?” he asks, “you all right?”

I nod and slide back onto the couch from his lap. 

“Yeah,” I lie. 

Of course I knew he loved me, he never says it though. I’m the one you says it, and Yoongi always responds with a “me too” or “love you more.” Never fully. It shouldn’t bother me much, yet it does for some reason. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi says. 

I look up and his face is only an inch from my own. 

“Was that too much?” he asks, “what did I do wrong?”

I stroke his cheek and shake my head. 

“Nothing, it’s just,” I pause before continuing, “it was just surprising to hear I love you from you.”

Yoongi pulls back to pull me into an embrace. 

“You had me worried,” he whispers, “I know I need to say it more especially when we’re pressed for time together.”

I smile in the crook of his neck. 

“No, it’s fine,” I say, “we can keep it between us.”

Yoongi pulls back with a puzzled glare.

“What do you mean?”

I sit up and gnaw at my lip. 

“Maybe, we shouldn’t say it often, because I don’t want it to slip out at the wrong time,” I explain, “with ARMY and all those girls clawing at you.”

Yoongi chuckles as he leans in to plant a few kisses down my neck. 

“Do they make you jealous?” he asks.

I can hardly focus as his lips continue to work. 

“Well, a little,” I say, “it’s a lot to live up to.”

Yoongi grows serious. I end up against his chest as his arms wound themselves tightly around me. His heart beats rhythmically in tune with mine, forcing me to calm down just a bit.

“They don’t hold a candle to you,” he says, “I love them, but it’s a different type of love. You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The words get lodged in my throat at the intense look Yoongi throws at me. He’s completely serious. 

“Yoongi-”

“Y/N, I want to tell the world,” he admits, “ARMY, everyone.”

Where is he going with this?

“Yoongi, what are you-”

“We should be official,” Yoongi declares.

My mind goes haywire. He isn’t serious, right?

“But we are official,” I say, “Yoongi, we’ve already established that we’re dating.”

Yoongi shakes his head this time.

“Y/N you know what I mean,” he says, “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

A rush comes to my head at once. The headlines would be horrendous: “BTS star Suga has been revealed to be dating ‘urban’ Hip Hop artist Y/N Y/L/N.” Kpop Twitter will literally implode in on itself. Yoongi won’t get any rest and I won’t be able to live it down. If I was Korean maybe, just maybe I would get out alive, even if I was white too, but as a black woman? There’s not a chance in hell.

“Babe, please tell me what you’re thinking,” Yoongi pleads,”you’ve been quiet for awhile.”

“Yoongi, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.

“How come?” he asks.

“Well, for one, do you know what happened with Chen? Kai? Jennie?” I ask, “the fans would devour me!”

“They wouldn’t,” he grumbles, “you’re an amazing person, singer, rapper and writer.”

“Yeah and black,” I say bluntly, “they can’t get past that.”

Yoongi takes both of my hands prior to squeezing tightly. 

“I know, but they’ll just have to handle it, right?”

It’s like the words aren’t even being comprehended. Does he not hear me? 

I inhale slowly and stand from the couch. 

“Y/N-”

I give Yoongi an artificial smile, something to get him off my back for a moment. 

“I-I’m ok, I-I just need some time to myself,” I say. 

Yoongi deflates, but nods anyway before leaning back into the couch. 

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter Four

{ My idea of the flowers, painting, and pearl necklace because I need visual things. sorry. if you don't want pictures just let me know}

Harry was wrapping the framed painting in bubble wrap when his phone started ringing. He grabbed it. frowning when he saw it was a facetime request from Louis. Which was weird for many reasons especially since it was currently 2 in the morning in Manchester. Harry hesitated but accepted it only to laugh when he saw Louis was completely drunk and squinting at the phone.

"Louis.. Louis no. You can't call your boyfriend drunk off your ass."

"Yes, I can. Leave me alone. I want to call him."

"Louis you will regret in the morning and besides you remember our rule. Friends don't let friends drunk call boyfriends. Or text. Or just handle a phone in general. So give it here."

"No." Harry quickly started recording his screen so he could send it to Louis tomorrow.

"Fine. I need to go find Niall and Zayn then we are leaving got it?"

"Got it, dad."

"Nialler!" Louis frowned at the screen and tapped at it.

"Call Hazzy. Call Hazzy. Siri... Siri.. call- Liam my phone isn't calling him!" Louis yelled over the sound of the music and people in the pub

"Louis do not climb on the table. No get down people are going to think you're a dancer with that ass of yours. No, don't shake it. Fucking christ Louis. How you've not been approached all night is beyond me with the way you do things."

The phone was on the table that Louis was currently standing on with a drink in his hand. He was shaking, what Harry now knew was a very round ass as a song played in the music. Harry put his phone against the stand so he could go back to bubble wrapping while also paying attention to a very cute drunk Louis. Eventually, Louis and the others were dragged to a car than inside a house. Louis had been telling the phone to call ''Hazzy'' for the past ten minutes.

"Go to sleep Louis." Liam said as pushed Louis onto the bed, Louis whined as he looked at his phone.

"Siri. Text Hazzy night night xxx. Kay? Bye." Harry covered his mouth as Louis fell asleep almost immediately

"Night night Louis." Harry said as he looked at the phone screen, studying Louis' features. He was cute and breathtaking even with his flushed face from alcohol and the cold wintery air. Harry ended the recording then the facetime shaking his head we he sent Louis the video.

Night Louis xx

Louis was able to not look at the video until he was soaking in the tub only a few hours later. He had woken up puking and he very much regretted taking Niall up on the drinking contest. He had known of course to never try and out drink an Irish, but he had already been drunk and he was stupid when he drank. He watched the video twice, once to see what he did as he didn’t remember anything and the second time to see Harry's reaction to everything.

They had never spoken about what they looked like, but for some reason, Louis was not at all surprised to see Harry with a curly bun resting on the top of his head as if he hadn't brushed it yet. Which no judgment from Louis, everyone has those days. He also wasn't surprised to see he had soft muscles like he was mo muscular, but not buff and not overly so, just enough to give a soft outline of his forearms. His jawline was perfect and he had a brilliant smile and his emotions portrayed in his eyes open as he glanced at the phone regularly.

Louis watched as he bubbled wrapped what Louis was assuming his next set of gifts there was already a long skinny box taped and closed that Louis thought Harry put a painting in. Louis also saw a scatter of fake flowers again on the ground around him. Louis knew Harry from somewhere, he just couldn't place it and it bothered him as he paused the video staring at Harry's face as he looked at the camera. Not able to think too much on it Louis moved on. He got out of the bath and headed back to bed to sleep some more.

***

The next few days were without texting because Harry was going from Sydney to Los Angeles, Sydney was almost a full day ahead of L.A, 17 hours to be exact so Harry took two days, after a 13-hour flight, to settle into the time zone differences. It also meant that Harry was now 8 hours behind London which means Louis now woke up first and went to sleep first, not the other way around. It took a few days to adjust to it, but they did adjust eventually. Louis only accidentally woke Harry up once.

Harry had sent the package of Chinese and Australian souvenirs before he had gotten on a flight. Louis had gotten a notification telling him he had packages delivered at the p.o boxes so after work he had headed there excitedly. He headed to the locker and pulled out the two 20x20x20 boxes then pulled out a 37x4x27 picture box. He put the items in his car and grabbed the note that was sticking out and Harry told him to look for.

Before going home head here if it's before 8pm.

There was an address written in the note so Louis typed it into his Maps and headed there parking upfront of a flower shop. He shook his head as he got out walking inside the.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"I don't know. My boyfriend-"

"You're Louis then. This way dear." Louis followed the woman to a back room where she grabbed a beautiful bouquet of flowers, "he told us to pick them for a long-distance partner. We made sure love was represented too much as he told us you guys wanted to wait to see each other in person. He did say you two were exclusive and committed so we made sure represent that. Faithfulness and admiration as well as honesty, trust, and longing." Louis blushed as he accepted the bouquet

"Thank you."

"Of course dear." Louis headed to his car and grabbed his phone texting Harry that the flowers were beautiful and that he'll send pictures when he got home. He had been debating whether to tell Harry his address so he could just send it to the house and as he struggled to only make one trip inside he decided he would do that.

"Need help?" Liam asked already grabbing the picture box and flowers, "how's the boyfriend? Spoiling you rotten still I see.

"Leave him alone. It's cute." Louis set the box on the coffee table then grabbed the picture box and sat that on top of it.

He then headed to where he had put the vase from Denmark at the end table in the hall that had a clutter of mail, keys, and other knick-knacks they didn’t bother to clear away. He filled the vase with water then carried it to the living room, he put his flowers inside the vase then carried it upstairs setting it on his bedside table. Louis adjusted a few things then took a picture of it sending it to Harry.

Hurrying downstairs he was anxious to see the picture, he had let it slip he liked Chinese paintings when Harry was sending pictures of an art gallery he was visiting. Louis hadn't thought of it, but now that he saw what could possibly be a painting he was a little worried that it may have come off wrongly. He didn’t want Harry to think he only wanted these gifts, not that he didn’t appreciate them and love them, but they weren't wanted.

"Open up the long box first." Niall said eagerly

"I was going to Neil." Louis grabbed the box and broke the tape pulling out a beautifully framed painting of pink flowers and black bark that make Louis smile as he thought it matched his real flowers upstairs. He set it off to the side then set the box off to the ground sp he could open a 20x20x20 box. Ripping the tape he laughed seeing Christmas wrapping paper wrapped around different items. There was a letter there and he unfolded it reading its contents,

Louis,

Do not open until Christmas except the one with the double bow. Open that one on the 24th. I'll be free on the 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 31st, and 1st. Make sure to have it set up as soon as you open it for skyping.

Harry xx.

Louis set the letter off to the side and grabbed the first gift with a green bow. He frowned though when he saw it was addressed to Niall.

"This is for you Niall. Harry says not to open it u too Christmas though."

"What? Really? Sweet." Louis handed him the rectangular package then pulled out another rectangular box with Niall's name. "Is he trying to win us over?" Niall asked

"He's just thoughtful like that." Louis said with a shrug as he pulled out two packages with a lighter green bow.

They had Zayn’s name on them so he handed them to him. Liam's two packages had a white bow on them and the rest had red bows. Louis set them under the tree carefully nothing the one package at the bottom had two bows, a red and green. The second box had a few packaged wrapped in birthday wrapping paper with a note telling him not to open them until his birthday. He set them under the tree as well for now then pulled out the Teddy bears for China and Australia.

The China souvenirs consisted of a few different teas for Louis with descriptions of what they tasted like to Harry without anything added to them. A few large paper cuttings with a note saying they are placed in windows in China and at night with a light on it looked " cool ". Louis chuckled as the simple explanation as he set them aside he did like them, the bright red was beautiful. He was already thinking of ways to decorate his room with a Chinese accent wall above his headboard. Next was a Chinese silk wall hanging that was a beautiful blue shade. Following that was some sweats, a few Chinese knots, a box of beautifully painted chopsticks, and then the last thing was a long rectangular box. The sticky note on it read,

I have a set too. I wear mine often, but you don't have to wear them I just wanted to get you a pair to have. Never know when you may need them.

Louis opened the box revealing a three chain set of pearls. Louis grinned and ran a gentle finger over them. He has seen a glimpse of Harry's pearl's over his shirt during their facetime. Louis still couldn't quite place where he knew Harry from and it's been bugging him.

Moving on for the Australian souvenirs the first thing was a lot of T2 Tea products which Louis was grateful for. He loved trying new teas and the fact Harry has bought at least one tea product from each country meant a lot to Louis and showed him that Harry paid attention. After the tea, it was some classic Vegemite with a note telling Louis it tasted like three days old Thai take out that had Louis laughing. There a side note saying no one was allowed to taste it without it being recorded.

Following the Vegemite was some food and snacks, an adorable koala ceramic mug, a 3D Ned Kelly mug that Zayn took and claimed as his own. Following those, there were some kid-friendly wooden puzzles, 21 kookaburras, koala, kangaroo, emu, and crocodile growing eggs for each child and staff member at the daycare center. 25 paint your own boomerang kits for the daycare and the lads that they were going to paint later that night as they share a bottle of whiskey together. Then the last few items were just small Australian animal bouncy balls for the daycare and of course some teas.

"He really likes those kids." Liam said as he examined the boomerang kit

"We both want a big family one day, that's something we have mentioned in passing and he knows I adore the kids at the daycare. He loves kids."

"You two have talked about kids?"

"Not like that, but yes it sort of came up while we were talking about the daycare." Louis shrugged as he put the kids’ things in the box to take it to the daycare after the holidays. Today had been the last day of work until the 2nd of January. He set that box aside then packed the rest of his stuff in the other box and headed up to his room to decorate.

[sxfterhearts]

15. [8:30 pm]

part 1

There was a wooden bench at the edge of the garden, where you sat as you waited for Yugyeom. You didn’t really mind as it gave you a picturesque view of the long pond in front of you that stretched to the other end of the garden, with a marble fountain in the centre. You particularly enjoyed watching the reflection of the moon and the stars on the sparkling, still waters on this chilly spring night. And if you turned your head around, you could witness the ball that was currently in full swing beyond the ball venue’s Venetian windows.

Being amongst nature and breathing in fresh, grass-scented air did little to calm your residual nerves. The earlier dance performance went smoothly, with no hiccups. The crowd jammed to the song, Teenager, which Yugyeom said was composed by Jaebeom and his song-writing friends, and everyone went wild when the seven girls, including you, Jackson’s girlfriend, Haesoo, and Sora, your class president, joined in at the second verse. The boys and the girls completed the remainder of the choreography in the style of a dance battle, which turned out much better than you expected. The boys’ plan for Jaebeom to ask Sora to be his girlfriend when the song ended was successful as well. You watched Jaebeom serenade her suavely with Ed Sheeran’s Perfect as she sat on a chair in the middle of the dance floor, holding up your respective banner in front of the pair just like the rest of the performers to spell out the question, “Will you do me the honour of being my girlfriend, Sora? ♡”. The group found out later that Bambam held his card, the question mark, upside down, which resulted in playful scoldings by his hyungs. Nonetheless, with a hand over her mouth to contain her laughter and amusement, she willingly accepted Jaebeom’s bouquet of pink peonies you picked earlier from the florist while nodding eagerly.

