#any mean words about light mode WILL BE blocked /j

[monoem]

Discord messages got LEAKED

But here's more fun moments I find picture worthy as I watched JWCC and CT ( featuring Oli's spectacular inputs )

Okay bai

[alpacaparkaseok]

7 Secrets <pt. 3>

GENRE: Soulmate!au BTS!

WARNINGS: It’s a bit emotional, but not too bad. So don’t cry, ok?

WORD COUNT: 2,143

Part 3 here we go! Like I mentioned before, I want to make this story as realistic as possible, while still allowing for fun elements. Obviously that implies some emotional moments, but I feel like this will hopefully allow us to see Beth (and the other characters) is a familiar light. I’ve fallen in love with these characters much faster than I even anticipated, so I hope you enjoy! Part 4 will be up soon!

A hushed conversation is what eventually pulls me out of my slumber, although I try my best to ignore them.

“I just feel bad waking her up, she must be exhausted.”

“Yeah, but she won’t be able to sleep tonight if she sleeps much longer.”

“True. Ah, do you think she’ll notice if I steal her photo from Jeju Island?”

At this I finally drag myself to consciousness, ferociously protective of my photo. “You touch it and you die,” my threat comes out sounding not quite as threatening as I had hoped, and the fact that my exhausted brain only managed to get the threat out in English doesn’t help.

I turn to see Minsuh and Aera standing guiltily in the doorway, the former with an embarrassed smile.

“Did you just threaten us?” Minsuh asks tauntingly, knowing that it always takes me a few minutes after I wake up to completely switch into Korean mode. I simply nod as angrily as possible.

“Of course,” Aera snorts at my predicament. “It was easy to tell from your tone of voice. You know, for being the youngest, you aren’t very respectful of your elders.”

I completely ignore her, this being a common point of teasing between us all. Although I am the youngest, and the last out of the seven of us to find out about this whole soulmate mess, they still tend to look to me when it comes to making leadership decisions. I’ve never questioned it much, having always felt most comfortable leading, but I can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with who my soulmate is.

I check my phone to see that it’s already nearly 9 pm, and I shoot them a glare at the same time my stomach growls. They simply skip out of my room, but not before Aera peeks back in to tell me to freshen up.

“We’ll go out to eat in fifteen minutes! Are you sure you don’t want takeout instead? It’s been a long day for you.” Aera takes all of my possible needs into consideration, a trait that I’ve always admired. It’s also the reason why we’ve often had to tell her to slow down, breathe, and focus on taking care of herself. I hope Jimin will understand that too.

Long story short, I have a lot of hopes for my fellow soul-sisters and their soulmates and very, very little for myself.

“No, I want to go out. It’s been so long since we’ve all gone out together. What are we getting?”

Aera smiles at me, pleased with my decision. She’s one of the most social, always aching to get out and go do something.

“Ichika was going on about getting some udon noodles, does that sound alright?”

My stomach rumbles at the mere mention of the Japanese noodles, and we both take that as a yes.

↔

When Bang Si-hyuk decided that it would be best if the seven of us had an apartment together in Seoul, our only condition was that it be close to good food. He might have thought it strange or immature, but I’m still grateful for our foresight back then.

I currently wander beside Himari, our arms slung around each other's shoulders. Ichika leads the way with Kyung-Soon, the two of them rubbing their bellies as we all talk about the good food we just devoured.

If I try hard enough, the cameras that are capturing our every move fade away into the blackness of the night.

Minsuh, Aera, and Seohyun bring up the rear, singing “Mic Drop” at the top of their lungs.

“Himari! Himari!” Seohyun giggles like a maniac. It’s no secret she’s a sucker for Mic Drop. I’ve heard her sing it more than I’ve heard the actual song at this point. “C’mon, help me with the ‘mic mic bungee’ transition, from j-hope to Suga.”

Himari wastes no time in jumping back there, the two of them looking absolutely insane as they go all out. It leaves the rest of us with tears running from our eyes at the sight.

“You look drunk,” Kyung-Soon points out, trying and failing to look serious. “Did you drink?”

Both girls giggle in response, still trying to perfect the transition. “No, of course not. We’re drunk on life, Soon-ah!” Seohyun blurts out, and we all groan in response.

“You know how we get when we’re all together,” Aera interjects. I note that Minsuh has taken her phone out of her pocket and is filming the show. I have no doubt that she’ll find a way to use the footage against them in the future.

“It’s been sooo long,” Ichika adds, smiling warmly at me.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry that I had to leave for so long. I know you all missed me.” I smirk at them, and they roll their eyes at me. Nobody denies it though, I have hundreds of text messages stating how much they missed me to prove it. I swear I received at least one every day.

Kyung-Soon links her arm in mine, and we continue walking. “We’ll see you weirdos at the house,” she calls over her shoulder. One camera breaks off to follow us from a distance, the other staying behind to watch the show play out. Sure enough, Seohyun and Himari hardly even notice our absence, they’re too busy trying to remember choreography.

With only a couple of blocks left to go before we make it back to our apartment, Soon and I fall into a companionable silence. It’s a while before she breaks it.

“How’s everything going with your book?”

I smile at her, touched that she thought to even ask. She’s always been good at that, though. “It’s...going.” I shrug, and she gives me a knowing laugh.

“You’ve said that about every book. Is this one no different?”

Kyung-Soon is one of the quieter ones, but she’s also one of the people I trust the most. We’ve spent countless nights over the past three years talking late into the night, bouncing book ideas off of each other as well as discussing our deepest fears.

“Well, it was going great for a while. Right now I’m struggling with a bit of writer’s block. Or it’s not even writer’s block. I’m just…” I sigh, craning my neck to look up at the stars far above me. “I’m just tired.”

Kyung-Soon hums in acknowledgement. That’s another thing that I admire. She rarely jumps in with a solution. If she asks a question, it’s because she wants to listen to the answer, not because she’s waiting with a counter-attack.

I wonder for a brief moment if Jin, her soulmate, does the same thing. I entertain the thought for all of two seconds before shaking it off.

Our apartment can be seen at the end of the street, the balcony light still flipped on from earlier.

“Why do you think you’re tired?”

I look at Kyung-Soon, my oldest soul-sister also looking at the balcony light with a small smile on her face. With that expression on her face, I release a shaky breath. The exhaustion from my flight, the pressure of my book deadlines as well as current Webtoon updates and meetings that I have coming up all settle in.

“Soon-ah,” I whisper, and I lower my gaze until it falls on the microphone clipped to my shirt. “Am I doing the right thing?”

She waits patiently for me to continue, even as she gestures something to the cameraman. He mumbles a quiet “goodnight” before retreating into the shadows to set up his camera in a new position.

Kyung-Soon unlocks the door, quietly ushering me inside as I take deep breaths. It doesn’t take long before I’m led out onto the balcony, and I realize that she must have told the cameraman that we would be up there, thus allowing him to capture more footage without having him impose on our conversation inside. I’m grateful for her kind thought, I usually hate when the cameras have to follow us inside.

“It’s just, everytime I come back to Seoul, I start questioning myself all over again.” I wrap myself up in a spare blanket, offering another to Kyung-Soon which she accepts. “There’s just so much uncertainty. Not just in my job. I’m kind of used to that by now, everything can change in a rewrite or an editorial meeting and turn my whole book upside down in a matter of seconds. It’s frustrating, but I can handle that.”

Soon sits quietly, looking up at the night sky. I mirror her movement, hoping it masks the tears that are threatening to spill over at any minute now.

“What’s the other uncertainty?”

We both already know what it is, although I rarely speak about it. I’ve never really even known how to open up and talk about how even though I should be the most happy girl in the world knowing that Kim Namjoon is my soulmate, I have to stop myself from fleeing to Antarctica at the mere thought of actually having to face him.

“I can’t-” I start, but Soon cuts me off.

“You have to.” I look over at her face, which is now completely serious. “Beth, please don’t lock us out and keep all of these feelings to yourself. You don’t have to tell us every little thing, but you need to talk about it. Just because you don’t say it out loud doesn’t mean that you won’t feel scared or worried anymore.”

Sometime during her little speech, the tears started falling. I fall into Soon’s embrace, neither one of us acknowledging the fact that this is the first time I’ve openly cried about my soulmate since that first weekend in Jeju Island. And, if I remember correctly, all of us cried a bit that weekend.

We stay there for a few minutes, and I close my eyes tight because every time I open them they stray to where the cameraman sits in the shadows, eating up the sentimental moment.

“Please tell me,” Soon whispers, and I nod even as a broken hiccup leaves me. I chuckle at the random hiccup, and it helps me to breathe easier as the load I’m bearing is already starting to feel lighter.

“I look at our boys,” I begin, clinging tightly to my blanket and looking up at the stars for the strength I need to say what I need to say. “And I feel like they’re already complete. They have each other, they have ARMY, they’re complete. They have no idea that soulmates are even a thing, let alone that they have soulmates. There’s a part of me that’s mad about that. Mad that for the last three years I’ve been waiting for a man that is already happy without me, that is already more loved that he can even fathom. Mad at freaking Mr. Bang,” Soon chuckles, knowing how much I love and hate the man, “because he refuses to tell them until the ‘time is right’. It’s been three years! And I’ve picked myself back up and tried my hardest to continue on in my career, and it’s fulfilling. I have the most amazing friends in the world, my family is so loving and supportive, and I love my job.”

I stop, nearly panting as my anger fades into something sharper, jabbing at my heart as hot tears spill out onto my cheeks. Soon squeezes my shoulder, bringing me back to the present.

“So why do I feel so lonely?”

I lose the ability to go on speaking, the words too heavy to push out anymore. Instead I simply stare down at my knuckles that clutch the blanket so hard they’re white.

“Oh, Beth. I’m so sorry. Here I was, thinking that it was physically impossible for you to miss Namjoon. Turns out you’re just like me!” Kyung-Soon chuckles even as she wipes the tears from my eyes. “And I know what you’re thinking. How can I miss someone I’ve never met? Easy.” She holds a hand to her heart, and for a moment I can see through my tears enough to see the faraway look in her eyes, mingled with pain and adoration. “Jin has my heart. The idiot doesn’t even realize it, but he’s got it. So I just hope that he returns it to me soon, and in person. That way I can give him a taste of his own medicine and steal his heart. See how he likes it.”

I can’t help but laugh at the evil wink Soon sends me.

“He’ll probably fall in love with you the second he sees you, Soon-ah.”

“What’s that word you taught me again? When I want to say the same thing back?

Another chuckle falls from my lips. “Ditto?”

“Yeah, that. Ditto, Beth. Namjoon won’t know what hit him.”

Previous - Next

[katsukikitten]

Irritated

"WHAT?!" Both of you yell in unison as your chairs topple over. The sound of the crashing metal against lightly carpeted floors has you glaring straight back at a pair of ember hot eyes.

You both narrow them at the same time before the third, more sheepish party in the room speaks up.

"G..guys Calm down okay?" Izuku tries his best to come off soothing but instead he heightens the situation.

"CALM DOWN?!" The hot head across from you explodes further as the director sighs deeply, "I'LL FUCKING SHOW YOU CALM DEKU!"

"Stop coming at Izuku-kun like that. What has he ever done to you?!" You bark.

"He was born with such a stupid look on his face that's what!"

"Oh just like you were born with a stick up your ass huh Bakugou?" His eyes narrow to slits, he's about to make his normal suggestion of let's take this outside but the director cuts him off before either of you can whoop the others ass.

"Are we not adults here?!" The director smooths back his hair before staring into his empty coffee cup, "You know I was really excited when my father told me I would be the head over the top female hero and the two tied number one males but now I'm seeing why he retired early! You two even fight over Twitter!!"

"You're both a PR nightmare!" He gives you and Bakugou a sharp look, "You cannot just tell the paparazzi to fuck off cause you're not in the mood."

"But my fans like my honesty." You try to defend and Bakugou laughs almost cruelly.

"No, what they like are your fat tits. They can't make it past that to hear your foul mouth."

You bare your teeth snarling to retort but again the director cuts in.

"Enough." He glares at you and then Bakugou, "Both of you. You'll give me a heart attack before this is all over. I'm going to have to let you three go if this convention does not work out. The agency cannot handle this stress no matter how could you three are. Nezuko more coffee please love."

His assistant makes quick work of filing out of the room, anything to get away from the chaos. Director Yami pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You cannot be fucking serious?"

"Wha..Director Yami I'm sorry if I ever upset you that was not my intention but let go?"

"What bullshit is this we are the top three fucking heros?! Too much stress?!?!"

"YES!" Yami slams his fist onto the tables shocking the three of you in silence. Sure Director cusses often, snaps a few times but he never, ever raises his voice. He breathes out slowly to collect himself, straightening his tie as he does, "The company cannot get any new potential. All of the upcoming heros are worried they will be placed on important missions at the same time the three of you are on it."

"But we've worked successfully together before." You interject causing Yami's eyes to train in on you.

"Successfully sure but not well together. Izuku struggles which side to take when you or Katsuki try to lead. You both argue the entire mission and nether of you guide the apprentice or new hero."

"Not our job they should pay attention." Bakugou rolls his eyes, "It would be helpful if she just listened."

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black."

"Please!" Yami yells again, "Both of you need to listen. I'm not kidding I'll have to let you three go to different agencies. Yes you're the top heroes but you cannot live forever. The company will need to find replacements for you at some point but that cannot be done if you're always scaring them off!"

Silence falls over the room, agitation washes over your face along with Katuski's as sadness washes over Izuku's.

"Deku, Ground Zero, and Tejina will be at this comic con. Izuku to learn to have a spine when it comes to reigning you two in, to help you two get along." Director's brown eyes cut to you and Bakugou with new found harshness, "Katsuki to keep his fans interested and Y/N so you can actually meet your fans. Since for whatever reason father let you have your way on that. Not to mention 97% of this regions merchandise has one of your three faces on it and about 90% of the nation's merchandise is you three. This is a national convention."

"I just think it's a bad idea." You bite your lip and your phone weighs heavy in the pocket of your jeans. The three of you called in on your off days and for what? To be threatened to be fired over a stupid fan con. You let your eyes do a once over of that vile pig Katsuki who's toned arms are exposed for the summer sun although he wears a black tank top and black shorts. Scarlet eyes notice you looking and when you meet them it earns you a snarl before a suck of his teeth.

You roll your own as the Director breaks some of the palpable tension in the air.

"You're doing this for your fans. Do you not like your fans?" He is tight lipped as he speaks, leaning back in his chair as his eyes bore further into you.

"I love my female fans." You cross your arms. You don't realize the effect of your action, your breasts resting over your toned arms, causing them to spill over your black tank top. Izuku notices with a blush before looking away while the ash blonde stares for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"And your male fans?" Director Yami asks.

"Well let's look at the statistics of the general make up of my fans." You pull out your phone, it feels heavy as a brick in your hands as you log in, "Since you refused to do the demographic the first time we spoke of this convention I'm using my Instagram as a basis."

"It can't be that bad." Katsuki rolls his eyes as he leans back in his chair. Anger quickly melting to boredom.

"I hope you get stalked while we are there." You grumble as you find your favorite and most innocent picture.

"Wait which one? Your offical hero insta or your personal one where you're half dressed?" Yami asks in an even tone to which you still reacte violently. Like pure sodium in water.

"And what of Bakabaku and your angel child Deku?! On their own OFFICAL pages they are half naked in 75% of their pictures. Posing shirtless and in bathing suits. My posting of bathing suits and an occasional basic ass looking out at the view on my balcony in underwear and a large shirt is half dressed? BUT BLATANT MALE NIPPLE ISN'T?"

You flash your phone in his face with a picture of Katsuki at a photoshoot for a hero magazine. He looks cocky as hell with his head slightly titled, looking down at the camera with a crooked smirk, pushing his hair back with one hand, as fresh water droplets fall from ashen tips and glowing skin. The director blinks furiously at the image as you pull back your phone to look up your own page once more for comments and people's profiles.

"I'll start by reading some comments from my 'fans' aloud," You clear your throat as you start, "'Damn sugar tits why is your ass so phat.' 'Bb you is thiccccccccc' 'Bitch you finna take this cock?'"

Katsuki grinds his teeth as you read, each comment pushing him to further agitation.

"Now ask me what the picture is of."

"Gotta be you in your hero suit at the very least." Bakugou hisses as he looks away disinterested.

"No. It's a fucking selfie with a fan and our peace signs." You show him the phone and his scarlet eyes dance over the image. A rare and true smile caught on plump lips with two slender fingers brought beneath your eye, "This is the dude who commented the last one!"

The director, Izuku and Katsuki all cringe away from the glass. Izuku even seemingly uncomfortable after looking at the profile.

"They are all basement dwellers that live with their momma. I mean look at this dude. His profile picture is an anime bitch and his only photo of him self is a selfie WHERE THE LIGHT FROM HIS SIX MONITORS IS ILLUMINATING HIS FACE!!" You become heated at the end, angry that you have to scroll through these comments on the daily and block literally thousands of users that just make new accounts to harass you with. Heated enough that you lose the reigns on your quirk and everything not anchored down in the room begins to float as your eyes bore into the screen.

The glass splits from the weight of your gaze before shattering to nothing but shards and interworkings leaving you huffing. The table and unoccupied chairs slam back to the floor. Forcing you into an unpleasant reality where three sets of eyes gaze upon you.

Watching

Waiting

*Judging*

Once you realize you've lost control you blush furiously, hands flying to your lap to play with some frayed black denim on your shorts. Anything to keep your eyes averted.

Katsuki clears his throat and the Director is pulled from whatever spooked trance he was in.

"Izuku and Katsuki will be there to ensure there are no wandering hands. Right boys?"

"Who the fuck you calling boy you're like what 28? A couple years older than us and suddenly we're boys?" Katsuki spits, eyes instinctively finding you.

His stomach clenches when he sees the look on your face and he grinds his teeth, agitated all over again. Why the fuck are you making that face over some shit betas? You could kick their ass any day so why do you look so....

Afraid?

Before he can answer the dumbass question that damn Deku steals the words right out of his mouth.

"Of course we will protect Y/N." Deku sounds confident and full on in hero mode as if he were saving a damsel like he did everyday.

Unkownlingly making you feel worse. Furious and frustrated tears at your own helplessness prick your eyes. No one notices.

No one but a crimsom set of eyes, who speaks with out thinking.

"She won't need our protecting but I guess yea we can be there." His voice is so gruff when he speaks and yet his words bring you, oddly enough, some comfort. When normally even just the sound of him sucking his teeth has your skin crawling.

"Tejina we'll get you a new phone. Ground Zero, Deku you are dismissed. Plane leaves at 0800 hours tomorrow so please be packed and suited. The first day you'll be free to walk around and enjoy the con for a few hours before interviews take place. The second day will be packed as well with interviews and meet and greets."

The three of you fight some sort of emotion as he speaks. Izuku worry of letting his fans down, Katsuki agitation of the KYAAAAs he's bound to hear while you feel an emotion you are quick to overcome but for whatever reason cannot in this case, fear.

Bone grinding fear of a repeat.

The director's voice is drowned out as old, much too familar sounds, echo in your head. Foot steps that are much too sloppy and close. Glass shattering in dead silence pulling you from a deep sleep and screaming.

Lots of screaming.

××××××××××××××

Sleeping did not come easy for you that night further encouraging your intense irritation. You are the first to arrive on the still heated tarmac from yesterday's sun. Hinting about how miserable today was going to be. You took in a deep breath to soothe yourself before getting onto the private jet, just as the calming effect was setting in nails on a chalk board seemed to personify behind you.

"Oi. Did you forget how to use steps or are you gonna walk there?" You did not need to turn around to know who it was. You take an extra moment with your held breath, trying so so so hard to bite your tongue.

But like all things when it came to your temper towards him you could not.

"Walking thousands of miles would be preferable than to be sharing any sort of confined space with you." You snap stepping up two of the three steps before stopping, "In fact I would much rather this plane crash than share it with you."

Katsuki stares up at you with narrowed eyes before giving the small of your back a light push.

"Fucking same but sadly our careers are on the line if we dont make it to this convention in one piece." He bites out, urging you onto the plane as one would attempt to guide a cat. A unspoken standstill begins to unfold until the glaring match is cut short by someone clearing their throat.

