#but then someone had to present my work to the class yesterday. Not fun! Not fun at all! Nearly threw up ten times!

[aftout]

Ok guys now I know for a fact that this Juliette’s Draft shit is for REAL. (had a panic attack because of it yesterday)

[lonelierthanu]

Penmanship

Satoru Gojo x Gender neutral Reader

series: incomplete

words: 1.7k

warnings: none apply; funny; meet-ugly: no mentioned female or male anatomy; no spoilers; no curses; slow build; slow to update; college au

summary: Some weird guy just stole your pen. And you’re weirdly determined to get it back.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5…+

“Do you have a pencil I can borrow?” someone asks from your left.

You turn your head first before you look at the stranger, making sure the professor was no longer speaking before giving the person your full attention and looking at them. When you look over you’re met with a bright (too bright) smile, huge dark sunglasses that take up most of the strangers face, and in stark contrast, blindingly white hair. You're sure if you saw this man in direct sunlight your retinas would be burnt to a crisp.

Then you turn to your right to look into your bag on the floor. You instinctively look for your pencil pouch, but you can’t seem to find it. What you do find is a bright red sparkly gel pen, with a Hello Kitty charm on top and a dangling silver chain with a red fuzzy ball hanging from it. You smile to yourself thinking of the person this pen belongs to, then you wonder how your niece left her pen in your book bag.

You wordlessly hand the pen to the stranger and turn your attention back to the professor who started her lecture again. You can feel the question resting on his tongue before he even says it.

“What’s this?” he chuckles at you. And admittedly, that question irks your nerves a bit. Dude can clearly see what it is. Why is he asking? To make fun of you? Well jokes on him because you have no shame about handing over a Hello Kitty pen.

“A pen.” You respond, not breaking your focus from the professor.

“This,” he swings the fuzzy ball around, “is your pen?” he laughs again. Mostly to himself you realize, and you kind of want to say yes to his question out of spite. But to be fair, you are currently wearing all black and oversized clothing with the whole look being pulled together with your dark under eyes and an expression longing for death that any college student could recognize and sympathize with. Any other day you would’ve had the energy to present yourself better, but you just pulled an all-nighter to study for a test you have tomorrow. that you didn't know you had till yesterday.

“No. It’s my niece's,” you respond, still not giving the stranger your full attention. The guy doesn’t seem to mind because he keeps the conversation going anyway, despite your dry attitude.

“Oh, do you live at home?” He seems genuinely curious. Which you find odd. You’ve never talked to this guy a day in your life and suddenly he wants to play twenty questions with you.

“No. I have my own place,”

“Then how did you get your niece’s pen?” He questions. Like he doesn’t believe that you were telling the truth about it not being your pen.

“I visited my family over the weekend,” you say, a little irritated.

“Then they must live close. Y’know, for you to be able to get back in time for classes,” he says like he’s suggesting something. Like you’re lying. You look at him then with a pointed glare. It’s when you see the smirk on his face that tells you that this man is playing with you. He’s most likely getting you worked up on purpose.

But why?

And that just pisses you off more.

“Why are you asking so many questions anyway? Who are you? Detective Sherlock Holmes?” you say, still glaring at him, as he continues to smirk at you. His smirk widens.

“No reason, was just curious to know how you possessed such a cute pen,” Then his smirk changed into a big smile, the teasing air gone. But you know he’s faking that smile. You’re not sure how you know, you just do. You leave it there and turn back to taking notes. Luckily the stranger does too.

It stays silent between the two of you for the rest of class and the few glances you chanced at him he seemed to actually be taking notes. He also didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the glittery red ink filling the pages either. You would have thought he was going to make a comment on it at least. He didn’t even seem to look your way at all. Which was fine. But it made you wonder what made him tease you the way he did even though you don’t know each other.

You guess he’s just a weird guy.

Class ends and before you can even close your notebook, Sherlock is out of his seat and walking out the door.

“Hey!” you yell after him, it’s then you realize you don’t know this guy’s name. “Crap,” you curse softly before you hurry and try to stuff your things into your bag. By the time you get one strap on your shoulder you see his mop of white hair walk through the door. You try to weave your way through people walking down the aisle towards the door, almost trip a few times, then finally make it to the exit. You look both ways through the sea of people. He’s gone.