In other words, the night’s most highly anticipated events were over. And yet, your legs bounced slightly to the strong bass of the song playing within the building, while you rubbed your sweaty palms against your dark ripped jeans every so often. There was absolutely no reason for you to feel nervous – except for the words that Yugyeom whispered in your ears earlier as the two of you stood side by side during Jaebeom’s confession: “I’ll explain later, wait for me outside, okay?”.

You were confused, to say the least. Even prior to the performance, you noticed how uneasy Yugyeom looked when Jackson called you over to join the rest of the performers at their table. You dismissed it, thinking that it was probably due to performance nerves, but when one of the girls asked you why you never came to any of their dance practices, Yugyeom quickly hushed them and changed the topic, raising your suspicions even further.

You were curious about that, too. For the past two weeks, Yugyeom had dragged you to the dance studio after school nearly every evening, where the two of you would perfect the choreography until nightfall. During those two weeks, whenever you asked about practicing with the rest of the performers, he always dismissed you, saying that it was best for you to practice one-on-one with him, the head choreographer, without any distractions. “It’s more efficient, of course. I don’t want you to lag behind.” Yugyeom would say, before urging you to get back into your position and restarting the music.

Not practicing with the rest of the group made you particularly anxious, so you were understandably concerned about how the performance would go. Practicing with Yugyeom did have its perks, though. You had his undivided attention during those short few hours, both in the dance studio and after practice was over. You couldn’t help but follow his every step with intrigued eyes as he danced, mesmerised by his graceful yet powerful dance movements. You picked up on his small gestures beyond dancing too, like when he wordlessly carried the large bag of convenience store snacks while walking you home, or how he would always serve you the first piece of tteokbokki that you shared. Yugyeom hadn’t changed a bit since primary school, where he made a name of himself in the dance team that you both joined as a respectful young boy who not only danced well, but also gave up his own time to help his peers and younger kids with nailing the choreographies. Your old dance instructor, who you still caught up with every now and then, had filled you in on these stories. It seemed like it was Yugyeom’s inherent nature to offer you his raincoat as he walked under the rain, and to make sure that you always walked on the inside of the pavement, out of harm’s way.

The sharp clicking of dress shoes against the stone pathway of the garden shook you out of your thoughts. You kept your eyes glued to the floor, not brave enough to look at its owner. Despite your many protests, your heart began to race within your chest as Yugyeom approached you, his feet stopping right in front of you.

“Noona, your shoelaces are untied.” He said in a low voice. Just as you were about to bend forwards to fix them, he crouched down, kneeling before you as his lithe fingers tied your shoelace in a neat bow with practiced movements. It was then that you noticed how close your faces were. When you lifted your head slightly, you noticed everything – from the way his long eyelashes fluttered as he blinked and the cute little mole under his right eye, to the slight upturn of his glossy lips. “There, all done.” Satisfied, Yugyeom looked up, his irises, a striking light grey due to his coloured contacts, bore into your brown ones.

“Thanks…”

“You’re still in your performance clothes, Noona.” He remarked. The boys had decided to perform in their suits and ties, while the girls all agreed to wear street-style clothing and avoid dancing in their ball gowns. You had opted for a pair of ripped jeans, a black tank top under a plaid, red and blue shirt. It was definitely more comfortable than the light blue, off-shoulder floral prom dress and high heels that you arrived in, which was why you hadn’t bothered to change outfits again. “Although I prefer this look on you, aren’t you cold?”

“I-” Your breath hitched at his casual compliment.

“Here.” Before you could protest, he was already in the process of slipping off his blazer and draping it over your shoulders. It was a few sizes too big, but it did a much better job at keeping you warm than the thin plaid shirt you were wearing.

“Are you my stylist, Kim Yugyeom?” You asked teasingly, clutching the lapels close to you as he laughed, a sound that drowned out the music from indoors, the mild chirping of crickets and the hum of traffic in the distance. It was a sound you grew familiar with during your time together. “You told me you’d explain your weird behaviour and yet all you’ve done in the past five minutes is make two changes to my outfit.”

Instead of answering you, Yugyeom fiddled with his phone for a few moments. “Before I answer your questions, I have something I want to show you, Noona.”

Under the radiant, silvery moonlight, surrounded by the warmth of his blazer and the relaxing, floral scent of his cologne, you watched in awe as the boy began to dance to the beginning of Bazzi and Camila’s Beautiful. You realised then and there that never in a million years would you get bored or tired of watching Yugyeom dance. The way his body glided across his makeshift stage; the way he moved with such grace and precision – it was like he was physically embodying the music. You could feel how he was conveying his emotions through the dance, emotions of admiration, of longing, of passion. It was as though he was trying to confess to you through his dance.

“Can I have this dance?” Yugyeom paused somewhere during the second verse, opting instead to hold out his hand to you while swaying to the music. His confident demeanour fell away, replaced by a tight-lipped, somewhat nervous smile.

The thunderous drumming of your heartbeat echoed within your ears as you clasped his outstretched hand in yours, allowing him to pull you up on your feet. Yugyeom guided your other hand to his shoulder while his settled upon your waist, the two of you swaying gently to the smooth, harmonious vocals. You hadn’t been this close to the younger boy before, and it was making you nervous. Once again, you trained your eyes towards the ground.

“Noona, can you look at me please while I tell you this?” His melodious voice sounded so close, too close to your ears. You felt goosebumps rise on the skin of your neck as you reluctantly lifted your head and met his eyes. In those grey irises, you saw a reflection of yourself. Just like Yugyeom, you were nervous, uncertain, yet waiting in anticipation.

Waiting. You always seemed to be waiting when it came to Yugyeom.

“I’m sorry about how I acted earlier. It’s just… I talked to the hyungs but the other noonas don’t know the reason why you never attend our group rehearsals.” He confessed sheepishly.

You quirked an eyebrow at this. “What is the reason, Gyeom?”

“I didn’t want you to go. I wanted you to practice without-”

“Without any distractions?” You finished for him.

He nodded quickly. “I know I sound like a broken record for saying this all the time, but it’s half of the reason.”

“What’s the other half, then?”

Yugyeom’s gaze faltered, his eyes flickering away from yours, travelling across your features before returning to your eyes again. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I was selfish. I wanted to practice with you, only you.”

“Why?” You asked bravely, already aware of where this conversation was heading.

“Because… You know why, Noona.” Yugyeom whined softly.

“What is it, Yugyeomie?” You pushed gently. Stop making me guess… For once, don’t let me wait too long, Kim Yugyeom, you thought to yourself.

“I like you, Noona.” He sighed, as if the weight of his secret had been lifted off his shoulders. “I was selfish and wanted to spend more time alone with you. Even when we had already nailed the moves, I insisted that we stay back a little longer to go over the entire song again. I’d bribe you with food later, just so I can listen to your voice as you tell me about your day. I used any lame excuse I could think of to message you or send you memes. I guess I just wanted to make the most of our time together, because I know that our initial deal was to be dance partners and then part ways.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. It was true that two weeks ago, the two of you had agreed to just be dance partners, and nothing more. However, you couldn’t deny that over the course of these two weeks, you had learnt so much about Yugyeom as a person, and that you truly enjoyed spending time with him, even if it meant occasionally bailing on bubble tea dates with your best friend or weekend trips with the girls. He had become such an essential part of your day, from the first good morning text, to the last good night, and every other silly message in between.

As you sorted out your thoughts, Yugyeom took your silence as a bad sign and released your hand from his, even going so far as to taking a step back to create some distance between you two. “I… I know this is a lot, and I understand if you don’t feel the same way. We just reconnected again after two weeks so it’s completely normal. I just wanted you to know that I really treasure the time we spent together. You hadn’t changed a bit, Y/N.”

“What does that mean?”

“When we were younger, we were in the same dance team, remember? I was in a different team because of my age, but I managed to get into the top team for my age group. Every month, my instructor allowed us to perform in front of two judges and if we passed, we got to rise to a higher team. Of course, I failed the first time. I was probably ten at the time and I really wanted to get into the team above mine which was for your age group, and I worked so hard for that evaluation. It was my only chance to get noticed by the sweet noona that I loved watching during performances, and I lost it. I was devasted so I crouched outside the dance studio and cried. Then, I felt a hand patting my head. When I looked up, I was met by that sweet noona’s smile who told me I must never give up, and a box of chocolate milk.”

You gasped, recollecting the memory. You had brought two boxes of chocolate milk to dance practice that day because you didn’t get selected for the competition team and you were determined to practice from sunrise until sunset to sharpen your movements. You remembered hearing the cries of a young boy who curled himself into a ball beside the doors of the studio, and your heart ached for him. Rejection and failure were two things that you knew all too well. You quickly pulled out your chocolate milk and handed it to the boy, hoping that it would provide some sort of reassurance for him.

“That was you? I had no idea…”

Yugyeom chuckled. “Yeah, I didn’t know that all this time you were studying in the all-girls school across the road. I was shocked when you turned up in the bowling alley. I could recognise your face even in that dim, blue lighting.”

“I’m sorry, Gyeom. All this time, I didn’t know…”

“No, don’t apologise. It wasn’t like you had any reason to recognise me anyway. That encounter outside the dance studio was the first and last time we saw each other for nearly seven years. I grew up after that, hit puberty and everything, and you left the team.”

“But still-”

“It’s alright, Noona. Like I said, I treasure every moment we spend together.” He heaved a disappointed sigh. “And I understand if you want to go back to being strangers again, just like we agreed. No hard feelings.”

“How about we go back to yesterday, instead?” You suggested, a smile threatening to spread across your lips. “I like how we are right now. I like spending time with you, talking to you, eating with you, watching you dance. I don’t want to lose that, Gyeom. I don’t want to lose you.”

Yugyeom gasped audibly, unable to believe his ears. “You mean, you don’t want to get rid of me?”

“Of course not, Kim Yugyeom. I sorta kinda like you too.” You admitted, your voice lowering to a whisper. “By the way, this is the perfect time to ask me out on a fast food date. They served way too little food and I’m still starving.”

His eyes disappeared into tiny half-moons as his contagious, delightful laughter sounded beside your ears. “Noona, do you want to go out with me? For a burger?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

//

Your phone vibrated against the countertop as you were busy devouring the greasy burger. With your cleaner hand, you unlocked the device and opened the message from Jackson.

“It’s Jackson.”

“What did hyung say?” Yugyeom asked from beside you as he stuffed his face with fries and washed it down with a gulp of Coke.

Your eyes widened as it landed upon the picture he sent. It was low resolution because of the lack of decent lighting, but you could just make out two figures slow dancing in the dark.

The message under it read: Y/N, welcome to the gang! Our Yugyeomie never shuts up about you and it’s great to finally perform with you, his idol. Let any of us know if the kid brings you any trouble – his hyungs will discipline him accordingly. Have fun and remember to use protection! 😉 PS. Jaebeom says thank you for the flowers, Sora loves them!

[littleangel4996]

My Fate pt 4

The face you can't say no to

Summary:  You find Michael standing in front of the one house that everybody died in and what he asks you...Wells let's just say you were like fuck no

Warning: Breaking and Entering Murder House, language, you unlock a power of you're own, captured

Y/n's P.O.V

It's been 3 days living with Michael and we've have been pretty well. There were bad times where Michael would leave his clothes on the bathroom floor, fights about taking turns in the shower or watching TV, toothpaste in the sink, drinking from the juice/milk container etc etc etc. But we've learned how to talk it out and taking turns. I was just coming home from dropping off an application for teachers aid at an elementary school that's 30 minutes away from the house. The lady, named ms.Solomons said she would give me a call this week or next. I fished my phone out of my pocket skirt to check the time and see if anybody called till I saw Michael standing outside of an very old house.

“Michael?” I called out but he stood there like a statue. My eyes followed what was Michael gazing at. An old classic Victorian house that looked like it was built in the 1920’s.

“They call it murder house” I turn my attention to Michael as he turns his head towards me.

“My grandma told me a story about it. 36 deaths have occurred and been documented in the house from 1922 to 2011."

I never knew that. Well how could I know, I lived in New Orleans my whole life and this is the first time I'm living in LA.

“ Michael, maybe we should go inside”

“To murder house” he asked almost excited. Serious infact. I hope that was a joke. “No, I meant our house" I pointed.

"Okay maybe later tonight after dinner" he asked.

"No way" I scolded.

"Oh come on (y/n) please, I really-" I cut him off putting my hand up.

"No, no no no no no no no and end of discussion. I had enough madness for almost a week, so let's go!” I grab him by the hand as walked to our home. Plus that place is gated. Yes I know how to pick locks but I still don't want to take the chance of me and Michael getting in trouble or worse, killed.

-

Tonight it was homemade lasagna with Cesar salad and garlic bread. I called Michael down for dinner as he strides over to the kitchen.

“Oh great my favorite. You are an awesome chef” Michael complimented me, I know something smells fishy going on and I don't like it. I hope Michael doesn't bribe about the house again. I take my seat across from Michael as we dig in.

“Is this lasagna homemade” he asks with food stuffed in his mouth. Yep I knew he was going to do this, he's going to talk me into it.

“Yes Michael it is. I know what you're doing it's not going to work” I tell him as I take a bite as he takes a bite of the garlic bread.

“ You know there are ghosts living there” he eggs on and I rolled my eyes.

“Michael, end of discussion now eat”.

“Fine..prude” he huffed. Did this shit head just call me no fun? So I threw a crouton at him as he looked at me dead in the eye having Selene hissing at the both of us and we went back to eating. He started it.

-

After we finished cleaning the kitchen he still kept pegging on about that goddamn murder house next door. I've made it clear to him if he talks to me about murder house one more time I'm making him sleep outside of the backyard.

Michael knows I won't do it but still he keeps it up I'll turn him into a mouse if I have to. Hey Selene is a cat and Michael would be the mouse...Tom and Jerry. I laughed at just the thought of that a little. Picking up the brush as I sat in front of the mirror brushing the knots out of my (h/l) (h/c) hair after blow drying it. Selene hops on top of my vanity table, purring against me as I give her kisses on top of her snowy white head.

KNOCK KNOCK

Probably Michael going to bother me about murder house. I slammed my brush down, marching my way to the door and opening my door harshly.