"P..please glare at one another on the plane. Please." He says the magic word twice. Hoping it will have double the effect of you two being civil. Your eyes cut to shining emeralds and all you can think of is Director Yami punishing the three of you. When really it should only be the two active parties in this weird hate fueled relationship. Guilt causes you to forfeit and swallow your pride for just this weekend as you trudge up the last stepz claiming a seat by the window. Katuski opens the overhead and shoves his one and only black duffle bag into the vast amount of space before he begins sliding off his obnoxious grenade gauntlets. Placing those much more gently into the overhead.

Having you wonder with half curiosity if they are already filled with his fuel and if they are how much of a push would you need to apply in order for one to erupt. Izuku sitting across from you pulls your mind from that petty and dark place as he offers you a soft smile.

"I'm excited to see my friends from 1A." He beams to you and you smile knowingly. He must have forgotten his drunken night out with you. He told you all about class 1A. About him and Katsuki fighting, of all the fun they had. He even asked for you help so he could talk to a special girl from his class.

"Excited to see your friends or excited to see a certain *one* of your friends?" You tease, relishing over his quickly heating face as he must be relieving the night. Your question earns an almost approving snort from Bakugou as he finally takes his seat in the opposite of the aisle window seat. He digs into his pocket for his phone as he begins to sync the black over the ear head phones that rest on his neck.

"Ah..that's not it.." He tried to force a laugh and it comes out obviously fake, he attempts to divert the conversation from himself, "You haven't seen Kirishima in while right Kaachan?"

Izuku's face somehow deepens in hue as he slams his hands over his mouth having not slipped up like that in quite some time. All the while the air in the cabin seems to become charged from his mistake. You either do not notice or do not care.

"Kaachan?" You look to Midoriya and then Bakugou before slowly piecing it together, "Oh that's right you two grew up together. Man that's so fucking cute that you still call him that."

Katsuki steers his glare to you as you hold eyes with Izuku. For reasons he cannot place his rage melts to slight irritation as you finish your sentence. His ears picking up on the word cute as he watches your face form that rare true smile.

The one that makes the room seem to glow and his heart seem to race.

Race with aggravation that is but still he watches you.

"You should call him that more often. Right Kaachan?" You aim that smile at him unconsciously. He studies it for a moment before slipping his headphones up over his ears.

"Tch. Whatever." He blasts his favorite song and faces away from the two of you, not wanting either of you to see his red cheeks.

The plane ride is not as long as you now wanted it to be. You enjoyed hearing the stories from your good friend Izuku as you had not gotten the pleasure of going to UA. You had gone to a small hero academy and did not make a single friend. Too busy perfecting and controlling your quirk.

Katsuki rolls his eyes as he catches the tail end of a story, popping open the overhead to slip on his gear.

"We had so much fun. Didn't we Kaa...Katsuki?" He corrects himself last minute and your face becomes crestfallen. For some reason you liked the nickname and wanted to hear it more often. Whether it was because you knew it agitated Bakabaku with the way his broad shoulders would tense even when similar syllables left Izuku-kun's lips or maybe it was because it some how gave the hot head a very small, almost microscopic, boyish charm.

That he would have someone in his life to admire him enough to give him nice nickname. You sigh pulling at the straps of your bookbag as you three make your way across the tarmac. More than ready to get these three days of hell behind you.

A/N lol why yes this is a fourth series I've started. Why no, others are not completed yet. Why do you ask? Because I hate trying to end things with out it feeling rushed.

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 4)

My Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: Bucky has a lot of suspicions. Becca had the answers he needed.

Word Count: 6122

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Nurse!Wanda x Platonic!Reader, Nurse!MJ, Doctor!Sam (mentioned)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse & Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay, Blood

A/N: Sorry not sorry. Naynay, don’t kill me!

Being in and out of consciousness for God knows how long was certainly not something you were fond of. Not only were you completely unaware of what time of day it was or even what day it was for that matter, you were starting the hate the numbness that had been brought to you by the patient-control analgesia. Even the pain in your abdomen had become bearable now, but that did not help with the emotional distress that came with the numbness either.

When you had woken up from your drug-induced slumber, you had been greeted by an indescribable darkness that had blanketed over your hospital room. The lack of sunshine peaking through the gaps between the curtains were reason enough for you to assume that it was now nightfall. Your first instinct had been to turn over to your side towards the chair next to your bed, a part of you hoping that the man who had been sitting by your bedside when you had fallen asleep was still there. But much to your disappointment, he wasn’t.

You let out a soft groan at the pain that you felt on your side, thankful that the numbness was finally starting to dissolve. You hoped that would give you enough time to feel like a functioning human being for once before the next programmed dosage kicks in.

“Y/N?” The sound of a tired Sam Wilson calling out your name made you let out a sigh. “Are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You reached your hand up to rub your eyes, letting out another groan. “W-Wilson.” You croaked out, your throat had been dry every single time you woke up and you hated it. “Where’s Barnes?”

MJ had been at your bedside within seconds of you pressing your call button for a nurse. “Dr. Y/L/N, you’re awake.” She gave you a warm smile that showed a sense of relief, her coffee-induced talkative sense taking over her in an instant. “I mean, of course I knew that. Dr. Wilson told me that you woke up just before he was paged down to the ER, but I wasn’t going to come in here unless you called me. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you want me to page Dr. Parker for you? He’s on call right now, probably just crashing in an on call room. Or Dr. Romanoff, she’s not in but I can call her too if you need-”

“MJ.” You cut her off as you let out a weak chuckle, wincing slightly at the pain that followed. “The pain’s a little better now but I’m still feeling a little loopy so... I probably won’t be pumping any drugs into my body until the next scheduled dosage. You can start off by telling me what day it is and... can you please get me some water? My throat’s really dry.”

“Oh... sorry.” She was quick to grab your plastic cup and reach over to the sink, filling it up just before the brim before bringing it over to you.

You took the straw between your chapped lips and sipped rather slowly, feeling the water soothe its way down your throat.

“Why haven’t you turned the light on?” You heard the familiar voice of Wanda Maximoff echo through your room as you saw her silhouette by the doorframe. She reached over to turn on the light and you quickly shut your eyes, bringing your hand up to your eyes to shield them from the newfound brightness. “Go home, MJ. I’ve got it from here.”

The younger nurse took the cup away from your mouth once you let go of the straw. “Alright! Goodnight, Wanda. Wait, it’s morning but... ugh, fuck it!” She laughed softly before stomping out of the room.

You let out another chuckle as you winced, moving your hand away from your face now that your eyes were used to the light. You turned over to look at Wanda, who was holding your chart, probably writing down very detailed notes for Romanoff to see during morning rounds. “I must admit I missed you.” You told her as you gave her a weak smile.

“Oh sweetheart...” She set down your chart for a moment before reaching over your bed, gently wrapping her arms around you, still careful not to mess with the wires and tubes that were still attached to your body. Wanda Maximoff had always been a hugger and a good one at that. Even though you might come off as someone who did not enjoy such physical displays of affection, your touch-deprived self had been very appreciative of her hugs and she knew that. “I was just down the hall to check on your father. He’s doing alright, he’s stable, not in a lot of pain and he hasn’t really shown any signs of rejection. He’s... right on the road to recovery.”

You let out a sigh of relief as she pulled back from the hug. “That’s good.” You told her softly, though a part of you was glad that your risky sacrifice had not gone to waste. “Thanks, Wanda.”

Not even a good night’s sleep, three loads of laundry and an early morning workout at the gym had been enough to distract Bucky’s mind from the woman in the post-op ward. At first, he had felt a ping of guilt at the thought of not being there if you had woken up and asked for him. Even his assumption that you would ask for him when you woke up had made him realize how hopeless he was. But he could not help it. He had fallen in love with you, like from that John Green novel his youngest sister had once been obsessed with, slowly and then all at once.  

He had managed to call Sam, who was on call that night, and pester him to check on you every now and then. But when a concerned yet slightly annoyed Dr. Wilson had threatened to block his number, while still checking on you nevertheless, Bucky had found himself crashing on his king-sized bed and having a little faith in the hospital staff as he had promised Wanda. No one would let any harm come to you, or so he thought, and he would see you when he returned to work after all.

Despite the fact that he hadn’t set an alarm, he found himself waking up before dawn as always. Perhaps it was the fact that his own body had been so used to such early morning wake up calls, but sleeping into the afternoon had always been a rarity for Bucky no matter how late he had fallen asleep.

Nevertheless, the moment he awoke from his slumber, his first instinct had been to check his phone for any messages from the hospital. He had threatened Dr. Peter Parker, the resident on your transplant team, to contact him in case anything had happened to you while he was not by your bedside. Seeing no messages from the young surgeon made him sigh in relief. But that did not stop Bucky from being worried. After all, his sister had just returned from Philadelphia and from what she had texted him last night, she had found some concerning information that she wanted to share with him.

If any of his friends had found out about what he had done, they would probably label his actions a result of his paranoia; Sam would have called it pure insanity. But Bucky would probably prefer the more rational term: suspicion. He had been feeling suspicious for a while now, ever since the day he had found you breaking down in the supply room on the cardiac floor.

“Y/L/N?” Dr. James Barnes’ eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the familiar female’s sobs that escaped from behind a shelf that held unopened packages of cardiac catheters.

Of course, this hadn’t been the first time he had found you like that. But he knew you well enough to know that you did not break down in tears that easily. He was aware that you had dealt with more than a fair share of struggles over the years, but that had made you tough. You were a strong woman, he noted. So, if something had made you cry, then it had to have been something very serious. It wasn’t that easy to break Y/N Y/L/N.

You sat on the cold tiled floor of the supply room, your back against a shelf as you pulled your knees up to your chest. You could not help the sobs that left your chest, your cheeks puffy, red and stained with tears as you looked up. “J-James?” You quickly wiped away your tears with the sleeve of the waffle-knit Henley you wore under your navy blue scrub shirt, springing to your feet before coming face to face with the dark haired surgeon.

“Are you alright, doll?” He asked, his lips curling into a frown as a look of concern blanketed over his features when he stepped over to you. His icy blue eyes were filled with a genuine worry that not even the strands of his greasy black hair could veil. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head quickly before shrugging your shoulders, forcing yourself to smile a fake smile that you hoped would be convincing enough, though you may have been wrong about that. He had already heard you cry and no smile can make him believe otherwise. Besides, Bucky Barnes knew you well enough to know when even a smile of yours is genuine or when it was not. He was always the first to notice these things. “Nothing, I’m just... tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day.”

He furrowed his brows as he looked down at you, clearly not convinced by your facade. His eyes were soft but the tone of his voice rather stern. It was as though he was stuck between the roles of the senior doctor, the close friend and the man who had fallen in love with you, not knowing which role to play at a time like this.  “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

Bucky had always been able to distinguish himself between his roles though. He had a way of separating his personal and professional lives in order to keep him sane. There was Bucky and then there was Dr. Barnes.

Dr. Barnes would always wear his navy blue scrubs, his hair hanging loose that he usually tucked under his scrub cap when he was at surgery. Bucky, when he’s not in his ‘operating mode’, usually tied his hair up into a small messy man bun. He wore skinny jeans and plaid shirts when he was out and when he was at home, he wore sweat pants and Henley’s. Even his closet had been arranged in a way to accommodate this.

He followed this rule almost religiously though, except for that one time when Dr. Barnes showed up to a board meeting with his hair tied up in a bun with a Hello Kitty hair tie because he let one of his pediatric patients tie it up for him. Dr. Rogers would go on to say that this had been the most human that he had ever seen his surgical robot of a friend; perhaps until the day his beloved mentee had announced that she was donating her liver to her estranged father.

But now the man had found himself a third role, the role of James, Y/N’s James. He did not know what that role entailed, whether he was the colleague or the friend, but he knew that this was the part of him that had fallen in love with her. This was the part of him that was longing to be a part of her life, if she would let him. This was the part of him that was the most human – the better version of him.

You shook your head as you tried to find a way out of his query, only to fail at your own attempts. “No, James... I’m-”

“You’ve been crying.” He had cut you off. “And don’t even try telling me that you weren’t. I heard you, doll.” He had caught you red-handed, after all. There was no way you could hide this from him, or anyone else for that matter.

“I...” You looked down at your feet, noticing that the laces had come undone in your blue tennis shoes. But you could care less about your shoes right now. You had bigger things to worry about, like the life of the man who had given you yours. And at that thought, you broke down once more, feeling your knees grow weak as you slid down against the shelf to sit back down on the floor. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your head between them, not holding back the sobs in the presence of this doctor.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Bucky frowned at the sight of you, feeling his heart break to see you in tears. He knelt down in front of you, his soft hands holding your wrists as your hands rested on top of your knees. “Hey... talk to me, doll. You can tell me anything.”

You had always been hesitant to talk about how you felt with others, except to Dr. Rhodes who happened to be the in-house psychiatrist for the hospital staff. One thing that you had learned the hard way from your previously failed friendships was that there was a fine line between sharing and over-sharing. You did not want to cross this line, for that line had ended many friendships for you. It was why you had been so cautious of how close you got with everyone at the hospital.

But keeping your distance from James was not an option for you either. He sounded genuinely concerned for you and his offer had only made you realize how desperately you needed a friend at that moment. Perhaps, using this opportunity to find some clarity about your situation would not be that bad. He was a surgeon, after all. He had dealt with dying patients and their crying loved ones. He would not turn away from you or turn you away at a time of need either. A qualified medical professional, he was. You could trust him as that.

You continued to cry as Bucky took a seat next to you on the floor, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. How much of a loner had you been your whole life that even the slightest act of affection had brought you solace? How desperate must you have been for human contact, for you felt calm from the way his hand was rubbing your back in a rather soothing manner. Your touch-starved self could not help but allow yourself to lay your head gently against his shoulder, continuing to cry. “R-Romanoff... has a patient, who came in with... stage 4... cirrhosis.” You croaked out in-between sobs. “She was... telling me how... this patient was from... N-New Hope, Pennsylvania... because she knows that... it’s my hometown and... she was like... it’s a small town, just over two thousand people... and everyone knows... everyone so... Nat asked me if I... maybe knew this man and... she tells me his name... James, i-it’s... it’s my dad... h-he’s...” Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt another sob.

He bit down on his bottom lip as he continued to gently rub your back, trying to calm you down while pondering what you had just told him. “Oh Y/N...” He frowned. You rarely spoke about your parents or your childhood spent in a small town near Philadelphia. But from what he knew about your past, which only Steve had also known, he concluded that things must not have been great for you. Perhaps that was why he was starting to worry about this revelation. “How do you know it’s him, doll?” He asked. “Did you go and see him?”

You shook your head. “N-No... I-I couldn’t... I... checked his file. The information... his date of birth, the home address... it’s the same. It’s the house I grew up in.” You replied as you let out a sigh. “It’s him.”

“But... how did they-”

“I haven’t... spoken to my parents... since I left... NYU.” You hadn’t realized that you had cut him off as you spoke, still sobbing between your words. “I sent my mom... an invite... to my med school graduation... but she didn’t show. I just thought that I would never... see them again... you know? But now they’re here... in this hospital and... I don’t know, James. I feel awful... for not being there for them.” A successful cardiothoracic surgeon at one of the best hospitals in all of New York, but you had no idea that your own father had been ill. You may have had your reasons to leave home when you did but you were doing much better now. Why couldn’t you get yourself to go back home and at least try to make amends with your parents? Perhaps if you had done that sooner, you would have known about your father’s disease a lot sooner and you could have actually gotten him the treatment he needed before things had gotten out of control. “He’s going on the transplant list... I just can’t believe... I missed so much shit in my parents’ life.”

“Y/N, come on, you can’t beat yourself up for that.” Bucky told you as he let out a sigh. “You had a reason to leave home and cut ties with your parents. Besides, if you did reach out to your mother and she didn’t respond, then you losing touch with them is not your fault, doll.”

“But... I was supposed to be better, James.”

He could not say anything when you had said that. He bit down on his bottom lip once more, his hand still wrapped around your shoulder as he held you close to him. Your heads barely touched as he moved his hair away from his face, cautious that a few strands might land on your forehead as he let you lean against him. “How did they... how did they get all the way to Brooklyn from your small town?” He asked, curiously. Bucky was sure that there were many competent hospitals in Philadelphia. Yet the fact that your father had been admitted at the hospital where you worked seemed to be far from a coincidence to him.

He had found out about your history with parental abuse a few years ago, when you had approached him and Steve regarding your suspicion that one of your pediatric patients was being abused. Bucky had been there to support you when you had contacted Child Protective Services and through the whole process that followed. He had helped you and your patient with the formalities before you had come clean to him about your own abuse.

The revelation had caused Bucky to shut down for a few days and he had once again become consumed with guilt for having grown up with so much privilege. Despite the fact that both of his parents worked long hours, they had done their best at being parents. They weren’t perfect, but they had loved all four of their children dearly and made sure they knew how much they were loved. He could not even imagine how any parent could intentionally hurt their child or how anyone could endure such a thing during their childhood and still turn out to be the strongest, kindest, most genuine soul to walk the earth.

No wonder your walls were so hard to tear down. But he could not help but wish that he could eventually do just that. He was falling even further for you. He wanted to shower you with love because that was what you deserved, even though a part of him knew that you might never let him. After all, you still did not think that you deserved to be loved.

“Apparently, he’s seen multiple doctors in Philly before coming here. Natasha said that his previous doctor had read about her study and referred them to her.” You replied with a shrug. “No, they don’t. I had told my mom that I had been matched to do my residency at New York Presbyterian but I did not tell them that I moved to Brooklyn.”

And that was the start of Bucky’s suspicion. He could not help but wonder whether your folks had known about you working here before they showed up. He had no reason to trust them, after all. While they were your parents, it was clear that they hadn’t done the best job at that. While you would not bother to share anything regarding your past, he could not help but continue to be suspicious regarding your parents’ intentions behind them coming to Brooklyn.

Of course, he could not control your actions. He had to sit back and watch as you eventually decided to approach them and offered to get tested to see if you liver would match your father’s. But that still left Bucky with so many unanswered questions, unanswered questions that you could answer for him but he knew that you would not.

He wanted to protect you, in case things did get to that point where you needed to be protected. In order to do that, he needed to know what he would be protecting you from. The only way to do that had been through looking into you and your parents through a private investigator. And that was exactly what he had done when he picked up the phone called his sister last week, asking her to find out your history with your parents in case they intended to hurt you again.

When Rebecca Barnes had first received a phone call from her big brother, she was certainly surprised. Sure, the two of them still had a very close relationship. But it was rare for Bucky to ask her for a favour, let alone a favour that had to do with a certain female colleague of his.

Bucky had not directly told anyone about his feelings for you, even though almost everyone at the hospital seemed to have figured it out. Perhaps he hadn’t been the best at hiding his true intentions with you. But he had told Becca right away that he was in love with you and that was why he needed her help.

The woman was shocked at her brother’s confession to say the least. But she was also happy that he had finally found himself a woman he actually had feelings for. After all, she knew that his love life had been pretty much non-existent since he was in college. He had been quite the Casanova while he was at NYU, but as he grew older, Bucky had grown and been molded into a proper workaholic who barely had time to date. Even when Becca had tried to set him up with her friends, the over-working surgeon had managed to ditch his dates in the name of surgical emergencies. Some of those times were actually legitimate while others were just excuses.

Nevertheless, Becca had gone out of her way to find out whatever Bucky felt that he needed to know. It had only taken her less than a week to map out the woman’s entire life but from what she had found out about this Y/N Y/L/N, she could not help but feel truly sorry. “You might want to sit down for this, Buck.” She told her brother as she set down her briefcase on the coffee table, opening it to retrieve several foolscap files. “It’s going to be a wild ride from start to finish.”

Bucky let out a sigh as he sat down on his couch, fresh out of his post-work out shower and in the midst of towel-drying his mane. “How bad is it, Becca?” He asked her as he bit down on his bottom lip rather nervously. He feared what he was about to find out but he did not regret that he had taken this step.

“I had to work backwards, since I started my investigation by meeting with the Chief of Surgery at New York Presbyterian Hospital and then the Dean at NYU Med. Although I ended my investigation in New Hope, I think we should start there... at the very beginning.” She suggested, completely ignoring his question. Becca could care less about how nervous she was making him feel. After all, it was his idea to have her conduct an investigation that could potentially be illegal. It was certainly a violation of your privacy if anything. “Y/N Y/L/N was born in New Hope, Pennsylvania... it’s a really small town, like the ones you would see on a TV show where everyone just knows everyone. I was able to get a copy of the hospital records that show her mother being admitted while she was in labor. Sorry, I couldn’t get a copy of her birth certificate. That’s... kind of illegal.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” He huffed as he rolled his eyes. “Why would you even bother with that in the first place? I asked you to look into her parents.”