He’s gone? You literally just saw him two seconds ago. He just disappeared like he’s fucking Houdini or something. How is he gone? Fuck. You need that pen back. It was your niece's favorite pen. You were already expecting a call from her today because she had left it in your bag, but now you gotta tell her some stranger stole it? She’s going to be so upset.

You stand there next to the door of your professor's class just a minute longer, looking both ways in hopes you’ll see blinding white hair. But you are supremely sure that the stranger is long gone. But you’re not discouraged. He’ll surely be in class tomorrow and you’ll be able to ask for it then.

Yeah. That’s a solid plan. Now you just gotta figure out what you’re gonna say to your niece in the meantime. And when you feel your phone start to vibrate in your pocket, you sweat a little.

When you come to the same class the next day (even more tired than yesterday, and yes it was another all-nighter) you expect to see the guy sitting there at the beginning of your row. Where he usually sits.

You hadn’t realized this yesterday but you actually have talked to this guy before. It was such a small interaction that happened months ago, you’re not surprised your brain erased the memory. When school had just started you always sat at the very beginning of the third row. You already knew coming into class that you wanted the aisle seat so it was easy access to slip out of the room the minute class was over. The eager study-goers and teachers' pets were bright and early, taking up the first two rows, and the slackers, sleepers, and stoners (or people who liked sitting in the back?) all took up the seats in the last two rows. Ta-da. Third row it was.

You sat there for about a week listening to this professor go over her syllabus, course, rules, etc. for a whole week. Then once that second week rolled around you came into class like normal and probably about twenty minutes into the class the door rips open, and in enters Sherlock Houdini (who was known at the time as: annoyingly loud handsome guy that talks too much). The professor looked about just as annoyed as you did. You brushed it off, meanwhile Sherlock Houdini was getting an earful about tardiness, and the professor got an earful herself about ‘ letting loose ‘. You definitely rolled your eyes.

He had finally gone to take a seat, but had unfortunately walked right up to you. He looked at you (or at least you think he did. Even with light shining directly through them you couldn’t see what he was hiding behind those sunglasses), and you looked back. You scooted your chair up thinking he wanted to get behind you, but he just kept looking at you. Then he smiled.

You remember thinking that his smile was very pretty. But also thinking that him smiling at you at that moment was creepy.

“You’re in my seat,” he said, still smiling.

“What?” You said back, furrowing your brows. You’ve literally sat in the seat everyday up until that moment and have never seen this guy once come to class. How in the world could this be his seat?

“You’re in my seat,” he repeated. He said it in a way that made you feel like you were the dumb one. It pissed you off and made you want to stand your ground.

“This is my seat,” you replied.

“Funny. I don’t see your name on it,” He chuckled back, still smiling. It felt very condescending.

“I could say the same for you,” you folded your arms and laid back in the chair to look up at him properly. You remember thinking this guy was really tall.

“Young man,” He turned to look at the professor, “could you please sit down,” she piped up, a little irritated. He looked back you, same stupid smile and said:

“Yeah, can I please sit down?” That almost made you throw your notebook at his face. Instead you leveled with him. You stared straight into what you think were his eyes, testing his patience, Anyone else would give up and find a different seat. But he leveled back. He crossed his arms as well and stared into your soul.

You both looked at each other for maybe another minute and half, then the professor cleared her throat loud enough to be heard by the whole room. That broke your patience. You scoffed as you scooted one seat. There were plenty of seats further down the row, but you wanted this guy to know that if he was gonna take your seat, you weren’t about to let him have his space.

He smiled and thanked you as he plopped down into your seat and got ready to take notes. You didn’t talk again after that.

Well, until now that is. You’re waiting for this prick of a guy to get into class so you can get the damn pen back. But he has yet to show up and class is almost over.

It’s whatever though because you can always ask him tomorrow. After all, It’s only Tuesday.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I had half a mind to title this Hello Kitty’s Intricate War with Penmanship. I still might 🤭

next ->

[tubbypeddle]

May I request a platonic/queerplatonic matchup for JJBA and One Piece? (No Dio, Kira Part 4, or Doflamingo please)

I am 26 years old, autistic, and schizoaffective, I am on meds that allow me to function from day to day and am living my best life. 

I’m a feminine presenting nonbinary person and I go by they/them pronouns. I’m 5’7 ft, have tan skin, dark brown eyes, and wavy, brown hair. I have a curvy body type with stretch marks on my hips and stomach I lovingly call my “tiger stripes”. My default outfits consist of hoodies/sweaters, basketball shorts, joggers, and graphic tees or something of equal comfort. 