I expect to see Michael in his pajamas but instead he is dressed in all black hoodie, jeans and boots. Is he planning on going to that house alone? He can't be serious, can he?

“May I please come in” with seriousness in his voice. I nodded my head as he walks into the room where he takes a seat on my bed along with him.

All was heard were silence until I spoke first.

“ Michael, why do you want to go to that house so bad? Is it about what your grandma told you about the history of that house?” Michael kept his gaze on the wooden floor, hands on his lap.

“Michael, please.” I place my hand on top of his as he looks up at me. I need to understand why you feel like you need to fulfil that duty”.

He says “ I believe my grandma is in that house.” I made this quizzical look at Michael.

“ But Michael you don't even know if your grandma died, she could be in Hawaii drinking pina coladas not giving a damn about you”.

“You don't understand, (y/n)” he pinched the bridge of his nose already irritated. 'well join the club Mikey'.

“ On what? please enlighten me because I am dying to hear this!” I snapped.

“I SAW HER ALRIGHT” he shouted. I’m not so sure if I heard this one right but did he just said that he “saw her” like in the flesh saw her. “ Michael are you sure you saw what you saw?”

“You’re a witch right” he retorted.

“ Michael just because I’m a fucking witch that doesn't mean i've spoken nor seen ghosts” I retorted back. But I get what he's saying, I would want to know if anyone I known are either dead or alive.

“Plus this was my grandma's bedroom, the fireplace was always her favorite part of her room,” he said. Goddamnit, I can’t believe I'm going to do this.

I got up from my bed walking to my dresser taking out socks, pants and a long sleeve.

“ Michael get out I need to change please.” Michael turned around with a smile plastered on his face and eyes litting up.

“So that means-”

“GET OUT BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND!”

-------

The time was 10:45 pm and so far the neighborhood is clear. God, Michael better appreciate this because I just might get killed.

We stopped in front of the house. Just by looking at it gives me the creeps, it's even more creepier during night time. I look around my surroundings to make sure it's clear. I wouldn't like it if my neighbors found out that i'm a witch, even though Ms.Goode addressed to the world about witches.   

“Okay Michael, I need you to take my hand”

He turns around with a questioning look as I annoyingly sighed.

“In order for me to get into that goddamn fucking murder house I need to teleport us inside”. He finally got the memo, holding on to me as I concentrate on where I want to land.

As I take a hair pin out of my hair, fiddling with the lock. I could use my magic to unlock the door but it's only one lock so it shouldn't be a problem plus anything simple doesn't always needs to be solved by magic.

"Can you just unlock it with your magic. You know, it'll go a little bit faster" .

"Patience is a virtue" Michael is anxious I know, hell I'm scared out of my pants but I felt so bad for Michael and wanted to do this for him.

'just a little more and-'

WHAM

I jumped, covering my mouth from screaming when Michael kicked the door open.

Giving him my death glare he did a kind gesture as he bowed saying " After you m'lady" and I walked trying to stay angry at him but I couldn't. The house was so dark and dusty I felt like I was going to sneeze. Plus it felt really cold, cold as death. Why did I agree to come here oh why didn't I put my foot down and said that beautiful word "No"?

Oh I know why because Michael guilt tripped me that's why. Michael tapped me on the arm and saw he had a flashlight in his hand passing it to me as I thanked him, turning on the light.

The inside of the house looked more beautiful than the outside of the house, damn I think would have picked this one instead if it weren't for the bad vibes I'm getting, the very spooky kind.  

"Hey, let's go there" Michael's ready to storm to the right room but not before I caught him by the hoodie, dragging his goofy ass over here.

"Look, I already feel the dark presence of this spooky pretty house. So we must stick together, capiche?!" I whispered harshly and Michael nods his head looking almost hurt.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want anything bad happening to you Mikey, I've known you for 3 days and I don't want you out of my sight." I finished. Michael gives me a sheepish smile as we moved on to what I believe is the living room. Every piece of furniture and sofa had been covered, except for that record player and laid a bottle of whiskey, pills, and a bright red lipstick. That's odd. Michael strides over examining the things on the coffee table.

" This was my grandma's favorite lipstick" he picks up the make-up product handing it to me.

I take it then something weird started happening like I was pulled to a different timeline.

There was an old caucasian woman who had short beehive blonde hair wearing a blue flowy dress dancing as the music was playing in the background, applying red to her lips and swallowing the pills with whiskey. Oh my God. Wait, oh no that's...that's Michael's grandmother.

Third person's P.O.V

Michael's friend stood there like she saw a ghost, shaking. He said her name to get her attention then put both of his hands on his shoulder and shook her lightly to make her snap out of it. Finally she came back to earth.

"(Y/n) are you ok, what happened?" He asked, worried that something triggered her.

"Michael this was my first time seeing the past. Oh my God Mikey I'm sorry" she choked a sob.

"You're grandmother, I believe she killed herself"  

"What?" He gasped. But before they can continue their conversation, someone attacks them from behind covering their mouths with a handkerchief as the two breathed in the smell of chloroform. They finally lose consciousness as their unknown kidnappers drag them up the stairs to the Masters bedroom for now and when morning comes the complicated couple will interrogate the trespassers for breaking into their home.

A/n: uh-oh. Finally here's part 4.

I have 2 questions for you guys

Should I re-edit My fate pt 123?

2. How do I make a master list?

@barbie-solecism

@sodanova

@wvntersldr

@kylolangdon

@theghostoflangdon

@miskwaadesiwag

@whysosadmcfly

@creativedogs

@kaccatus

@goddess-of-inferno

@captainskyline

@gracethegeek9902

@castiel-saved-me-from-myself

@amortentiaxo

@langdonsdemon

@poisedphantom

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme

If you like to be tagged please let me know and if you change your user name and I only have your old one please let me know as well.

[bobasheebaby]

Down Will Come Baby- When Fairytales Break chapter 8

Pairing: Liam x MC; Bastien x MC

Word count: 2,267

Warnings: angst, talks of abortion

Summary: Liam awaits information and Bastien comforts Everly. 

A/N: This might be a tad confusing, lots to address and jumping around. As always if Everly is present it will be her POV. Thanks to @stopforamoment for talking this out with me and giving me the courage to go to this place.

Series warnings: dark, depression, feeling of being trapped, past cheating, cheating, may go NSFW. By asking to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age and can handle the content. 

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from my taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, I’m borrowing them. 

Liam sat at his desk, flipping through the medical records searching for any clue that might point him to who Everly had tested. He racked his brain for anyone that showed even the slightest bit of interest in her that he may have missed before, only to continually come up empty. He needed to know who was the father of the child that was supposed to be his heir. He felt like he’d been played a fool by her, how could she?! It was as if he’d blocked out all parts of the conversation where she told him she had tried to speak to him about not wanting this life, in his mind it was he the one who had been wronged. A tentative tap came on his door. “Come in.” He called out, not looking up from the documents, anxious for one visitor only. 

“Uh—sir, I ummm have that information you asked for.” The nervous voice made him look up.

“Ah, yes.” Liam sat back in his chair folding his hands over his chest. “You followed her?”

“Y—yes sir.” 

“Where did she go?”

The guard nervously shifted from one foot to the other. “Mister Lykel’s room sir.” 

“Did she say anything?” He tensed, anger filling his veins, his head guard? 

“I couldn’t get close enough to hear them sir.” The guard swallowed nervously, he was going against his boss. “But she was very upset, and he seemed very worried.” 

“So it was Bastien and I just left them together, I’m sure they were very happy about that.” He said more to himself as he shook his head. “I need you to find out anything you can about their…. relationship.” The last word spat from his mouth like bile.

“Sir?” The guard swallowed thickly.

“Is there a problem?” His eyebrow raised in question. 

“It’s just, he’s the head guard—”

“And I’m the king, and I’m ordering you to look into Bastien Lykel’s relationship with Queen Everly.”

“Y—yes sir.”

“I expect frequent updates.” Liam turned back to his desk, his jaw clenching in anger. “You may go now.” He dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand.

“O—of course sir.” The guard bowed and quickly shuffled from the room.

Liam leaned forward, palms pressing against the desktop, his head guard, he never would have expected him. How could he have been so blind, they had been able to hide a complete relationship from him. He began to question every interaction between the two, every moment he had with her since she came to Cordonia. How long? Did it really end or did she just say that to appease me?  The timing added up, things could have ended before they were married, he needed to know everything about their relationship, he needed to find a way to save his own name.

***

“Evie, it’s alright, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you and our little bird.” Bastien said holding her in a comforting embrace, seated on his bed. Our little bird, the word made his heart swell with love and pride. 

Everly nodded sniffling, her sobs only recently subsiding. Her tear filled eyes raised to meet his. “I’m sorry.”

“Why Evie?” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“He found out, it’s all my fault.” She shook her head. “If I had just waited.”

“Evie, stop, it’s not your fault. He would have found out no matter what.”

“But—”

“But nothing, I promised you that I’d get you free and I meant it.”

“How?”

Bastien paused in thought, Everly’s heart raced with fear at his hesitation. “I’m not entirely sure yet Evie, but I promise, I will get you free.” He pressed a gently kiss to her temple. 

Everly looked down, growing quite. “What’s wrong Evie?” Bastien took her hand, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles. 

She drew her eyes upwards, grass green shining with fresh tears. “He’s going to know it’s you.” Her voice barely above a whisper. As much as she feared the idea of being confined to this life for the rest of hers, she dreaded Bastien being punished, his name being drug through the mud more than her own captivity. Whatever come to her she could handle but she couldn’t bear to see him lose everything simply because he loved her. 

Bastien sighed softly, he didn’t want to worry her more. “I’m sure he already knows.”

“How?” She sat up, her eyes wide with fear. 

“If he’s anything like his father he would have sent someone to follow you.”

Everly’s throat tightened, everything was exposed, and she was the only one to blame. Her need to know now allowed Liam to gain the knowledge that her little bird wasn’t his, her pain at the thought of losing Bastien lead Liam directly to him. Everything she needed was in this room, but now thanks to her their happiness would surely be threatened. My journal! She racked her brain, trying to remember if she put it away, she could only imagine Liam’s reaction if he were to find and read it. She let out a slow steady breath as she remembered that she put back in her drawer before heading to see Liam. She was thankful in that moment that she had noticed it sitting out in the living room. “I’m so sorry Bas.”

“Evie, you did nothing wrong. You were upset and worried and I’m glad you came to me.” His phone vibrated in pocket. He pulled it out, his body tensing as he read the text.

“What is it?” 

“It’s Liam, he wants to see me… now.”

Oh god! He knows! “I’m coming with you.” 

“Evie, I promise everything will be alright. Just stay here please.”

She couldn’t lose him, maybe if she was there she could finally convince Liam of what she had tried to explain since the second week of the social season. “Bas—”

Bastien stood, he turned, taking both her hands in his own. “Evie, we aren’t even sure that’s why he wants to see me.” She nodded softly, and he knew she wasn’t buying it. “I love you.” He kissed her forehead. “I will come back.” He placed a lingering kiss to her lips before heading out the door. 

Everly watched him with tearfilled eyes, and fear in her heart. Please be right that it has nothing to do with us. She reached for his pillow, clutching it to her chest, she took a deep breath in allowing his scent to calm her. Oh little bird I hope we can gain our freedom. 

***

Bastien sat across from Liam, his face calm showing no emotion as his heart hammered in his chest. He had his suspicions as to why Liam requested to see him, but he refused to show his nerves. He would not show his hand, he needed to help free her from her cage, to achieve it he needed to remain calm. 

“So I hear you and Queen Everly enjoyed your time together when I was away working.”

We both know you weren’t really working or you would have checked on her. “Sir?” Bastien asked, his body tensing imperceptibly. 

Liam stood, walking to look out the window at his mother’s gardens. “I came home early because I received interesting results from Everly’s stay at the hospital.” He paused seemingly in thought. “To say that I was surprised that she had our child’s paternity tested would be an understatement….I was even more surprised to find out that the child she carries is not my heir as it should be.”

Bastien’s jaw clenched, even having been told by Evie about the invasion of her privacy, hearing it from Liam made his blood boil. “What does that have to do with me sir?” He wouldn’t give him more than necessary, if he didn’t know he wouldn’t be the one to tell him, not yet. 

Liam let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “You can drop the act Bastien, I’m aware the child she carries is yours.”

Bastien stayed silent unsure how to respond. How does one acknowledge a relationship with the woman you’re meant to be protecting?

“How long?” Liam questioned turning from the window. “How long has your relationship been going on under my nose?”

Bastien had to bite back the bitter laugh threatening to cross his lips. They had every intention of revealing their relationship at the end of the social season, they would have had Liam not chosen her and forced her into the life that broke her spirit, tore her down until he could barely recognize the woman who captured his heart. “We didn’t hide it.” Bastien ignored Liam’s forced laugh. “Everly pulled back from the social season early on, we started seeing each other during the first weeks. She hated the spectacle’s, she hid in your mother’s gardens. I happened upon her by accident, I listened to her, we grew closer. She would have dropped from the social season but she didn’t want to embarrass you… We were going to reveal our relationship at the end of the social season, except you picked her. She tried on multiple occasions to explain to you, Regina, your father, anyone that she wasn’t cut out to be Queen but everyone brushed it off as jitters or cold feet.” Bastien paused, unsure how much to share. Should he tell Liam that Everly all but begged him to run away with her? He cleared his throat. “We ended it the night before she married you and became Queen.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed, his hand flexing, as his jaw clenched, of course he would try to put this on me! “That does not explain the past two weeks. If things truly ended—”

“Until you left her in my care while you went off to work, I had kept my distance. I intended to keep her at arms length, and then she needed to be rushed to the hospital, you barely checked on her.” He paused, Liam’s eyes flashing with anger. “Evie told me then that she may be mine.” Liam’s eyebrow raised, Bastien realized then that Liam had no idea that Everly was carrying a girl. He fought the urge to jump from his seat and deck him, this man cared so little for her or her child, he barely paid her attention after forcing her into a marriage she never wanted. “She was so alone and broken, I barely recognized her anymore, something in me broke, it was after she was released that we reconnected.”