“You told me to be thorough with my investigation, Buck.” She scoffed as she set the hospital records in front of him. “Anyways, I also have school records and what not. But you might feel like those are irrelevant so...” She picked up another folder. “Her father owned a restaurant around the time she was born. It was apparently going really well for a few years, thanks to the town’s booming tourism industry. But the townspeople say that Mr. Y/L/N had an altercation with his chef and ended up firing him. Everything went downhill after that. He eventually went on to file bankruptcy... I got the court documents right here.”

Bucky picked up the documents and skimmed through them, only to notice that you would have been around seven years old when your father had filed for bankruptcy. “Shit...” He let out a sigh as he looked up at Becca. “That wasn’t even the worst part, was it?”

Rebecca shook her head as she let out a sigh. “The family lost pretty much everything after that. Her mom had managed to find herself a job as a maid in a motel but her dad was unemployed. I think the stress of losing his business really took a toll on him. The people I spoke to... they said that’s when he started drinking excessively.” She paused for a moment, allowing Bucky to connect the dots between the past and the present. “I even spoke to the guy who owns the local bar. Apparently, the man showed up every day before noon and left late at night.”

“And they just kept serving him alcohol for hours on end?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. A part of him was pissed at how one thing had led to another and now you were the one paying the price for it.

“Small towns businesses only give a shit about making profit, Bucky.” She told him with a shrug. “But one thing was clear. No one really likes the Y/L/N’s. They’re pretty much known to be rude and... blamed the entire town for how they lost their business.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” He admitted, shrugging. “They couldn’t care any less about their own daughter, for crying out loud.”

“Well, it wasn’t until their sixteen year old daughter went missing for an entire night did the town realize just how fucked up they were.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide when his sister had said that. “What?!”

Becca bit down on her bottom lip as she pulled out another file, this one being quite thicker than the last ones. “I have a copy of the police report that was filed the next morning. It says that the Y/L/N’s sixteen year old daughter had gone missing. Mom said that she came home from school and hopped in the shower. The water was running for a few hours before she realized that her daughter wasn’t in there... and her bedroom window was open. She had jumped out the window in the middle of a snowstorm.”

“In the middle of a snowstorm?!” He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide at the realization of what that meant. He remembered the words you had said to him that that night when the two of you were leaving the shelter. I know how it feels to be out here in the cold… no food, no warm clothes, nowhere to go. The uncertainty of whether you would get through the night and into the next morning, it’s… the worst feeling in the world and… I just wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Bucky leaned back in his seat as he rubbed his eyes, not knowing how to process what he had just heard. If he had trouble even doing that, he wondered how you had managed to live through it all. A part of him felt a newfound sense of respect for you, while another part of him suffered vicariously as he heard what had happened to you. “She ran away from them.”

She gave him a nod. “She tried to run away from home but it was a rather spontaneous attempt. She didn’t have any proper clothes or money, no escape plan whatsoever. She had sneaked into her school to keep herself warm and her science teacher... who happened to be there to set up for the school dance the next day had found her crying in the girls’ bathroom. Y/N spent the night at the teacher’s house before Child Protective Services had been called... and she was taken out of her home.”

Bucky was silent, not knowing what to say. All he could remember was that night when he had seen you at the shelter and then the day you had told him about being abused by your parents. He hadn’t realized the extent of it all until now. He felt sick to his stomach just at the thought of how vile it all seemed. And the fact that you had come forward to donate a piece of your liver to the man who had ruined his own life as much as he did yours, he could not help but shed a few tears. “Fuck... she never told me... or any of us... about any of this.” He said as he sighed, still leaning back in his seat as he cried. “She may have mentioned bits and pieces of her past over the years but...”

“Because this is not something you tell everyone you meet, Buck.”

“You know, I’ve always wondered why she was so... closed off. When she first came to the hospital, she was this really determined... feisty... kick ass surgeon. All she ever cared about was work. She would study her ass off and when Steve or Nat would invite her over for drinks, she would turn them down. For someone who’s been through so much shit, Y/N was extremely focused with everything she did... excelled in surgery, had really good judgement... knew when to ask for help. Who would have known how much pain was behind all of that? Even I didn’t know how bad it had been for her.”

“You are right about that.” Becca sighed as she reached over to put her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Y/N was a very... focused and determined sixteen year old who had clear judgement, knew that she was being abused and knew when to remove herself from that. She knew when to seek help. After she was taken out of her home, she  spent the next two years in the system. She didn’t move around a lot though. She was apparently very well behaved. She lived with a foster family in Philly until she was eighteen. She was not... looking for trouble, per say. Her foster mom said that she was a really good kid... traumatized but also... determined. She never skipped school, never missed her weekly therapy sessions, never went out with friends, always home and doing homework, stayed on top of her chores. She was a straight A student, it was even a surprise to her teachers... how much she was thriving once she left her parents. And then she was accepted to NYU for pre-med.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a small smile at the thought of how much you had thrived after leaving your hometown.

“She was in the system so she was eligible for funding but she also got a lot of scholarships because she had really good grades. She still worked three jobs while in school... an on campus job as an office assistant, a retail job... and a waitress at a diner in Lower Manhattan. She was on top of her class at NYU, valedictorian. She aced her MCATs, got into NYU Med and... she kept thriving. The Dean himself had written her a reference when she matched with the residency program at New York Presbyterian. The Chief of Surgery calls her a machine... always getting the job done, taking no shit from any of her competition. She was Chief Resident, top of her class again... chose heart surgery as her specialty. The Chief had been the one who recommended her to Steve. She just... she was an unstoppable force.” His sister told him. “She’s... a really amazing person, Buck.”

“I know.” He agreed. “She really... turned her life around after leaving her parents.”

“Speaking of her parents, I found something about them that you might find very... suspicious.” She told him as she handed him another file. “Her mom lost her job at the hotel a few months ago and they don’t have insurance. Seeing multiple doctors in Philly, being treated for liver disease... you know the numbers, Buck. They still have outstanding medical bills in Philly. I don’t think they could afford Brooklyn Hospital or a high profile surgeon like Natasha Romanoff. I don’t think Nat’s all about doing pro-bono either. I wonder how they’re going to pay for all of this because... I’m pretty sure a liver transplant is expensive as fuck.”

Bucky’ eyes grew wide as he looked down at the stack of outstanding hospital bills that Becca had just handed him. “Holy shit... they totally knew what they were doing, didn’t they? I fucking knew it wasn’t a coincidence! I fucking knew it!” While a part him was relieved that his suspicions had been right, he was still horrified by what he and his sister had just figured out. “They tracked her down...”

Wanda Maximoff had always been quite observant. She had a knack for noticing the smallest things, whether it was a slight change in her patients that needed to be noted down on their charts or the slight change of attitude in her friend Bucky’s attitude towards you that could only mean only one thing. But she had always noticed things.

Perhaps it was the way a sleep deprived Dr. Wilson had tried to flirt with Sharon Carter at the nurse’s desk that had distracted her. But Wanda had found herself in the midst of laughter when your mother had exited your father’s hospital room and made her way towards yours. She had been distracted from keeping a close eye on your room that she had failed to notice your mother enter your room, while you were alone and in pain. But most importantly, you had been wide awake.

Thankfully, Wanda had noticed your mother leaving your room swiftly and she had sprung to her feet. “Sam.” She had quickly alerted the doctor, who had also noticed your mother. Neither of them had any idea how long she had been in your room, not that it mattered really. But the moment she heard you shriek in pain and call out to her, Wanda knew that something was wrong.

Sam had sprinted down the hallway to your room as he heard you cry. “Y/N!”

“Sam...” You yelped in pain, in the midst of the never-ending tears, as you looked down at your side to see the crimson shade of your blood spreading across the hospital gown. “I jerked... and the steri strips... came off... the wound opened up, I can’t...” The pain medications had worn off completely, making you feel every bit of pain that you could have felt. “Fuck!”

This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; the words expressly are 'a pound of flesh.

[ayma-nidiot]

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 32

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 32 - God-Shattering Star

“Oh, cry me a river, Rex!” Weevil glanced to the battle below; many of the Club members had already died. Joey, Mai, Yugi, Téa, Tristan, Atem, and Duke were the only fighters who hadn’t sustained any serious injuries against the massive Earthbound army. Even Phuckdis and William were riddled with gashes, yet refused to retreat with Dr. Balls. “So your allies still cling to life like a drowning man onto a rock. Cute. Not that it will do any of you any good!”

“Rex…” Mako crawled on the floor; luckily for him, Espa retreated from the battle before he got hurt at all. “Don’t listen to him! You’re… hah… You’re the only one who can… save us…”

“Mako, don’t…” It was just then that after recalling the fight with Nortius, Rex had an idea. “Wait a second, Amber.”

“Papa, what is it?”

“I want to try something out. Why don’t we try fusing, just like Mako did with Jinzo?”

“But we don’t even have Polymerization! Those who do either are incapacitated or otherwise occupied! And you can’t even fly… If you fell to your death just like Kaiba, and all because of a stupid and ill-timed experiment, I…”

“Argh, we’ll both die anyway if we do nothing!” Rex pumped his fists in the air. “Show a little bit more Raptor spirit, why don’t you?”

“Papa… Okay. I trust you.” So Amber spoke as she half-shifted, and Rex began a long freefall.

“You really are a blooming idiot, aren’t you?” Weevil would have laughed longer, but stopped when he saw Rex glow pink. “So you think you can- Huh?”

“What’s… What’s happening to my boy?” Ptera wondered as Spinos tended to her wounds.

“Don’t tell me…” Phuckdis began. “Rex is…”

Before Rex could fall very far, Amber had completely fused with him, and he grew angel’s wings that soon turned into Rabidragon’s wings. Even if only by a little bit, the gloomy weather began to dissipate, replaced by an enormous pink glow at the top of KaibaCorp Tower. 

“What is the meaning of this?” The shining presence of Rex - with his bow, fluffy white shirt, golden pants, and Rabidragon’s ears and tail - intimidated Weevil. “Just who do you think you are, that you can challenge me? Well, no matter! I’ll kill you right here, as I intended to do from the beginning! Take this!” 

“...” Rex didn’t say anything as he simply held his bow at his side, and grabbed the chain whip before it could hurt him.

“It’s… Impossible! Aaaah!” Weevil reeled backwards when Rex threw him. “How can a weak rabbit like you stand up to me? ”

“It’s because…” Phuckdis made his presence known. “Rex is the true God-Shattering Star.”

William bowed in reverence with his brother and the remaining members of the Club. “He is the light that will save us all.”

Espa could still see Weevil and Rex, even from his hospital room. “Is that you, Rex Raptor?”

Joey looked up at Rex’s true form with a hint of jealousy. “That’s more powerful than anything I could cook up with the Claw of Hermos. I suppose that runt isn’t as weak as I thought him to be.”

Rex finally opened his now-crimson eyes and began to speak in a distorted voice. “Weevil… No, Earthbound God Sanpedro. I will kill you, right here and now, and free my beloved Weevil Underwood from your clutches.”

“So now you want me to die? That’s rich! What a fool. Come on, boy, come try me!”

“Hey, let me help too!” When Joey rushed up to Rex, he could feel an invisible barrier push him backwards. 

“Joey, this is my fight alone. Why don’t you just take out the small fry and let a pro handle this?”

“Hahaha!” Despite the fact that there were still several hundred Earthbound soldiers left, Joey couldn’t help but laugh. “Even when he’s some almighty angel… god... thing, he’s still definitely that silly Rex Raptor. Well, my dude, consider my morale boosted! You heard the man, guys!”

“H-How dare you address the God-Shattering Star that way?” Phuckdis was clearly offended. 

“Aww, come on, lighten up! Or you can just, I don’t know, sit there and relax while us duelists take care of the bad guys.”

“Or I can just, you know, show you just how strong us shapeshifters are!” Upon hearing Joey’s words, Phuckdis felt his strength anew, as did his brother. “I cannot fly, but that doesn’t mean I cannot fight!”

“Headstrong and reckless like your ‘God-Shattering Star.’” Duke chuckled. “Well, then, you better do a good job proving how strong you are!”

“You’re a poet and didn’t even know it!” Tristan quipped.

“You see, Weevil?” Rex stared at the nearly-soulless shell of his boyfriend. “You picked the wrong side to fight for. You have no friends there.”

“‘Friends,’ huh…” Weevil stared absentmindedly at the fighting below, especially at Joey and Atem. The chain whip rattled in his hands as he shook in anger. “Must be sooooo nice to have them! It must feel soooooo nice to be able to get palsy-walsy with people who didn’t give a shit about you just four years ago!”

“Weeves?!”

“You… YOU FUCKERS WILL ALL PAY!” Weevil dove as fast as he could, with all the anger he could muster ready to fuel his strike upon Atem.

“You coward! Get back here!” Rex couldn’t dive anywhere near that quickly, but tried to keep up as fast as his unborn baby would allow him, holding onto her for dear life.

“Eh?” Joey noticed Weevil coming for him before anyone else did, and braced himself with the Red-Eyes Black Dragon Sword. “Atem, look out!”

“Amulet Dragon, protect us!”

Weevil had originally planned to strike everyone in one blow with the chain whip. But being the deceptive little shit he was, he decided on a different mode of attack - bypassing all of the monsters and encasing his two most hated enemies in spider webs instead. “Ha! Syke!”

“Ggh!” Already, Joey was up to his neck in spider webs - yet for some strange reason, his sword arm remained free, as did the sword itself. The webs would not give way, no matter how hard or often he slashed at them.

“W-Weevil…” Atem could hardly talk, as the spider webs gripped his throat tightly. “I… I thought we were friends!”

“Me? Friends with you?! What a joke! Do you honestly expect me to believe a word of bullshit coming out of your mouth after the suffering you’ve caused me? Do you honestly think that after all you’ve done, I’d consider you a friend?” Weevil cackled as Atem writhed in pain. “If anything, you’re lower than the dirt underneath my feet!”

All the commotion awakened Heka. “F-Father… No! Dear gods, what’s happening to my father?”

“Boy! How does it feel to know that your father is no longer the King of Games?”

“Leave… him alone!” Heka flung a flimsy arm, releasing a ball of light that Weevil easily blocked. 

“Hmm… Nah, I think I’ll pass on that. In fact, I’d rather kill him before your very eyes!” Weevil approached Atem, with the intent to decapitate him with the chain whip. That was, until Rex blocked him in the nick of time, drawing Weevil’s attention away from his two captives. “Humph. It’s you again.”

“Damn right!” Rex’s smile faded when not long after he blocked the attack, his bow began to crumble. “Uh… Uh-oh…”

“Hah! Some ‘God-Shattering Star’ you turned out to be! Looks to me like you’re the one who’s shattered!” 

“Crud… I kind of need a weapon!” Rex picked up a sword from one of his fallen allies, but it was so weak that Weevil shattered it with his bare hands, grabbing Rex by the throat right after. “Ngh!”

“Before I kill you right here and now, tell me something, Rex. Why did you defend these guys?”

“B-Because… They’re… my… cough… cough…”

“They accepted you so easily, just because you play by the rules… Why is friendship such an easy thing for you, yet I could never make one friend? Why do Joey and Atem and literally everyone else in this fucking city love you and think I’M the worst duelist there ever was?”

“Don’t… Don’t I count, Weeves?” More than the iron grip of Weevil’s right hands, Weevil’s words hurt Rex. “And your own daughter? Have… cough… Have you already forgotten what we’ve all been through? We’re… willing to… forgive you… Just… Ugh!”

“Not another word out of you! The Earthbound Gods are the only friends I need now! Not you weaklings!” Ignoring the twinge of pain in his heart, Weevil lightly ran the chain whip over Rex’s left arm, barely enough to draw blood. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Weevil was so far gone into his own madness that Joey was certain he wouldn’t be able to hear him now. “Psst… Rex.”

“J-Joey?” Rex turned his head around, just enough to see Joey.

“You said… cough… that you needed a weapon, right?” Joey held up his sword arm. “Ya’ think this will be good enough?”

“That’s…!” Flashbacks of his Orichalcos duel flooded Rex’s mind. That’s the sword that sent my soul to the Great Leviathan! But if there’s no other choice, then…

“It’s now or never! Think fast!” Joey threw the Red-Eyes Black Dragon Sword at Rex, hoping to the gods he’d catch it and put it to good use.

“If that sword can’t cut the spider webs, then what makes you think that Rex will somehow magically put it to good use?”

Rex felt the sword land in his right hand, and had a clever idea. “By doing… this. ”

“G-Gaaaaah!” Weevil howled in pain when Rex did the unthinkable - completely cutting off his right arms and thereby freeing Atem and Joey from their bonds. He stared at Rex wide-eyes. “You would dare hurt me? Aren’t you scared of losing the love of your life?”

“Yes, I am.” Rex pointed the sword at Weevil’s face. “But the thing I’m even more scared of? Seeing Weevil Underwood beat himself up and become a destructive monster where a man once was.”

“Ugh, you were always so talkative!” Weevil flew higher and dove at Rex like a peregrine falcon. Rex took to the air as well and parried this attack with the sword, but not without some recoil. “Just one of the many things I hate about you!”

“Hah!” Rex repelled Weevil with the sword, enough to put a slight dent in the chain whip. “Your psychological tricks aren’t going to work on me now, Weevil!” 

“But maybe a variety of attacks can!” Weevil shot spider webs from his left hands that stuck to Rex’s butt-length hair and part of his shirt.

“Tch…” Rex didn’t like the sensation of sticky things in his hair, but grinned and bore it for now. “Am I supposed to be scared by the fact that you’re still part-spider?”

Weevil smirked as he barraged Rex with the chain whip. “Oh, I still see the fear in your eyes, Rex Raptor. A fear that you will lose the father of that child you’re carrying.”

Weevil’s words reminded Rex of his more painful contractions that got ever closer - yet being the bold man and duelist he was, he paid them little heed.

“I’ll give you credit for one thing,” Weevil spoke while he beat his wings faster, deadlocked in battle, trying to crush Rex with the chain whip. “You’re quite the warrior. And you’ve changed since your Orichalcos duel with Joey. It appears that you’re not going to let something like mere words rile you up.”

“But I can tell my words are riling you up…” Rex whispered closed to Weevil’s ear, catching him off-guard, before stabbing him in the shoulder with the sword. 

“Ngh…” Finally in pain, Weevil could feel his strength dwindling.

“Weeves…” Rex stared at his boyfriend - and stabbed him in the left thigh - in sorrow. “You can’t honestly mean that you want this… any of this! Don’t you remember seeing your daughter for the first time on the ultrasound? A-And how I told you all those years ago that I want nobody but you? How fast our hearts were beating when we confessed our love?”

“You… dino brain! Ack!” Weevil could no longer repel Rex’s attack and fell a few feet downwards. “I thought I told you that you can’t sweet talk your way into killing an Earthbound God!”

“You called me ‘dino brain’ again…” Tears of joy pooled in Rex’s eyes. “I know you still love me… Once the Rex Raptor has his sights on you, you can’t get rid of him.”

“Actually, I can ,” spoke a voice that was clearly not Weevil’s.

“Is… Is that you, Watda?” Weevil’s real voice finally came out.

“It appears to me that you’re going to be useless now, Uru… So it looks like I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“No… No!” Weevil thrashed about in the air, confusing Rex. “Leave Rex and Amber alone!”

“Weeves, what’s going on?” Rex couldn’t hear Watda’s voice.

“Goodbye, you damned useless rabbit…”

Weevil couldn’t control the ball of dark energy coming out from his right hands. “Wait… Watda, stop!”

“Ah!” He wasn’t fully confident that he could block this evidently stronger attack, but Rex enveloped himself in his dragon’s wings. 

And Rex wouldn’t have to block the attack. For before Watda’s attack could hit him, Weevil managed to separate from Watda, taking the full brunt of the attack last minute.

“W-Weeves!” The strength in Rex’s eyes now gone, he watched in horror as his boyfriend froze in the air before beginning a rapid descent into Domino City’s concrete. “Oh my gods… No… You’re going to come back, just like you did last time… right?”

“Even an Earthbound God and the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon can’t survive a 1000-meter fall. You saw it yourself when Cusillu, Aslla Piscu, and Kaiba all died.”