I am aromantic allosexual with a preference for individuals that are masculine. 

Personalitywise, I’m an introverted leaning ambivert, I do my best to push myself to be a better person than I was yesterday. I am very emotionally open and vulnerable to those I trust, but said trust is hard earned and some trust is reserved only for specific individuals (i.e what I trust my Mum with is different than what I would trust my siblings/best friend with). I love learning new things and always remain curious with the world around me. I am creative and imaginative; I have lots of ideas swirling in my head though I do my best to work and finish one at a time. I have a hard time with small talk but could talk people's ears off about and exchange special interests.I also love teaching and being taught and am patient. It takes quite a bit to get me mad, but when my threshold is reached it’s “take no prisoners”. 

I despise willfully ignorant/vulgar/bigoted people. Yelling, loud cars, and motorcycles feel like an attack on my nervous system and a way to bypass my patience and tick me off is teasing someone about their appearance or things they can’t biologically control (past bullying trauma), I don’t care if it was “just a joke” Brad, get a better sense of humor or I’ll run you over with my electric bike. 

I’m scared of my friends leaving me behind, treating me like a second class friend, or otherwise losing interest in me in favour of a romantic partner (no hate on the partner, my usual thought process is two friends for the price of one but what pans out is usually not the case 🙁) and of course heights. 

My hobbies include writing, reading, drawing, swimming, travel, baking, karaoke, and crafting.

I love gifting my loved ones with things that pertain to their interests and coming up with fun things that I could do with them (Taking them to a carnival, comic con, waterparks, baking together, etc.). I am also very affectionate and I love, love, love cuddles, the deeper the pressure the better. Kisses are Very Noice™ too. 

Sunshowers and flurries are my favourite types of weather, I love anime/animated shows/movies, raspberries and rain are my favourite scents, and I have collections ranging from plushies to enamel pins to ita bags to action figures.  I would prefer someone who can be my rock when I’m not doing my best and is patient with and does their best to understand me. In return, I will be their companion, their friend, their confidante. I will accept their authentic self as they do me and be the one they can always come back to, who will always put in the effort, me, their dear platonic partner. 💛

Hello!! I'm so sorry for the ridiculously long wait! And thank you for sending this in! I'm going through a horrible a burnout right now, so I worked on this as much as I could without breaking down ;-;

Now, while I had the time, I thought long and hard about who would be your ideal friend! And maybe partner for life, queerplatonic or not, if you're up for it.

(author's note: I apologize if they're out of character ☹ I feel out of character myself. I hope you enjoy it anyway 🫂 and as always, credits to gif owners, gifs are not mine)

We'll start off with this one.

You find yourself in a world of Stand users. Of Hamon and vampires and devils whose evil is beyond our comprehension.

There's one man who's perfect for you. Your perfect friend.

Mohammed Avdol

Starting off with that which is most obvious, he does not seem to care much about your physical body. Not in a way that he finds you ugly, or that he doesn't like it.

He just never comments anything negative about it.

In the most positive way possible, Avdol does not care what you look like.

If you're looking for compliments from him, he'll dish them out happily. He does not mind showering you with affection and compliments if you want it. But what you look like isn't the first thing that comes to his mind when he thinks of you.

Since you're so personality driven, he's very happy to help you as much as he's able. He wants to see you at your best, and he wants to accompany you on your journey to that version of yourself.

You wouldn't have to worry about him making insensitive jokes. He's rather proud of how much effort he puts into being as inclusive and as inoffensive as possible.

He enjoys listening to your ideas, about anything that comes to your mind. Avdol is happy to listen, and even give some of his own ideas and suggestions for your infodumps, perhaps. If you're willing to hear.

He's also quite fond of your very curious personality. He enjoys learning, and will make time in his day to just sit and learn anything you want with you. To keep your company, and to make you happy.

Avdol, despite being very easy to become heated, is a very steady and stable man. He will be your comfort, your rock when you need someone to keep you grounded. Just as fire can be wild and uncontrollable, it can also be tame and warm and comforting. The hearth in your home.

You want patience? This man is made of that stuff. I mean, if he can deal with Polnareff and Joseph on that adventure? I'm sure he can handle someone as comparably docile as you.

Every single gift that you give him, he keeps it. Anywhere he can think of. If he's able to, he'll even display them in his home. There's something about your gifts being presented in his most intimate spaces that's so special. He wants reminders of you when he's most comfortable. As an assurance, perhaps. Or a comfort.