Liam gave a curt nod, turning back towards the window. “Well that doesn’t matter, the relationship ends for good now.”

“Excuse me?” Surely he misheard. 

“The relationship. ends. now. If Everly and I are to move forward then you can no longer be involved with her. Of course first we will have to fix the mistake you two made.

Bastien felt like the anger may consume him, there was no way that Liam truly believed that Everly would stay in this unwanted marriage. Handle the mistake? Was he proposing what he thought? “Surely taking care of it wouldn’t be in the best interest of the crown, if word got out—”

Liam spun back around. “If word got out she was having another man’s child it would be far worse.”  He crossed back to his desk. “There is only one way out of this mess, and that’s to handle the unwanted child.” 

Unwanted? Bastien’s eyes hardened, Liam couldn’t be further from the truth if he tried. “And how would you possibly explain aborting, killing the child.” Maybe if he called it what it was it would bring Liam some sense of how horrible what he was suggesting truly was. 

“Early labor, unable to be helped, the loss devastating.” The words, the lies rolled easily off of Liam’s tongue. “She’s already been hospitalized for cramping, it’s easy enough to frame in a favorable light.”

Bastien’s hands curled around the armrests of the chair, his grip so tight his knuckles whitened. “Evie would never agree, I would never agree!”

“You don't get a say.”

“I’m the father!” It took everything in him to remain seated and not commit treason on the spot. 

“And I’m her husband.” Liam growled, his palms coming down heavily on the desktop. “She will get rid of the child, for the stability of the country.”

Bastien’s blood boiled in his veins so hot he was sure he was smoking from his ears. “Everly doesn’t care about the country, she never wanted to be Queen! She loves this child and she would never get rid of it.” I refuse to give you the chance to! He pushing up from the chair so quickly, the force knocked the chair backwards. 

“Well she is Queen and it’s her duty to serve Cordonia. You of all people should understand that.” His patronizing smirk lacked all warmth. 

The force of Liam’s words left him winded, he needed to free her no matter what it took. He’d known what it would take, now he saw he had no choice. He saw there was no reasoning with Liam, not in that moment, he needed to regroup and make sure he had exactly what he needed to ensure Everly’s freedom once more. He moved swiftly towards the door, his pulse thundering in his ears. He yanked the door open, slamming it hard enough to shake the frame behind him. He wouldn’t allow her to be caged any longer, he wouldn’t allow their little bird, their child to become collateral damage. 

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment or reblog to let me know how much you like it. I can handle the screams, so scream away. 

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

[sephirotha]

What about a modern fairy tale with Jumin? Let's say Jumin falls very ill with fever and is found in the floor by his maid who he doesn't know? (At one point he mentions he doesn't meet his maids for the possibility of them being taken by his father) She takes good care of him and romance is ensure~ thanks!! I love your writing!

Heiran started her week as normal.  She got up, fed her cats, took her little brother to school then went to work.  She always made sure to call on Jumin Han’s penthouse second, since the scent of her own cats would have gone during the cleaning of the first penthouse.  As beautiful and elegant as she was, Elizabeth was very territorial.

However, today was a little different.

Yes, she was able to get into his penthouse without a fuss, the security guardsgreeting her with kind smiles and asking how her day had been…

…but she didn’t expect to see the Director himself lying in the middle of his expensive, plush, white rug with red cheeks and his suit half done.  Elizabeth sat beside him, pawing at his face and meowing insistently.

“Mr. Han?!”

Heiran covered her mouth and rushed to his side, shoving him a little inelegantly onto his back.  Jumin barely stirred as she pressed a hand to his forehead.  She turned to the open door as the guards looked in after her shout.

“C-Call a doctor!”

—

Heiran decided she’d become a maid because she was one of those people who would clean when they’d get stressed.  Today, she had set a personal record in cleaning Jumin’s penthouse, even made sure Elizabeth had her breakfast.  Though the cat didn’t want to eat, anxious to see her master who was in bed with the doctor and his assistant.

The white cat pawed at the door, meowing with a rather demanding tone.  Hei-Ran put away the last wine glass in the cupboard and clicked her tongue.

“He’ll be alright, Elizabeth,” she said soothingly.

“Mrow!”

Heiran sighed as she picked Elizabeth up and snuggled her.  Elizabeth didn’t react, just looked up at the door with pleading blue eyes.  Heiran rocked her like a little baby, kissing her ear gently.

They perked up when the door swung open and the doctor and Jaehee stared at them.  Heiran tensed and placed Elizabeth down, adjusting her uniform.

“How is he?” she asked as Elizabeth dashed between them to get into Jumin’s room.

“He has the flu,” Jaehee muttered to herself as the doctor excused himself and left the penthouse.  “He’ll need caring for, but I don’t have the time and…”

She adjusted her glasses with an aggravated sigh.

Heiran tilted her head, tapping her chin.

“I can check up on him,” she suggested.  “I can reschedule my other appointments, I’m very flexible believe it or not.”

Jaehee widened her eyes.  “Oh, I couldn’t…!”

“It’ll be fine.  It’s only for a few days, right?  I come here five times a week anyway, so it won’t be too taxing.”  As she spoke, she took out her phone.  “Yeah, my next appointment is in three hours, so I can stay for a while.”

Jaehee looked thoughtful.  “…Very well.  I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Heiran smiled.  “It’s nothing.”

—

Jumin was a little delirious during the first day.

Heiran wanted to giggle as he refused to eat the soup the chefs had prepared for him.

“This…isn’t how my mother makes it…”

Heiran’s cheeks were red as she held back her laughter.

He was just like her little brother.

Speaking of, she hoped her neighbour was able to collect him from school then feed the cats.

Ah well, she’ll find out later.

—

The second day, she was subjected to head pats as she tidied his room up.

“Elizabeth…you’re all dark,” he mumbled as Heiran tried time again to pull away from him.  “Have you gone outside?  Where is your beautiful white fur?”

“Mrow.”

Elizabeth soon jumped onto the bed and headbutted Heiran away, firmly planting herself in her master’s lap.  Heiran laughed at the possessive glare her blue eyes held.

—

The third day, Jumin seemed to have gained some lucidity.  Heiran was relieved to see him sitting upright when she came in with breakfast.

“Good morning, Mr. Han,” she said with a bow.  “How are you today?”

Jumin looked at her curiously as she set the tray down before him.

“Ah, you must be the maid,” he said as she handed him the morning newspaper.  “Thank you. I must compensate you for your time and effort.”

“It’s fine, really,” Heiran said as she waved a hand dismissively.  “You gave Elizabeth and I quite the scare when we saw you had collapsed.”

“Mrow,” Elizabeth mewed, as if agreeing with her.

Heiran scratched her ears and smiled at Jumin.

“I’m glad you’re feeling a little better,” she said as Jumin ate the full English she had prepared for him.  “I’ll be back to clean your room later.”

She bowed again before leaving the room.

—

Thankfully, Jumin was better by the fifth day.

Heiran arrived back at home after being dismissed as his temporary carer.  She smiled tiredly as her little brother and the cats greeted her.

“Oh!  This came through to you!”

Heiran looked at the envelope that her little brother presented to her.  As she examined it, she began wondering who would bother using snail mail in this day and age.

She widened her eyes as she read the letter.

An invitation…to an RFA party?!

There was some writing scrawled at the bottom.

P.S. do not worry about attire, I shall purchase a dress for you.

Director Han

“…Huh…”

[imagines-joesugg]

Imagines Joe Sugg || Why? ||

peachymaynard said: 

Could you do a joe imagine where the reader is his girlfriend. It the fans give her hate even though she's a really nice person and she breaks one day and joe comforts her?

- - -

While early morning, it was still very hot and sunny over Orlando, you stood back in the shade of the hotel roof by some neatly trimmed shrubs while Joe took pictures and laughed with some of his viewers who were out and about bright and early.

You just stood quietly by yourself, your fingers laced together against your front, as you looked around the cloudless blue sky, trying to avoid the glares and glances from people who, while you weren't sure why, disliked you very much.

Feeling the warm breeze blowing through your (length / colour) hair, and against the flowing, below the knee, pastel purple sundress you wore, (feel free to change it) which matched your toe and finger nails you'd gotten done with Zoe and Louise before PlayList. You finally looked over at Joe, even while you felt so very out of place you couldn't help but smile seeing him smiling, laughing and, having a lovely time.

“Ew.” You heard someone say lowly as they walked by with their friend, looking in your direction and laughing, you looked away, trying to ignore it. It wasn't anything new, you'd become use to expecting mean comments on videos, and in public... You just weren't sure what you had done to make such a massive group of people dislike you.

“Hey babe.” Joe said catching your attention as the small gathering of people cleared, you looked at him and smiled a little. “Hey.” You said, “you okay?” He asked, he knew, he knew for whatever reason viewers didn't like you and, the only reason he could think of was because you were dating him. He'd addressed it several times in comments and on Twitter, but it never stopped...

“Fine. Headache...” You lied a little with a nod, taking his out stretched out with yours and you started walking back into the hotel.

“We were up late last night.” Joe tried to reason with why you might have a headache. “Maybe you been a lay down, I don't want you to miss my panel.” He kissed your cheek, as you waited for the elevator to open.

“I don't think I'm wanted at your panel.” You admitted, it was getting to you, it had already gotten to you but at home in London you could ignore comments on videos and Twitter... Here, here was a sea of people you'd never even met and they automatically seemed to dislike you passionately.

“I want you at my panel.” Joe said squeezing your hand assuringly, you half smiled while you looked at him and nodded. “I love you.” Joe said still squeezing your hand, as you got off the elevator to the floor you were staying. “I love you, too.” You whispered, with all your heart you loved him, so very much. You just weren't sure how much more you could take...

... Inside your room, you sat up in bed, hearing the blow drier running while Joe got ready for his panel. You stared at your reflection in the blackness of his MacBook screen, having good intentions to find something on Netflix you never got around to it, you just stared at yourself and you tried not to cry.

Closing the computer you sat it beside you on the covers and you curled over onto your side, your head resting on the pillow, watching the leaves of the palm trees dancing around with the outside breeze from the balcony.

“How do I look? Oh... Are you asleep?” Joe's voice was soft, his footsteps stopping near the edge of the bed and you shook your head, “no.” You answered him and moved a little to look over, seeing him in new black jeans without any rips and a white button down long sleeve shirt with a leather jacket, his hair styled perfectly.

“You look lovely, Joe.” You flashed him a smile and he grinned, fixing the jacket a little he walked around the bed, his hands on the mattress he lent over and kissed you, you kissed him back, feeling his fingers brushing into your hair.

“Are you up for my panel?” He asked as the kiss broke slowly, his lips still brushing against yours, you kept quiet, “please? I want you there...” His fingers leaving your hair, he moved back a little and his palm caressed the side of your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

“Okay.” You nodded, trying to find any mental and physical energy you had hidden away somewhere, seeing Joe smile brightly was enough to get you out of bed, smoothing out your clothes, you put your PlayList lanyard on...

... You stood backstage, watching the British Youtube panel, finding yourself incredibly anxious, you knew no one could see you from where you stood but you still felt like eyes were on you. Moving away from side stage, you sat down on a black leather couch, picking at the nail polish on your pinky, you just wanted to go back to your hotel room.

This entire trip to PlayList was breaking you, “hey, you alright?” A voice made you glance up, seeing Zoe looking flawless, her hair done up wonderfully in a bow with curly pieces around her ears.

“... Yeah.” You brought yourself back to reality, nodding. She looked at you like she didn't believe you, you were a little glad about that. “What's wrong? Has Joe done something?” Her tone kind of changed as she sat down beside you, putting her hand on your knee comfortingly. You shook your head while you spoke; “no, no... Nothing like that.” You promised.

“Is it the viewers?” She asked after a moment and you nodded, your throat getting tight with a painful lump, you didn't want to cry, not backstage. “Oh darling.” Zoe said taking her arms and wrapping them around you from the side, pulling you closer to her. Joe and you had been dating for a long time and Zoe from the beginning accepted you as a sister.

“They hate me...” You whispered, your eyes started glazing with tears. “Don't be silly, you're lovely... You're so lovely.” Zoe assured giving you a squeeze and you started to cry. “I never even wanted to come to PlayList – everyone glares at me, makes rude comments. I don't know what I did!” Your face was buried in Zoe's shoulder while she held you.

“You didn't do anything! You're a nice person... They don't know you like we know you.” Zoe patted your back as you cried, days, months ... Years of emotions were bubbling over inside you and you couldn't stop it.

“Hey... Hey! What's wrong?” Joe said in worry walking off the stage with the guys, seeing the sight. “She's upset Joe!” Zoe said in the darkest of tones you've ever heard Zoe speak. “Your viewers!” She added.

“Oh, oh baby... Baby...” Joe said quickly coming to you, “I'm so sorry, come here.” The weight of the couch shifted on the other side of you and you felt Joe pulling you in tightly away from Zoe, your face pressed into his chest. Your arms wrapped around his middle tightly.

“It's okay... It's okay...” Joe said comfortingly while he rubbed your back slowly in small circles. “I'm sorry... I never thought... I, I just wanted you here with me. Baby I'm so sorry.” He whispered. “Please don't cry honey, it kills me.” He kissed the side of your head lovingly.

“I don't know what I did...” You murmured, sniffing a little as you tried composing yourself enough to get back to your room without looking like a mess. “You didn't do anything.” Joe promised, “you're my lovely, wonderful, perfect girlfriend.” He swore, you looked up at him. He moved his hands, holding your face. Joe brushed the tears straying from your eyes carefully and he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much.” He said.

“I love you, too.” You kind of smiled, nodding as you sniffed again. “Thank you.” You whispered. “You don't have to thank me for telling the truth... You're amazing,” He smiled, he hated seeing you in such a state. “Lets go back to our room, let me cuddle you and tell you bad jokes until I make my girl laugh.” His hands moving from your face to your hands, squeezing them and you nodded...

...

~ Joe's POV ~

Sitting in the desk chair of the hotel, he looked around the empty room, Zoe and Louise had coxed (Y/N) into going for a meal and he was happy about that, he bit the inside of his cheek before he exhaled slowly.