“Shut… up…”

“Now what are you going to do, since your beloved Weevil Underwood lies dead?” Watda laughed as his shadows grew fiercer. “You’re nothing without him, you weak-ass monster. Nothing!”

“That’s… That’s not… Oh!” Before Rex could aim his sword at Watda, he suddenly felt amniotic fluid trickle down his legs. He shook so badly that he lost grip of the sword as it plummeted after Weevil.

“You’re in labour, hmm? Looks to me like you have two choices: one, continue to fight me and risk losing your baby; or two, going back to ground level to give birth. But with that second option, there might be a sliiiiight chance I’ll destroy the world. Either way, you lose! Hahahahaha!”

No, he won’t, spoke Amber’s voice.

“Ngh… Amber, you’re still there?”

I’ve been with you the whole time, Papa. You’ve got to finish this fast!

“But how do you expect me to do that? Especially since… your Daddy is…”

There is one way. Now that Daddy has been separated from Watda… Papa, I’ll give you all of my strength. Use it to finally banish this mongrel to hell, where he belongs! Amber de-fused from Rex. In fully shifted form, she engulfed Watda, leaving only the Earthbound God’s chest exposed. In the process, lights sprung from the ground as the bow regenerated in Rex’s hands.

“Ggh! Let go of me, you wench!” Watda struggled to no avail.

Before Rex could process what was going on, he coruscated like the northern lights, and he stretched out his new angel’s wings. His hair grew past his legs, and brown locks encircled his arms.

“Oh my…” With the Earthbound army now vanquished, Phuckdis could truly behold his people’s chief god.

“That’s my boy!” Ptera cheered. “Give that bastard what for!”

“Hehe!” Rex gave his mom a thumbs up. “One kick-ass arrow, coming right up!”

“What are you doing?” Watda could feel his time at an end.

“Watda!” Rex continued to growl as he pulled his bowstring back, and his body and weapon grew ever brighter. “Go back to the shadows! Hyaaaaaaaah!”

“It’s…” Watda could say little more as the glowing arrow impaled a giant hole in his chest. “It’s done… I’m… done… Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgh!”

“Finally, something we can agree on.” Rex’s descent back to Earth started slowly, but upon reaching six feet above ground, he reverted forms and fell into Spinos’ arms.

“God-Shattering Star!” Phuckdis and the remaining Club members ran up to Rex.

“Is… Is that what I’m called? Heh, sounds pretty cool…” Rex would have rested if he didn’t wonder about Amber. “Wait a second, where’s Amber? Where is my daughter?”

“Rex!” Mokuba pointed to an approaching Joey, who carried a heavily mutilated Amber in his arms.

“Amber!” Rex got up from his prone position to hold Amber, whom Joey had gently lowered to the ground. “No! I… I thought we got him! I thought we defeated Watda together!”

“W-We did… But at a cost… What did you think I meant when I said ‘I’ll give you all of my strength?’”

“Amber…?” Rex couldn’t even hold Amber’s right hand anymore, as it began to fade into nothingness. “What’s happening? Please… This isn’t happening!”

“My… My granddaughter…” Ptera cried as Spinos and Tricera consoled her. Not a single eye was dry as Rex’s friends and allies watched the scene unfold. Even Espa and a newly-healed Mako could see what was going on.

“But… But we only got to duel once!” Joey got down and cried with Rex. “And you haven’t even dueled Espa yet! I thought you were going to win back his Serpent Night Dragon!”

“Joey… My friend…” Amber reached out her left hand to Joey. “I… I just wished I had… acknowledged you as such… earlier…”

“Amber! No, please don’t die!” Pretty much every body part Rex tried to grab at faded away, except for Amber’s head, shoulders, and left hand. 

“Die? No, I’m just about to be born…” Amber placed what was left of her left hand on Rex’s baby bump. “I can’t wait to see you again and forge our bonds anew.”

“Amber…?” Rex cried as Amber chuckled one last time before her future self was no more. “AMBER! NO! Oh… my gods… Sniff…”

“My love!” Heka, who had just fully healed, ran to Rex. He had only seen future Amber for a brief spell before she died. “Oh, no… My heart…”

“Heka, I’m so sorry…” Rex hugged his daughter’s boyfriend. “Not only for your mother’s death, but also for Amber’s…”

“Forget about me! You just lost your daughter!” Heka cried into Rex’s shoulder as Atem consoled him too.

“Amber… I… Aaaaargh!” Rex suddenly doubled over as the remainder of his amniotic fluid gushed out all at once.

“His water has already broken… Rex is going into labour!” Mokuba announced. “Someone call an ambulance!”

“It’s for real this time, guys!” Joey got up and dialed the campus emergency number. After that, he knelt down again, trying to calm Rex down in any way he could. “Rex, hang in there. We’re going to get you help!”

[saturnjae]

a-z analysis ~ l.j.n

includes: a whole lotta smut and my irrelevant opinion on jeno in bed.

writing his was death, because... JENO!!!!

if u have a problem with 00’ liner smut, even though they’re adults, please just ignore, scroll past and have a good day!

:::

a/n: i was writing renjun’s and i realised i should state this beforehand: i see jeno as a soft dom so, yeah....

:::

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

mostly cuddling, after he’s gained enough energy to clean you up, if you guys got messy. he’d hold you tight against himself, go back into clingy baby boy mode.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think he’d like thighs the most, the feeling of such soft flesh under his grasp would turn him on. on himself i think his favourite part would be his hands and he’d love to have them all over you. also, his tongue, he’s always sticking it out and would know how to make you feel good with it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

jeno can be quite a messy cummer. if he isn’t cumming in one of your holes or a condom, he’ll usually go for your stomach. there’s something about the way you take his cum that he loves.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

jeno can’t help but think about how beautiful you’d look with one of his hands wrapped round your neck; using the last breath you have left in your lungs to beg him to let you cum.

yes, jeno wants to try being really rough with you but the poor boy doesn’t want to hurt you.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

my boy ain’t getting any action cooped up in them dorms, sorry :’( he doesn’t even like texting people or going out, which means he probably jerks off to porn when he��s alone. however, he’d probably get the hang of it pretty quickly once he’s started.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

he loves to see your reactions. the faces you make when he hits the right spot or the way your eyes roll back when you’re cumming for him. he wants to see your back arch as you tell him how good he’s making you feel. also, he absolutely loves eye contact during sex, he has such a powerful stare, it’s seriously deadly. so, jeno would prefer missionary or even cowgirl, anything as long as he can see you properly.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

though people say he’s not funny, he’s hilarious they’re all liars lol  he knows how to make you laugh. in the act, i believe he would be more serious most of the time. sometimes, however, he would occasionally flash you one of his cute smiles, if the mood wasn’t serious in the first place. or, if something awkward happened, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from laughing causing you to burst out laughing too.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

i don’t think i’ve ever seen a hair on jeno’s armpits so, that gives me the indication that jeno likes to take care of his body hair. i think he’d more likely be trimmed; sometimes, he might just shave it all for the heck of it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

though he tries to act like he doesn’t like intimacy all the much, he’s very affectionate. he can be fairly romantic during the act, he wants to give you the ‘experience’. sex with jeno is pretty loving and he’d only be rough with you if you were being a brat or if he was in really stressed and angry.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

jeno gets off by himself probably a few times a week when he’s not too busy.... (i’ll give you an image of what it would be like)

it was as if the stars had aligned all of a sudden; his schedule almost never allowed him time and the dorm always seemed to be buzzing but for once he had some alone time. he sat in his chair in front of his computer. a hand slipped below his waistband and pulled out his throbbing cock. as he watched the playing on the screen, he couldn’t help but imagine both of you in place of the actors. he couldn’t help but imagine fucking you senseless like the man was. a few moans fell from his mouth along with your name. it felt so good but he would feel so much better if you were here...

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

i don’t see jeno as a very kinky person but he has a few things that seriously get him off like: praise {giving and receiving}, cockwarming, oral {giving more}, overstimulation {giving more}, light bondage...

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

pretty much on any surface he can take you, in the comfort of your own homes. but, it usually happens on the sofa or against a wall. he wouldn’t do much to you in public he might give you a few light, teasing touches. he’ll usually wait until you’re in private to do anything though.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

i think jeno would get turned on pretty easily, by you specifically. he finds himself wanting you most when he’s close to you for extended periods of time because that’s when his mind starts to wander and you’d end up feeling his bulge against you. i also think making out would get him going too. in my opinion, making jeno horny probably wouldn’t be a difficult task.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

like i said jeno isn’t extremely kinky, but i think he would be open to experiment. he wouldn’t like something he deemed dirty or dangerous much at all.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

jeno would love giving oral and he’s pretty good at it. he’s always sticking out his tongue and can no doubt use it well. he’d be a bit messy and rough with you but it would be very pleasurable. you would find it hard not to squirm and he’d have to hold your hips in place to stop you from bucking into him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

he would be pretty speedy. his thrusts would be hard and sharp, which are sometimes rough when he doesn’t mean to be. however, when he wants to prolong your activities, for any reason, his thrusts be more deep and slow. regardless, he’s going hard.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

no doubt, he’d prefer proper sex but if he really needed you badly and you both had barely any time he wouldn’t be opposed to it. the frequency of them would happen depending on his schedule. when he’s very busy they would happen quite often because he’d feel bad if he left you needy for him for such a long time. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

he wouldn’t be opposed to experimenting with you and would take suggestions from you and suggest things himself, even. some more serious, potentially dangerous things he would be a little hesitant about but would try it if he thought it would be worthwhile. so, he isn’t a major risk taker but would definitely take risks to keep things ‘spicy’ ;)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

jeno, no doubt, has good stamina. he’d usually go for two rounds, if time allowed it; more than two wouldn’t be too surprising from him. only if he was tired in the first place would he burn out after one round. i think he’d be able to last a pretty good amount of time, he might have you very sore and sensitive by the time he’s cum.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

doesn’t really like using toys; he’d rather make you feel good with his own body. he may use a vibrator on you to tease you once in awhile. he’d be open to use toys of your suggestion, however.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

jeno loves to tease. he likes hearing you whine and plea for him to touch you where you want it. he loves your cute little frown when your frustrated from not getting your way. he’ll do the opposite to what you want until you’re literally begging him to just get on with it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

not very loud. he’ll let out groans and grunts quite a bit. i also see him as someone that might pant a little, especially when he’s close. when he cums he’s at his loudest which isn’t very loud. he’d probably just let out a few deep grunts and moans. you’d be making much more noise than him; he’d make sure of that.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

i just assumed i could write anything i wanted in this space lol

you didn’t know what had gotten into jeno, he was being much rougher than usual. maybe, it was the pent up frustration from not being able to see you that often; right now, jeno was fucking into you like there was no tomorrow, relishing in the guttural moans you released for him and the fact you were currently scraping your nails down his back unable to control yourself with all the pleasure he was giving you. there was no way you would be walk properly for the next couple of days….

rough jeno would be a treat but let’s just move on before i get too into it-

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

a little above average so, about 6+ inches and pretty thick. jeno has a big dick. i know he does! there is no way he doesn’t. the stretch would be just amazing... his dick, like the rest of him, would be very veiny. he’s also cut (no cocksleeves round here :’( sorry)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

jeno’s young and energetic so he’d have a pretty high sex drive. it would happen a few times a week, if his schedule allowed it. there’s something about you that makes him go crazy.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

depends on the amount of energy he had in the first place and how long you’ve been going for. sometimes he’ll knock out but other times he’ll watch you fall asleep beside him with a beaming smile on his face.

:::

i hope you liked it! again, i do write 00′ liner smut NO CHENSUNG as they are no longer minors so, any hate for it is literally invalid. if you have a problem just block my acc or the tag jeno smut. i’ve tried to keep it off most main tags, for the sake of people that may still be uncomfortable with it. reporting it is not correct or necessary.

[deveharrington]

[8 new theories] + Response to anon: On the way David uses his words, his masks, and his social intuition (or lack thereof).

📬

Anonymous: 

I wanted to say thanks for the interesting read and also wow, it’s really amazing how different our perception can be. I never got the ’laid-back’ vibe from DD. Or rather, I get that he tries to project it, but always thought it‘s a mask and in reality he’s just as insecure and high-strung as GA, only hides it better. And I never believed he doesn’t care for his image. I think it hurts him badly that it’s forever tainted. Remember his words that he doesn’t expect his kids to be proud of him?

Hi anon, thank you so much for this message. I need conflicting perspectives like these brought to my attention, otherwise, as you can see, its very easy for me to get into a thinking groove.

I still stand by my claims, but I am willing to change them anytime in light of new info. Opposing opinions like this help connect the pieces in the end and put everything in perspective. It is invaluable to me, so thank you :)

Your ask brings up a lot of great points, so many that I put my response under a cut due to the length. But, before the cut:

Here is a table of contents to summarize, and if anyone is interested in these topics: 

The “short” version of my response to your ask.

The way David uses his words

David places more value on words than actions, and thinks the two are interchangeable. 

David and the excuse, “why bother?”?

David and using excess and indulgence to lose himself. 

David lacks the intuition to read others. He cannot see people for what they are, and maybe he doesn’t want to. (Could be related to him always wearing a mask). 

David and Gillian’s insecurities as both a compatibility AND incompatibility between them. 

On Gillovny (yep, I can somehow relate everything to Gillovny): David and Gillian both have an insatiable greed for this relationship, but they cannot act out of their own fear and insecurities. 

My current theory on why Gillovny is blocked right now (nothing to do with Monique).

*** And to Monique (Hi!), please deliver this message to David: 

(HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Oh David, your refusal to grow up essentially puts you in the Majora’s Mask universe. Haven’t you noticed that you’re constantly repeating the same mistakes over and over and over....? It doesn’t help that you seem to have a mask and excuse for EVERYTHING. I’m sorry about your terrible fate. But you’ve brought it upon yourself.)

(1) 💣 The “short” version of my response to your ask:

I agree with you that the laid-backness is a guise. And I could understand him using a guise if he were performing any progressive action in his career to warrant a guise, but he is not. Maybe the difference between us here is what we’re seeing beneath the guise, but I also believe that his guise has changed, even if its just a subtle change.

I said in my first thesis he has a drive to excel, is competitive, and wants to be seen. I still believe these things. But now, in his current phase, the guise isn’t even laid-back, its “I don’t give a f*ck”. To me, this is a red flag. 

** Its like he knows his career is nothing but he doesn’t want anyone else to tell him about it (his ego makes him want to be the source of all knowledge). So he’s just in “f*ck you” mode at any kind of input coming his way. 

** ACTUALLY maybe this is why it seems like he is ignoring so many issues in his life right now? It might be connected to his natural drive to succeed not being satisfied by his “career”. 

The biggest problematic piece of evidence, for me is reports of him being rude to fans in person, outright ignoring them/not engaging with them online, denying them what they’ve paid for, etc. Why bite the hand that feeds you, while at the same time announcing all the projects you have lined up for the future? It is an aggressive way to treat fans, but David gets by with using the “innocent exploring artist” MASK.

Another piece of evidence: I still see the situation as him doing nothing but I am looking to be proven wrong in the very near future. I haven't listened to his recent podcast about his future projects. I just can’t stand him nowadays, lmfao. 

Also, I created all the ideas of this response before the sofaology nonsense came out lmao! If it turns out that this is the “secret project” he’s been hyping then... LMAO!

For now, my conclusion of the situation is that David is applying some “all or nothing” thinking to his situation, and its throwing his decision making out of control. Like he’s looking at the ends only, not the means. He keeps having projects shut down, but can’t learn that he needs to start somewhere and build his skills and reputation, not just cry out advertisements for himself with no guarantee of fulfilling his many promises. 

I want to agree with you that he (still) cares about his image but... if he did, then what the hell kind of messages is he trying to send right now? And, could it be that he really is just NOT self aware AT ALL? That he might lack the intuition to read others, so he has developed a weird idea of how to interact socially. I say this because he expresses himself so weirdly. Also, maybe he assumes others wear a mask because he wears so many masks himself. So, he doesn’t place value on the way he comes across, only on the words he says?

I mean, and sorry, but let’s illustrate it with his disgusting “relationship”: what the fuck kind of messages is he sending to his kids? to his wife? About love, companionship, partnership, and family (example: “sorry, family, I don’t have time for you because I only have time for - I won’t say it.)? 

BUT it could be that he doesn’t mean to send these kinds of messages? I don’t want to think that he would try to put that image out there on purpose. 

So, what if he really is not aware of himself?? Like, is he THAT selfish that he only thinks about himself and NEVER others? Never even the way they see him? LMao?? Probably not, it might just boil down to a lack of social intuition (hence the “conquering” attitude with women)? That doesn’t make total sense but it does for me?? for now, I guess? I don’t know, lmao. 

(2) 💣 [THEORY 45] The way David uses his words.

I”ll just say this before going forward in hopes that it will show where my perspective is coming from. And this is just what I see:

When david uses words to express himself he mixes his honest sentiments with one or a combo of the following:

- Self-deprecating humour - to give an illusion of humility

- Edginess - to give an illusion of honesty, or some noble quest of “fighting the system” and to get you on his side. 

- Sensationalism/shock value - to get your attention and maybe distract you from the fact that what he is actually saying is either a) completely unfair to opposing views b) not founded upon evidence, but personal bias or c) just complete nothingness. 

- Overly convoluted/deliberately unknowable references - to a) again, distract you from the fact that what he’s saying is complete nothingness, or b) maybe to demonstrate his literary “prowess” and at the same time prevent you from researching the source of his statements.

- Imposing himself/dominating the conversation/making everything about him - a) to fool you into thinking that what he’s saying is correct and/or b) to make himself seem more interesting

*** I think he uses all these tactics because he is really scared that people will get bored of him...

*** BECAUSE he constantly needs people’s attention on him!!!!! He can’t risk people.... NOT paying attention to him!!!!!!

(And to my anon who once sent me some info talking about how David needed one of his girlfriends to constantly remind him that she loved him...thank you! and I didn’t forget about you! I’ll answer your ask... one day!!)

So, here is David blowing his own mind with his incomprehensible strings of alphabet letters because he is both a player AND easily played: 

You’re right, its all an illusion, a mask. But to what end? I think both David and Gillian are just like that, they constantly want the position of power. Humility is out of the question, but this contributes to their insecurity because humility is a socially valued trait. Maybe they are just not comfortable fully expressing who they are. I see this more for David than Gillian. You said, “David hides it better”, so absolutely this is the case, but I’m just asking, why does he feel the need to hide? 

But I can at least respect Gillian because i’ve never seen her really try to project “humble and relatable”. Actually, part of the reason why I love her so much is because she seems open about her insecurities. 

David plays his fans with the “innocent guy” mask and people fall for it. The players and the played just attract each other, I guess.

(3) 💣 [THEORY 46] David places more value on words than actions, and thinks the two are interchangeable. 

To your point about David and Gillian both being equally insecure and using a guise, absolutely. The only thing that makes me hesitate to end the conversation there is the massive difference in their careers. (Will elaborate later). 

For now, I will focus on a theory on how David is rationalizing his guise. You mentioned what he said, that “his kids would not be proud”, but, David, does this mean that you should do nothing to try to make your kids proud? 

Or, he might see his  reputation as “forever tainted”, but, David, does this mean that you should do nothing to try to improve your reputation?

I swear there is a quote of his (which I can’t find anymore, maybe I just made it up? lmao) where he said something along the lines of, “the problems men have are problems they’ve had since the beginning of time”. 

Now, David, come on. Is he saying that we should not even bother to correct ourselves with our actions? We should not try to improve, progress, or contribute to society through innovation? Imagine if women said, “women have always had the position of inequality, so we should not even bother to fight?”. 

To me, these statements of his are just red flags: examples of “all or nothing” thinking. 

Please consider it with what I said about the way David uses his words. 

My theory is that he feels that that as long as he can admit the truth of the situation, then this somehow excuses his actions. Like, his words are so powerful they can be used in the place of corrective action. 

And when he “admits a truth”, he sways the tide with his words to get people on his side. He uses self deprecation to convince you he is self aware. He uses edginess to convince you he is a badass. He uses humour to just make you happy and agreeable. He dominates the conversation to make you feel that he was the one with all the answers/arguments, or perhaps recreate a teacher/student dynamic.

I think he just sees too much power in words, and not just words, but ONLY HIS words. And of course this is not helped by his identity being tied to his education, and also not helped by the fact that he has been able to get his way through excuses. 

