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jikookuntold · 4 years ago

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What happened to Jikook in May 2015?

“How Jikook Started?” “Jikook and significance of May” “Jungkook and his Song Recommendations” were all the titles I thought about for this post and I ended up with the one you see. But what made me write this? A few days ago I came across an old tweet of JK from May 2015. This tweet was a song recommendation which I hadn’t notice before because I was only focused on 123 theory and as we all know this theory starts from October 2015 and I thought maybe we should pay more attention to the other songs JK recommended either. So I decided to go deeper and when I checked the tweets from May to August 2015 some interesting theories came to my mind.

Jikookers believe Jikook’s relationship changed in INU era and for proof of this theory they discuss some moments (long stares, exchanging jackets, etc.) but I’ve never seen them paying attention to the songs JK recommended in this era. It’s obvious that not all the songs he listens, likes or recommends are about romantic aspects of his life. On the other hand, musicians listen to any kind of song and this helps them for their career so not everything has to have a secret message or meaning, but no one can ignore the fact that when you feel connected to some lyrics and it captures your emotions you tend to share it with others so they can understand your feelings. This is more relatable for introverted people, an introverted person with artistic features uses different forms of art to express their feelings and JK is one of them.

JK’s song recommendation tweets started at the end of 2014 with “Lee Yerin -Your Universe” on December 24th and continued with “Misty Miller - Best Friend” on February 22th, and two songs on March 9th“King Krule - Baby Blue” and “Years & Years – Memo”. This declaration was necessary for this post but I’m not going to analyze these songs here. These songs are very significant (especially the last one from an openly gay artist with very expressing lyrics) and they need their own post.

After “Years & Years – Memo” JK didn’t recommend any song until May 24th. It’s interesting how there is a pattern for dates of his song recommendation tweets, it’s like he spams Twitter for a week and then deletes the app for months. Even his tweets in general, follow this pattern and most introverts can relate because sometimes we feel like expressing ourselves on social media, and some days we avoid it at any cost.

So, what happened in May 2015? Why Jikookers think this period is significant in Jikook history? Jikook had some obvious moments in INU era, JK seemed to be enchanted by Jimin and Jimin had became quieter and more preserved but still captivated by cute maknae. The most notable moment from this era happened on May 5th at Sukira Radio Interview where the MC asked about Jimin’s love for JK and Jimin answered: “There is something about him I don’t like but he is cute”. JK’s reaction to this answer is remarkable especially when Tae almost exposed them by saying “I think he kinda likes men” about Jimin and Jimin didn’t deny it.

A week later, on May 13th BTS went to Kota Kinabalu to film the Summer Package and Jikook filmed a log together before coming back to Korea. A few weeks later on June 5th when they were in Malaysia for Red Bullet Concert, they asked JK in an interview to describe Jimin "Jimin hyung is such a nice guy. His personality is just too nice. And he keeps giving me nice food. And when he smiles, his eyes are so pretty. He's the most charming guy on the team. If I were a girl I would date a guy like Jimin hyung." He answered. Fun Fact: They didn’t ask him who he wanted to date if he were a girl, but yet JK managed to state this anyway. They had asked this question from the members since their debut but JK never had chosen any member for someone who wants to date, and this moment was a turning point in JK’s attitude especially toward Jimin, even Jimin himself was shocked by JK’s answer. This fact directs us to the main question: What did happen in May 2015?

How was JK feeling at this point? Did something change in him? We can’t give a precise answer because we don’t know his emotions unless he shares them with us. As I said earlier, sharing music is a good way to express emotions. With recommending a song you can share your feelings without being too obvious (and get away with it because they are not your words, duh?) JK didn’t recommend any song after March 9th for two and a half months and finally, on May 24th he felt to share music and became active again. But three days before this date, Jimin had shared a song, surprisingly.

We know it’s not very common for Jimin to recommend a song especially in the style Namjoon and JK do, but on May 21st he recommended a newly released song named Pretty Bae by Lee Hyun and Park Bo Ram, here are the lyrics translations:

They say I’m pretty these days that I’m like a woman

They ask me, do you even have any flaws?

They say I look good these days, my friends tell me

Is there anyone out there like me?

I walk on this street while humming

I feel good today for some reason

I wanna date someone pretty

A person with a pretty heart rather than a pretty face

I wanna date someone nice

A person with a warm heart rather than a good body

Had a cup of coffee on the weekend, watched a movie I wanted to see

It’s all good but what’s missing?

A person to laugh at my boring stories

Where is that person?

I walk on this street while humming

I feel good today for some reason

I wanna date someone pretty

A person with a pretty heart rather than a pretty face

I wanna date someone nice

A person with a warm heart rather than a good body

He’s not handsome but nice-looking

She has no makeup but she shines

Is he looking at me?

What if she catches me? I pretend not to see

It feels good, should I go to her/him

And carefully start a conversation?

I wanna date someone pretty

A person with a pretty heart rather than a pretty face

I wanna date someone nice

A person with a warm heart rather than a good body

I wanna have a pretty love

A person with a pretty heart rather than a pretty face

I wanna date someone nice

A pretty person, a nice person, I hope it’s you

As you see, the lyrics are about someone who is feeling pretty and wants to date a person with a good and warm heart but he/she secretly wants it to be him/her crush. Jimin’s timestamp is on the last part of the lyrics saying “A pretty person, a nice person, I hope it’s you”. And three days later JK posts a screenshot of a song from Kehlani (an openly pansexual artist) named “You should be here”. Here are the lyrics:

I'm looking right at you, but you're not there

I'm seeing right past you, but you seem well aware

Your body is here but your mind is somewhere else

So far gone and you think I can't tell

Can't tell that you are disconnected

You pulled away and I miss your presence

I always said to you

Baby, you should be here, right here

Don’t know where you went but you're lost now

Don’t know where you went but you're gone now

Don’t know where you went but you're lost now

Don’t know where you went but you're gone now

Head on your chest babe, but your heart is so quiet

We used to talk all night long, now we laying in silence

Your arms around me but your soul is somewhere else

Gone so long and I know you so well

I know that you are everything that I ever dreamed of

And hoped that love had a happy ending

Baby, you should be here, right here (yeah-yeah)

Baby, you should be here, right here (you should be here, right here, right here)

Don't know where you went but you're lost now

Don't know where you went but you're gone now

Don't know where you went but you're lost now (oh-whoa)

Don't know where you went but you're gone now

You should be here, right, right here yeah

The lyrics are talking about someone who the artist cares about and it feels like that person is physically present but his/her mind is somewhere else. He/she wants that person close, not just physically but also mentally and emotionally. A few hours later, JK recommends another song, this time a famous song (any Shrek lover know this by heart) I need some sleep by Eels: Here are the lyrics:

You can't go home like this

I try counting sheep

But there's one I always miss

Everyone says I'm getting down to low

Everyone says you just gotta let it go

You just gotta let it go

I need some sleep

Time to put the old horse down

I'm in too deep

And the wheels keep spinning round

Everyone says I'm getting down to low

Everyone says you just gotta let it go

You just gotta let it go

*Fun fact: This song was on Jimin’s playlist in 2017.

This song is about mental and emotional frustration and exhaustion, being deep into something, and seeking redemption. We can’t tell if JK is expressing this about himself or someone else since his timestamp is on the part saying “You can't go home like this”. But the song JK recommended the next day (May 25th) is another story and has a straightforward message. “Can’t help falling in love” is a hit song by Elvis but the track JK post is a cover of this song by Eels:

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?

If I can't help falling in love with you?