Turning his camera on, he hit record, fixing his hair a little. He wasn't sure what to say. “Hi guys.” He started, it wasn't the same cheery tone he usually held during videos, he kept looking around, “I know this probably isn't what you were expecting for a video, but I have something important to say, and you all need to hear it.”

“You see, you see this beautiful girl here.” Joe held up his phone to the camera, the lock screen a picture of (Y/N) and him outside in a garden, Joe's arms wrapped around her as she held a bunch of brightly coloured tulips. “My perfect, wonderful girlfriend...” He started.

“Who, after a I finished a panel today at PlayList was crying... She was crying because for whatever reason, not all – but a lot of you aren't very nice to her and, I don't know why... I don't know why someone could dislike someone they don't even know so much.” He shook his head.

“I've addressed this before over Twitter and in the comments, but it hasn't stopped. (Y/N) is an amazing person, sweet... Will chase a fly around the apartment just to release it back outside. Would give you the last bit of change in her pocket if you needed it, even if that was her travel money.” He looked away from the camera before looking back.

“I love her, with all my heart and soul – I love her. And I'm not going to lose her because some of you don't like her when you have absolutely no reason not too. She is a person with feelings just like you, just like me... She's a part of my life and I want her to be for a very, very long time... She makes me so happy, encourages all my dreams, inspires me to be the best Joe I can be.” He nodded.

“So, I'm asking you. If you have nothing nice to say, keep it to yourself and maybe you don't belong on this channel... If you can't be nice... There's too much hate in the world right now, we don't have to be adding to it. Don't you think?” He asked.

“All of you who support me, mean so much to me... But (Y/N) also means so much to me. I don't know what I would do without you guys and I don't know what I'd do without her... So, I think it's time to say you're sorry? We're a family, not a ball of hate... What do you say?” He asked, before he reached over and stopped recording.

He didn't do too much editing to the video, before exporting it and uploading it to Youtube. Closing his MacBook, Joe nodded to himself, he felt good it finally addressed what he should have many moons ago in a video.

He stood up, hearing the clicking of the card reader on the door and it opened. Seeing (Y/N) he grinned. “Hey.” He walked up to her and she smiled. “Hey.” She came walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him, kissing him quickly.

“Have a good time?” He wondered, his hands on her sides and she nodded. “It was nice.” She admitted. “What did you do?” She wondered and he just smiled, shaking his head. “Something I should've a long time ago.” He left it at that...

[lovelykiheon]

Monsta X Beautiful Tour Hi-Touch & Photo Op Experience 170721

This story is LONG overdue, I know. BUT, this was one of the best experiences of my life and i’m still suffering from post concert depression 2 months later. Warning: This might come out to be very detailed, but it’s only because I want you all to know how I felt (feel). I’m also going to be brutally honest about some things that i’ve noticed/experienced.

The final stage had ended. I was in awe as I watched the six out of seven men, (Hyungwon was injured) who completely consume my life, waving as they exited off the stage. There was a rumble of conversations throughout the audience as the curtains shut. Boys and girls of all ages, including myself, in the P1 and P2 sections began to pull out their mirrors, compacts and brushes to fix themselves up before receiving further instruction. I fanned myself to rid myself of any sweat droplets on my skin and in my hair. My sister assisted our new friend, that we made in line outside prior to the concert, as she got ready. It was then that over my right shoulder a man began to belt out instructions for us to make a single-filed line and to follow him. This was it. This was the moment that my heart began to race because I was about meet, and even touch, the idols that I admire so much. Before continuing the line stopped before anyone went through the doors the security guard stood in front of. I assumed that the boys were still getting prepared. 

The line began to move once again. I was anxious because aside from meeting them, I wanted to record the hi-touch as well, but I was nervous if security would catch me doing so. I got closer and closer to the door. As soon as I entered the room, there they were. I had to act fast, so I took my chances. I pressed record on my phone and placed it in my front right pants pocket; facing the members. 

My first impression of all the members was that they are all normally sized! I know that when we see pictures of them they either look a bit chubby, way too skinny, very tall/short, some facial features being too big/small, but that was not the case. I’m 5′5″ or 167cm tall and all of them were taller than me! (yes, even kihyun!) I will get more into specifics on each individual.

The first one to greet me was Kihyun. He wasn’t as skinny as he looked in pictures at the time. I’m happy that he’s gaining weight back though. Now, I initially planned on telling Kihyun how beautiful and angelic his voice is, and im sure he hears it all the time, but once I got face to face with the man.. I blanked. He gave me the largest and sweetest smile as he leaned across the table to get closer. I randomly belted out “I love you, Kihyun!”  He responded with a chuckle and “I love you too!” 

I moved onto Wonho. He was also averagely sized, but he was definitely bulky. Somewhat similar to his photos. I understand that they just performed for two hours, so that is probably why he seemed very mellow. I said hello to him and he just gave me a smile in return.

Next was Shownu. Now this man is what I call A MAN. He was quite tall, and exactly what you would expect him to look like in person. I remember his arms to be nice, thick, and long (not strangely long but ya kno a good length). I was so stunned that I also just said “Hi shownu!” He gave me a small smile with a quick bow of his head. I couldn’t help but notice how much power he puts into his high-fives. He caused my lightstick, which was dangling on my right arm (the one i used to touch them), to sway back and forth.

My interaction with Changkyun went by fairly quick. He wasn’t that much taller than me (similar to Kihyun). Now, I know that he always mentions how large his nose is, but personally I didn’t think it was as big as it seemed. It was a good sized nose. I think its just that since his eyes and lips are a bit small, it makes his nose to appear larger. He was so sweet though and told me “thank you so much for coming!”  to which I responded “No, thank you!” 

After him was Jooheon. 

Now let me give you a little back story. in case you didn’t know, LEE JOOHEON IS MY ULT BIAS. I am very soft for Jooheon. I can tear up just by looking at a new photo of him. BUT Jooheon speaking english is also my kink.  

Days before the concert, I decided last minute to create a sign for Jooheon to show him love and support during the concert. The sign I ended up creating was a honey pot with his name on it. At the time I didn’t think it was that big but once I got into the venue, which was pretty small, I realized that i’m definitely going to get noticed. Especially with how close to the stage I was (about 3rd-4th row in the pit). I apologize to those behind me because I was being that annoying fan with a sign slightly larger than a human head. Here’s what it kind of looked like.

I got noticed quite a lot by him. Ugh i’m flustered just thinking about it.

ANYWAYS CONTINUING THE HI TOUCH.

Jooheon was gorgeous. His height compared to me was perfect and he was actually skinnier than they make him seem, but a healthy skinny. 

As soon as I left Changkyun, Jooheon immediately says “I love it!” referring to my sign. Being the emotionally confused person I was (bc soft for him, but english kink at the same time) I quickly nodded and said “thank you! I love you!” I was completely in shock that after those words left my mouth I practically blacked out and I just noticed him point at me with the cutest dimpled smile. 

Last but not least, Minhyuk. I noticed that he was also very tall. He is a total visual/model etc. He looked so amazing. Unfortunately, he seemed the most exhausted. It really hurt me to seem him like this since he’s the most energetic and chipper. This was something I kind of noticed as he was on stage as well. He took my hand and he really looked into my eyes and said “thank you for coming.” I thanked him back of course. 

That was the end of it. 

Although the entire hi-touch experience was literally only 17 seconds long, I noticed a lot, being a detail oriented person.

After leaving the room we were directed upstairs to get back in line for the photo op. Now, remember I recorded this hi-touch, so after I met them I listened back to the video (you can barely see their faces bc bad angle) I listened to every response from every member, but one stood out in particular. I played over a part where I saw Jooheon’s hand point at me. The point where I went blank. It was then that I realized that after I told Jooheon I loved him, He told me “I love you too yeah!” At this point I was on the verge of crying in line, but I knew I had to keep it together for the picture I was going to take. The one picture i’ll probably ever have with Monsta X for the rest of my life.

Moments passed by as we all discussed what we just experienced. Suddenly, one of the employees of powerhouse made his way down the line as he counted each person. Once he arrived to us he said that me, my sister, and our friend are numbers 1, 2, and 3. Meaning we were going to be standing right next to the members in the photo op. We freaked, subtly, since we didn’t want to rub it in to the people in front of us who were going to be no where near the members.

Unfortunately, somewhere during the numbering process, the man either miscounted, or people jumped out of line.The security just before we went to enter to take the photo counted us as 17, 18, and 19. I was livid. I guess that’s what we get for getting our hopes up. I tried to convince the guard that there has to be a mistake because I was told that we’re supposed to be in the next group. Being the stubborn bitch I was, I refused to enter with that number. Another security guard rudely threatened to take us outside if we weren’t going to join that group. I sucked it up and went to take the photo anyway. As I descended down the stairs toward the room so many thoughts ran through my mind. I wasn’t going to risk my chance to take the photo I payed for because I was feeling some type of way.

There were, are, and will be other people in the same position. I thought Hopefully in the future you will get another chance. Suck it up.

the whole situation ruined my mood. I’m sure I looked like a rude bitch once I entered the area. I didn’t want the guys to see me like that so I refreshed my face. I honestly couldn’t even look at them because I knew they would be making heart signs and talking with the other Monbebe. 

They told our row to get on our knees so they could see those in the back. The first photo I didn’t even smile with teeth. All I could do was imagine what was happening behind me. What Jooheon was doing. 

I noticed a lot of staff in front of us. There was the photographer and also a woman with one of those cameras that Monsta X typically use to vlog for MXCH.

“alright everyone smile 1, 2, 3!” said the photographer

*CLICK* the camera and flash shuttered over one another.

I might as well have a nice picture. I thought. I forced the cheesiest smile onto my face. 

The camera flashed again. Photographing yet again the moment I felt the most broken.

I still feel so bitter about it to this day. You guys might think i’m being a bit dramatic (maybe i am lol), but It honestly hurts to even write it. But it’s what happened. (and it’s not only about me, my sister and friend felt very similar emotions, along with many others i’m sure)

Once that was over, we stood up. The staff ran over to block Monbebe from getting any closer and bombarding the members. 

It was at this time that I remembered my letter.

The night before I had written a letter specifically for Jooheon which basically expressed all of my admiration and love for him. 

I tore open my purse to grab the letter. I went over to Jooheon, sliding past each person that was leaving. So much commotion was going on that I could barely hear myself think. 

The staff separating me from Jooheon tried very hard to block me from handing over my letter. Luckily Jooheon noticed and moved his head the opposite way of the staff’s. “Jooheon!” I called out as I stuck out the letter for him to grab. He slipped his arm passed and took it. With yet another cute dimpled smile he said “Thank you!” My starstruck ass said “Bye! I love you!” and headed out before security tried to drag me out.

After exiting the venue I found my sister and friend outside. We discussed once again what we just went through. Overall the security sucked, but the interactions that I received were perfect.

My sister told me that she was going to leave the photo op area, but noticed no one was following her. She turned back and saw that I was so close to Jooheon. Honestly I didn’t even realize how close I was until I thought back to it. 

I still do.

I wish that Hyungwon could have made it to the concert, but his health is more important. I’m glad that he’s having fun on the tour, and that they can all continue and finish up without any injuries.

Despite the negative aspects, this was honestly the best fucking day of my life.

I’m very grateful to have experienced this entire concert and I hope to meet them once again.

Bonus: After going through Hi-Touch I would say that they all have really soft hands, but the two hands that I remember the most are Kihyun’s and Minhyuk’s. Their hands are the softest hands ever!

A/N: I will link my twitter thread here for those of you who wish to watch a few of my videos (including the hi touch)! This thread is more about the actual concert and my experience/interactions.

i’m sorry that this post is kind of a mess, but if you have any questions for me, feel free to ask!!

[sheslostinreality]

“If You Can Wait ‘til I Get Home”

Anon request: angsty imagine based on “If It Means A Lot To You” by ADTR. (Audio | Lyrics)

A/N: This imagine took me four hours to write. It’s a long imagine but I’d read it until the end. It’s worth it. x

You met Ashton over a year ago when 5 Seconds of Summer had finished their last tour for their second album. You met at a mutual friend’s house party. You and Ashton were friends first. You began hanging out and found you had a lot of similarities and were very compatible with one another. You got to know Ashton as this super fun, adventurous guy who was ready for anything. He was always in high spirits and full of energy. Whenever you needed a listening ear and someone to vent to, Ashton became your guy. You could count on him to cheer you up. He never failed show you support and give encouragement. Amongst his many wonderful qualities, one you especially loved was that he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t to be accepted or like— especially around you. He was genuine.

This would always a constant debate between you and Ashton but the truth was: you fell for Ashton first. Granted, he was always interested in you. From the moment he saw you, he thought you were beautiful. He wanted to get to know you. But you developed real feelings first. It took Ashton a little longer because record would have it: he couldn’t fall for just anyone. He had been burned too many times— coming across people who were just using him. Nevertheless, when Ashton knew you were in it for him— not for his money or what he could give you— he gave his whole heart to you. “It’s game over man,” Luke chuckled after Ashton told him, Michael, and Calum he had fallen for you. “You’re done, lover boy,” Calum joked. It proved to be true. Ashton was head over heels. He’d give you all the stars in the sky if he could. He was madly in love with you and everything about you. He never wanted to let you go. After six months of dating, you moved in together in a nice condominium in Hollywood Hills. That was only step 2 of Ashton’s plan.

5 Seconds of Summer had released their third album. You were incredibly stoked for your boyfriend and his band. The four of them had worked so hard composing new songs for everyone to hear. The album release party had been a blast— all of their friends, their families, and individuals who helped put the album together attended. But after the party was when reality began to hit.

The boys had back-to-back meetings to attend to on top of shows and making appearances in promotions of their new album. You were seeing less and less of your boyfriend. Ashton was already out of the house when you woke up in the morning. By the time he arrived home, he was beyond exhausted. “Babe, would it be alright if I went to bed?” Ashton asked after scarfing down the dinner you prepared. You sighed disappointedly but you weren’t going to be selfish. You saw the tired in his eyes. “Sure, I’ll clean up,” you said.

This was scary territory for your relationship.

Watching Ashton leave never ceased to be painful and heartbreaking. It wasn’t like you and Ashton never spent time away from each other. He’d left before for small business trips or trips back home to Australia for two weeks or so. It was that no matter how many times you’ve watched Ashton leave, it just never got easier.