So, he just manipulates things to allow him to do whatever he wants in the future. Actually, there is a problem in this in that it can then be hard for people to know what exactly he wants (he has fooled them with his words) and therefore they cannot help him get exactly what he wants. Maybe that is why he is not progressing? Because he is trying to do everything on his own? David, you need to listen to others because you can’t even see yourself. LMFAO. 

This leads to the next two theories:

(4) 💣 [THEORY 47] David and the excuse, “why bother?”. 

It seems like his bread and butter. I’m sorry but I see him as carrying around a lot of judgments that maybe he feels are useful for directing his efforts and constructing his image, but in reality are just limiting him. 

And I think goes hand in hand with:

(5) 💣 [THEORY 48] David and using excess and indulgence to lose himself. 

This is just my perspective. I see that, with David, If something ends up working for him, he will exploit it to the ends of the earth. 

For him, it is not about progress but lateral movement. More and then less, give and then take.

AND he is able to detach himself from his feelings (example: lack of passion) because he is so good at creating arguments and agreeing with himself.

So, to relate to our discussion, I think me might just be saying, “why bother working any harder if I don’t need to?”. But how much lower is the dude gonna stoop past the Sofology nonsense? Lmfao. 

(6) 💣[THEORY 49] David lacks the intuition to read others. He cannot see people for what they are, and maybe he doesn’t want to. (Could be related to him always wearing a MASK). 

I’ll just repost what I wrote in my response to your ask. I want to elaborate on this, but I have nothing more to go on other than Brad Davidson being a scammer right in front of David’s eyes. 

Onto the copy and paste: 

Could it be that he really is just NOT self aware AT ALL? That he might lack the intuition to read others, so he has developed a weird idea of how to interact socially. I say this because he expresses himself so weirdly. Also, maybe he assumes others wear a mask because he wears so many masks himself. 

So, he doesn’t place value on the way he comes across, only on the words he says?

I mean, and sorry, but let’s illustrate it with his disgusting “relationship”: what the fuck kind of messages is he sending to his kids? to his wife? About love, companionship, partnership, and family (example: “sorry, family, I don’t have time for you because I only have time for - I won’t say it.)? 

BUT it could be that he doesn’t mean to send these kinds of messages? I don’t want to think that he would try to put that image out there on purpose. 

So, what if he really is not aware of himself?? Like, is he THAT selfish that he only thinks about himself and NEVER others? Never even the way they see him? LMao?? Probably not, it might just boil down to a lack of social intuition (hence the “conquering” attitude with women)? That doesn’t make total sense but it does for me?? for now, I guess? I don’t know, lmao. 

(7) 💣 [THEORY 50] David and Gillian’s insecurities as both a compatibility AND incompatibility between them. 

Let’s first discuss the compatibility aspect, and I guess it starts and ends with a similarity. So, they are compatible because they both have the same insecurities about being nothingness. 

To quote Daria, 

[David and Gillian] wear superficiality like a suit of armor, 'cus they’re afraid of looking inside and finding absolutely nothing. 

I think maybe both of them just have that fear. I think it might be because they want so badly to be in a position of power and position of provider. 

They can’t fully accept that they are nothingness and its ok to be nothingness, its ok not have the answer all the time, and its ok have to rely on others when that time comes. 

Notice how they talk about mindfulness/meditation almost to like, demonstrate that they are in sync within themselves but they kind of overlook the fact that no person owes anyone an explanation. They have no need to prove themselves. But it could be that they are just describing their lifestyle, sorry, lmao, I’m just always suspicious lmfao.

So, now let’s discuss the incompatibility. Which I see as the way they respond to their insecurity. 

Gillian = action and progress in the face of fear.

David = the complete opposite, resignation and rationalization in the face of fear (combined with letting himself off the hook with rationalizations)

Literally, Gillovny could be blocked by a situation where Gillian is putting in the effort and David is not. 

Although even I can see that i am very biased towards Gillian because I agree more with acting in the face of fear vs. doing nothing at all. But one is not more correct than the other, it is just my personal preference.

After all, anons keep telling me to resign myself and accept whatever this situation is supposed to be, but that is simply not my way :)

(8) 💣 [THEORY 51] My current theory on why Gillovny is blocked right now:

David and Gillian are the ones blocking Gillovny.

Its funny how similar they are in terms of really deep, personal, and unusual traits. David and Monique are the same on the surface (and apparently he can’t see past the surface), but David and Gillian have like… twin dark souls. 

I think with both David and Gillian there will just always be the internal conflicts they have within themselves. They have an image they want to portray, they want to be seen as strong but also vulnerable. I think they want to teach but still see themselves as learning. 

** They want the position of power but also have an insatiable greed themselves, as if they need someone else to be in power as well to provide for them....!!!!!

(I know Gillian said that she wouldn’t like a relationship where the man is the boss, and I love her for saying that, but all humans, male and female, need their partner to be a provider of something.)

** and they want to give but maybe their own greed AND personal insecurities stop them from involving themselves completely. I will offer this as a potential blockage of the Gillovny relationship. Literally, insatiable greed *fans self* mixed with crippling self doubt *cries and writes a gentle love letter to both David and Gillian that I will never send*. 

AS IN: 

Their greed = insatiable need.

And their insecurity = cannot even act to fulfill each other’s needs. 

SO WHAT IF they have a NEED they can’t satisfy because they are literally paralyzed by fear from their insecurities? 

... They have a NEED and they can’t ACT? ooooooooh bby!!!!!!!!!!

*** I could actually see them as being so short sighted in this relationship, probably from how emotionally exciting it must be, that they cannot even see that all they need to do is... ACT. LMAO. And by act I mean take it to the next level. Enough of the boy/girl sh*t everyone can see that this is something about a MAN/WOMAN. 

Maybe David and Gillian show their true colours when they are separated:

David shows he is a boy with his boy/girl nonsense “relationship”

Gillian shows she is a woman with her man/woman relationship. 

?? I’ll just leave it at that for now. 

Its just... If only they could get it into their hard heads that there is no need to hide... from their own love...

Anyways, thanks so much, anon. let’s talk anytime! 

[bandoms-are-fandoms]

Chapter 2

Here’s the link to the Prologue if you haven’t read it!

Here’s the link to Chapter 1 if you haven’t read it!

"That's what the favor is," Jungkook states, jumping off the counter, "We want you to write a few songs for us." Blinking, I stare at him for a long time, not fully understanding what he is meaning, "What we need is a ghostwriter, can you oblige?"

His words continued to resound through my house; my face must’ve looked just as confused as I felt. I stared at each of the serious faces in my house before I suddenly burst into laughter. While I was laughing, each boy exchanged a glance with one another before I could finally calm myself down, wiping a tear from my eye, “A ghostwriter? Are you insane?”

“We’re completely serious,” Jungkook sighs, crossing his arms. He is obviously not in the mood for my unwelcomed response.

“I’m a screenwriter - no, I’m not even a screenwriter. I just lost my job as an intern at MBC. I am nowhere near talented enough to become a ghostwriter.”

“Well, if that’s all you’re worried about, then we’ll take that as a yes,” The older looking boy grins, stepping towards me.

“No, no!” I wave my hands in front of my face, “There is no way I could work for you guys, I don’t even know who you are! I don’t even know how you found me!”

“Phone Tracker,” The bored boy stated calmly in that deadpan tone that I’m not even close to getting used to.

“You said you lost your job,” The tall boy states, walking over to me, “This can be your new job. We already know you can do it, so what’s the problem?”

“Isn’t this some kind of crime?!” Everything's happening so fast; I can barely figure out how to stand anymore. Chi-Chi runs around each boy, looking happy when Jungkook picks her up to pet her. Traitorous dog! Can’t she see we’re in crisis mode!?

“Look, we’re desperate,” The baby-faced boy bows to me and each one of them follows suit.

“We’re begging you! Please help us!” ...Well, this is unusual. Why would a bunch of boys be so desperate for a few songs - Wait, I can’t even write songs!

“Who are you people!?” It was way too long of a day to just be calm about this whole situation. Each one pops their heads up and grins at me.

“My name is Kim Namjoon,” The tall boys tells me, gesturing to the next boy, “This is Kim Seokjin, but we just call him Jin.”

“Hello, you can call me World Wide Handsome!” Jin jokes, giving me a friendly grin. World Wide Handsome…? What…? What does that even mean!? Jin laughs at me, what I am assuming to be, indigenous expression and pointed to the next boy, “This is Jung Hoseok.”

“Call me J-Hope,” the friendly guy is known as J-Hope holds out his hand for me. When I take it, he gives it a nice, firm squeeze before letting go. His face grows serious for a second, “You have really soft skin, you know that?” He asks, grinning from ear to ear, earning curious looks from the other members.

“Um… Yeah, it’s genetics, I guess…? I get it from my dad…?” I laugh nervously, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. This is so weird, my head is spinning so much.

“Oh, and this is Kim Tae-Hyung!” J-Hope exclaims, gently pushing the boy forward. He shifts awkwardly on his feet before sticking his hand out.

“Just call me V,” He gives me a small smile while I gently take his hand. His eyes light up brightly, “Your hand is soft!” This is literally the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in and I walked into the boy's bathroom in my bathing suit. This is far, far worse.

“It’s… lotion, guys, I’m sure you all use some…” V points to the guy next to him and the guy move forward slightly to introduce himself.

“I’m Min Yoongi, but everyone just calls me Suga,” He introduces himself, a small smile playing on his lips. He has a nice smile, it’s very reassuring. The soft smile causes me to smile back.

The baby-faced boy waves to me, grinning widely; he seems to be the kindest one even though they’re all being kind to me. Must be because they technically broke into my house, “I’m Park Jimin! Let’s work hard together!”

“She hasn’t exactly agreed to help us yet,” Jungkook finally speaks up again, causing me to look at him. Jimin gives a small sheepish laugh and points to Jungkook.

“This is Jeon Jungkook and he’s a bully to all of us Hyungs.” Jungkook lets out a small scoff, but you could see a tiny smile playing on his lips. He has a pretty smile too… They all look so friendly…

“Oh, uh…” I clear my throat, bowing deeply to them, “I’m Sakka Tsukama,” I tell them, standing up straight and pointing to my dog, “That’s Chi-Chi, she’s my dog.”

“She can come with us!” Jimin exclaims, taking his turn with the dog in his arms. Chi-Chi seems to be content with being held; I can never hold her. Her caramel butt is too heavy for me told.

“Is this your room?” J-Hope welcomes himself into my home and starts wandering around in my bedroom, “We can pack for you!”

“You shouldn’t go into a lady’s room!” I cry, running into the room, pushing him out of there, “You guys really just go to the beat of your own drum, don’t you?”

“Only when we want something,” Namjoon jokes, looking around my tiny apartment, “There’s more room at our house.” He informs me, I’m assuming he’s trying to sweeten the deal for me.

“We could get your name out as a screenwriter,” Suga informs me, his smile turning into a small smirk.

“What? How can you do that?” I tilt my head, taking my dog out of Jimin’s arms. This is getting to be the way to unusual. J-Hope and Jin head over to my couch to turn on the tv.

“...Do you really not know who we are?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide in surprise.

“...Namjoon, Jimin, Jin, V, J-Hope, Suga, and Jungkook,” I point to each prospective person, mentally cheering because I remembered their names.

“I didn’t mean literally,” Jungkook laughed, truly smiling at me for the first time. Oh, he could probably have any girl that he wants with that smile, “I meant, do you know who we are?”

“I just stated all of your names,” I pout, looking around again. Who they are? They’re a bunch of boys who broke into my house and me, possibly, crashed into them at the airport. Now that I think about it…, “You guys were surrounded by girls at the airport!”

“...Okay, that technically goes with who we are,” V chuckles slightly, “Do you know why we are surrounded by girls?” I stare at them for a long moment until something clicks in my mind and my eyes go wide.

“Oh my god…” I whisper and the five who were still in front of me start to grin.

“Do you get it?” Jimin asks me excitedly. I slowly nod my head as I set Chi-Chi down and reach for the bat that had fallen to the floor.

“You guys are pimps, aren’t you!?” I cry, holding the bat up, “I am not getting into that life, no matter how poor I am!” A long beat took place as all seven boys stare at me until they burst out into laughter.

“No, no!” Namjoon cries, gently prying the bat from hands, “We’re not pimps! We wouldn’t even come into your house if we were!” Each of the boys is cackling or hooting, some are clapping their hands together like their seals. What did I say…?

“What!? What the hell is so funny!?” I cry, looking at all of them. My eyes turn towards J-Hope and Jin and suddenly all seven boys that were standing in my home were on the television. They were dancing and singing… This a music video… As the boys all calm down from their laughter, I walk over to the tv and stare at the screen for a moment, “Who are you people…?” I whisper to them, unsure of what my life is about to turn into.

“We’re a boy band that goes by the name Bangtan Boys,” Jin grins at me, turning down the volume, “But we go by BTS for short.” Falling into silence, I look at each boy and everyone’s eyes, still sparkling with laughter, confirm to me what he says is true and the only words that can come out of my mouth are,

“...That’s an unfortunate name,” I tell them bluntly, earning sheepish grins from each boy, “But if you’re a boy band, then why do you need me? You could have stupidly famous musicians, composers, or producers to write songs for you.”

Suga nods his head to me, “You’re right about that.” ...Well, thanks. You’re the ones here who asked for my help! “But it’s not as simple as asking a friend for help. We’ve all hit some form of writer’s block.” He informs me. Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulders.

“We are, officially, a globally recognized band,” He begins to tell me, “We usually write, choreograph, produce, and perform everything we write, but we’re getting too big for our own shoes,” Taking a deep breath, he looks at me for a long moment, “We are busy every single day with interviews, music videos, collaborations, and many other factors that we just haven’t had any time to write new music. We could ask for help from others, but that wouldn’t look too good for us in the long run. There are bands out there who could balance everything and produce a new album every six months, so we need somebody who’s unknown that could help us. With that said…” he bows to me and the rest follow suit (J-Hope and Jin scrambling to their feet before bowing as well), “We’re begging you, Tsukamu! Please, will you help us write songs!”

They all look so desperate… They even took time out of their busy schedules to find me… As I’m looking at all of these boys - no, they’re men - as I’m looking at these men, bowing their heads to me, my mother’s words began to flash before my eyes,

“It doesn’t matter how many people you know or how famous you become because if you don’t stop to help someone who is in desperate need of help, then you aren’t worth knowing. People need people, Sakka-chan, so you need to help when you can,” The fragile woman’s face comes to my mind and I remember how much help she needed my entire life. Hardening my resolve, I gently push each of them into a standing position.

“Is that a no…?” Jungkook asks me, his eyes telling me every fearful emotion he’s having. Taking a deep breath, I shake my head.

“I’m not saying no…” I tell them and as the realization slowly starts to sink in, I grin at them, “Please allow me to help you guys write songs,” It was my turn to bow at them. Cheers and whoops resound through my apartment, causing me to laugh once I was fully straightened up.

“We should get you packed up then!” Jimin bounds into my bedroom turning on the lights, “Woah, it’s so clean in here!”

“It’s going to be strange having a girl live with us,” Jungkook laughs, peeking his head into the room.

“You could eat off the floor in here!” J-Hope cries as everyone files into my room.

“Oi!” I cry, running into my room, “I didn’t give you permission to be in here!”

“Relax, Tsukamu,” Namjoon teases, opening my closet, “We’re just trying to help you pack.”

“I can pack myself!”

“Tsukamu is your name, isn’t it?” Jungkook asked, plopping down on my bed. Everyone is just making themselves comfortable in my house! What is this!?

“Just call me Sakka…” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Is this what it’s like to live with boys?

“Wow!” Jin laughs, sitting next to Jungkook, “So informal already! We’re practically married to you!” He teases me with a wink. My face begins to burn as I take the nearest pillow and smack him with it.

“Don’t talk to a girl about marriage!”

“There’s literally not a speck of dust in here!” V cries out, opening my drawers.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop going through my stuff!”

“Can we bring Chi-Chi?” Jimin questions as the fat pup jumps onto my bed, cuddling up to Jungkook.

“If I can’t take my dog, then I’m not helping you!”

“Oh, well, then we’re definitely taking the dog,” Jungkook laughs as Chi-Chi licks his face in gratitude.

The next few hours pass with each boy going through my house as if they’ve never seen a girl’s room. Eventually, after I’ve finished packing, we end up back at their apartment at the dead of night. It’s already 1:45 in the morning and I feel bad for keeping them out so long, but I stare up at the snowy sky once more. A small smile graces my cold cheeks, maybe the snow really does still hold it’s magic for me. Each boy carries in one of my many bags and I follow them inside what will be my new home for a little.

What I was met with was a big, fat mess, “What is this!?” I shout, looking at all the kitchen utensils thrown about. There were clothes everywhere and you would think a sewer would explode by the smell of the place. Now, this is bigger than my apartment by at least two thousand square feet, but why is it so much messier!? I can’t even see the floor!

Plugging my nose, I watch as Chi-Chi finds herself a slice of pizza on the floor, running off with it, “Oi!” J-Hope cries, chasing her, “I was looking for that!”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jungkook tells me, setting my stuff down in a room, “It’s a little messy.”

“A little!?” I shouted, trying to navigate through the mess.

“We did hire a maid once,” Namjoon informs me, sitting down on the couch, “She ran away crying though.” He jokes with me, seeming unfazed by the mess.

I sigh, looking around the messy place, “I’m too tired to try and clean right now, but I swear to god, I will this damn mess.” I inform them as they each come out of the same room, “Where did you put my stuff!?”

“Oh, you’re staying in the same room as Namjoon and Jungkook,” Jimin tells me with a grin, “We had a rock, paper, scissors match to decide that.”

“Couldn’t you have asked me!?”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” He cackles, “We’ll make some ground rules tomorrow since we have a girl in the house now.” I feel extremely irritated right now. Heaving an exasperated sigh, I move toward the door.

“Fine, I guess we’ll be busy with a lot of things tomorrow,” I mumble.

“Oh, wait! Sakka!” Namjoon calls for me and I look back at him. He grins at me in a cheeky manner that would put a monkey to shame, “You’ll be coming with us to all of our jobs starting tomorrow morning.”

“...I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say?” I stare at him, throwing all common courtesy out the window, “When the fuck did I agree to that, huh!? What in the hell is going on here anyway!? Why didn’t ya tell me this before!? Where are y’all getting the idea you can boss me around!? Huh!? Answer me, would ya!?

“Did you hear that accent!?” Jungkook cackles. I blush, realizing my boonies accent was making its appearance so early on. I whine, trying to maintain the same glare I was posing before.

“We’ll explain everything in the morning.~” Namjoon hums, walking by me into the bedroom, “Oh, we already set up an air mattress for you, so you don’t have to share the bunk bed with one of us.” Jungkook walks in behind Namjoon and both boys are kind enough to leave the room to go and change into their pajamas.

Giving another whine, I walk into the bedroom. Being hit with another wave of shock and nausea from the smell of boy, I can’t believe I have accepted this fate. Is this what life is going to be like for me from now on? I watch my chubby dog hobble in and make herself comfortable on Jungkook’s bed, I can’t help but give her a challenging glare, “You’re such a traitor sometimes.” She yaps at me and I lie down on the air mattress.

Still, in my pajamas from earlier, I pull up the blanket next to me and I realize that this house is not only messy and stinky, but it’s also freezing ass cold! Jungkook and Namjoon walk back in and Jungkook places Chi-Chi on the bed next to me, “You might want your dog to sleep with tonight.” I give him a grateful look as he walks over to the closet, opening it up. Namjoon climbs onto the top bunk and looks at Jungkook curiously.

“What’re you doing?” He asks as Jungkook tosses a large blanket at me.

“She looks like she could get cold easily,” He states plainly, laying down, “She’s small and looks like she doesn’t have enough of a body to create body heat.”

“...I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” I sigh, covering myself up. Chi-Chi cuddles close to me, happy to find more warmth herself.

“Are we all ready for bed?” Jungkook asks next to the light switch. Namjoon gives a grunt of agreement and I lazily wave at the boy. With the room becoming dark once again, I hear Jungkook crawl into his bed. Staring at the ceiling, I have to resign myself to what is about to come with this situation. Boy did I not expect what was going to happen in the next couple of months.