Cuddles are the best with him. He runs warm because of his Stand and his abilities, so they hit especially harder on colder nights. His favorite cuddling position is him just plopped on top of you, like he's a big weighted blanket.

He understands trust is a very tricky thing to balance with people. He's okay with not knowing every single little thing about you, if you so wished to keep some things from you. He just wants you to be comfortable around him, and if that means keeping some things from him, that's fine with him.

honorable mentions! Part 6 Jotaro

You're so charming to him. Captivating in a way he hasn't seen since his wife. He finds himself a little too attached to you, which may scare you off.

That's Jojo's done!

Onto One Piece.

You find yourself sailing across the sea. Or maybe you're on an island, made of candy, or made of ice and lava. Of rock and sand.

Wherever you are, there's one man who finds himself particularly interested in you.

Trafalgar Law

He's a loyal loyal man. Once he's decided you're his friend, you're his friend forever.

Post time skip is probably the best era of Law for you. Post time skip, he smiles and laughs less, but it's not impossible for him to be amused at all. His favorite activities with you tend to be

He finds you very charming, similar to how Jotaro does. You're short (compared to him, at least), and feisty, and know yourself well enough to be clear about your boundaries. He appreciates that. He likes when people are clear about themselves and their intentions. It's why he's such good friends with Luffy.

Hi friendship with you isn't the same as it is with Kidd and Luffy though.

With them, he's competitive. Dangerous. Downright vicious with them, in the most affectionate way possible. (You know, as is the One Piece way)

With you, he's a little bit softer. A little bit more physically affectionate. His only examples of showing love that he can bring himself to remember are his parents, and how Corazon treated him. He doesn't remember much of his parents' tendencies anymore, it's been so long. But he could never forget how Corazon treated him.

He often finds himself repeating Corazon's actions to you.

Maybe he's a little mean sometimes, a little firm with you. But it comes out of the softness of his heart.

He wants you to be safe. He doesn't want you to get hurt because of him and his pirate lifestyle.

Should you find yourself insisting to come with him aboard the Polar Tang, he'll be very against it. He appreciates and even likes that you want to prove your strength, and stay by his side. But he just cannot risk losing you. He's lost too many people already.

He might be a bit tense when it comes to any sort of soft physical affection, initially. It doesn't take long for him to soften, though. He melts with your touch, honestly.

Trust also doesn't come easily to him, so it comes as a surprise to him when you open up to him so easily. (To him, at least, it seems easy. because he has issues up the wizzow)

He's careful to keep your trust in him, cradling it as if it were the most precious gem in the world. He opens up to you slowly, and it's easy to scare him off. He's like a stray.

Just as he's patient with you, please be patient with him.

He's damaged, and lost a little too much in his life to know how to open up so easily.

He takes your gifts easily. He loves being gifted things, even if it flusters him beyond belief. He hasn't been gifted things very often throughout his life, so he'd forgotten it was a thing that people did.

honorable mentions!! Luffy

Luffy is easy to be friends with, because he will just straight up take you hostage if you refuse the first time. He sees you and immediately thinks, "I must be their friend."

I am so sorry this came out so so late. I don't feel very good, I think it's a depression episode, but I DID IT!!!!!

I hope you enjoyed this one 🫂

[mymuseagustd]

#4 The Entire Picture

It's the dream project until you find out that your favourite idol doesn't want you there.

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader 

Genre: IdolAU / Angst / Smut

Warnings: Nothing much here. 

Word count: 5K+

---

“What do you mean by he is a celebrity? How does it fucking matter? If he doesn’t like my work, he can tell me, right? He is a client, a person. He does this in and out!” I ranted on and on to my partner while the poor guy had been trying to console me for the last 30 minutes. I was blessed to have Si-Hyeon in my life, but at this point, I felt like I had failed him too. “I mean, even doing the project with us now, he isn’t doing us any favours. I have earned this. WE have earned this! So, it’s not like we’re a charity project he has to entertain!” 

“But, he has made his choice, Y/N, and it’ll be fun. I mean, these two projects. They were first making us choose between 7 members of Bangtan and had given us one project to work on, and now they are giving us two groups! ENHYPEN and SEVENTEEN are fucking huge names!” He was always looking at the positive side and was always technically correct. 