Like a river flows, surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be

Take my hand, take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes. Some things are meant to be

Take my hand, take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

The lyrics don’t need any explanation. His timestamp is on the part saying “If I can't help falling in love with you?” this part comes after the part “Would it be a sin” and makes it more remarkable. It’s obvious that there was something big going on with his emotions at this point and when you put these four songs together (one from Jimin and three from JK) you can see the roller coaster of feelings very clear. But the next day (May 26th) something interesting happened which relays my theory. Namjoon recommended a song named Pray from Younha and this was the thing he wrote in the caption of his tweet: “For all the broken-hearted” Sure this can be to anyone but two weeks later on Jun 10th JK recommended the same song without any caption. Here are the lyrics:

When you are lost

I will shine a light

When your heart shakes because of the wind

I will hold your hand

I am praying for you

Praying that you will be protected

So that my hopes can reach you

The closed door is slowly opening

I hope you won’t cry over your scars

Or get trapped in despair with pain

With all my heart, I hope you will be comforted

Today, I’m praying again

I am praying for you

Praying that you will be protected

The world has become harsh seas

For you, who has left for the voyage?

I hope you won’t cry over your scars

Or get trapped in despair with pain

With all my heart, I hope you will be comforted

Today, I’m praying again

When Namjoon literally recommended this song two weeks before, why JK had to do this again? Unless he had something to express through lyrics. As you see the lyrics are about pain, despair and getting emotional scars or as Namjoon captioned “something for broken-hearted people”. Two days later JK posted a video of himself walking and singing in the night, the song he was humming was from Yoon Jong Shin and here are the lyrics:

On January 13, which was especially cold, I first met her, who laughed a lot

She said she never spent a birthday with a boyfriend before

She liked shoes and bags and that was so cute

She said I looked sad from behind as she took a picture and smiled

On the sunny first day of April, I made her cry for the first time

After seeing her pretty eyes get puffy, I cried too

Every time we fought, we always used the word “break up”

We wouldn’t talk to each other for days, having a tense battle

Would she know that my heart raced every time I went to pick her up?

I have never met anyone who was better than her in my life

On June 17, she was struggling and broke up with me

In the end, I gave her a scar, although I didn’t mean to

A month passed, a year passed and still, there are times when I miss her

Whenever I pass by that street in Ichon-dong, it’s still clear like it was yesterday

The park at night, the hamburger store, the rice bowl store in the basement

There is so much emotion in this lyrics and you have to be really in love and broken-hearted to hum this song in the dark let alone filming and posting the video. After that JK didn’t recommend any song for two weeks and he came back on June 27th with another straightforward message. A song named Love Me Again by G.Soul and here are the lyrics translation:

It’s already been a few years

And we’re standing in front of each other like this

As if nothing happened

Just like the old days

As I look at you

Who is calling me a good friend?

I tried to hold it in

But I need to tell you something

I know I hurt you but

Could u love me again?

Without knowing, I’m in love with you again

So could u love me again?

I didn’t know love back then

Baby love me again

Baby please please please

Need u love me again?

It’s already 3am

We’re both getting a little drunk

As if it’s nothing, you talk about your new boyfriend

As I look at you

Who is calling me a good friend?

I can’t hold it in

And I have to tell you something

I know I hurt you but

Could u love me again?

Without knowing, I’m in love with you again

So could u love me again?

I didn’t know love back then

Baby love me again

Baby please please, please

Need u love me again?

Oh please believe me girl

This time, I’ll really

Love u harder

Oh baby one more time

Love me again

I know I hurt you but

Could u love me again?

Without knowing, I’m in love with you again

So could u love me again?

I didn’t know love back then

Baby love me again

Baby please please, please

Need u love me again?

Oh baby just please please, please

Could u love me again?

Again, love me again, again

Oh girl I need you to

Love me baby

Love me again

He wants that person to give him another chance and love him again. He confesses that he has hurt that person because he didn’t know love back then and doesn’t want to be “the good friend” that person sees him now. He wants that person’s love. JK didn’t recommend any song after this for another two weeks and came back on July 10th with a song RapmonHyung has recommended to him: Tears by Le So Ra

Me in the mirror inside the cramped dark room…

The dismal face is quite ugly

Foolish like this, I’m left behind

But I still long for you.

Miserably left behind like this,

I just make unwelcome calls

It’s okay if you get mad at me

It’s okay if you make me cry

Just turn all your attention back to me

It’s okay, just say anything

It’s okay if you mock me

I’m like this only with you, oh my own.

Like a speck of dust in this cave-like room

I’m foolish and I’m left alone

I miss you again today before you miss me

I’m miserably left alone like this

And again I call you before you call me

It’s okay if you get mad at me

It’s okay if you make me cry

Just turn all your attention back to me

It’s okay, just say anything

It’s okay if you mock me

I’m like this only with you, oh my own.

In the mirror, I look so ugly

This song is about being left alone and rejected. His loved one is mad at him and doesn’t give the love and the attention he/she used to give before. Four days later he recommended another song named Romance by CHEEZE and here are the lyrics:

With a red balloon full of

Your deep flowery scent

You surround me in your

Lifeless hollow smile

All our warm memories together

Can’t melt my heart

That has been frozen over

By that cold stare of yours

Walking through the night, side by side

The faint silhouette of your back

Still haunt me as my sweetest nightmare

Like the strings of a puppeteer

Losing sleep over the cold half of the bed

As your wandering image gently crushes me down

Walking through the night, side by side

The faint silhouette of your back

Still haunt me as my sweetest nightmare

Like the strings of a puppeteer

Walking through the night, side by side

The faint silhouette of your back

Still haunt me as my sweetest nightmare

Like the strings of a puppeteer

This is another song about someone who used to be warm and loving but now has a cold stare with no emotion. In my theories, this emotional conflict started in May and ended in August. Why August and how it ended? In August 18th Japan fan-meeting Jimin fainted and apparently this had a big impact on Jikook’s relationship. The day after, when Jimin came back on the stage JK did a beautiful interaction with him. Two days later JK did a live stream and sang a song named I will give it all to you. Three days later Namjoon posted screenshot of this song with the caption “Jeon Jungkook OST”. Here are the lyrics:

I have something for you

I have something to say tonight

I will give it all to you

My love that's about to burst

There's nothing I can't do for you

After picking the stars, I'll fill your hands

I have something for you

I have something to give you tonight

There's nothing I can't do for you

After picking the stars, I'll fill your hands

I will give it all to you

My love that is about to explode

The lyrics are talking of a beautiful love about to burst and the lover is ready to sacrifice and do anything for him/her love even if it’s bringing the stars in the sky and hand it to his/her lover. 12 hours later Jimin tweeted something suspicious: “The stars in the sky (musical note emoji) (surprised emoji)”. This tweet has no media and the caption has no hashtag except Jimin. It seems like someone had brought the stars in the sky for Jimin and it has something to do with music either. I wonder who it would be…

Conclusion

I tried so hard to not express my theories and leave the conclusion to you but some facts are undeniable especially when you put them together with the events and moments that happened in that period. I (rightfully) believe that the chronology of the events is extremely important and it can tell you more than just a surface without reading too much of it. If you don’t like theories or you have your own theories just don’t read this part because I don’t want to change anyone’s mind:

We all know about Jimin’s affection for JK in their debut years. I don’t think that was something fake or exaggerated, he really adored JK and wanted his attention (maybe he was aware of their mutual crush, I don’t know) but he could never imagine this turning into something serious. But it did and JK was the one who noticed this first and took action but he got rejected and became broken-hearted. This rejection was the result of fear, fear of an unknown future. Jimin’s love for JK was still strong but he had to reject JK to stop things from getting worse and out of hand. But in JK’s eyes, everything was different. He wanted him back, he was missing Jimin’s affection because he had found out that he is in love, the thing he didn’t know beforehand (I think memory of the rainy day has happened at this era, or maybe I’m wrong) After weeks of emotional conflict, finally they were at the same page and they were ready to make their relationship work. JK assured Jimin about his love and it seemed like a happily ever after but little did they know about their future and fate.