The tour for album three was in two weeks. Ashton leaving for four months to tour all of Europe with his band. You had pleaded to your boss for at least a week off. You tried to reason and bargain but she didn’t budge. There was a big company project taking place and she wanted you present and in action.

“Your boss is a bitch,” Ashton grumbled, throwing shoes into his luggage only for it to bounce off and roll away.

You took his shoes and placed them neatly back into the suitcase. “Well, on the bright side, we won’t need to ask someone to look after our home,” you tried to sound positive.

“I’d rather be burglarized then go four months without seeing you,” Ashton responded.

“Don’t say that,” you tried to laugh. “I’m really upset about it, too, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t quit. I’ve worked so hard for my position in that company. It’s not worth it…”

Ashton sighed, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace. He rested his chin on the top of your head, your nose to his chest, smelling the intoxicating scent of his cologne. “I already miss you,” he said, his hazel green eyes looking into yours.

You forced a painful smile and quickly wiped the tear that escaped the corner of your eye. Ashton frowned, seeing your eyes weld up with water and your lips beginning to quiver. You bit your lip and managed to let out a small laugh. “Let’s just enjoy tonight, alright?” you suggested. “We have all of tomorrow to be sad.”

Ashton nodded. He bowed his neck to place a kiss on your lips. You tiptoed and locked your arms around his neck. He lifted you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Ashton shut the bedroom door closed on your way over to the bed. He lowered your back onto the bed. He was smiling, admiring your beauty. “One for the road?” he asked suggestively with a smirk on his face.

Tomorrow came all to quickly. The alarm was set for 4 AM. You and Ashton both groaned at the annoying sound of the beeping. Neither of you wanted to leave the bed. You were so comfortable under the sheets and in each others arms.

“Hey,” Ashton whispered, his voice still groggy and sleepy. He placed small kisses on your neck.

You turned over to face him. “Hey,” you said smiling.

“I want to tell you something,” he said.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I love you.”

You giggled, “I know that already. I love you, too.”

“No,” Ashton said more seriously this time. “I mean it, [Y/N]. I really, really love you.”

“And I really, really love you, too, Ashton,” you responded.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said.

You paused for a minute. Ashton’s expression was serious. This wasn’t just pillow talk. This wasn’t just his emotions speaking or him being sappy. This was real. Ashton was being real.

“I’m not proposing,” Ashton added. “Not yet, anyway. I just—I just wanted you to know that I will. I’m in it for the long run, [Y/N]. Are you?”

You couldn’t help but smile. You nodded and gave Ashton a kiss on the lips. Your relationship was one for the books. It was the kind of relationship everyone wanted. Everyone dreams of marrying their best friend one day. Everyone wishes to spend their life with someone that brings them love, happiness, and sense of stability. It’s the kind of relationship where even the length of time cannot make each day feel like a new adventure. No one wants to stop falling in love. That’s what you and Ashton had. Your relationship was built on a foundation so strong and unbreakable, not even distance could pull you apart.

Or so you thought.

“Do you have everything?” you asked him. He counted the four large suitcases lined up against the wall, tapped duffle bag on his shoulder and the backpack on his back; he felt the hat on his head and the wallet in his back pocket. He wiggled his glasses and raised the passport in his hand.

“Got it,” he assured you.

“Phone?”

He tapped his front pocket. “Charger and everything,” he joked.

You let out a small smile, the feeling of sadness over taking you. This was all too familiar. “I’ll miss you. It’s selfish but I don’t want you to go,” you told him.

He nodded understandingly. “I know, baby. I wish I could bring you with me. But I swear, it will be worth it when I come back,” he promised. “Please wait for me.”

“I will.”

Ashton placed one last kiss on your lips before he headed out the door. The chauffeur assisted Ashton with his suitcases. Ashton rolled down the tinted window of the Mercedes Benz and waved goodbye as they drove away.

The condo never felt lonelier, emptier, and quieter. It was only Ashton and you who lived there but the two of you together brought life, laughter, happiness and energy into the your home. There was never a dull moment. There was always singing, music, and dancing. But with Ashton gone, you didn’t feel like dancing alone.

The two weeks was the hardest and the loneliest. Even at work, coworkers were growing concerned. Your boss didn’t even look twice at you. All she cared about was the company project. You had friends who were calling you to set up plans to keep your mind off of Ashton. They knew how hard it must have been for you. However, no amount of distractions during the day could relieve you from the empty, cold bed you’d be coming home to that night.

You and Ashton had remained in constant communication the first two weeks. You were either texting, calling or FaceTiming. If you were at work, you’d receive “business emails” from Ashton. But as the weeks progressed, Ashton grew busier and the communication lessened until there was almost none. Your phone was unbothered as ever. You tried your hardest not to bother Ashton but some days you couldn’t help but call. Often you were left to go to voicemail. Ashton would call you back but you’d be asleep and miss it. It was getting more and more difficult, more and more unbearable.

Some nights you’d think: “is this what my future is going to be like? waiting on Ashton? always anxious for the next time he’ll leave me? We live different lives sometimes.”

Two more weeks was left on the calendar. You were more excited than you had ever been. The band was getting a week off before beginning the next set of tours.

“Finally I caught you!” you smiled to the camera as you mixed the vegetables in the pan.

Ashton chuckled, “Likewise. Seem like we’re always missin’ each other.”

“It’s been hard,” you said honestly. “I’ve been really sad.”

“We’ll make it, baby,” Ashton assured you. “We can’t let distance get to us.”

Sometimes, it seemed it was easier on Ashton than on you being separated. Of course, Ashton was always the one leaving. Perhaps it was because he was more occupied. He was touring, meeting new people, performing shows. He had a lot going on. But for you— it was the same nine-to-five, five days a week job. Same desk, same computer, same routine. Ashton was traveling the world while you were confined to the four walls of your office. Ashton came home to different, lavish hotel suites while you came home to an empty house that made it impossible to forget about Ashton. It would irk you when Ashton acted so nonchalant about the pain it caused you when he was away. It was bothersome when he’d be so naive about how hard it was for you.

“Easy for you to say,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I said ‘easy for you to say,’” you repeated more clearly.

“What are you talking about?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s easy for you to say ‘don’t worry, babe, we’ll make it’ because you don’t miss me as much as I miss you. Trying being the one getting left behind for once.”

“Babe, I—“ Ashton’s eyes shifted away from the camera. You heard another voice talking. Ashton nodded to the voice behind the camera and sighed. “Babe, I’m really sorry, I have to go.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Exasperation was taking over you. “Of course you do.”

Ashton looked apologetic. “Look, I’ll call you later, alright? I love you.”

He never called.

You masked your sadness by pretending to have a lack of. You thought you could fool yourself if you pretended to be unbothered. You fought against the sadness. You told yourself you wouldn’t be upset with Ashton for being too busy answer calls or respond to text messages. You tried not to miss him anymore because he didn’t miss you. If he missed me like he said he did, he’d try, you told yourself. What fueled your anger were the paparazzi photos of Ashton and the other boys leaving the club in the early mornings. If he had time for clubbing, he should have had a few minutes for you. The four months apart were doing a lot more damage to your relationship than you initially thought it would.

Ring ring.

Three days were left until Ashton was set to come home.

You swiped the screen open. “Look who decided to call,” you said with a slightly crossed tone.

“They extended the tour,” Ashton blurted out.

“They what?”

“They extended the tour to another month.”

You laughed, “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He didn’t. He wasn’t. “Leave work. Come see me.”

“I can’t, Ashton,” you sternly. “Our project is launching next month. I have to be here.”

“It’s always work,” Ashton complained.

Your eyes grew wide. “Excuse me?”

This conversation wasn’t nearly as sweet, as loving, or as kind as the ones held prior. You and Ashton only fought and bickered. It went from Ashton blaming your work, to you feeling your were the only one making sacrifices, to Ashton not caring enough about the distance put between you. It was a mess.

“You think I don’t care?” Ashton asked rhetorically. “Are you that narrow minded?”

“I’m being narrow minded? Trying being the one always left behind, Ashton!”

“It’s not my fault” he said defensively.

“So you’re saying it’s my fault?”

Ashton sighed, slowly beginning to feel defeat. “No—no! That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No, that’s exactly what you’re saying! And you know what hurts? Waiting by the phone every day for a call that never comes.”

“Babe, I told you I was busy.”

You scoffed, “Right. Busy. But you still had time to go clubbing.” Ashton fell silent. “Yeah, I saw the photos.”

There was a silence in the line. Then you said words you never thought you’d say.

“Ashton, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You had enough.

It was foolish to think a year of being together would make the two of you invincible to the effects of distance. You had tried your hardest to hold on, to wait, to not give up on your relationship. But you felt the strain. You couldn’t bear another heartache of watching Ashton leave. You couldn’t cope any longer with the anxiety of being apart. You felt left in the dark while Ashton was well in the spotlight. All you wanted was to feel him again, to be near him again. You needed his presence and he couldn’t give you that.

“Babe— what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” you said lowly, “I think we need to break up. I can’t wait for you anymore, Ashton.”

“What? Why not?”

You felt your throat tighten. “It hurts too much. I don’t expect you to know the feeling. But imagine it hurts like hell. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be worried anymore. I’m tired of waiting. I’m done being left behind.”

“But I’m coming home, baby! Just one more month.”

You sighed, “For how long? A week? A few days? Then you’re gone again for God knows how long again. I’m not the girl for you, Ashton. You need someone with a flexible career. Someone who can drop everything and be with you. Someone who can wait for you. I can’t do that; and I hate long distance. But this is your job and I won’t ask you to give it up— not that you would.”

“So it’s your or my job?” he asked in disbelief.

“No,” you told him. It’s just your job.”

“This is a fucking joke, [Y/N]. I can’t believe you’re talking like this. Don’t do this.” His voice was breaking. “Don’t we mean anything to you?”

“You mean everything to me, Ashton.”

“Then why can’t you wait until I get home? We can make it, [Y/N].”

“No, Ashton. I’m done waiting. I’m sorry,” you said. “Look, you can keep the condo— you’ll need a place to stay when the tour’s over. I’ll be moved out before you get back.”

“Can we at least be friends?” he asked.

You shook your head to yourself. “Nobody’s friends with their exes. Maybe in the future. But right now, I think I need to be alone. Goodbye, Ashton.”

At that, you hung up. You couldn’t bear to hear his voice again. You clutched your phone to your chest, and slid your back down the bathroom wall of the office. A river of tears spilled from your eyes. You felt your heart break into a million pieces. You couldn’t breathe. You let go of the one who became your world. You set free the one who made you smile on your worst days, your sunlight, your breath of fresh air. Because the one who made you so happy… also made you so sad.

You weren’t sure if what you did was the right thing to do. You were so caught in your emotions, in all of your anxiety and sadness. You were just so tired of hurting and waiting. It was an understandable feeling and anyone on the outside would’ve seen it coming. They’d say, “We knew it’d happen eventually.”

On the other side of the world was a devastated, heartbroken Ashton— a guy who lost the love of his life. He saw his future shatter before him. All his hopes and plans evaporate into thin air. The girl he thought he would spend the rest of his life with gave up on him. He couldn’t give her what she needed. Distance was too strong. His job was too demanding. What he thought was meant to be turned out to be false. Without you, he’d never be happy again.

“Oh man,” Luke said when he walked into the room and spotted a crying Ashton. “What the hell happened?”

“[Y/N] broke up with me,” he cried.

“Shit,” Luke rushed to his best friend’s side. “Man, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll never be happen again,” Ashton sobbed. “I loved her. She was everything.”

Luke stayed quiet. He was at a loss for words. He thought you and Ashton were going to get married one day. He looked up to Ashton for maintaining a stable, healthy relationship. He praised Ashton for finding the love of his life and holding on to her. Luke wanted what he saw in you and Ashton.

“I was going to propose to her,” Ashton tossed the little velvet box into the table he was holding during your phone call.

Luke reached for the box and opened it. He found the engagement. “This is what you were looking at the other day, wasn’t it?” Ashton was visiting jewelry stores all around Europe in search of the perfect engagement ring under the radar. There had been time you called but he was looking at rings so he purposely ignored your call.

The ring was beautiful. Ashton had purchased the ring in Italy. It was worth a fortune. It was a large square-cut diamond with a diamond band. It was his surprise for when he returned home.

He was going to make you his wife.

[iamthebeth]

I’m writing this to have a record of my feelings. Our memories fade and are imperfect, but i don’t want to forget the events of the past couple weeks, even if they’re painful. 

I’ve noticed that I can be really bad at empathy, and maybe having a record of my emotions from the past week will help. Warning, it’s very long. (The equivalent of 6 single spaced pages.) Also, it involves people dying. 

March 28

I got a text while I was at work saying Hayley’s not doing well. We’re told to pray for a miracle. I feel choked up, but I keep a stiff upper lip and continue working. I tell my mom when I go home for a break between shifts. I’ve known that Hayley had health issues, but was never sure the specifics. We go on social media to find more. I go back to work with my phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode so that I can’t even feel the incoming texts. I show my mom the texts with details when I get home. She says she's sorry. With her words, a wave of emotions crash over me. I’m choked up but I don’t cry.

March 29

Momma texts us that Hayley isn’t suffering anymore. She passed away just a couple hours after we got the text the day before. I’m at work again, and maintain my stiff upper lip. After work I go visit my baby nephew. It cheers me up. I do not cry.

April 2

I pull up to Chick-fil-A and see Katie walking towards the restaurant with her kids, as well as the younger half of her siblings. I didn’t realize they would also be here, but I don’t mind. I go in and see that her in-laws are also here. Also a welcome surprise. As I set my stuff down, I hear Bob telling someone what a difficult year it’s been. I agree with him and Ellen asks if I am going to Hayley’s service on Saturday. I say, “Yeah, my old bible study was actually planning on going to a women’s conference at Amo’s church this weekend, so we’re all leaving early to drive to Hayley’s service together.” She’s glad to hear this. I go to the bathroom. When I come out she’s talking to someone else. I hope I get a chance to talk to her later. I want to ask how her health has been. 

April 4 6:41pm

We were standing around the kitchen island before our first circle group meeting when Corrina got an email. “EMTs are at the house right now, Bob is afraid that Ellen won’t make it.” They thought he was being dramatic but I had my doubts.