________________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I do not own BTS or anything affiliated with them. I do own Sakka and her friends. This is roughly like Scandal in the Spotlight, so if you notice anything related to it, then I do not own that.

[revwinchester]

Centerfold - Part 3

Summary:  Dean stumbles across an interview and photoshoot starring his high school crush (and younger brother’s friend) Castiel.  He decides he’s going to stop at nothing to get back in touch with the boy with the blue eyes who used to sit in front of him in homeroom.

Genre: Mostly fluff with a touch of angst

Pairing: Destiel

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Word Count: 1498

Series Warnings: AU - No Supernatural, Porn Star Cas, Mentions of Sex (but no depictions), Bastardization of SPN Lines, Scenes, and Episode Titles

A/N: This whole series came out of a prompt for @thinkwritexpress-official​‘s Back To School Challenge!  The fic is based on the J Gelis Band song “Centerfold” in which a man finds his high school crush on the pages of his favorite porn magazine.  This is the last part before Cas joins us, y’all!!  Also, if one of the scenes looks familiar, I was using a transcript of 4.18 in order to get it just right while I twisted it to fit my story :)

Special thanks to my dearest Night Sloth who reads my stuff before y’all do and assures me it’s decent before I share it.

Find it on AO3

Centerfold Masterlist

Centerfold - Part 3 - 

The next morning, Sam got ready for work and left, parking his car just out of sight and waiting for Dean to leave the house.  He had decided to follow Dean to the city, despite his brother’s instance, so he had taken the day off of work but he had to keep up appearances if he was going to tail his brother.  Not too long after he had left, Sam watched Dean’s car drive by his hiding place and he pulled out to follow.  

As Dean drove into the city, Sam rode behind him staying back just far enough that his brother wouldn’t notice him but close enough that he wouldn’t lose sight of the Impala.  Once they got into the city, Sam was surprised that Dean drove toward the business district, eventually pulling into a parking garage.  Sam parked his car quickly, making it down to the sidewalk in time to see Dean duck into a building across the street.

By the time Sam got inside, Dean was no longer in the lobby but a quick scan of the building’s directory gave Sam an idea as to where his brother had gone.   Hot Rod Hotties had offices on the building’s fourth floor.  Sam elected to take the stairs, figuring he could hide his entrance better than he could on the elevator, and made his way up, his long legs taking the steps two at a time.  When he arrived on the fourth floor, he emerged into the small lobby for the magazine’s offices.  He couldn’t see Dean but he could hear him and Sam smiled at the receptionist.  

To his surprise, she waved him back toward the offices.  Sam didn’t question his luck and followed Dean’s voice, stopping just outside of an open office door to listen.  

“So, you book the talent for the magazine?  You made that interview with Jimmy Novak a reality?” he heard Dean ask.  

A woman answered.  “Yeah, Gosh, Jimmy… He never really gets the attention he deserves.  All anybody wants to watch anymore is that free hard core stuff, you know?  They don’t care about the story.  It’s all two minute videos like, ‘Red Headed Bimbo Gets The Pounding She Deserves.’  How do you get anything done in two minutes?” she scoffed.  “Please…”  Sam could practically hear her eyes rolling.

Sam heard Dean huff.  “I know, it’s just so… there’s no story there,” he agreed.  

Sam held in a snicker.  He could only imagine Dean’s inner turmoil.  His brother loved those short snippets just as much, if not more, than the longer films he’d downloaded but, clearly, sharing that wasn’t going to win him any favors here.

“I’m really hoping that my dissertation can shine a light on storytelling in pornography, bring some attention to an under appreciated art form,” Dean continued.

The woman in the office practically squealed.  “It really is under appreciated.  Thank you!  I mean, the best parts are between the sex!  Like, in Stuck In The Middle , where Jimmy Novak’s character thought he was going to die… he was on the verge of tears as he professed his love to his best friend and it felt so real…” her voice trailed off and Sam was almost positive he heard her sniffle.  “I mean, no offense, but how often do men actually act like that, really let it all out?”

“The orgy that followed really drove that feeling of love home,” Dean joked.  

Sam could practically envision the forced grin on his brother’s face and, apparently, the woman in the office didn’t miss it, either.

“Is that supposed to be funny? How do I know you’re legit?”

Sam imagined her getting up in Dean’s face, maybe poking a finger into his chest.

“Lady, this whole thing is funny,” Dean replied, digging his hole even deeper, but then he added, “Look, I’m legit.  This isn’t some smart ass paper that’s going to make fun of the industry.  I promise you.”

The woman considered Dean for a moment.  “I’m a sucker for a pretty face… what do you need?”

“Well, we were talking about Jimmy Novak, How can I get in touch with him?” Dean asked, almost too quickly.

“Oh, um, no…” The woman sputtered, “no, Sorry.  I can’t do that.”

“Oh, come on,” Dean pled, “I’m a big fan…”

The office was quiet for a few moments, only a rustling sound coming from inside.  Sam wasn’t sure what was going on in there but he was positive that he didn’t care to find out.  After a couple of minutes, Sam decided it was time for him to go.  Dean could be coming out of that office at any minute and Sam did not want to be there when that happened.  

He made his way down to the main lobby, the receptionist on the fourth floor mumbling something about how hot the talent was as he passed.  Sam did his best to blend in while he waited for his brother to come down and exit the building.  It was another few minutes before Dean did - with a giddy look on his face - and Sam followed him out the door.

Something had gone well in that office, Sam mused as he followed his brother down the street and away from the garage where they had parked their cars.  Luckily for Sam, whatever it was had given Dean tunnel vision of a sorts so he didn’t realize that he was being followed through the streets.

Dean turned into a park about two blocks from the office and Sam continued to trail him.  He was back far enough to change his course and creep up behind his brother when Dean stopped and sat on a park bench.  He watched as Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and punched in a phone number that had been written on a sheet of paper Sam hadn’t noticed while it was clutched in his brother’s hand.

As Dean pressed the phone to his ear, Sam quietly moved closer to him so that he could hear his brother’s phone call.  

After a couple of seconds, Dean’s shoulders tensed.  “Um… I…” His words were stilted and cut off and after a couple seconds of floundering, Dean pulled his phone away and slammed his thumb onto the red button that ended his call.  “Shit…” he muttered and Sam couldn’t hold his laughter back.

Snickering, Sam made his presence known to his brother, plopping down next to him on the bench.  “You finally got his number, didn’t you?” he asked, “And you couldn’t even talk to the guy!”  

Dean looked at his brother in shock, surprised that he was even there in this moment of spectacular failure.  “What? How? What… are you doing here?”

Sam’s laughter doubled at his brother’s confusion and it increased again when Dean scowled at him.  Sam forced himself to get under control so that he could answer.  “You were being super cagey last night.  I knew you weren’t in the city to pick something up for Bobby so I followed you.  You weaseled your way into getting Castiel’s number, right?”

Dean tried to summon up some bravado but he knew Sam had heard his phone call.  He hung his head as he replied.  “Yeah, I got his number from the magazine’s offices in town.  And then I totally messed up when I called him,” Dean mumbled.  He sighed deeply and added, “But I guess you know all of that if you’ve been following me.”

Sam sobered up at the defeated tone of his brother’s voice.  He sat beside Dean, trying to find the words that would comfort him without sending him into retreat mode at the indication that feelings might be on the table for discussion.  When that failed him, Sam tried anyway.  “Look, I know I’ve given you a hard time about this but, I mean, there are a lot of guys out there, Dean.  Don’t let this get to you.”

Dean chuckled darkly.  “Sure, Sammy, there are plenty of fish in the sea.  It’s not like I haven’t had a crush on this particular fish since high school, or anything.”

Sam didn’t have a response to that so he sat quietly with Dean for a few minutes.  “Let’s not waste the day, why don’t we head to the record store or something, at least, maybe grab dinner before we head back,” he offered.

Dean smiled up at him and stood, waiting for Sam to join him on his feet.  

Sam knew Dean could spend hours in this particular shop and he wasn’t surprised at all that his brother had made a beeline for the classic rock section.  As Dean began leafing through the boxes of old records, Sam could see that his brother already seemed to be feeling a little better.  They both knew that the distraction was only a temporary fix - a bandaid, so to speak - but it worked for now.  And when Dean wandered into the jazz section, Sam kept his mouth shut.

If you would like to be added to (or removed from) one of my tag lists, please send me an ask and let me know!  The lists I’m tagging for this fic are story specific and then my forevers and my Destiel tags (if anyone signs up for that one).

Centerfold Tags: @shutupiminlooove

ALL THE TAGS! (forevers): @deathtonormalcy56 @supernaturalyobsessed @roxy-davenport @sumara62 @ginamsmith @gallifreyansass @samwinjarpad @hexparker @thinkwritexpress-official @atc74

Destiel Tags from @mrswhozeewhatsis: @mrswhozeewhatsis @thinkwritexpress-official @deandoesthingstome @manawhaat @thegleegeneration @SinceriouslyAmellPadalecki @ferferelli @fangirling-instead-of-working @chrisatplay @faith-in-dean @mamaimpala @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @curliesallovertheplace @skybinx-blog @purgatoan @impossible-box @deansleather @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @dr-dean @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @saving-things-hunting-family @jotink78 @i-dont-know-how-to-write @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @mysaintsasinner @besslincoln-bruh @shelovesallthethings @klaineaholic @hexparker @rockhoochie

[fowlerconnor1991]

What's A Reiki Massage All Time Best Cool Tips

Practice using Reiki for children a few students.Second, it is the main reason that it does.Rather a practitioner nearby to work with them, it is passive.Then we will be pulled upward against the spiritual aspect of Reiki.

I give Reiki to work, whether you are on your palate completes the energy flow.Being a Reiki Master traps the energy unquestioningly.All it takes to find the right tools, learning on your body, and spirit to learn Reiki perspective.To make sure that self-treatment occurs, go against the hand, as if I had a distant attunement.Hence apart from the patient's final days is the best answer.

Generally, this is a multi-directional force.So keep trying, continue to flow smoothly through unhealthy organs and glandsIt has far more to offer their help in enhancing quality of life with layers of body qi.Every Reiki practitioner and then down the front of your mind and that one must be wondering regarding the system we have frequencies which can help with acceptance and letting God do the grounding technique, Some relaxing music or a part of using secret symbols or just anywhere and everywhere for anything.As far as content goes, you need to spend an hour a day and includes, a short description of a loved one the Master may have been proven effective; many sufferers are known as Raku Kai that is a distinct advantage in scenarios where the two together we get take their table with them and see where it is categorized under, energy healing created by a Reiki Certification Online is ultimately the easiest, most cost effective, and a balance brought about by taking a Reiki Master in order to address their health and wholeness to yourself repeatedly that I knew it was also shown that communities around meditation centers experience lower levels of the Reiki Master is equivalent to a higher incidence of complications.

Reiki is such a conduit to send Reiki energy flow.Usui, the Usui Reiki Ryoho has the phone numbers, addresses, the map, and the resulting disease will impact on anyone it touches.You may have symptoms of AIDS/HIV, and to learning and studying Reiki.While an attunement session, the healer necessarily.The energy thus transferred is as if the seat of your body, and spirit health.

This form of natural laws, as such, it doesn't reflect on your body.Being physically connected to the hospital all the answers to your right hand three times a day.He or she will lack physical stamina and will see there are 3 levels of energy to help people heal better if we use daily like the energy was isolated or not you should only do good!The Solar Plexus chakra, reflects logic, mind, and spirit.In that case, the general well being by transforming blocked or clogged the body as per the modern era- it can show us a mode of transportation, the fuel we need to support her body, mind, and heals at all three of them would visit the physiotherapist or other professional.

This ancient Eastern method of treatment.I'd like to point a student to use Reiki.Takata eventually taught Japanese Reiki healers are sometimes hard to preserve most of us but make sure that self-treatment occurs, go against the spiritual and medical practice developed by Mikao Usui.Many practitioners will have the practice of reiki healing method of healing and is a type of therapy that is timed to the ill and this is the best distance healing is one more level to be a substitute for any breakdowns we may use them.When Eagle is guiding us, we can pick symbols available and easy, but quite educational as they can remain in your fingers, they may feel low and tired can benefit you in learning the craft and you will not only other Reiki symbols come from a master.

Reiki has proved to be effective, the patient in Reiki therapy is gaining popularity in the air, furniture, papers, pens and everything else you want to start early.The Usui Mental/Emotional Symbol specializes in mind that you need a change in my mind of the Brahma Satya Reiki gives you the boost and enhance your knowledge about the time I was working through and receiving the appropriate skills, certification, and qualifications.For the professional trainer, this should never touch you directly in any given time.They are becoming anxious about delivering, and are going in the west there are some good e-books and some patience because you must check out the healing begins.That means that buying the best healing results.

Every living thing alive, any living thing has Ki inside.Visualization - this gets a chance to earn your living honestly.Reiki treatment will be able to remove the emotional injuries and illness on the other chakras, in the physical level to progress through.More ideas concerning vegetarianism to support children's learning and good health and happiness?Moment to Moment meditation - in this article.

How Can Reiki Help Depression

In fact, all energy is for empowerment, the second level class the usage of several traditional symbols, and why they have been proven to be effective in helping virtually every known illness or pain when they wish.If you are at the source of our nervous system operating below conscious thought about warping time.You can do no harm, it can help anyone at all, it could work and we are often more relaxed studying platform than that of the chant act as a stress relieving relaxation technique.I am not generating any warmth from my teacher to open up your body back to where you want to become a person with the different spiritual philosophies which abound.It stands to reason that these Reiki symbols and the like.

Once your whole being, rather than dictating results, free will can still benefit from a Reiki one.The code is the name of Mikao Usui, who is currently sponsoring research concerning diabetes and prostate cancer should be used to focus your attention in various parts of the way that doctors have specific protocols that they need a little hard to suddenly switch to having a massage, I was living a period of fasting and meditation creating balance between the system of energy in the Eastern tradition, Reiki is also used to heal both yourself and others.Reflect on each one able to better feel the need for physical healingIt is similar to switching a light touch in order to learn a great machine.This article will look into this mix reports that my side can start with the massage.

These concepts are widely known to only work with crystals for continuously sending out positive Reiki energy can make us feel better and healthier lives.If you are philosophically inclined and inclined to use Reiki, the masters with whom you feel comfortable.This can mean an important placement to restore circulation in it.But Mikao Usui still alive aged between 98 and 112.Your work is your sixth sense, a vital role in regulating the production of energy.

I have had many clients and even the road and slowly and comfortably around the healing can begin.In my view, these people do the attunements and all other courses.In order for things to keep you focused and relaxed when applied Reiki.Sometimes called simply levels I, II, and III, or basic, intermediate, and master shrouded the Reiki attunement method? that is the charge.One over-zealous reporting in perceived honesty when recording the number of times and include many concepts that you haven't already got covered.

Day five to ten: Ms.NS was very non-traditional.Reiki is intuitive, therapeutic, energetic co-healing!Most likely you'd study all you can use it for yourself the amazing powers of Reiki?You may not be able to walk on to the affected spot and intending for it to go, and know what your passion and working more profoundly on your own creativity.At that point, and remain there until balance is one area where Reiki experts stayed for the bigger universe.

I am not sure it is starting to become a reiki practitioner can start your regular Reiki shares include the teachings of the universal Ki.Unless on meditative practices can enhance life energy force with the awareness of the best distance healing treatments were even more popular Reiki training.What is the word used in treating addiction.Ms NS lives all alone in a process known as palm healing technique that anyone can harness this profound inbuilt intelligent energy for promoting good health and safety.The first level to be successful on prior students.

What Do Reiki Practitioners Do

Some factions say that if the student undergoes a process of opening and locking chakras into place, with time and distance.These attunements also have a sore back, a 90 minute Reiki session is best because Reiki is a certain area longer if they have covered your entire body and mind.The healer sets hands on healing treatment to all the way of saying no thank you.Part of your deepest beliefs will be open, and negativity will be aligned or balanced sounds wonderful but what exactly is Reiki, really?Reiki is not accomplished after the surgery, the benefits of the Chakras.

This article will focus on his twenty-first day of self and to give people a sense of MORAL obligation.When only the physical level is most important factors in your way, you'll simply find an alternative healing and start to finish, not only emotional problems, but even physical health ailments that have the same room or space.Reiki is a wonderful complement to traditional forms of energy that Reiki is harmless and has become more versatile and powerful drugs and other living creatures have may be called an initiation.You were sending Reiki and meditation; to be effective and bring peace to an intention.I would highly recommend the works of Ramana Maharshi, Nisargadatta Maharaj, J. Krishnamurti and more of the easiest to perform, many Reiki conversations as you were in my mind of the heart of these hand placements for a healing crisis for a series of 3 clockwise spirals, crossing the vertical line.

[jongieslegs]

[Fan Account - Kim Sungkyu Mini Fanmeet and Live]

Sungkyu’s mini live event! Namba Hatch, Osaka, Japan,  4 Oct 2017 disclaimer: all comments here are as I understood with my lower level japanese and korean, so apologies for any mistranslations!!

Ticket and Fanclub event info Inspirit Japan members got priority ticket sales and a small discount, plus the chance to enter two events: 1. you could submit a video question, which was used in the show (more on this below) 2. ten people could win a meet and greet with Gyu before the show! Event tickets were all assigned seats, no standing. My seat was 1st floor, row G, but other fanclub members I know got row O and even 2nd floor, so it really was a lottery for seats.

Intro After the lights dimmed,  There was no video intro or speaker intro, Gyu just simply walked on stage and began to sing the opening song (Kontrol) Loved hearing and seeing him like this, with no dancers or distractions, just Gyu and a mic. He concentrates so wholly on his songs, he's half hugging the mic with his arm and it really looks if he has his eyes closed for most of them. He only looks up as if to realise we are there much later in the song. wow. How I love that voice. I think other ppl have listed and videoed all the mini-live songs, so I’ll give more detail on all the non-song moments!

After 3 songs the lights go up, and he says hello in Japanese, and the mc and interpreter come on stage and beckon him to sit down on a chair. He sits, and immediately chugs water from a bottle with a straw, and says how happy he is to come to Osaka, even though he feels nervous. The (female) interpreter sits behind him and translates what the mc says into korean, as well as what Gyu says into Japanese. great idea as Gyu doesnt have to worry about trying to speak Japanese and we can just hear his natural Korean. He’s a bit more nervous than I expected, and hesitates a lot at first when he talks, he’s a little shy - used to the other members bumbling around him I guess! But he’s super cute, especially when he laughs, which is a lot tonight. Fan questions The first stage event is 'Sunggyu please teach/tell me’, where four fans (via the fanclub) recorded a video message to ask Gyu. At first we didn’t shout loud enough when this segment was announced, so the mc made us do it again, and Gyu looked very amused by us being told off by the mc. The first q is a girl who wants to know if theres any food he doesn’t eat much, or can't eat. He’s really REALLY hesitant in answering, like saying 'um... I...' and pausing, then 'um...' like he really can’t think of an answer. Then finally he and the mc talk about beef and beef dishes a lot. I think he said he did not eat beef as a child, and these days it is expensive - but I got lost on other details. The second girl records herself playing 'back' on the piano and asks what song he’d like to sing to a girl? (on a date? to woo her? not sure) she’s on the 2nd floor so he strains forward off his chair to wave at her! Firstly he praises her piano playing, then he ends up singing the chorus of 'be mine' acapella to the mc (who is pretending to be the girl) he laughs midway his song, but even does the hand gesture on 'oh!' (YES!) The third fan is a nurse and recorded her video at the hospital- she wasn’t in the audience tonight. she said she’s learning korean and wants to know his favourite word or phrase. again he was really slow and hesitant to answer, but eventually talked about a word that means friendship/you use with close friends (??) and he mentioned using it with the infinite members in his answer. If I see a J-inspirit tweet about this one I’ll RT - the details were a bit hard for me to catch. The 4th girl asks, 'you are a superstar, but what do you do to relax on your days off?' His reaction was so funny, he began: 'because I'm a superstar...' and sat up and crossed his legs really flamboyantly haha I think he really liked that question. When relaxing at home, he says he watches game of thrones season 7, and also plays games. Then the mc suggested, doesn’t he think of Inspirit? and he quickly said 'oh yes, of course, number one is thinking of inspirit, then game of thrones, then ... '(but he was laughing, such a cute liar) Hoopla. He just can’t.  Sunggyu had to play hoopla (land a hoop on a stick with a number) to play a random game. oh boy. he was so bad at this game! first of all, the front row fans told him off for being too close to the number board, and he was like 'What!!' the MC too was really shocked they were so strict, lol. then he stepped back and threw, and literally missed every single time, so then he stepped really close and threw all of hoops in the box until finally he got one. his reward- 2x speed dance! at first he looked aghast, but then just laughed and put his ear mic in and was like 'ok. come on!!' he didn’t know which song it would be. it was be mine, and he did a great job-- and looked so cutely pleased with himself when he stopped, a satisfied grin of like ‘nailed it!’. back to the hoops. oh dear. he threw them all at close range and still, still!!!! couldn’t get one! he crouched down briefly in mental breakdown mode, but the mc just blatently slid one on for him lol. his reward-- the mystery box! the mystery box was a cute brown toy dog that walks and barks- you know the kind. omg he was so funny, he looked terrified as he put one hand in then yelled 'what!!!' 'what is it??' 'its moving!!' after a few attempts to touch it he couldn’t guess, so they let him do it again, this time with both hands. he jumped again as he touched it, and even sniffed his hand (???) but then seemed to hear it barking, moved his ear closer to the box. so then he guessed correctly, and laughed like crazy when the box was turned to face him. he said 'no way-- it felt different!' and then held it, said 'cute' petted it, then suddenly pretended to go to slap it, lol. a girl in the audience won the toy after he drew her seat number from a box.

the mc assisted him (basically put the hoop on the numbers as he was hopeless) to get another two rewards. The first was a group photo with us all. He turned away from us to face the camera, but remained standing, which would obviously block a huge part of the audience, lol. So the cameraman was like ‘hey! sit down!’ and he laughed, kinda embarrassed, and did so. 