#jikook #jikook analysis

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eerythingisshaka · 6 years ago

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Play Though?

(Dad!M’Baku x Reader)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This kind of came to me from the movie Claudine with Diahann Carroll? The characters are gonna have the same sort of attitudes as the main one in that movie. A relationship that isn’t a storybook one, swept off of your feet one, but still good. Who wants that perfect love story anyway?

So, Reader is a single parent and one day in the park meets someone that steals her concentration. The rest is below...

You rub your temples as you hear the clatter of metal and plastic banging around in your brain. Throbbing pain emanates from your skull as you get up and head to the kitchen, walking over the land mines of hot wheel cars, Legos, and army men figures scattered about your living room carpet.

“Mama! I have a big race to do! Wanna see?” The gleaming, round faced, mahogany toned golden child that is your son asks.

You put on a weak but sincere smile as you pour some water to and shake a couple aspirin in your hand. “I do want to see, Xavier. Just give mama a minute to get a drink first.”

“Ok. Mama, can I have some juice?” Xavier gets up, trotting into the kitchen to the fridge.

You stop mid sip, reaching out to keep him from opening the fridge. “What did I say about getting something before I tell you to?”

Xavier’s large brown eyes widen even more as he knows what to say. “You say to wait.”

Nodding, you continue. “Wait for mama to say yes or no. Now get off the door and ask me again.” You cap the aspirin and put it in the cabinet.

Xavier fidgets with his hands, spinning in a circle as he spoke. “Can I have some juice mamaaaa.”

You cross your arms, smiling devilishly. “After you clean up all those toys in there.”

Xavier makes a stink face, coming over to hug your legs. “I want to play still.”

“I thought you wanted juice?�� You ask, examining the life expectancy or the braids he’s been wearing.

“Uh huh, but-”

“Then you need to clean up your toys.” Pointing him towards the living room, you dig for your phone to double check your shopping list. “You should anyway, we’re going to the store to get some stuff for dinner. You’ve had nuggets three times this week, and probably more including daycare.”

Xavier noisily throws his toys in the bin one at a time. “Uh uh! Ms. Adams gave us fries one day, and-and pizza!”

You roll your eyes as you scroll your phone. “That’s not a balanced diet, X. They don’t teach you about eating fruits and vegetables yet?”

Xavier clangs his cars hard into their bin, annoying you to the nth degree. “Xavier, you got one more time to throw that in there ‘fore I light you up. Clean up right!”

Xavier hangs his head, braids curtain his face as he slumps to pick up each toy and put them in the tub, painstakingly slow. You rest your head on your fist, jiggling your foot as you watch him get on your nerves in the most minute ways. Xavier peers over at you periodically whenever he goes to pick up a toy to see what you’re doing but you remain unphased, waiting patiently as he wastes your time and his own. What a five year old has to have an attitude about is beyond your thoughts to grasp.

“Xavier Maurice, you have two minutes to pick up the rest of these toys from off this floor, otherwise you are not getting any juice, or iPad time for the day. It’s your choice.”

Xavier moos at your ultimatum, picking up his pace only slightly, but scooping his toys by the handful. You would correct him on his tone, but he caught you on a good day. One thing your son has taught you is how to pick your battles.

The sun was shining and the air felt warm for a change, so you and Xavier walked down to the nearby farmer’s market you’ve been meaning to try out. The place is packed with whites in cargo shorts and Columbia fleece jackets as you calmly peruse the array of tomatoes, cucumbers, oranges, apples, fresh herbs, homemade pastas, and all other artisanal, organic ingredients you could get your hands on. Xavier was not having it, doing his best to remain calm but he is five.

“Mama, where are the PopTarts? And-and cereals?” He whines, reaching for an onion on the bottom row of a stack. You swiftly stop him, preventing what would have been an avalanche on him and a hefty guilt bill for you.

“Hey! Same rules at home, apply out here. Don’t touch anything.” You smell a pear just for the hell of it. The possibilities were endless for you to make some sensible and fulfilling meals for the two of you, but you also had to think realistically about Xavier’s picky eater status and your limited time to cook during the week. They may not have had PopTarts, but you found some homemade ice cream that seemed decent enough to try.

After you put together a good looking basket full of items and pay, you head back to your house to get things started. Xavier helps you carry a bunch of bananas in a bag when a nearby park catches his eye.

“Mama! Can I go play there?” Xavier asks, bouncing on his toes.

You look to the playground area. It wasn’t very crowded and he could probably run off some energy to earn a nap later.

You fake like you’re thinking hard, making Xavier beg even more, sticking out his pink bottom lip. You couldn’t torture your baby any longer.

“Fine, go ahead. But stay on the playground, don’t go off with anybody. And if I call you cuz I can’t see you, you better come to me, ok?”

Xavier nods happily, shoving the fruit at you before booking it across the grass and through a gap in the hedges lining the park’s perimeter to get to the bright colored construction.

You take this time to sit back on a park bench, feeling the coolness of the wood against your legs and back, mixed with the warmth of the sun beaming down.

This actually wasn’t a bad idea in the grand scheme of things. You got time to enjoy nature, sit down as your child is occupied, giving the screen time a break for the both of you. And you can people watch, which is your favorite pastime. There are two white women chatting in deep conversation as you see a blonde hair girl lick a rock before tossing it to the ground, and brunette one hanging from the monkey bars falling hard on her back, head bouncing off of the concrete. She starts to scream bloody murder, but when she gets up, you assume it is from embarrassment more than pain. Her mother’s neck whips around to find her before scooping her up and cooing at her questions, asking if she is alright, etc.

Looking past them, you see a little Black girl swinging on the swing set, hair in braided pigtails held by bobbles, smiling widely as her little legs kicked to build up her momentum. Behind her is a man. And by man, you mean a MAN. Dark wash jeans that accentuated his thick legs; clean chocolate sneakers on his feet; and dark brown Henley shirt that took on the privileged task of masking the full extent of his broad shoulders and impressive chest; dark brown leather jacket.

You suddenly feel very aware of your T-shirt with a questionable stain that you hid with an old university jacket and your old worn out jeans that Xavier scribbled on once and you tossed on in a hurry. This guy looked like the last person you would expect to be pushing a little girl in a swing at a park. More like pushing you up against a wall and-

“Mama! Come push me!”

The sound of your child calling out to you snapped you from your sudden romance novel fantasy and you picked up your bag and headed over to the swing set. You tried to avoid looking at the man pushing the giggly little girl in front of him as you took your spot behind your son.

“I’m gonna go higher! You’ll see!” Xavier taunts the little girl as he grips the chains awaiting your assistance. She sticks her tongue out while gliding toward the sky.

“X, be nice! This isn’t a competition.” You say as motherly as you can, without an inkling of a sour tone.

“Oh it isn’t?” When he spoke, you almost missed your next turn to push Xavier. The deepness of his tone shook you more than you cared to admit, along with an accent you couldn’t place? You were done for.. Looking over at him, you get a full and up close shot of his appearance. His smile is youthful and inviting despite his large appearance, with the gap in his teeth you would’ve laughed but not to be rude. It just brought out your playfulness and made your brain melt as you tried to multitask.

Laughing stupidly, you say, “Well, I mean, swinging isn’t a sport or game. You just swing and enjoy it.”

He shrugs, pushing the little girl as she cackled at her speed of motion.

“Harder mama! I wanna go higher!” Xavier demands.