“Yes! But it’s not even Bangtan! They are why we are here! And you didn’t even want to do this! We only chose this because I wanted to work with them, and Min Yoongi because he is my favourite! And now, we will work with two groups when you didn’t even want to get in the music space!” 

“Is that what you are worried about? Because I am enjoying this. And we are good with everything we pick up, so I’m not worried about this either. We will have to get maybe 4 more team members for the load, which is great! And we can move on whenever we like, you know that.” He held my hands. “You don’t have to, even for a second, worry that I don’t want this. I will tell you.” 

“He is an asshole! He hasn’t given me one sign that he doesn’t like the work. Even yesterday’s meeting was all positive, and he agreed to everything! Even the idea that we thought was farfetched? He wants to shoot it!”

Meeting with Min Yoongi

“So, I know we have already finalized concept shoots. But I had one more idea to present. And it’s just a concept. It’s different, but I have a vision, and I feel like you can carry it very well, and it will add a layer to what you’re going for,” the meeting was fabulous until this point. He had finalized all the details and added quite a few independently. He was engaged, excited, and had that promising look in his eyes that I had been hoping for till now. Working with someone you have admired is always challenging. There are so many hurdles that can come in, and thankfully, till now, even though we hadn’t worked together before, he was very open to hearing us out and actually building something together for his work. 

“Show me,” Yoongi replied. Always a man of few words and made the girl inside me shiver, but I was a professional. 

I presented the ideas our team had worked on, which we had an inclination that would technically go above board, but I wanted to show him still that he could go in every different direction and didn’t have to limit himself. We had already tried that, but we were still building off the block of his previous work. This would, in some ways, shatter it and give him more space to explore, which is not always what an artist wants when he is catering to his fandom. “Honestly, I’m a fan and know this isn’t on the label. I know it’s a bit far from it, but I believe you can do it, and it will give you that edge I feel you’re trying to get.” 

He observed it for a bit. Going back and forth on the presentation and board I had created for reference, “You think I can pull it off?” He asked after a while. 

“I believe you can do anything,” I responded instinctively. 

He smiled, “let’s do it then.” 

And that was it. He agreed, told us he would make his additions and share them by following Monday and went on to participate in the multiple classes he had slotted us in between. 

Back to the Present

“You think that was it? We presented him that idea, and then he went on and voted against us!” I sat down like it was an epiphany. 

“I don’t think so. He has literally made minor edits to your idea and actually wants to shoot it first. He is paying for this. He doesn’t have to do this.” Si-Hyeon laughed. 

“He was the only vote against us taking on the next project with BTS. The ONLY vote! Everyone else had said yes!” 

“How do you know that?” Knowing I had done something sneaky to get this confidential information. 

“I saw the sheet when Maira went to the bathroom,” He gave me his disapproved look. “I had to! There was no logical reason that we didn’t get the next project. Our work with Suga is making all the noise and getting all the right reviews!” 

“Y/N! Don’t do this shit! Also, if you feel so bad about it, ask him. He hasn’t lied about or not been honest about anything till now. Just ask him!” He laughed. 

“Why don’t you feel as devastated as I do?” I was almost in tears. My idol had rejected me. Technically, again not me, but ME! 

“They are all the same to me. I don’t really need to get emotionally attached to my job or our business.” He pulled me up from the ground. 

“That’s not true! You didn’t say that when we were working with Zendaya.” 

“Yeah, because she is a goddess. Min Yoongi is not a god.” 

“How dare you!” I threw the cushion at him. “He is a god! He is the universe! He is-” 

“The man who voted against you for taking on the next project for Bangtan.” Si-Hyeon always had a way of shutting me up. 

—

“I think Corsica will be the best location for this. We also have the ground set up there, so we will be out in 5 days from set up to completion, which will also reduce the final costs.” We were in the final rounds of finalizing the shoot, and I was giving my best pitch to Yoongi’s manager, who could greenlight this faster. Yoongi had come up with a few locations in Spain and Italy, but Corsica was my pick. I had thought a lot about this. Maybe, I shouldn’t present my ideas, or perhaps I should try reading him more. But that was not what I was being paid for. I was great at my job. I didn’t need this self-doubt. 

“What do you think, Yoongi? Corsica?” I looked up to see Yoongi enter the meeting room. 

“Corsica?” he questioned. Why was this man always serving looks when it was not even needed? “I’m sorry, I’m late. It was my final class, and I wanted to say goodbye properly.” Even his apologies made my heart melt when he was a full 45 minutes late. 