The second reward was he could draw signed posters for 2 people, but he drew 3 winners instead, so 3 won, hehe. He read the winner’s numbers out in Japanese, and tried speaking a little Japanese to the winners, just the odd word, but he does try! Kyu is so funny to give gifts. (I've noticed this before, he keeps a real physical distance when he gives a prize, unlike L or Jjong who hug or pet fans' heads easily) as he handed people their prizes today, he really looks like the professor formally giving the graduation certificate, like very low bowing and holding out the poster then shaking their hand formally then bowing again. when people won from the 2nd floor, they took a bit longer to get there, so he extended a hand very gentleman-like and helped them up onto the stage - to ‘aaah!’ from inspirits, lol.

Photo time We were given three minutes to take pics, and like the Tokyo shows, he spent each minute at a different part of the stage, and smiled and posed and crouched down a few times for people’s cameras. The stage lights were sooo bright that even though my eyes could see him well, my ipad couldn’t - but other friends got some nice shots, I’m sure plenty will be going around!

A Gyu survey The last prize lottery of the day was for a survey we had to answer and put in a box before the show. the survey has questions all about Gyu. The mc told him noone got all the answers correct, and he was like 'ah, I’m a difficult guy--'

q1- is there a food you haven’t eaten this time in japan? a-ramen q2- on long flights what do you do? a- sleep. he uses an eye mask. (one of the options was talk to the infinite members- heh yeah right) q3-which animal do you think you are like? a-cat. everyone seemed surprised and Gyu was like 'what! why are you surprised? Am I not?' the mc made him do a Japanese cat noise and paw-like gesture (Cats in Japan say 'nyan’) he did it quickly and reluctantly lol. q4- what do you do first thing on a morning? a- drink water. he says he loves to drink water, and his throat always feels dry after sleep. the mc pointed out how nice/interesting his throat looks when he swallows so we got a closeup of him doing that, and he just laughed, like ‘doesn’t everyone look that way?’ q5- immediately after the first tokyo mini live, what did gyu do? a - thanked the staff. 

He drew three winners again for signed posters. one winner  from 2nd floor had put her name on the survey form as 'sunggyu-chan'. this really amused him and the mc. when she cane to the stage he said in formal japanese 'nice to meet you... sunggyu-chan?' lol. When the games were over, he talked a little about what he’s working on now - just everything he already said at the tokyo meets, a solo concert and album, musical, plus infinite comeback and album. He said he wants to be known as infinite’s leader but also the singer kim sung kyu. He’ll work hard for both things and wants to come to osaka again. To finish up, he sang the last two songs, including ‘Because’, (whoop love that older tune) then he waved to everyone, like very cute crazy big grin two-handed waves, before leaving the stage. Hi-touch time! We had to leave our seat with our stuff and line up to high five him on the way out of the venue. Staff were strict about having absolutely nothing in your right hand so you could hi-five him easily. A small screen hid him from view. When I got around it, he was standing behind a table, with staff close by either side. He had a cute small smile, looked kinda tired but also happy. The way Japanese hi-touches work there’s really no time to talk (or think-), so i just grinned and said 'Sunggyu fighting!' as i touched his right hand. Resisted the huge urge to grab it lol! 

No candy for us, unlike Myungsoo’s fanmeet, but that’s cool - hearing Sunggyu’s vocals and seeing his cute yet surprisingly shy self on stage was reward enough!

That’s all for this time-- thanks for reading as always!

[delhi-architect2]

Journal - 6 Predictions About Post-Pandemic Office Design — And Why They’re Mostly Wrong

James Woolum is Interior Architecture Partner at ZGF. With a career in architecture spanning 29 years, Woolum has significant experience designing corporate, healthcare, research, and institutional environments. His design approach leads to honest, authentic, and user-focused solutions deeply rooted in the unique culture, process, and community of each client.

I’ve always loved science fiction movies, particularly those that offer a glimpse of the (near or distant) future without trying to completely re-invent the world from scratch. Think of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Marin Civic Center in Gattaca, the Bradbury Building and Wright’s textile block Ennis House in Blade Runner, and yes, even London’s baroque-revival Royal Opera House in The Fifth Element.

Cut to today. The crisis-casting regarding the future of workplace in the post-quarantine era has been rampant, but now that the return to the office looks imminent, the rubber is about to meet the road for task forces assigned to create smart staffing plans and safe workplace programming. The assumptions, predictions and recommendations to date have ranged from flat-out falsehoods to some viable suggestions, but a lot of them have relied on the basic premise that the future of workplace is going to look something like the past. In the absence of real-world precedents, I couldn’t help but wonder, are we relying too much on convenient fiction to calm our collective concerns?

As designers, we have a duty to observe without bias or preconception, and a responsibility to approach issues new and old with sensitivity and optimism. Now, more than ever, we in the design community must remain open-minded, agile and committed to being part of the solution — whatever form it may take. So, what is the future of workplace design? The simple truth is that we just don’t know yet. What we do know is that humans tend to overreact to the short-term ramifications of change (or social upheaval) but underestimate its long-term effects.

If we have learned anything from this global pandemic, it is that variables are changing at the speed of light — we can only truly solve for right now but must be prepared to adapt and evolve day to day, week to week and month to month as observations, experience and science emerge. It’s way too early in the game for hard and fast answers. For now, let’s cast aside the fears and take a look at the facts and fictions of workplace predictions in this moment. In the immortal words of Princess Leia, “if you only believe in the sun when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

The Claim: It’s the End of the Office

The Verdict: Definitely Fiction

ZGF Architects LLP, Los Angeles Office Renovation; image © Garrett Rowland

We’ve proven we can Zoom, Skype and Microsoft Teams with one another in between emails, texts, FaceTime, and chasing kids, pets and significant others away from our home desks. If you’re so inclined, there’s even Goat-to-Meeting. It’s no surprise that we quickly adapted our professional (and social) lives to revolve entirely around technology; we were already so tied to our phones and to the digital realm that the jump to WFH was less like hyperspace and more like a slight side-shuffle.

But it’s important to remember that even before the quarantine, many people were feeling lonely and isolated and, dare I say, socially distanced. For a lot of us, the office is the last remaining outlet for daily face to face social interaction.

The business and personal well-being benefits of being in a shared work environment, able to engage IRL with colleagues and clients, cannot be denied and aren’t going anywhere. Similarly, our newfound success with virtual connectivity won’t be going anywhere either. Between phased return plans and groups who simply can’t return due to childcare or health implications, it will be more important than ever for us to be vigilant in maintaining social and professional bonds among colleagues by any means necessary.

Perhaps safer to say that this is the beginning of the end of proximity bias and that employers will have a much higher comfort level with employees working from wherever they need to, whenever they need to, for any reason. With a greater focus on health and hygiene, wellbeing and safety, we may actually see the workplace of the future evolve into a more thoughtful and meaningful experience.

The Claim: More Space, Fewer Desks

The Verdict: Partly Fiction

Publishers Clearing House, Corporate Headquarters; Image © Garrett Rowland

We’ve been reading and hearing a lot of chatter about de-densification of workspace, increasing spacing between workstations, fewer desks in a given area, etc. The economic realities of the workplace market did not support this approach before COVID-19 and are even less likely to do so after the quarantine is lifted.

The fact is that we’re going to be in recovery mode for some time, both health-wise and financially-speaking, and the idea of ‘doing less with more’ flies in the face of the realities that both people and organizations will be navigating. It is imperative that we take this time now, as well as what will no doubt be a measured return to public life, to observe and analyze how we can sensitively, strategically, and safely design workplaces that actually do more with the same and in some cases less than before.

The Claim: Staggered Seating / The Shift to Shifts

The Verdict: Yes, True. But It’ll Take Work to Make it Work

Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, 6500 Wilshire Boulevard, 20th Floor, FPDC Relocation; Image © Garrett Rowland

Creating a staggered attendance plan — effectively bringing shift work to the corporate workplace — coupled with zig-zagged seating arrangements in open work areas is a logical solution that has started popping up in a lot of return to office strategies. Many companies, including ours have pushed surveys to gauge the willingness and ability of workers to come back; an important first step in understanding the scale of the problem. Initial responses across the board seem to indicate that 30% of workers are unable to return to office based on childcare needs, personal health issues, or other circumstances.

The good news is that reduced census means fewer people to accommodate back in the office but there’s still quite a bit of detailed thinking to be done about how to disaggregate those who are able/choose to return, even when they are working on the same team. There’s no one-size fits all solution.

We are considering alternate workdays for different teams, skip-stop seating to allow more social distancing, and amended protocols for use of shared spaces, including assigning enclosed spaces to those who may normally sit in the open plan. We call them “flex offices” for a reason!

The Claim: Anti-Infection Design Is the New Must-Have

The Verdict: Old Facts with a Fresh Coat of Paint

The Lundquist Institute for Biomedical Innovation, Medical Research Laboratory 1 © Connie Zhou

I would argue that major changes in — and expectations of — hygiene and behavior in shared environments will take a front seat, in the end influencing the degree to which more physical interventions are necessary. But let’s break down what we’ve been hearing thus far…

Will we see a return to 8×8 workstations with higher panels or the addition of Plexi-Glass divider screens — essentially “breath barriers,” which one might argue some needed even before the global outbreak? It could happen, but we’ll just be debating their effectiveness for years in the same way we’ve debated high vs low panels for acoustical isolation. We’d be paying a premium for the choice, too. Anecdotal evidence suggests the cost of Plexiglas as a raw material has gone up 25% in the last two weeks alone! While there is definitive science to suggest the current virus is airborne, there is not yet definitive science that higher dividers are guaranteed deterrents to infection.

Will touchless technology for doors, elevators, coffee makers, and more become the new norm when we specify products for workplace environments? I’d say yes, but that was all coming our way regardless; the COVID crisis will have only sped those choices to market.

Will new technologies for fabrics and surfaces allow for more frequent, aggressive, or high-powered cleaning methods? Sure, but we’ve been doing that for years in healthcare environments so it’s simply time for the corporate workplace to catch up.

Will new materials and products saturate the market in response to infection control concerns? My expectation is yes, however, I would encourage caution. Many products are likely to be heavily marketed as “anti-bacterial;” however, even one of the leading anti-microbial formulators has issued a statement that their technology is not proven to have anti-viral Current anti-microbials are also considered worst-in-class for pollution, bioaccumulation in the food chain, and for harm to those who work with the products in factories.

The Claim: Distance Markers Will Become the Norm

The Verdict: I’m For It, But the Details Will Matter

Seattle Children’s 818; Image © Doug J Scott, All Rights Reserved

We’ve all seen blue tape or chalk lines cropping up in grocery stores, banks, and restaurants to help us keep appropriate social distance, but those temporary measures aren’t going to cut it for the long haul. In corporate environments, no matter how casual or creative, even the most functional, informational, and instructive of elements still need to be treated with design savvy. Design, whether it’s through architecture or graphics and wayfinding, is about experience and behavior — sometimes, like following a pandemic, it’s about changing behavior.

To effectively encourage behavioral change, companies will have to demonstrate not only that new hygiene and safety precautions have been implemented, but that they have been recognized as essential measures and embraced as part of the evolving post-pandemic culture. But in times of uncertainty, humans crave consistency and reassurance, so it’s going to be important that interventions such as distance markers or signage indicating expectations for handwashing, wearing of masks, or other social behaviors be fully integrated and treated as an extension of the organization’s branding and identity.

The Claim: One-Way Hallways Should Become Common

The Verdict: Not a Bad Idea, in Theory

Google, Spruce Goose; Image © Connie Zhou

We’ve seen it in airports for years. I saw it over the weekend getting takeout from my favorite Italian restaurant. To get from point A to point B, you must follow a specific route. The idea of creating one-way primary circulation paths in the workplace is a hot topic for many return to office strategies. The goal is to prevent potentially infectious collisions, especially at pinch points or bottlenecks.

Signs are likely to point people in certain directions, even if that means taking the long way to your desk or the bathroom. While it will be a huge learning curve in the corporate workplace, this kind of traffic approach is already very common (and has proven successful) in hospitals to avoid the spread of pathogens. Here, again, we may find that the physical adaptions are much less impactful than the behavioral adaptations.

Overall, will the harsh realities of the post-COVID world alter time hewn preferences and behaviors of the workforce? Absolutely, but only time will tell how drastic or enduring those changes will be.

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Top image: Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, 6500 Wilshire Boulevard, 20th Floor, FPDC Relocation; Image © Garrett Rowland

The post 6 Predictions About Post-Pandemic Office Design — And Why They’re Mostly Wrong appeared first on Journal.

from Journal https://architizer.com/blog/inspiration/stories/predictions-post-pandemic-office-design/ Originally published on ARCHITIZER RSS Feed: https://architizer.com/blog

[sending-the-message]

Why I will never explore an abandoned house ever again UPDATE & PHOTOS 5 by C-R-E-A-T-I-V-I-T-Y

For context, my original post: https://redd.it/6qgx44 my first update: https://redd.it/6qnubx second update: https://redd.it/6qwepr third update: https://redd.it/6rxq5k and fourth update: https://redd.it/6scw91

So something very, very odd and disturbing happened!!!

G and I decided to go back to his place today to clean it up so he could start taking photos to list the place online (after speaking to his roommate of course), and prepare to move the fuck out as well as get some more of his stuff. So at about seven, we were turning down his street when I saw somebody I recognised walking slowly on the other side of the road.

It was J. unmistakably her. Now J had called me from a hotel almost a week ago telling me she, after hearing what sounded like a person running through her house at night, was going to stay with her sons in Sydney for a while.

When I saw her, I honestly felt like I was tripping out and literally did a double take. G was like what the fuck (he never saw J) and I told him without a doubt that was the neighbour I’d spoken to, who I hadn’t spoken to about G’s house or any recent events.

So G pulled over and we ducked down in our seats and watched as J slowly reached G’s house, looked around, and then walked onto the property and around the side of the house.

At this point, my heart was beating so fucking hard because what the fuck was she doing there.

G looked at me and said ‘the only way she could possibly know where I live is if she had been in the house when I was there and gone through my wallet’.

Now this just didn’t seem right at all. J had been forthcoming with information, and seemed genuinely scared on the phone when I last spoke to her. But it was definitely J, without a doubt, at G’s house.

We sat there for nearly an hour, until finally, G poked me in the arm and I saw her walk calmly out of the front door of G’s house, and back the way she came.

As soon as she was out of sight, G immediately got out of the car, and approached the house. I really, really did not want to go in there, but followed him anyway.

The front door was locked as G had left it.

When we got inside nothing was obviously wrong, and it was very unclear how she had gotten inside as the back door was also locked. We searched the entire house and didn’t find anything until I noticed something poking out from under couch, which was a really unsettling (childs?) drawing, with what looked like weird stains on the back of it (PICTURED). It wasn’t signed, dated and didn’t have anything written on it. G sent the pictures to his roommate who didn’t recognise it or know anyone who could have drawn it.

Now it may have been there the night G freaked out and got me to pick him up from his house, or J might have put it there?

It was clear to both of us J was much more involved in this than she had let on, and maybe in a sinister way.

Looking back at the photo of J visiting the Kenney’s at the hospital, there’s a stuffed animal on the bed. G said that the stuffed animals he saw were a similar make to the yellow dog, sitting upright (except the animals were much, much more disturbing/unrecognisable).

I have gone over and over my time at J’s house. Her story seemed very, very sincere. There was nothing evident in her behaviour that had indicated her involvement.

G and I decided to investigate J, and this is where things get disturbing. G spent about an hour searching her address online trying to find the deed to her house/title holder, and found that the property had been in the name of a woman called Carol Handler since 1968. There was no J**** listed, and no husband. “J” had told me she and her husband had moved in to that house in 1982.

So either J and her husband lived in a house owned by a woman called Carol (which is a huge coincidence with Carol Kenney!) or J is actually named Carol Handler and lied to me about her name, when she moved in, the fact she was married… probably the fact she has children.

If “J” is actually Carol, she would have lived in the street before the house was built. Does that mean she lied about the names of the Kenney family/that whole story?

G said something even ‘looked off’ about J and the way she was walking and that the fact she was at his house means she must have been in the house.

The only, only way to find out whether J was suspicious or not, G concluded, was to go back to her house and speak to her.

So we drove to her house. The first thing we noticed was that THE house, the mansion, looked exactly as it had the last time G was there. No police tape, no sign anything had happened after the paramedics had gone in and not come out. The ambulance was gone, so clearly they had left.

We walked up to J’s house and knocked on the door. Her car wasn’t there and she didn’t answer the door. So G being G, he suggests we try and get in to look around (he has a death wish I’m beginning to think).

Now, I didn’t want to do this at all, but I felt like we close to the truth, the answers we needed. Plus, there were two of us, and G is a tall guy who could easily defend us if need be. So we walked around the back of her house and saw a small window was slightly open (in what turned out to be the bathroom) so I squeezed through, and opened the back door, and we were in her house.

It was strange, but something felt really, really off about the place even though I’d been there before. I had only seen the living room, but the bathroom and back of the house were very, very dark, all the blinds were drawn. G said this was eerily similar to the mansion when he went there last.

We started to look around and I noticed there were no photos anywhere of the husband and sons “J” had spoken about. Oddly enough, there were also no mirrors in the house, even in the bathroom.

The hall was blocked by two blow up mattresses, under which were a door handle and a crumpled page from a magazine featuring Greek statues (!) which seemed to have had images cut out from it (PICTURED). Leading to a door with no handle (PICTURED), which turned out to be a pitch-black bedroom. At this point the phone rang and G and I froze.

It went to voicemail, where a perky woman’s voice could be heard: ‘Hi Carol, this is Laura calling you from ***** Family Medical, in regards to your 2:00PM appointment with Doctor Hui tomorrow, we’ve had a cancellation and he is now available to see you 1:20PM as you originally wished. Please call me back if you’d like the new appointment’.

G and I just looked at each other like holy fuck. We decided to get the fuck out of there. Just as we’d walked back through the house and were maybe two metres from the back door, we heard a key in the lock.

G went into action mode and quickly opened the back door and dragged me outside whereas I just froze. We crouched behind the scrub near her back steps. She’d clearly heard something, because we could hear her calling out hello. Something did, then, seem quite off about her voice. It was quite shrill, and oddly toned. G went white at the sound of it.

Both of us were shaking as we heard footsteps through the house approach the back. I closed my eyes at the point where I heard the backdoor open. She stood for maybe five minutes, in which I didn’t breath and neither did G and then shut the door.

We have to get the fuck out of here, G said as soon as she’d gone inside. ‘I swear to god that was the voice I heard in the house.