“You heard him Mama, harder!” He says with a slick smile, as he also pushes his child with more force. You shook the implication of innuendo from your mind as you pushed Xavier farther.

“Listen, I’m getting tired of both of y’all telling me what to do. Men, I swear.” You murmur under your breath, looking at he sideways.

“Oh like women are so easy to please? This little girl has had me up since 7 am with her tea parties and Doc McStuffin reruns and baby shark. All I can say is ‘yes ma’am, of course sweetheart’.”

“As it should be.” You chide him. Xavier’s laughter is at its peak excitement as he passes the little girl on one swing.

“I told you, I got you!” Xavier says.

“X!”

“Baba!” The little girl bellows out all of a sudden, dragging her heels across the gravel to bring herself to a stop. So that is his child, you thought.

“Yes, ọmọbinrin?” He asks, kneeling down to her level beside her. She put her small hands to either side of his face looking very serious.

“I want to be alone now. You embarrassed me in front of my friend.” She gets up and goes over to Xavier who stops his swing to. She takes his hand and escorts him to the sandbox.

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth as you snort. He looks up at you, slowly getting up.

“You find that funny?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

You try your best to look serious but you can’t help it. “Um, ahem. I mean, hey you are right. Nothing but ‘yes ma’am’ with that little girl. You are wrapped around her fingers and toes, Mr….”

He kisses his teeth, looking over at them. “M’Baku Rotimi. And maybe so. But I’d rather have it that way. She doesn’t cower from people who test her, like her daddy.” M’Baku puffs his chest out slightly for mass effect.

You ignore the twitch you feel at when he says ‘daddy’, trying to stay cool as you look away. “How old is she?”

“Jolasun four, going on 40, very mature and bossy like a certain Miss....” M’Baku mutters anticipating your response as you give him your name.

He looks you up and down slightly. “And your boy, X?”

“Xavier. Five, and every bit of it. It’s funny, he seems to follow your little girl’s word more than my own.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse. You might want to warn him about that, Pretty girls grabbing ahold of his attention too quick. Happens to the best of us.” M'Baku says scratching the back of his neck, looking at you like he has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You laugh in a way that was supposed to be condescending but comes out more like a seagull caught in barb wire.

“Oh am I supposed to pick up on something with that statement?” You ask in a challenging tone.

M’Baku puts his hands in his pockets, taking a small step towards you. “No, no, I’m not a poet, nor do I beat around the bush. You are very beautiful and witty, with a son who looks well taken care of.”

You take a step back, flustered but cool on the surface. “Yeah, of course, because I know how to do that.”

“Alone?” M’Baku asks inquisitively, cocking his head to the side. You exhale sharply, flabbergasted as you take this as your cue to leave.

“I should probably get going. I have to make dinner and stuff so…” You turn to pick up your bag and soon as you do, the ice cream falls out, along with other items. It’s condensation from its container worked a hole in the bottom of the paper sack, rendering it useless.

“Fuck!” You curse, picking up the too soft ice cream.

“Here, I can help you with that.” M'Baku picks up the bag carefully, using the other side of the bag that is hole-less, balancing so the contents don’t fall out the top. You have what spilled outside of it already.

“God, you don’t have to do that!” You say, attempting to take the bag out of his embrace.

He lifts it higher, turning from you. “Eh! I feel at least a bit responsible talking your ear off, please. Allow me.”

His eyes are sincere enough, you thought. It’s not like you watched Dateline the night before and saw something about people using children as bait for kidnapping women. You shake the notion out of your head, figuring you’re being a little paranoid.

“I don’t live far, unless you drove.”

“We don’t live far either, so it’s fine; she felt like walking today. Jolasun!”

“Xavier! Come on, we gotta go!”

“Can Jola come with us, mama!?” Xavier asks out loud as they dust sand off of themselves.

“Yeah, she and her Dad are coming, hurry up!” You bellow, thanking M'Baku again cautiously as you all walked to your place.

The weather almost felt like summer by the time you got back, kicking off your shoes as you and M'Baku plop the goods on the counter as you wiped your brow and caught your breath. Xavier and Jolasun run for the bin of toys.

“Xavier, I don’t want a mess. You can watch TV, no toys right now.”

Xavier is barely phased by the change in plans as he gets the remote, expertly selecting his choice of programs.

M'Baku puts the ice cream in the fridge as you start organizing the food in their proper places. “Thanks again. God that woulda been a mess without you.”

M'Baku unpacks the bananas. “It’s all good. You seemed a little off balance, so I figured this might tip you over if I didn’t help.”

You scoff as you shut your fridge door. “Off balance? What does that mean?”

M'Baku takes a breath before ripping an imitation of your seagull squawk with embellished eyelash batting and a hair flip.

“What? What is all of that? I don’t sound like that either.” You say, offended but entertained.

M'Baku leans on the counter peering at you suavely. “Maybe not exactly like that, sure. Can I make it up to you with showing how to use some of these ingredients you bought?”

You put a hand on your hip, pointing a loaf of bread at him. “Now you have stepped over the line. I can cook burn my own kitchen down, thanks.”

M'Baku chuckles. Looking in the living room at the kids who have gone quiet except for the TV. “I am trying to impress you, but you’re taking it as an offense. The saying is, what is it…’thou doth protest too much’?.”

You roll your eyes walking around him to see what the children were up to. Looking over the couch, you can tell they were slumped in a way that for sure meant they were asleep. Before you could confirm, you feel a sharp pain in your foot.

“AGH-” you exclaim, before clamping your mouth with you hand and bouncing back. You feel M'Baku’s hand on your side, the other holding our arm to keep you steady. His touch is hot on you, his body must run naturally warm, you noted; hands rough but gentle and careful when holding you. His close proximity to you helped you to realize how good he smelled; earthy and natural with a clean laundry finish.

“Are you hurt? What was that?” M'Baku asked, but you hushed him as he spoke, pointing and mouthing that the kids were asleep. He gets wide eyed and mouths an “oh”, letting you go to pick up the spare army man that Xavier neglected to pick up this morning.

You sat on a chair at the kitchen table, rubbing the bottom of your foot as you watch him bend over, some skin exposing on his lower back exposing how even toned his melanin is and you are thankful.

“I would offer to help you clean but you may not like that either.” M'Baku says, dropping the toy in its proper place.

You roll your eyes so deep you see your brain. “Sir, I will never say no to free maid service if you are offering, but my son couldn't care less how many legos stab the soles of my feet.”

As he walked over to join you at the table, M'Baku lays a hand daintily on your knee. “I am at your service. If that means I am seeing you for a second date, I would be honored.”

“Second?” Your voice rises as you question him, watching him smile. You are really beginning to love that smile. “Let me ask you this: what makes you assume I am available to date? That I don’t have a husband on the way home any minute?”

M’Baku looks around the kitchen. “I see no pictures, you have no ring, and if you did, I would curse him for being so lazy as to not help you with your shopping list.”

You stare at him a moment before scoffing. “You really want to cook for me huh?”

M’Baku throws his hands up. “That would be a great start! I have many vegetarian dishes you would fall in l-”

“Oh, whoa, wait. You? Babe the Blue Ox, is a vegetarian?”

M’Baku twists his lip up at the nickname. “I’m not familiar with the moniker, but I am!”

“Is that what life is like from wherever you are?”

“Kansas? Yes, of course.” M’Baku rests his chin on his fist, looking at you innocently before breaking with a smile.

Your body relaxes as you tap the table with your fingertips thinking over your options. A man you met on the playground, gorgeous and foreign man, wants to see you again and make you dinner. Without any weird vibes, bad lines, or perverse insinuations?

“Mama?”