April 4 6:43pm

Momma sent a text to our group. “Pray for Ellen. She went down for a nap an hour ago and is not waking up. She’s had deadly high blood pressure for days and keeps going to the emergency room. Pray for her. Spread the word now. Pray right now.” This made us pay attention. We prayed. A thought crossed my mind, "What if she doesn't make it?" But i quickly dismissed it. I texted my family and sent my brother a message. (I knew he would be upset to not find out about this, no matter the outcome.) I finished eating my dinner, and we started our circle.

April 4 7:42pm

My mom texts me and my sister, asking if Brett was there. My sister texted no.

April 4 7:42pm

Our mom sent a forwarded message to us. My sister reads it to the group. I hadn’t even heard my phone buzz. Ellen had passed away. I sat there and stared at a spot on the wall. I could feel my eyes starting to water. Philip says we should pray. We bow our heads. I push Titus off the couch so he doesn’t bite me. Philip prays and I start to cry. Corrina calls Abby. She’s at their house. Corrina leaves to join her.

April 4 8:00pm

I text my old Bible study. I accidentally only texted a couple of them because we had two different groups going at the time.

April 4 8:05pm

 I text Cassie. I inform her of the text I received an hour ago and just now.

My sister asks if I told another one of our friends. I tell her who I’ve told and that I can't tell anyone else. My mind is mush. It took so much effort to send those texts. To spread the information I wanted everyone to know, but wanted to tell no-one. I was starting to numb, but still had tears in my eyes. My nose was clogged from a combination of my allergies and my tears.

At some point of us sitting there. Carissa asks if we want anything. She lists off some foods she has available or can quickly make. I decline but start to laugh a little. It reminds me of the example my roommates used of my bad comforting skills.

April 4 8:30pm

“We should get going. I still have to go to work in the morning.” We gather our things, grab a couple cookies for the road, and leave. I can feel a lump in my throat as I drive, I can feel the tears welling up, but I have to get home before I can cry. It’s only a couple miles. 

I get home and put my dirty dishes from dinner in the dishwasher. I see my mom go towards the front door. The tears are welling up again. I walk back toward the front door. My mom is holding my sister. She opens an arm to me and holds me too. I sob. My body shakes as she holds us and we cry together. Tears and snot run down my face. I blow a snot bubble as I try to breathe. 

I go upstairs and take a shower. My music stops at one point because my phone is ringing. I stick my head out and see that Cassie is FaceTiming me. I continue to shower. I sob. I’m cry so hard I start to cough. I cough so hard I worry I might throw up. The grief from this loss is overwhelming me in this shower. I remember the last time I lost someone unexpectedly. When I heard the news I wanted to go wash the bad news off. I realize that this time I get to wash the bad news off my body, but it doesn’t make me feel better. I step out of the shower, wrap a towel around my body, and call Cassie back.

April 4 8:47

Cassie answers the call. We talk as I get ready for bed. She sees me moving about the house from the bathroom to my bedroom to the bathroom to my parents room to the bathroom to the kitchen to the bathroom to my bedroom. I’m only able to keep one thought in my mind at a time, which means there’s a lot of backtracking for forgotten steps in my routine. We say goodbye and I try to go to sleep. It takes a while and I wake up a couple times. At one point I almost start crying again.

I had a dream that night. 

I was at an event. Bob and Ellen walked in together. I did a double take and just stared at Ellen. Then I looked at Momma with a look of disbelief. Was this whole thing just a horrible practical joke. She just looked back and said “I know”

I think it was after waking up from that when I almost cried. 

April 5 

I wake up exhausted. When I sit down to breakfast I open Facebook. The first thing I see is a post from her daughter. I immediately close Facebook with tears in my eyes. I vow not to go on Facebook for the rest of the day. I watch Netflix during breakfast instead. 

I go to work. Stiff upper lip. My coworker sees me sitting at a table and asks how I am. I shake my head. Tired? I shake my head again. She asks me what’s wrong. I don’t want to talk about it. She asks again. I tell her my friend took a nap yesterday and didn’t wake up. She hugs me. I cry. She tells me to sit, asks if I need water. I tell her that I have water with my things and I want to work. Another coworker sees me later and says I look tired. It’s true, so I don’t elaborate. It becomes my answer when people greet me.

I think of Ellen throughout the day. I have to be careful to not ruminate though, or I know I’ll start to cry. I feel like a zombie. My brain is mush. I don’t allow myself to have any emotions unless they’re positive, or I’m going to cry. Luckily it’s Fun Friday, so a large portion of the day is spent watching movies. I sit at an empty desk and watch Hotel Transylvania 3 while keeping an eye on my kid. It’s a good distraction. 

After work I go to the post office and worry they’ll be short with me. Just that small act would be enough to make me cry. Just imagining it is almost enough. 

I make into my subdivision and the tears begin to well up. I lie in bad and open Facebook. My feed is filled with posts about Ellen. There are literally no other posts on my feed. I read them all as I cry. I take off what remains of that morning’ s mascara.

I’m tired. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can't sleep when I’m thinking about her. I watch an episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine. When the episode ends I start it over to play while I take a nap. Having it play in the background gives me something to think about as I drift to sleep. I drift in and out of sleep, but the important thing is that some of the time I am sleeping, and for the entire half hour I am resting. 

I eat dinner with my parents. I invite my mom to come to the women's conference that night. She accepts and I realize that the time was remembering the time wrong. I don’t have time to put on makeup, only to pull a pair of pants out of the drier and grab a jacket. I pull up the information we need as my mom drives. Being late is stressful, but It’s calming not having to drive, knowing that it’s out of my hands. Really, I think I just don't have the energy to be anxious. A side effect of being a zombie. We arrive and it turns out we’re on time. The men serving all look so nice. The women attending all look fantastic. I walk stone faced with my mother and find seats for me and my friends. I go to the bathroom. I walk quickly, stone face. I return and my friends start to join us. 

Worship starts. I stand and start to sing, but I can’t. I try to mouth the words, but instead and just stand with tears rolling down my face. I cry for the entire first song. I cry for part of the second, but am able to start mouthing the words. By the end of the extended set, I am able to sing. The songs have a lot of emotions. And while my emotions don’t match that of the song, it’s lethargic to sing with all the emotions I am feeling. At the end of the night my friends and I talk about our plans for the next day, then part ways.

At home, I eat ice cream and use eye masks. My sister sent them to me in college for use after late night study sessions, but I never used them. Now seems like a good time. I go to bed. 

April 6

I wake up and feel fine. I quickly remember that Ellen is gone, but I feel fine. I have no explanation. I get ready for the day, put extra tissues in my purse, and leave. I go to the second day of the conference. My friends and I leave early to drive to Pleasanton. Sitting in a car together for over 2 hours makes it feel like we’re in high school again. We get to the funeral home at exactly one o’clock, but miss the driveway and have to go around the block. We end up being 7 minutes late. We exit the car laughing and talking about how much we have to pee. Amo points out that the doors to the funeral home are open and everyone can hears us. I point out that this is how Hayley knew us, why would we show up in any other way? During the service I get choked up, but I do not cry. After the service Momma tells us her view of the events from Thursday night. It hurts and I am sad but I am fine. At Hayley’s house we sit in the backyard reminiscing. Going into the house, the slideshow reminds me why we are here. There is a somber air.  

April 7

I sleep in later than usual because I’m going to the late service at Amo’s church. During worship my arm is out and my eyes are closed for part of it. My mother tells me that their service had a somber air. I am at peace and happy on my way to young adults that evening. I make sure not to come in with full energy like I did with the funeral the day before. Everyone else seems somewhere between ‘okay for now’ and ‘zombie’. Bill tells us about the seven stages of grief and what he thinks would and would not be helpful to the family. Will leads us through the ACTS prayer. I got choked up, but did not cry. We share memories of Ellen. As we sit around talking later, Zach realizes he didn’t say hi early and gets up and gives me a hug. It feels like it lasts 10 seconds and he says words of comfort. I realize how hard this is hitting everyone. Before I leave for the night, I give everyone there a hug. 

April 9

Tuesday is a long day. I am tired, but fine. 

Before dinner at Bible study, Darrin asks how everyone is. I want to say good, but I know I shouldn’t be good, so I stare at a spot on the floor and slightly nod my head. When he gets to me I just ask what part of the week he wants to know about. It’s accepted as a good enough answer. As we talk about prayer requests toward the end, most of us have at least one pertaining to Ellen and the aftermath. I talk about how I’ve been feeling good since Saturday, but I’m wary. I know grief comes in waves, but I thought I should have another wave or two by now. Lauren prays that I process Ellen’s death. I see this and note that it is an accurate summary of what I need. I need processing.

I go home and see the Chick-fil-A sauce from a week ago. It’s been one week since I saw Ellen. One week since I got that sauce. I start to get choked up. I give myself space to feel. I play “Supermarket Flowers”. The song always makes me cry. I cry, but not as much as I usually do to this song. I realize that I relate the song to my grandpa, but not Ellen. Over the next couple days I gave myself some space in the evening/night to feel sad and shed a tear or two. 

April 13

The service was today. When I walked in, Jen gave me a hug. She asked if I needed another one, and when she hugged me again I started to cry. I could feel as my body shook ever so slightly.  Mrs. Schrader says that she has been looking forward to today, but also dreading it. I completely understand the sentiment. We find our seats toward the back. It’s the perfect spot to the see all the people coming in. Some I know, some I don’t. I get to see a lot of old friends. I’m happy to see them, just not under these circumstances. I cried during the service. Multiple times. My body shook as I quietly cried. After the service I get to see more people. Talking to them helps lift the sadness. 

[fashiontrendin-blog]

How I Learned to Make Friends With My Anxiety

https://fashion-trendin.com/how-i-learned-to-make-friends-with-my-anxiety/

How I Learned to Make Friends With My Anxiety

T

he first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is check my email. I sleep with my phone under my pillow, and every morning, I hold my breath and scroll for anything important. It’s almost always your standard deluge of morning messages, but sometimes there are emails about exciting project opportunities like writing jobs or speaking gigs — the kinds of things I should be thrilled about given they’re how I earn an income. But in reality, they’re yet another entry on the list of things that make me anxious.

When you’re an anxious person, even something good can fill you with dread and panic: How will I deal with this important thing?

I work for myself, which means I’m in a perpetual state of semi-panic. My mind is filled with constant nagging worries that any self-employed person will easily recognize: What if my tax bill is huge? What if I fall and break my arm on the Metro? Should I have never quit my 9 to 5? Throw my anxiety into the mix, and most of my days are spent with a low-level fear that something bad will happen and that once I go through the internal whodunit in my mind, I’ll realize that I was to blame the entire time. The call was coming from inside the house; I am ruining my own life with my own behavior.

As a full-time creative professional who writes, hosts a podcast and designs social media content, a lot of my daily work involves staying on top of the kinds of tasks that get more difficult to deal with the longer I put them off. And they’re the kinds of tasks that feel so good to put off: answering that email, tracking down those forms, scheduling that appointment, booking that flight. I tell myself I deserve to put them off for a day, so I do. And then I do it again and again and again. Then it becomes habit. But in my line of work, putting off an email could mean missing out on a big gig or a deadline and rent money.

I was recently offered a dream opportunity: to produce a live episode of my podcast at South by Southwest in front of a sizeable audience. It was the perfect launchpad for a budding creative like myself, but it was also a perfect storm of things that make me anxious.

As soon as the opportunity landed in my inbox, a familiar a chorus line of anxiety was set in motion. Would I overthink the confirmation email reply and never send it? Would I be too nervous to cold email people? Would I stress about booking the last-minute flight and put it off until it was financially prohibitive? How would I ruin this golden opportunity? How much would I hate myself for it if I did?

While I voiced all these anxieties aloud to a close friend, I realized I sounded like a pessimistic broken record and that I wasn’t even giving myself the chance to imagine it would be a success; I had already decided the outcome would be a negative one. It was a moment of clarity.

Wendy Wood, a social psychologist who studies the neurology of habits and how to break them, writes that a key component of breaking habitual behavior is giving yourself space to do things differently. “First you must derail existing habits and create a window of opportunity to act on new intentions,” she says. The way someone who’s trying to quit soda might have to train themselves to stop wandering down the soda aisle when grocery shopping, Wood says that disrupting your old cues is one of the keys to breaking bad habits. In other words, if anxiety has me feeling like a broken record, I need to actually do something — anything! — to break the repetition. Stop sleeping with my phone under my phone under my pillow. Delete the Instagram app. Have a friend change my Facebook password. Work from anywhere other than my apartment and vow to not return until I’ve finished. (If you already have a great tactic, add it in the comments.)

Wendy Wood’s words really spoke to me. I don’t have to play this the way I always do, I thought to myself. I may have anxiety, but that doesn’t mean anxiety has me. 

Bolstered by the notion that I could break the pattern, that I was in control, I took a deep breath and began. I listed out the steps I needed to take in descending order and gave myself an hour to complete them. I emailed the important people. I booked the guests. I bought the last-minute flights. Instead of dwelling on the dread these kinds of tasks often elicit in me, I rolled up my sleeves and did them before I had the chance to procrastinate. And you know what? My last-minute flight to Austin didn’t bankrupt me or crash into the ocean. The important guests confirmed their attendance and then showed up. People came and enjoyed themselves. The live show went mostly as planned, and I was elated. And even though there were some tiny snags (like when a guest showed up so close to showtime I could only assume I’d given her the wrong address), it was okay. Nobody got fired. Nobody died. Nobody got screamed at. Even if things don’t go 100 percent smoothly, they went, which is better than not going at all.

This whole experience showed me is that I am not my anxiety and that I can break out of the cycle of feeling unable to tackle things that I’ve deemed “hard.” If any of this sounds familiar to you and your creative process, here are some tactics I’ve found helpful while tackling the biggest anxious hitch in my own.

Spend Some Time Thinking About Why Things That “Should Be Exciting” Feel Stressful to You

In an interview with the Creative Independent, sociologist Eve Ewing explains how she handles that all-too familiar feeling of really, really not wanting to do something.