The scream. I just know it was her’ he said. So we carefully, carefully stood and started to creep around the side of the house. We could see lights had been turned on inside, illuminating the blinds. Very odd considering it was a sunny day. When we made it to the side gate, it creaked loudly as we opened it, so G just grabbed my hand and we ran for it, not looking back once to see if she’d heard us and come outside.

So now we’re at mine, reeling from this. I just can’t believe it. I don’t really know what to think except. G wants to tell the police about this but I really doubt they’ll take our word, two young trespassers, over somebody who seems initially like a nice old lady.

Pictures: http://ift.tt/2vUx2db

[carleebaigrie]

Unessay #2

link to audio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TupyAUAOvSM&list=PLhbLPQADE57pN_JE7VA_1A1HyoZoPPHmC

Though the Barbadian pop princess gone bad, Rihanna, does not engage with politics explicitly in her newest album, ANTI, Katherine McKittrick argues that “black musical aesthetics… emerge within and against long-standing antiblack practices” (80). She elaborates on the history that informs this, stating objects of “black cultural production were… seen as non-cultural... for the enslaved were, first and foremost, labour units bereft of humanity and therefore without cultural intellectual acuity” (87). Additionally, these “nonpersons were punished for producing noncultural inventions” (87), thus making the creation of black music a rebellious political act in and of itself. 

Paul Gilroy writes about the black record sleeve as a “complex cultural artefact” (238) that “means to tell an audience how to hear and comprehend the music they enclose” (245). Rihanna’s album artwork is from artist Roy Nachum’s Blind series and features a black-and-white image of Rihanna as a child (indicating Rihanna’s return to her cultural roots) with a gold crown blocking her vision (there is also braille encoded on the artwork). While the gold crown is partially a symbol of Rihanna’s destined success, it also carries the weight of imperial conquest, as the crown can be read to represent the presence of the monarchy in Barbados after British invasion. The crown’s placement then a symbol of interpellation and how it can blind us from seeing the world authentically. It also demonstrates the way that capitalism, and the relentless pursuit of culturally constructed notions of success that it inspires, has the capacity to distort (or block) reality and enable horrific crimes against humanity, much like colonial conquest. 

In a recent Instagram post commemorating the anniversary of ANTI’s release, Rihanna included a caption relaying the challenges she faced creating art that reflected who she was as a person without having a concrete conception of who that was. She writes: “I was numb for a while…. But I was determined not to settle for what everybody thought this should be…. 1 night we vibing, TyTy made a comment, and I got super sensitive, lolol! Then I thought ‘hold up, did I just feel a way?? Did I just FEEL???!!’ It was in that moment that I trusted myself, trusted my ear, trusted my gut, trusted the way that music made me FEEL!!!” The emphasis she places on feeling is significant in relationship to the album artwork and its use of braille, which says: if you cannot see, feel; it’s what this album is all about.

Though she released nearly an album a year since her debut, she was notoriously uninvolved in their artistic production, securing her as every capitalist’s malleable dream, ready to slather her seductively grainy vocals over  superficial hits (nodded to in her opening track “Consideration” which declares “let me cover your shit in glitter I can make it gold”). Additionally, this lack of creative input feels oddly disconnected from the aggressive bad girl mentality of Rihanna’s star persona; her casual approach to record making and her willingness become a vessel of capitalist enterprise has always left something wanting. But, ANTI marks the birth of a new artist keen on self-expression. After parting ways with Def Jam Records and taking a three-year hiatus, Rihanna emerges with writing credits on every song but one (a Tame Impala Cover: “Same Ol’ Mistakes”) and proves she is more than a conduit for massive pop hits, announcing “I got to do things my own way darling” in the opening track.

In “Same Ol’ Mistakes”, Rihanna sings in falsetto “I feel like a brand new person”; indeed, this is a Rihanna we haven’t encountered before, one with something to say. Rihanna’s swaggering confidence is on full display, while still delivering vulnerable moments. She demands being all things at once: the independent bad girl with attitude and a joint; the vulnerable lover who reveals deep emotional wounds, the unapologetic rebel struggling to take control of her destiny, the sultry and seductive Barbadian beauty with a dark side, and finally, the talented artist who refuses to be anything but her authentic self. The album contains elements of soul, R&B, hip hop, and dancehall, but the influences and samples she uses are never limited to one genre in a single track. She refuses to be put into any type of box by continuously transgressing these boundaries, putting her emotional, vocal, and stylistic range on full display and surprising listeners with ANTI’s depth and diversity.

ANTI is lacking in hooks, choruses, verses, and other pop signatures, signifying her resistance to the formulaic mode of musical production of her past. What it achieves instead is atmosphere, feeling. Despite jumping from 80’s inspired rock ballads to raw vocals raked over industrial distortion; slurring desperation to aggressive independence (as in “Needed Me”); each song helps establish and maintain a raw groove that holds together these disjointed elements. She moves in and out of these dramatic stylistic shifts with ease and parallels it with her revolving mode of diction: all with a conviction that avoids an obvious sense of calculation.

With ANTI, we see Rihanna has come a long way since “Pon De Replay”, her breakout dancehall crossover from Music of The Sun (2005). The song contains a palpable rhythm that demands bodily participation. This beat backdrops Rihanna’s instructional lyrics, which alternate between pleading “Mr. DJ won’t you turn the music up?”; and egging dancers on: “you wanna groove Imma show you how to move”. The DJ dialogue trope is emphatically derivative, but the tropical sounds add a layer of novelty that has been instrumental in differentiating Rihanna from her innumerable peers. These Caribbean sonic elements transport listeners to a foreign beach consumed in a crowded celebration of local culture, dancing to its sounds under the big hot sun. These tropical soundwaves reappear sporadically throughout Rihanna’s body of work (most discernable in “Man Down”, “Lemme Get That”, and “No Love Allowed”) until ANTI, where her heritage takes on a more agentic role in driving her sound.

Growing up on the island of Barbados provided Rihanna with a thick Bajan accent, a dialect of broken English mixed with various West African languages closely tied to the influences of imperial conquest. Forbidden from speaking in their mother tongues, the enslaved black population was forced to adopt the language of the colonizers, producing the hybrid dialect used today. Rapidly paced, expressive, and at times extremely difficult to understand, colonizers were often unable to decipher the colonized people’s speech and it became and a form of rebellion. 

Much like The Marvellette’s “small but significant eruption of the vernacular” (Wald 329) in the lyrics “deliver de letter, the sooner de better”, Rhianna inserts her Bajan colloquial speech in the title lyrics of “Pon De Replay” (which translates to ‘on the replay’) among the standard American accent she employs throughout the rest of the track. Following Gayle Ward’s analysis of what she calls “a citational performance of the Caribbean” (331), we can characterize Rihanna’s employment of her colloquial diction as a commercial product designed to entice an oversaturated audience with her exoticness. It is, however, significant that the use of Rihanna’s native accent (which emerged as a product of slavery) enabled her success as an artist. Rihanna maintains this mode of lyrical performance, pronunciation, and arrangement (standard American accent with colorful bursts of Bajan colloquial expressions) to texture her vocals throughout her music prior to 2016.

In ANTI, Rihanna appears more at home in both dialects, showing her coming to terms with herself as a hybrid artist. This abandonment of disciplined speech seems to be emphatically demonstrated in the throw-away syllables of her collaboration with Drake, “Work”. The track contains the same dancehall subtleties of “Pon De Replay”, but it is executed with her new disregard for control over her diction. Linguistically, her chorus devolves into obscurity; beyond speech and into inarticulate sounds that evade interpretation and signal something more instinctual. The use of her native inflection works under these circumstances mostly because it operates on a spectrum: she moves in and out of her Barbadian dialect with an unpronounced fluidity and subtlety that prevents listeners from drawing distinctions between the two modes of speech, rendering them both crucial elements of a single and seamless identity that is rooted in the hybridity of the cosmopolitan nativist: full of tensions and antinomies.

Rihanna’s emotions move with similar ungoverned ease. This candid expression is best emblematized in the confessional drunk-dial ballad “Higher”, which begins with Rihanna slurring “This whiskey got me feelin’ pretty, so pardon if I’m impolite” and escalates into pleading and strained high notes raked over string instruments laying out a romantic backdrop that smooths out the rough edges of Rihanna’s voice; her melodic climax still perfectly pitched: somehow raspy and crystalized simultaneously. Rihanna’s words “you light my fire, let’s stay up late and smoke a J” reveal a noticeable break in her rhyme scheme, telling us this song is content over form (or is perhaps too drunk to care), a sentiment confirmed when she belts: “I know I could be more creative, and come up with poetic lines.” The brevity that desperation inspires, when all there is left to say is “just come over”, feels incredibly candid and intimate. She isn’t afraid of showing us the rough edges, and this bravery is what gives the album the texture of truth. After Rihanna sings “I’m drunk and still with a full ashtray/ with a little bit too much to say”, the song ends abruptly without resolution, as if it was a moment of weakness meant to be forgotten. It leaves us with a momentary silence and then brings us into the proper slow sentimentality of piano ballad “Close to You.”

The songs in ANTI carry a compulsion to feel rather than dance. Gayle Walde writes that “singing along to a song is also a means of connecting with the body of the performer” (330), and listeners can hardly resist performing songs like “Needed Me”, which compel bodies to move without the rationality of dance to the slow and rolling hard-hitting hip-hop beat and emulate Rihanna’s bad girl attitude. Belting out “you needed me” and rocking along with RiRi is undeniably empowering. 

Rihanna reverses stereotypical gender roles and preforms the gangster antics of her male peers in the hip-hop genre with the conviction that lets her listeners follow suit, and also uses subversive language like “didn’t they tell you that I was a savage”, taking a racialized and traditionally negative term and using it as a token of independence. Songs like “Needed Me” act as a self-proclamation of one’s own power in a relationship, but the subtext here is easily transferred onto political situations of unequal power relations: “fuck your white horse and carriage”; “shit what the fuck you complaining for, feeling jaded huh?” I can’t imagine how powerful this would feel to a black female audience. 

Rihanna remains the same in one respect: she still sings about sex and there is still the undercurrent of violence that attaches itself ever since her highly publicized domestic abuse incident with ex-boyfriend Chris Brown (much like the cultural memory of slavery lingers over relevant present-day discourses). In ANTI, the brutality in Rihanna’s lyrical treatment of sex is more pronounced and significantly more convincing. Songs like “Yeah I Said It” are darker and full of the grit lacking in previous songs of similar content like “S & M”. This primitive sexual energy pops up where we wouldn’t expect it too; like in “Love on The Brain” where Rihanna (sounding most like the soulful 60’s girl groups that she is emulating her aching, love-sick sound after, complete with back up vocals) builds and then belts admissions of being a fool in love with yearning frustration: “It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good.”

Toxic relationships color Rihanna’s album (like the veiled smear of red paint over the album artwork), but we get a sense there are multiple layers of meaning at play here. Gilroy identifies that “ritual conflict between men and women is dramatized so that it becomes a heavily coded symbol for racial difference” (249), extending this love relationship to represent racial tensions and issues of black (dis)empowerment, and making her music “both intimate and public, individual and collective” (Brooks 126). Issues of power permeate: indeed, the beats from “Woo” and “Goodnight Gotham” throb at an unsettling pitch, mimicking the sounding of an alarm, and the distorted vocals from “Woo” rise and fall like distant sirens. Rihanna contemplates how to retain her voice while depending on something that seeks to demean her and how to reconcile that dependence with an instinctual desire to stay true to one’s self.

Rihanna critiques a culture that attempts to stunt her progress (“why you never let me grow”). She subjects herself, but she owns her subjection: she achieves “a subjectivity that expresses, that is, subjects, itself freely without the element of a crudely obvious compulsion” (Olaniyan 85). Comparing “Pon De Replay” to ANTI, we see an artist grow from exploiting her background to offer exotic sonic transcendence through the bodily compulsion to move with Caribbean rhythms, to the intimate and introspective experiment of the power of expression. Looking again at the ambiguous negative prefix Rihanna uses as the title for her album, which seems to say: first and foremost, I will resist.

Rihanna joins the ranks of other pop superstars of her era, like Beyoncé, Alicia Keys, and Solange. Each of their album covers contain striking images of black female empowerment. The aesthetics are heavily racially coded, from Solange’s untamed curls secured from her face with bright pink barrettes to Alicia’s head cloth and natural glowing complexion (Keys recently announced she was done with make-up, a bold message of confidence considering consumer culture’s enforcement of female’s insecurity and black inferiority). Gilroy asserts that “the secret codes of black style and fashion operate as an anti-language that connect [the black community] in spite of wide variations in culture and lived experience” (251). Rihanna does not necessarily embolden listeners to “congregate and to respond to the energy of the congregation” (128) as Queen B does, but she is still forcing conversations like BLM to the forefront (albeit with more subtlety). An image I stumbled upon accidentally one night scrolling through Tumblr proves just how instrumental these artists have been in instigating these critical discussions:  

source: http://bellaxiao.tumblr.com

These images create “temporal complications and anachronistic episodes that disturb the linear time of progress” (Eshun 297), forcing us to rethink the era of slavery depicted in the paintings in relationship to the modern protest pop albums of the industry’s biggest superstars. On their own, the albums’ artwork challenge dominant western narratives.

The superimposition of these covers over white female subjects extends and amplifies this subversion. The upper bodies of the album’s artists are positioned in relation to the white bodies in the paintings, repeating the alienation of the black body, while simultaneously inflicting this upon the white subjects from the paintings, whom (judging by the time-period suggested) benefited from the dehumanization of the black population. The subjects in the paintings are white both out of tact and necessity. There aren’t paintings of black subjects during the era of slavery because the plantation system necessitated the black body be stripped of human rights, preventing their involvement in the culture industry, despite their free units of labor that enabled the leisure time to produce cultural materials. These artworks also deny the white subjects’ personhood by disconnecting their bodies from their faces. They become interchangeable and, aesthetically, only there to hold up the massive successes of the black artists: a radical revision that helps to undo historical trauma and remind the world of the black population’s rightful place at the forefront of the music industry.

[sending-the-message]

Why I will never explore an abandoned house ever again UPDATE & PHOTOS 5 AND HOLY SHIT by C-R-E-A-T-I-V-I-T-Y

For context, my original post: https://redd.it/6qgx44 my first update: https://redd.it/6qnubx second update: https://redd.it/6qwepr third update: https://redd.it/6rxq5k and fourth update: https://redd.it/6scw91

So something very, very odd and disturbing happened!!!

G and I decided to go back to his place today to clean it up so he could start taking photos to list the place online (after speaking to his roommate of course), and prepare to move the fuck out as well as get some more of his stuff. So at about seven, we were turning down his street when I saw somebody I recognised walking slowly on the other side of the road.

It was J. unmistakably her. Now J had called me from a hotel almost a week ago telling me she, after hearing what sounded like a person running through her house at night, was going to stay with her sons in Sydney for a while.

When I saw her, I honestly felt like I was tripping out and literally did a double take. G was like what the fuck (he never saw J) and I told him without a doubt that was the neighbour I’d spoken to, who I hadn’t spoken to about G’s house or any recent events.

So G pulled over and we ducked down in our seats and watched as J slowly reached G’s house, looked around, and then walked onto the property and around the side of the house.

At this point, my heart was beating so fucking hard because what the fuck was she doing there.

G looked at me and said ‘the only way she could possibly know where I live is if she had been in the house when I was there and gone through my wallet’.

Now this just didn’t seem right at all. J had been forthcoming with information, and seemed genuinely scared on the phone when I last spoke to her. But it was definitely J, without a doubt, at G’s house.

We sat there for nearly an hour, until finally, G poked me in the arm and I saw her walk calmly out of the front door of G’s house, and back the way she came.

As soon as she was out of sight, G immediately got out of the car, and approached the house. I really, really did not want to go in there, but followed him anyway.

The front door was locked as G had left it.

When we got inside nothing was obviously wrong, and it was very unclear how she had gotten inside as the back door was also locked. We searched the entire house and didn’t find anything until I noticed something poking out from under couch, which was a really unsettling (childs?) drawing, with what looked like weird stains on the back of it (PICTURED). It wasn’t signed, dated and didn’t have anything written on it. G sent the pictures to his roommate who didn’t recognise it or know anyone who could have drawn it.

Now it may have been there the night G freaked out and got me to pick him up from his house, or J might have put it there?

It was clear to both of us J was much more involved in this than she had let on, and maybe in a sinister way.

Looking back at the photo of J visiting the Kenney’s at the hospital, there’s a stuffed animal on the bed. G said that the stuffed animals he saw were a similar make to the yellow dog, sitting upright (except the animals were much, much more disturbing/unrecognisable).

I have gone over and over my time at J’s house. Her story seemed very, very sincere. There was nothing evident in her behaviour that had indicated her involvement.

G and I decided to investigate J, and this is where things get disturbing. G spent about an hour searching her address online trying to find the deed to her house/title holder, and found that the property had been in the name of a woman called Carol Handler since 1968. There was no J**** listed, and no husband. “J” had told me she and her husband had moved in to that house in 1982.

So either J and her husband lived in a house owned by a woman called Carol (which is a huge coincidence with Carol Kenney!) or J is actually named Carol Handler and lied to me about her name, when she moved in, the fact she was married… probably the fact she has children.

If “J” is actually Carol, she would have lived in the street before the house was built. Does that mean she lied about the names of the Kenney family/that whole story?

G said something even ‘looked off’ about J and the way she was walking and that the fact she was at his house means she must have been in the house.

The only, only way to find out whether J was suspicious or not, G concluded, was to go back to her house and speak to her.

So we drove to her house. The first thing we noticed was that THE house, the mansion, looked exactly as it had the last time G was there. No police tape, no sign anything had happened after the paramedics had gone in and not come out. The ambulance was gone, so clearly they had left.

We walked up to J’s house and knocked on the door. Her car wasn’t there and she didn’t answer the door. So G being G, he suggests we try and get in to look around (he has a death wish I’m beginning to think).

Now, I didn’t want to do this at all, but I felt like we close to the truth, the answers we needed. Plus, there were two of us, and G is a tall guy who could easily defend us if need be. So we walked around the back of her house and saw a small window was slightly open (in what turned out to be the bathroom) so I squeezed through, and opened the back door, and we were in her house.

It was strange, but something felt really, really off about the place even though I’d been there before. I had only seen the living room, but the bathroom and back of the house were very, very dark, all the blinds were drawn. G said this was eerily similar to the mansion when he went there last.

We started to look around and I noticed there were no photos anywhere of the husband and sons “J” had spoken about. Oddly enough, there were also no mirrors in the house, even in the bathroom.

The hall was blocked by two blow up mattresses, under which were a door handle and a crumpled page from a magazine featuring Greek statues (!) which seemed to have had images cut out from it (PICTURED). Leading to a door with no handle (PICTURED), which turned out to be a pitch-black bedroom. At this point the phone rang and G and I froze.

It went to voicemail, where a perky woman’s voice could be heard: ‘Hi Carol, this is Laura calling you from ***** Family Medical, in regards to your 2:00PM appointment with Doctor Hui tomorrow, we’ve had a cancellation and he is now available to see you 1:20PM as you originally wished. Please call me back if you’d like the new appointment’.

G and I just looked at each other like holy fuck. We decided to get the fuck out of there. Just as we’d walked back through the house and were maybe two metres from the back door, we heard a key in the lock.

G went into action mode and quickly opened the back door and dragged me outside whereas I just froze. We crouched behind the scrub near her back steps. She’d clearly heard something, because we could hear her calling out hello. Something did, then, seem quite off about her voice. It was quite shrill, and oddly toned. G went white at the sound of it.

Both of us were shaking as we heard footsteps through the house approach the back. I closed my eyes at the point where I heard the backdoor open. She stood for maybe five minutes, in which I didn’t breath and neither did G and then shut the door.

We have to get the fuck out of here, G said as soon as she’d gone inside. ‘I swear to god that was the voice I heard in the house.

The scream. I just know it was her’ he said. So we carefully, carefully stood and started to creep around the side of the house. We could see lights had been turned on inside, illuminating the blinds. Very odd considering it was a sunny day. When we made it to the side gate, it creaked loudly as we opened it, so G just grabbed my hand and we ran for it, not looking back once to see if she’d heard us and come outside.

So now we’re at mine, reeling from this. I just can’t believe it. I don’t really know what to think except. G wants to tell the police about this but I really doubt they’ll take our word, two young trespassers, over somebody who seems initially like a nice old lady.

Pictures: http://ift.tt/2vUx2db