You snap to look in the living room, seeing a little hand stretch up from the couch. “Can I have juice now?” You spring up, thankful for the distraction to go check on your son. Jolasun is rubbing her eyes as well.

“Sure thing baby, you’ve earned it. Mama will have some too, she’s kind of thirsty all of a sudden. Jolasun, you want some?” You ask, grabbing some grape juice to pour.

“I think we’ll just head out actually. It’s been good, you’ve got dinner to cook.” M'Baku answers, getting up to go over and pick Jolasun up in his arms.

You didn’t even feel like cooking, especially now when there were two broad, strong spare hands ready to light your taste buds on fire. “If you truly have somewhere to be, yeah, no problem.”

“Can Jolasun come over again?” Xavier asks looking up at M'Baku with his cup in his hand. Jolasun’s head springs off her dad’s shoulder to glare at him, making M'Baku laugh. “If Jolasun is good with it, I think we can arrange something.” Jolasun smiles, giving Xavier a thumbs as he smiles with purple juice stained lips.

“So, we can all just….meet up again sometime in the future. Make plans between us, and that should be fun!” You say informally, trying to keep things casual, no mentions of a date to roll of your tongue.

M'Baku’s eyes light up as he hugs his daughter winking at you. “Good, it’s a date. Take my number down and we can talk.”

You sink into the floor, submitting your number into his device as he asked. So much for avoiding the ‘D’ word. You all say your goodbyes then, closing the door and feeling like you can breathe for the first time all day as you plop on the couch. But you still feel an extreme amount of energy. Now you have a date to plan, but how long has it been since you’ve been on one? What would you wear? Should you buy more food for him to work with? And shit! He is a vegetarian! Xavier don’t care about not a ne’er vegetable!

“Mama, that was fun! I can’t wait to see them soon!” Xavier exclaims jumping in your lap with all of his weight.

You wince at his knees in your thighs, picking him up and lightly slamming him down on the pillows in retaliation. “Ohh! I can’t either, X.”

Masterlist

Ragtag

@yaachtynoboat711 @chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @sarcastic-sunshines @great-neckpectations @wakanda-inspired @klaine15689

(This will be a series, so just ask if you wanna be tagged!)

#m'baku fic #m'baku x reader #shakafic #black panther fic #fanfi

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braindamageforbeginners · 7 years ago

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Day 36, Radiation 24, Serum Infusion 5 (sort of)

I realize that I tend to be discursive and verbose (in writing, anyway, I’m a surprisingly quiet person in real life); HOWEVER, dear reader, if the potential walls of text seem intimidating, let me just say, I cover a helluva lot of ground in this one. Benchmarks shall be reached; insights had; exhilarating heights and terrifying lows reached. Or, yesterday marked an important date, I had some critical insights to surviving deadly diseases (

So; yesterday marked the final initial serum infusion (I know that sounds like I’m a demented time traveler; hang with me). The “initial” treatment period for GBM - usually agreed as the “critical” treatment period - is a six-week course of 42 days of chemotherapy, 30 radiation doses (you get weekends off), and, in my case, five injections of Abraham Erskine’s Special Sauce. This is followed by a 20-30 day vacation - of sorts, followed by a year of on-again-off-again chemo (and, in my case, added bacon bits to Dr. Erskine’s elixer). That’s if everything goes well. If the radiotherapy (which is the very best that every single physician I consulted with recommended) isn’t as effective as predicted/hoped; you can start planning on what requests you’ll make for Tom Petty and Whitney Houston. I mean, there are some things they can do to forestall the disease, manage symptoms, etc. but that’s pretty the cancellation notice on a TV series you were watching. Again, I am amazingly horrified, upset, and angry that my life expectancy and potential is dependent upon which artificial rogue proton hit which carbon ring in an alien invader in my brain. And I’m going to be getting sentenced (as it were), in a month, and a helluva lot will be due to random chance. And healthy people would see this whole thing that the end is in sight, and thus begins a new stage of life (here’s a teachable moment, healthy folks; if you have a friend with a progressive disease, the stages are that they get worse until they die; new stage of life is that they get to skip some stages). So, yeah, after a year of awful news, it feels rather less that the parole board is convening, and much more that the Roulette Wheel is spinning. And I suppose the secret to doing this thing with grace and courage (which, again, I have no intention of doing; I was born a miserable misanthrope) is figuring out how to maximize those spins before the cashier collects. But, that is still a full month off, there are still positive (and negative) possibilities in play, and we shall leave the dark Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come for the rest of the post in favor of me (I suppose I’d be the Ghost of Christmas That one Time Dad Accidentally Misplaced and Mislabeled Everyone’s Gifts, So the Day Ended in a Really Stupid Series of Arguments)(I mean, I love the Christmas Carol, but I think we can all agree that I’m much more in the vein of idiotic-yet-funny family history stories we use to scare Grandma into silence)(Again, ladies, I am single).

So, we start events bright and early yesterday with me getting my blood drawn. Which always sucks, but I have learned a few tricks over the years (holding the phlebotomist’s family hostage in case they have to stab you more than three times isn’t as effective as you’d think). I have really hard-to-find veins; they’re small, you can’t see them, and they clench up and hide well after a bad attempt. But, I now have the patter down to a fine art, and most decent nurses and phlebotomists can do it by the second try (the record number of attempts, for anyone keeping score, was an MRI tech in NoCal - this was back in the days when techs were allowed to inject dyes into patients on their own; the rules have since changed). The vampire tech in question got me on the first time, and, then installing the IV, accidentally spritzed me with my own life essence. In all fairness, I’ve suffered worse the last time I spilled a drink, in terms of liquid exposure. And, because it’s me, it’s not even the first or second time I’ve been drenched in my own blood - it might be the third or fourth time, I’d have go back and tally them up (and, although “drench” is far too strong a verb in this instance, it wasn’t strong enough to capture the previous occasions)(I desperately wish I was making this up). Now, this wasn’t terribly painful, or, as it turns out, even very inconvenient - thankfully, there’s some mega-methanol fabric cleaner on hand (I don’t know why this surprised me; I’ve had a semi-permanent place in the hospital system since before I could vote) - which is fortunate, because the constabulary takes a dim view of grown men with blood stains on their crotches (that wasn’t some sort of design on my part, it was just a weird - albeit amusing - outcome of the angles and pressures involved. Anyway, after securing the IV in place, and making me presentable for a court appearance, the Vampire Tech (and this isn’t a slam on her, or anything; it’s just that the job of drawing blood and installing IVs is done by - according to my count - nurses, phlebotomists, technicians, nurses in training, training phlebotomist technicians - you get the idea; there’s 45 possible job titles for the person sticking me with an 18 gage needle)(crucial tidbit for future patients; 20-22 gage needles are about the smallest they’ll use on an adult, and, if you have a documented history of hard-to-find veins, you might want to consider asking for one of those) apologized to me for the mishap; I reciprocated, and she mentioned that she’d used a slightly smaller needle than she thought and moved a little faster, based on my description. She then mentioned - and I do hope you are sitting - that I have really, really big veins, they’re just a bit hard to find.

THE BETRAYAL. ALL IS LIES. You have to understand, folks, I’ve been told that I have small, hard-to-find, hard-to-poke veins, and, all this time, I have mid-grade kitchen pipes. I have to believe - because I’ve had my blood drawn more often than Lance Armstrong in the last sixteen years - that someone would’ve mentioned that my veins are fine, they’re just invisible and not where you expect them, and I forgot. That would be bad, and upsetting, but I would’ve liked to have thought that someone would’ve noticed and mentioned it a second or third time. Of course, I also did down two liters of water a half-hour before the blood draw, so it’s possible my venous system is more aggressively reactionary than Southern politics (drinking a lot of water right before a blood draw a well-known, very effective way to make the phlebotomist’s job easier), and this poor woman underestimated.