She says: “I’m a big believer that when you don’t want to do something, there’s a deeper reason. When I find myself dragging or having a hard time, I step back and ask, ‘Why aren’t you doing this? Is it ‘cause the project isn’t important? Why’d you do it then? Is it just for money? Like you agreed to do this just for money or you said yes because the person seemed important?’ And I’m like, ‘Maybe you shouldn’t do that again.’”

I first read that when I was in a tailspin of writer’s-block-induced self-loathing, and it sparked another moment of clarity. If I don’t actually want to do something I agreed to do, acknowledging my reluctance can help me decide next steps.

I know it’s easy to ignore those feelings and struggle through the associated tasks instead, but next time you find yourself filled with dread and anxiety about a project, ask yourself: Is it early enough in the project that you can responsibly pull the plug? If you can’t bow out, who can you ask for help? Can you ask for a deadline extension? Even if none of that is possible, spend a little time ruminating on the why of this anxiety and remember its source; this can give you clarity when faced with a similar decision next time. It will give you a lot of insight into how you work.

Be Like Nike and Just Do It

According to a Lifehacker piece about procrastination, we start feeling anxious about tasks the moment they plop onto our plates (no sh*t), and that anxiety worsens the longer we put tasks off. If you’re not actually making progress, then nothing happens during this phase other than the accumulation of bad feelings. So, if you want to save yourself weeks of feeling like an unproductive piece of crap, the only logical thing to do is just start.

Easier said than done, I know. Here are some tips I use: Try setting a timer and writing nonstop for five minutes. Or break your project down into small, easier-to-manage tasks. If writing and sending a two-minute email will get the ball rolling on a project, start there and use the momentum it creates to fuel your next steps.

At Harvard Business Review, economist and executive coach Caroline Webb writes that zeroing in on the smallest step is a good way to dive into a daunting project. You know how procrastinating feels so good? That’s because research shows your brain is pretty much always biased toward feeling good now over feeling good later. To combat that, Webb says you should identify that easy-to-accomplish first step, “something that’s so easy that even your present-biased brain can see that the benefits outweigh the costs of effort.”

Make an Accountability Pact

I’m lucky to have friends in my life who hold me accountable; they recognize my patterns (when I go MIA, it means I’m stressing) and they help get me back on track. Having an easier time staying on track when friends are involved isn’t unusual: A study from the Institute of Applied Health Sciences at the University of Aberdeen asked a group of participants to find a new “gym buddy” while a different group worked out solo. In the end, the group who leaned on supportive workout pals worked out more.

Asking a friend or roommate to keep you on track requires vulnerability and clear communication. This can feel scary, so offer to make it a two-way street. Maybe your friend helps you beat procrastination while you help her get to the gym more. Maybe you both text one another when you want to stray from your paths. This way, you’re both sharing in the vulnerability while offering mutual support.

Treat Yourself

Once you’ve completed the project that caused you anxiety, reward yourself! Getting a handle on anxiety isn’t easy. Celebrate small victories. You train a puppy by giving her a treat when she exhibits behavior you want her to repeat, right? Think of yourself as a more complex version of a puppy and reward yourself for completing tasks.

When I finally tackle a handful of things I’ve been putting off, I celebrate by watching “bad TV.” And while I’m still in the middle of the work, knowing that I get to watch whatever I want (for as long as I want) once I finish keeps me going. It’s a literal light at the end of the tunnel.

Webb says treating yourself is effective because it helps take the edge off having to do things we don’t want to do. “We can make the cost of effort feel even smaller if we link that small step to something we’re actually looking forward to doing. In other words, tie the task that we’re avoiding to something that we’re not avoiding,” she writes.

For me, anxiety is like that mean girl from junior high who was always there to point out my flaws, only she lives inside my head. While I may never fully silence the inner monologue that drives me to obsess on the scary “what ifs” of any given situation, I’ve learned that I don’t have to let it stop me from doing the things I want to do in life — starting with my to-do list.

Bridget Todd is writer and digital strategist who lives out of a suitcase. She is the cohost of the podcast Stuff Mom Never Told You. Her Twitter is @BridgetMarie and her IG is @BridgetMarieinDC

lllustrations by Gabrielle Lamontagne.

[dcnativegal]

Grace, and its twin sister, Gratitude

Two days before Thanksgiving, and 2 days after driving home from Saint Helena California, I went to our writers group in Paisley, called Easy Writers. After we shared various bits we’d written, we had our writing prompt. Gratitude. So, I wrote this.

“One cannot go straight to gratitude if there is a deep anger that hasn’t been recognized, bowed to respectfully, and aired. Let the wind fan the flames. Let the anger burn to ashes, quietly, but with all due crackles.

             Brush the ashes away.

Then build a chair out of the gifts that were always there, though hidden. Even if there is only one gift, that you were conceived and born.

             Sit in the chair you have built.

             Forgive that which has burned and is no more.

             Finally, rest in gratitude.

I just returned from a retreat in which I worked on a series of steps – from awareness to anger, then to compassion and forgiveness. If I’m asked to reflect on Gratitude, I think, I am still and always forgiven, and I am so very grateful for that. I am grateful I’ve survived this far. That there were positive legacies from my parents, alongside the deprivation.

That I can let go of anger, as well as patterns that I inherited but don’t have to perpetuate. (Like self-loathing. I really don’t need that pattern.)

And I also know that forgiveness requires actual labor to be born, complete with screams and tears.

             And then the result is a new life called Grace, and her twin sister,

Gratitude.”

+++++++++++++

My spirit guide needs coffee.

I spent 7 days in Napa Valley at a nonprofit retreat space in White Sulphur Springs in Napa County. I’d signed up for The Hoffman Process, paid for by my sister who’d just been through the Process in August. Her husband did it in October. We three have been Hoffmanized.

What does that mean exactly? Well, at one point I was sitting uncomfortably on the floor with a yellow whiffle bat in my hands, beating a large pillow, and chanting to myself “There is enough. Enough God. Enough Love, Enough food, Enough money. I am enough. I will honor You by thriving.” I know that I was chanting this because I stopped and wrote it down while 36 other fellow humans were pounding away all around me. We were SUPPOSED to be beating out negative patterns that we’d either inherited during our childhoods from our parents (and surrogate parents if we had any), or that we’d adopted in strict opposition to parental behavior. In my case, I adopted habits of observing my depressed mother very closely: that power of observation of humans serves me very well as a therapist. But I also adopted her habit of self-loathing. So I ‘bashed’ my self-loathing. And a bunch of other stuff. (We made a list of 25 WORST patterns for each parent!) So, I was seeking something positive. That’s where the There is ENOUGH came in. I guess you could call it an affirmation. And it came spontaneously to me.

It was an emotionally challenging week; at times, exhausting. We were to consult our emotional selves, our Intellect selves, our Spiritual selves, and a Spirit Guide. My Spirit Guide was pretty quiet. He was basically monosyllabic. But they were good syllables: Trust. Hope.  Pretty key for my week.

We did a lot of guided visualizations. I pictured my emotional self as about 8 years old, often with arms crossed and a pouty face. And a potty mouth. “This is bullshit” she’d say. Or, “this won’t work, I’m still unlovable.” Basically an attitude early in the week of “Everybody hates me, nobody likes me, guess I’ll go eat dirt.” In fact, I had to metaphorically unplug my powerful, well-calibrated Bullshit Detector early on, thank it for its faithful service, and put it a suitcase in the car. I figured, I trust my sister and she’s invested 5 grand to send me here. These people seem okay. I need help, so I better dig in and hope for the best. One woman expressed what some of us were thinking: when do we drink the Kool Aid? Nervous laughter. Turned out, we were in Napa County so it was more like a non-alcoholic Zinfindel, a liquid Hope. I think every one of us drank that, and left feeling as though we really could be happier, more heart- and spirit-centered, more service-oriented, less guarded and stuck.  

We were reassured by a sign on the wall that said, You cannot fail the process.

Some of ‘the process’ felt like an emotional archaeological dig, using first jackhammers, and then delicate brushes. We remembered our childhoods, going back to scenes in memories. The purpose was to look for the roots, the taproots, of poisonous weeds and pull them out. And then get rid of them. We actually made posters of images and words that hold us back. Then in a ceremony, we threw them in a fireplace, and declared our new found intentions. Mine was: I am lovable, and I am beautiful. I still feel lovable. The beautiful is only in Valerie’s eyes, and not in my own, but that’s okay.

My feelings of sadness were dispelled pretty quickly at this place, and replaced by anxious hopefulness. As I survived more of the process, with the support of the teachers, my small group members, and some of the friends I was making, the anxiety went down. All of us were learning new tools to apply to the old behaviors. There were boxes of tissues in every space, and they were emptied and replaced. The assembled crew was 9 males, 28 females, ranging from a wide-eyed child of 24 to a grizzled Mr. Crankypants of 73 who’d be awarded a trophy of “most opened” if there were such a thing.

The Hoffman Process has been honed by 50 years of experimentation. There was a great deal of familiar (to me) psychological theory at work during the week. No therapy is 100% effective for everyone.  But when we shared stories of what got us to this 7-day adventure, people mentioned how they had noticed that a “Hoffman Grad” was different when they got home: happier, calmer, nicer. One woman told a story of a store owner who’d served a particularly bitchy customer for years. One day, Miss Bitchy came in and was nice and courteous and patient. Finally, store owner told her she noticed how much happier she seemed. Miss Transformed said, The Hoffman Process.

Apparently Bonnie Raitt did it years ago, and John Denver. Other famous folks, too, including a beautiful actress Thandie Newton, perhaps best known for the movie, Crash.

The Hoffman Process even has a Spotify channel, a soundtrack to the week. The music was played strategically, and was highly effective. At one point it was used for fun. After another long evening of reflection, we were asked to lie on our backs with our heads toward the center of the circle. We lay there with our eyes closed until they said open. The ceiling was full of lights that looked like galaxies moving, and John Lennon’s Imagine played. We all sang along and most of us (except for maybe Mr. Most Opened) knew every word. Magical.

We had name tags with our childhood nicknames on it until a great reveal the evening before the final day. We were encouraged not to tell our professions. And no wifi or cell phone for 6 of the 7 days. Our ceremony of revelation was really something: a slow parade of people who told us what they do for a living, and what their real names are. Toad became Todd. Schmoot became Lauren. Teep became Stephen. I went from Janie to Jane. And I’m an addiction counselor and psychotherapist to a very rural and poor part of an Eastern Oregon county.

++++

On the last night I was in Saint Helena, we who were staying the night after our last workshop had to go forage for food in the town. About 15 of us morphed and reshuffled into groups based on available cars and culinary pickiness. We parked near one place, and I told my driver friend I was off to get cash at an ATM. I did that, and rejoined the biggest clump of people, noticing that my driver friend was not around, but figured maybe she went off with the other participant. Half of us marched in the cold behind someone who’d heard of a fun place. We got there, it was outdoors, although with heat lamps, and again half said we’ll stay, so we remaining 4 ordered elaborate hamburgers (mine was vegetarian). I’m mostly done with my burger and who should show up, but the driver and our friend. They’d been looking for me all this time! Once they located me, they said well okay then, we’re going to find someplace warmer. Off they went, and one of my Hoffie dinner friends says, Don’t feel guilty, Janie. ACK. I did feel guilty.  I ran straight into one of my patterns: that no one notices me because I am not worth noticing.  Finally, they gave up on finding any other place, joined us, and we shared our sweet potato fries. Everyone told me to nip the guilt in the bud. Like Maya Angelou once said, when you know better you do better. Now I know better. I am not invisible. I belong just as well and just as awkwardly as everyone else. The Process came to the fore right then in real time.

I talked to my sister about this, and although she is way more beautiful and smarter than I am, she has this same tendency; to assume that she is not important. She looked at that pattern during her Process, too. She reminded me how much we were on our own in our family, with dad providing for us by working two jobs and mother struggling with her mental health. We were not read to, or asked about our day. Oh poor us, I know: we were fed and sheltered. But we picked up somehow that we were to be dragged along and not make a fuss. I was surprised my sister has this pattern too. We are going to keep bashing it until we allow ourselves to count more, in some humble way, if we have something to contribute. Which I knew we both do.

             For the record, The Hoffman Process is done in Napa Valley, Connecticut, Australia and England. They have scholarships. It makes a whole lot of sense to do the Process if you are feeling stuck in patterns of behavior or thoughts that are keeping you from being fully your best self, ready every day to heal the world. If you sign up, you will be surrounded by accomplished people who are for the most part much wealthier than you are (if you’re like me. Say, a social worker, and bad with money.) But the fact that we hid our professions equalized us, and we became a motley collection of seekers with an unbelievable amount of pain inside each of us.

             I started the week scanning the crowd for who was fat like me, who would judge me for being plain. The richer the folk, the skinner and more conventionally attractive. As the week went on, I was embraced and recognized. For, guess what, yeah you guessed it, my sense of humor and my knitting. There were two queer people there whom I zoomed in on right quick. I had someone to talk to at dinner (when it wasn’t a silent dinner.) By the end of the week, I had gone to the hot tub in all my fleshiness, taught a beautiful young surfer how to knit, and hated myself a little less.

Here’s a poem from our workbook, which was filled with poems and quotations:

You are not broken;

Childhood suffering is not a mortal wound,

And it did not irrevocably shape your destiny.

 You need not remove,

Destroy,

Or tear anything out of yourself in order

to build something new.

 Your challenge is not to keep trying to repair what was damaged;

Your practice instead is to reawaken

what is already wise, strong,

And whole within you,

To cultivate those qualities of heart and spirit

That are available to you in this very moment.

 By Wayne Muller, Legacy of the Heart: The Spiritual Advantages of a Painful Childhood.

 That particular bit of writing goes against the Process philosophy that something unhealthy must indeed be torn ‘out of yourself in order to build something new.’  But it’s all metaphorical anyway.  Here’s another one that I think we can all agree on:

The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect,

He becomes an adolescent.

The day he forgives them,

He becomes an adult;

The day he forgives himself,

He becomes wise.

             By Alden Nowlan

 I am grateful to be a little wiser. And I will working on forgiving myself, and loving myself as best I can until those are stronger muscles of self care. Then perhaps I can be of more and better service in the world, and feel a deeper joy. Life is short. Feel joy first.