So, fast-forward 1400 years to me, in the chemo seat (which is supposed to be comfortable, but it’s amazing how unpleasant impersonal barcaloungers are when you have a tube in your arm, and you daren’t jiggle it lest you get billed for someone’s dry-cleaning bill), getting grilled by Research Coordinator, about assorted side-effects (that’s what they’re testing me for, remember), and he mentions that I’ve already reached the maximum recommended dose and tolerated it well, so I’m probably at my maximal side effects, super-soldier wise. Which makes me feel good, because, even though my arm and shoulder hurt like a sumbitch the next day and I have vague flu-like symptoms, if this is as bad as it gets, experimental drug-wise, it’s pretty tolerable (I mean, depending on how things shake-out, if this is a bimonthly, standard dose, I’ll ask them about some sort of stronger pain-killer or something, because this is extremely unpleasant, but, if this is the price of another decade or two, it’s doable)(even with horrible, horrible Gatorade). Which made me feel all Captain American-y for a brief moment and shine a bit of hope on the darkness. Research Coordinator also mentioned that, even though you only get one radiation treatment per lifetime, if I beat this thing the first time and it comes back, he and the Warlocks are already working on potential treatment plans, trials, and virgin sacrifices to keep me alive. Folks, I’m going to use some strong language here, but, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, this is why, if you have a serious illness, do not fuck around with the folks at the local health-mart; go directly to the best. I’m still scared as hell that the radiation won’t take hold and/or this tumor will kill me, but I do feel like, if I can beat this one, I might have something like a normal life expectancy. That might just be the bargaining part stage of grief, though, and it does kind of require me to survive the next several months, which is far from guaranteed. to say the least. HOWEVER, Research Coordinator did assure me that, win, lose, or draw, I’d be getting a few weeks off from Gatorade (I’ll discuss this in further detail later, because it’s not exactly what it sounds like). My major complaint about that interaction is that they skimped on the budget and didn’t get Stanley Tucci to do the interview.

I also had a fascinating conversation with a chemo nurse who was double checking assorted side-effects, prescriptions, patient history, what-have-you. The following conversation has been condensed and slightly edited. NURSE: So, no nausea or vomiting? SELF: Not yet. NURSE: And you’re still on zofran? SELF: Uh, yeah, although i was queasy after the second infusion, so Research Coordinator suggested I double the dosage. But that’s in all the history, and it’s factored in to all of my prescriptions and stuff, as far as I can tell. NURSE (suspiciously): And you’ve never skipped a dose or cut back? SELF: Ma’am, it makes physically bearable and keeps me from puking. Why would I feel the need to experiment with that? NURSE: Oh, you’d be surprised. SELF: Look, if I get all my dreams and die at age 90 in excellent health; I want to be buried with a full bottle of zofran in case I need it.

Eventually, I did get to make it to another part of Socal, because Mother Dearest and the dog decided to visit me. Again, I’m going to be vague in an attempt to preserve some sort of anonymity (if not on my part, at least my dog’s); but we were able to coordinate this because I found a pet-friendly hotel in a part of town half-way between home and the hospital - as opposed to the really nice, but really expensive resort town. I’m now ready to call it quits with the resort area - it was quieter, friendlier, cheaper, and more personal. There’s less to do there, but people actually talked to me (or they talked to my dog, which I think is close enough). Everyone I talked to at this neighborhood was friendly - like, the meanest response of the night is from me, when a baker came out from behind the counter to hug my dog and I kind of winced, because that doesn’t seem very hygienic. But the croissants were amazing (like, worth dog-germ-risk to a technically-immunocompromised person amazing). And I got to celebrate the serum-sorta-completion-almost date the way American Jesus intended: with steak tartare, near-raw burgers, (it could be laden with tuberculosis, but, screw it, I got zofran, I’m not gonna puke), and double-helpings of beer (and, to those of you who don’t know me, few people like microbrew more than I do). It was a delightsomeful, memorable evening. I’m sure she meant it as a compliment, but Mother Dearest expressed far more wit in a single observation than the entire Trump administration: “You’ve become a much more interesting diner since you gave up that heart-health thing.”

And I sort-of slept. Maybe. A few hours. I will say this about the horrible super-soldier serum; it does produce the most amazingly life-like dreams I’ve ever experienced. Yes, I know they’re not technically hallucinations, but, you people didn’t attend the Super Bowl last night. Admittedly, that’s s a really weird, specific, helluva strange object for my focus (I give less thought to the NFL than I do to alfalfa profit margins)(not that either takes up much brain space). It felt like I was there, just like the last hyper-realistic post-injection dream. Which was weird and cool, and, certainly one of the more intriguing side-effects. Which led to a nastier, far-too-frequent side-effect; my arm feeling like it was trying to disattach itself from my frame. Fortunately, after last time, I knew exactly what to; go directly to Tylenol and Gatorade, which made things tolerable. Or as tolerable as Gatorade-based mornings can be. It did occur to me that, if I can’t be Captain America, maybe my right arm can grow and mutate and turn into some sort of really cool/scary demon-hand, like Hellboy. Which would enable me to punch through the flimsy walls of this universe to Hell itself, so that I could track down the inventor of Gatorade, and give him a well-earned thrashing (I know I’m an agnostic, but one thing I am absolutely theologically certain of; the creator of Gatorade is in Hell).

And, as I was musing - like you do, when you’re waiting for superpowers - I recalled the nurse saying that people just experiment and go off zofran (again, kids, if Santa Claus ever brings you zofran, you write a thank-you note immediately). This kind of coincided with another revelation, and I do apologize if it’ll take some time to connect the two, because they make a very important point for everyone planning on surviving cancer. I was packing up the dog’s stuff (specifically, his bowl and bag of food), and thought I’d just pour the leftover food into the bag on the porch/parking-lot area - food’s gonna spill, after all; if it happens out there, some lucky squirrel can deal with it. Mom immediately stopped me so that she could do the exact same thing in the sink area. Depositing dog food all over the sink, and turning a two-minute task into a five-minute cleaning job; without any apparent gain apart from cleaning kibble out of the sink. Now, because it’s Mother Dearest, I’m sure I’ll get some note about how I’m wrong and efficiency and cleanliness are overrated. What occurred to me is that it was a minor case of someone exercising some form of agency merely because they could.

And I get that; I really do. I organize my bookshelves, keep a highly regimented gym schedule, etc. And it suddenly occurred to me, based on this thought (and the chemo nurse’s statement that people stop taking zofran just because), there has to be a chunk of the populace that goes off doctor’s orders or refuses care or whatever for a variety of reasons. That’s all old news; I was an EMT, I’ve seen stupid shit you couldn’t even begin to believe. BUT, the heartening part of it - for me, anyway - is that I have, since Day 1 (since before then, actually), religiously followed doctor’s orders and suggestions (for the most part; I still shave, eat raw foods, and train in the gym; but I’ve never missed an appointment, prescription, dosage, or medical exam, and I’ve never lied to my physicians when questioned). Now, I realize that I have a dangerous disease that isn’t well-understood or have a terribly predictable outcome; but, it is worth noting that, every time I tell some medical professional I’ve lived with this disease (or chronic brain tumors, anyway) for 16 years, I get the exact same reaction as if I’d told them I went to school with Archimedes. I am, apparently, in the world of cancer, patients, nigh-vampire-unkillable. Which is pretty cool and makes me feel good, but, for everyone who wants to learn that secret, well, it’s pretty simple.

You want to go to the very best doctors. You want to figure out the best treatment plan for you; the one that offers the most chance of success. HOWEVER, once you have those things; you follow the rules and stick to the treatment plan like your life depends on it, because it does. I have no idea whether this is going to work, or what my life expectancy will be, but I am near-certain that if I decided to screw around with things, I will have a very grim future.

In figuring out an appropriate ending metaphor for all of this - and the importance of sticking to the medical plan in a world filled with changing variables and crises - I hit upon China Mieville’s book, “Kraken.” It’s an odd urban fantasy that prominently features a cult that worships giant squid as deities (it’s not the dumbest religion I’ve ever heard of). However, there is a minor plot point about the cult’s version of chess - “Kraken Chess,” which is just like our chess, except it features a piece called the Kraken (because of course it does). The Kraken piece is the most powerful piece on the board, because it can - like the queen - move any number of squares in any direction; however, the Kraken piece can also not move at all. It just forfeits a turn.

Folks, as you navigate a dangerous disease, there will be many, many periods where you don’t see any real results, there is no end in sight (or, as the case may be, the visible ends tend to look scary). I will work tirelessly to figure out some sort of coping strategy for all that - believe me, a large part of my life is centered on that, right now. All I can say is, don’t exert agency when none is needed, especially if that comes in the form of skipping your zofran. Sometimes, you must be the kraken; silent, beaked, still, and waiting for the opportunity to kill Sam Worthington.

I mean, uh, take your meds, follow the doctor’s directions, and don’t miss your appointments.

At the moment, I’m back home, waiting for my next appointment (it’s in a few hours);everything’s as close to normal as it can be. I’ve finished up all my administrative health lackey duties, so all bills that can be paid, prescriptions that can be renewed, appointments that can be made, etc. have been scheduled, and I can’t do anything for a few hours. Which is almost a relaxing feeling. I might go sit in the yard with a book and try and get in touch with my inner squid. Sometimes that’s the best you can do.

Folks, I do apologize if that was a bit lengthy and choppy; I had to write it exceedingly fast because I took a day off and there was a lot to attend to while I wrote. So, sorry if it’s a little disjarring; I can do better than that, I just didn’t have the time (and parts of it were written while I was still a little loopy from Captain America serum). The good news - sort of - is that there’s still a lot of things on the cutting-room floor that I’ll be revisiting in short-order. You’d best believe I’m going to revisit that kraken metaphor very soon, I have dark plans for the importance of vomiting on people (sort of), and why we, as a species, might be okay in the end.

#Cancer #brain tumor

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worddonor · 7 years ago

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...Aaah ah

"Suit and taaah aah ah!" "Watch out fa mee, I'm aboouuut to glow-oh..." Tired. Tired of being a naai. Tired of living like a weak piece of k#k. Tired of swallowing my hopes and dreams and giving in to a st attitude of laziness and listlessness and fear and anxiety and f#*+ing depression (forgive my foul mouth Lord, they need to feel my frustration). No man. Jesus didn't bleed out on a wooden cross so I can wish and wish and wish, blatantly ignoring the grace and power he bestowed upon me and every single person on Earth to possess. If we just listened to Him, His Word and took possession of our destinies, of our own unique personas: who we were MADE to be, we'd be changing the world...not fudging looking at the next man to try and do what he's doing or the next lady to duplicate her path and then getting sad because we could never achieve the greatness they do no matter what we do. Of course we couldn't do that as well as the person we're eyeing: why!? Because you're an eye and that person is a hand. Finish and kla. An eye can't hold a hammer, it can look hard at that hammer and wish it could fling it around but it can't. What it CAN do is make sure that hand knows where the fudge it should be hammering otherwise it's swinging in no man's land moering everything in range except for its intended target. What good is that? How many times must this story be told before it hits home?? I should take my own damn advice, for fudge-sake. I've been doing this my entire life, you'd think I'd get it by now, but usually relationships are formed through things we have in common or can all relate to. This usually means aligning with people who have the same interests and joining a group or keeping up with a particular crowd to feel that 'deep' sense of connection we NEED to ignite those explosions of tangible 'happiness' or contentment...to feel loved (or what we think is love)...to feel like we belong to something/someone...to feel like we matter at all. We're humans man. Sometimes we just want to be part of a tribe - it feels good, it's comforting. It's good to follow positive influences, but if following a path or people comes at the expense of our individuality, principles and unique gifts for the purpose of fitting in: it's destructive and drives us away from purpose and the paths and people we should be following. We were not made to live as silos or islands alone, even I get a buzz from having a stimulating chat with folk. You instantly feel better about life, especially about whatever struggles you're facing internally or your circumstances at home etc. It brings perspective and genuine joy. Why don't we look to who made us and ask Him for guidance? My whole life I've been comparing and writing basically full-on essays about other people, their strengths compared to my myriad weaknesses...comparing myself to John, comparing myself to Jill, beating myself up, hating myself because I could never be as confident or as cool or as athletic or dance as good or be as quick-witted or work as fast, or work as cleanly and as beautifully with my hands or make friends as easily as John or Jill. I could never be as sure of myself as them or as content with my personality, not even my strengths let alone my quirks and weaknesses. I still don't understand my strengths - only God can show me what I'm good at so I'm going to try listen and see what he says, say what you will if you think I'm a mal naai - I probably am. What has this mal naai got to lose in any case seeing as I'm basically talking to myself on this piece of twak blog. I actually enjoy reading other people's daily entries, even if it's mundane crap, I don't know why - I love people's stories and getting to know their weird and wonderful perspectives yet making small talk in person is like climbing Mount blady Everest for a man, goodness. I make too many excuses, stuff that noise. I must make a greater effort, so what if I'm shit - I have to keep falling on my face until one day when I make that step and it's glorious; absolutely fudging spectacular and nothing but winning follows thereafter - I can pat myself on the back for a job well conquered. Going to Vegas and riding around with my cousin having experienced the life he's built for himself overseas inspired me: I had never felt so free and so full of positivity as the time spent with him. Goodness. Plus he actually enjoys my writing, the poetry or the prose or whatever else - he enjoys it and can't wait for me to write more. That in itself is enough to keep me going as he is someone I admire a great deal (we've come a long way), it helps me get up in the morning I won't lie. BTW did I mention that I prayed out loud (medium volume levels, lol) in a small group at church yesterday?? Sounds like nothing, but you cannot believe how intimidating it is for me to speak at ALL with anyone other than family especially in prayer - even though it was just my mother and another church member (albeit someone we all know well, he has quite a strong personality and is deeply knowledgeable of the Word [is that correct English?], academically inclined, works out so has a decent physical frame [it matters bru] and not afraid to share his views about anything, definitely no push over). I held my own although I fluffed a bit when I hit a wall towards the end of the prayer there, but I was proud of myself - me, proud of something I did? Is the sky falling? Are we all gonna burst into flames on New Year's Eve?? Yes, I was pleased that I didn't wuss out like I always do. I manned the fudge up and went for it despite stammering and all that jazz. Of course God knows I'm capable of much more - I limit myself, so it probably wasn't much for Him. I have prayed before, but it's been years since I've been in that setting and felt confident enough to add my two cent-chees there. Anyway, coming back to today...yesterday may have contributed to why I was so upset today at the end of the day...I felt like I was slow because there were tasks I couldn't complete that I tried to make and time ran out...I knew for a fact my colleagues would have finished what they needed to on time...even walking out the door I felt like I was unable to keep up with them without sweating a bit by trying to move faster...I just felt stupid, I know making any decision is kak-hard for me to do fast if at all so I have always felt like I was holding everyone up and still feel like this. This includes holding myself up which is keeping me from moving forward. It's terrible. The last thing I want to do is make people wait, because I hate waiting as much as the next person, but shit man I'm such a damn slow poke. My head keeps wheel-spinning and getting nowhere. Ai. I love looking at the sky though and the clouds and at details of things around me and at people and their quirks and habits, especially their body language...it's soo interesting, I could people-watch for daayyyzzz bru. I enjoy reading so much too...Just tryna figure us out... Anyway, as of recently, for the first time in my Life, my WHOLE LIFE, I can sense my purpose taking shape, I feel a peace that I've NEVER felt before, NEVER! The Holy Spirit is speaking to me and guiding me and it's being proven to me each and every day I take a step of faith [note: a STEP!], words from different sources (twitter, the Bible, Facebook, my dreams, Youtube videos [Prince Ea whaddup!], the books I'm reading, the things I watch on TV): ALL of it. When I act in faith, another little door opens. When I shimmy a tad forward, another window opens and so it goes. I'm enjoying this...like the Bible says in more eloquent terms though, 'Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.' (Psalm 119:105) - just a lamp, not full daylight, just enough to keep me going forward and to keep me holding on to it, to keep me looking into it for for further guidance as I take my next step in the dark. For the first time in my 30 years in existence, I've felt a weight lift from my shoulders regarding purpose. The Lord said he's got my back, so I'm just going to keep taking life one step at a time (my mother also said this the other day...one day at a time - I was frustrated then too, but it's a good strategy, my previous methods haven't worked so it's time I try this.). Who knows what I'll be doing next, where I'll be doing it and with whom :). Peace people. P.S. Las Vegas was phenomenal and I was treated like a king at the fam's home. The US is a beautiful place (saw the Grand Canyon, went wild at Six Flags Magic Mountain and even made it through to Venice Beach :D - my favourite place if I must be honest), I'll definitely be back soon.

#peace #purpose #power #grace #Psalm 119:105 #realisation #proud moment #content #musing #LBHJ

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moonsault-fics · 6 years ago

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Extreme Deadline Exchange Letter!

Dear Exchange Writer: thank you for taking part in my favorite exchange and being willing to write one of my requests!

An advance apology: I’ll have family visiting when the collection goes live—I’m hoping to have time to get to my gift quickly anyway, but if I run late on my response, that’s why.

General likes: Gen and slash are both fantastic. Romance can range from pre-slash (I actually love relationships written as just a shade more emotionally intense than canon but not explicitly romantic) to NC-17. Mutual pining, I love mutual pining, especially if it’s eventually reciprocated (but angsty mutual pining that doesn’t get consummated is great too!) I love dubcon and just about any scenario where characters are forced into sex that they want but refuse to admit they want, maybe even to themselves—and that desire can remain angstily unacknowledged or enthusiastically consensual by the end. I really like stories about the actual world of wrestling—I love plotted-out fantasy bookings, descriptions of feuds and matches, details of life on the road or backstage moments, etc. On the other hand, I also enjoy non-mundane AUs—fantasy, science fiction, spies, pirates, feel free to go crazy!

I’m fascinated by the Firefly Funhouse right now and the possibilities for brainwashing and weird dubcon scenarios with any possible pairing. I’m not usually into ageplay, but I could definitely have a taste for an attempted rescue of a mentally-deaged character that goes horribly wrong and sex is required to snap someone out of it or get Bray to let them go. Non-sexual scenarios are also interesting—Sami having to deal with a Kevin wiped back to a teenager could be super angsty gen or non-sexual romance as well. Physical de-aging seems possible too (though keep anything like that non-sexual, please, that would be a bridge too far for me).

DNW: Anything non-kayfabe compliant (the characters shouldn’t know the results of matches beforehand; no wallet names). Rape, non-con, infidelity—if you write sex or romance, please simply un-marry any married characters and remove their spouses from the story entirely. Alpha/omega dynamics. Rimming, scat, water sports, vore, daddy kink.

Requests:

Brian Kendrick: just about any character study or plotty fic with Brian! What caused his recent change of heart? How does he feel about his relationship with Tozawa and how does that alliance work behind the scenes? Now that Jack Gallagher seems to be shifting face-ward, does Brian get in touch with him? And how does he feel about Daniel Bryan’s return from retirement and fall into darkness? None of those relationships were in the tag set [update: I’m a blind dork I think all of them were nominated, I just... failed to see them. Consider them on the table one way or the other!] and , but if you feel like writing any of them as romantic, feel free (but absolutely not required). He lost his beard and cut his hair recently and immediately looked 15 years younger—how do he or others feel about that? And he’s said that he still dreams of wrestling Daniel Bryan—if you want to fantasy-book that match with Bryan, that would be lovely.

Sami/Kevin; oh gosh, anything at all. Gen, pre-slash, slash; from fluffy to romantic to angsty to downright dark; from their earliest days to right now to a hypothetical future. I’d love something from a champfuck beltworld AU where a battered, bruised Sami is required to have sex with new NXT champ Kevin (though please keep it dubcon and have Sami secretly or explicitly be into it by the end). More recently, how did Sami feel, watching Kevin have fun with New Day, and how did he react to Kevin’s turn on Kofi? What happened when they were both injured that led to their friendship apparently cooling off? They teamed up against New Day on the European tour—did they get along outside the ring as well? I am a sucker for mutual pining with these two and will not complain if you literally write them as having pined for each other for 16 years, I don’t care how implausible that is. On the kink front, with this pairing blood play, pet play, and informal BDSM are all delicious.

For Kevin or Sami alone: any piece about their motivations or storylines at the moment! I'm fascinated and wracked up by where they both are emotionally right now, broken and miserable and cut off from human connection, whether with the fans or other wrestlers. Explore what you feel about their situations, fantasy-book them a path out of the misery, both are good. You can write a story about Kevin without Sami, or about Sami without Kevin, that's fine--but please don't write either of them in a pairing with another character, they're the OTP that I cannot multiship (Kevin being married is fine if he's not attracted to Sami, though!)

Naito/Hiromu: Either as comrades or as lovers! I love their dynamic, where Hiromu’s passionate caring about things breaks down Naito’s shell of not-caring. This is another great one for mutual pining, since there are some compelling reasons why Naito wouldn’t want to risk coming on to a subordinate and Hiromu, for all his brashness, might be hesitant to risk the rapport of LIJ. Since it looks like Hiromu’s injury won’t end his career, feel free to write some h/c about his recovery, or to fantasy-book his return. Does Naito win the G1 in honor of him? The two of them lost and bewildered on some hypothetical foreign tour that lets them explore an area you know well might be fun. And how does Hiromu feel about Naito’s complex relationship with the IC title? I love the found family of LIJ, so feel free to include any or all of them in a fic as well.

Mustafa: Anything based on his recent switch to the main roster—his reactions to Daniel, his observations about other wrestlers. Does he miss 205 Live? Have his relationships with the 205 wrestlers (who of course he still sees backstage every week) changed at all? He wants a match with Kofi—a story fantasy-booking an eventual title match (maybe a win?) would be wonderful. He’d be fascinating to see feuding or teaming up with Aleister Black—the darkness and the light. And I think Bray would be fascinated with him as well, as a possible captive firefly in the dark. I’d be happy with either gen or slash and would be amenable to seeing him with Daniel, Drew Gulak, or Aleister if you find any of those interesting.

Drew Gulak: Drew seems to be spinning his wheels a lot right now. Any reflection on his current status or fantasy-booking leading to title win at last would be great! Why does he keep desperately forming factions and alliances, and why do they never seem to work out? How does he feel about Jack and Humberto going off on their own, apparently? If you want to go back to bad old times, does he have any memories of his days in the Zo Train and do those humiliations still drive him? Does he miss Mustafa at all? If you want to write slash, I happily ship him with Jack, Mustafa, Humberto or Tony, but gen is very welcome too.

#wwe fic

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