“Yeah, Y/N is proposing Corsica to be the shoot location instead. They already have a set up there, and the location is beautiful.” Sejin explained. 

Yoongi looked at me and then back at the use display of my pitch. “The location in Spain doesn’t work?” 

“No, it does! And we can absolutely do that,” Si-Hyeon chimed in. “We have an extra edge with Corsica because we know it inside out. And some of these locations, like this one,” Si-Hyeon pointed to a unique castle-like rock structure right next to the water, “really fit the look we are going for. I’m sure we can find something like this in Spain. It’ll just take us a little longer, but it can be done.” 

Yoongi looked at the photographs for a little longer and then returned to our concept notes. “This place is beautiful,” He looked at me. “You think we should shoot here instead of the location we looked at initially?” Everyone turned to me. 

“It really is what you are comfortable with,” I answered as Yoongi’s eyes stared directly into mine, “But I think the narrative is served pretty well at both places.” 

“Okay, “ He smiled. “Corsica, it is.” and that was it. 

We took a short break when Yoongi was asked to eat something. 

“That went over quite easily.” Si-Hyeon bought me my coffee. “He didn’t even question you. We were told he is very specific with his requirements and likes them to the T, but he really took your opinion and went with it.” 

“Maybe he just wants to wrap it up quickly and is trying to get rid of us,” I sipped my drink, still sour over knowing he rejected us. How could he meet my eye, knowing what he had done! 

“I would have taken this point, but you know the budget on this. It will be cheaper for them to scrap it and start afresh than go with this, so I think he is on board.” 

“You don’t always have to be right,” I whined. 

—

“Maybe I should just ask him!” I made a few heads turn towards me as we wrapped up the first day of the shoot. “Sorry!” I apologized, “I can’t figure him out. He looks like he is enjoying it. He looks like he is happy with what we are doing. Why would he not want to work with us again, then?” I said softly to Si-Hyeon. 

“You were with him for the whole day today. You didn’t get the chance to ask him between the multiple times you wiped his sweat?” He teased. 

“I  only did it because it was convenient! A whole other person would have to climb the rock I was already on!” That was no excuse, but who cares. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he was not complaining about having you so close. Especially in that dress,” He smirked. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” I looked down at my outfit. Fine, it was a little low cut, a little short, but I was in a country where they didn’t care about my chest!

“No, I’m sure he was pleased!” Si-Hyeon laughed, picking up all the files and pulling me towards our car. 

“What do you mean he was pleased?” I crossed my arms, pouting. 

“I mean, I don’t think anyone else has ever checked you out more than Yoongi did today,” Again, that smirk.

“So much nonsense comes out of your mouth sometimes. I don’t know how there is anything else,” I tried hiding my deep blush and excitement. 

The hotel’s only penthouse had gone to Yoongi, where we kept most of his inventory. Si-Hyeon and I were in a room a floor down, so his questionable look was fair when I pressed the button for the top floor. 

“I need to drop the concept note for tomorrow. Yoongi asked for it,” I explained. 

“Okay then, why don’t you give it to your Yoongi while I go fill the tub and destress,” He pressed the button for our floor. 

“He is not my Yoongi.” 

 I knocked and rang the bell to the penthouse apartment and heard a loud ‘coming’ before Yoongi opened the door. “Hey,” he said, a little out of breath, opening the door wider. He was just out of the shower with his hair still dripping. My eyes couldn’t help going down his body, but his skin was glowing, the white shirt he had rushed to put on was wet and sticking to his body, and the towel looked like it wasn’t interested in being wrapped around his waist at all. My eyes came back up to meet his, and I didn’t miss the slight smirk he had displayed. 

“I’m sorry. Am I disturbing you?” I asked innocently. 

“Not at all!” He smiled, “come in, come in,” He pulled the door open, and I walked in.

“Is this place comfortable? To your liking?” I asked. 

“Yeah, it’s excellent! Give me a second. I’ll get some - “ He pointed to his towel, and I nodded. 

I walked to the lobby table and took out the concept notes for tomorrow. 

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, coming into the room. “I think there is some wine and whisky…” 

“Umm, sure. Whisky’s fine,” he nodded and poured us both some, coming up to the table. 

“Thank you,” I took a sip and relaxed my shoulders. It had been a long day. “So, this is the location for tomorrow. Sejin’s already gone through all the details too, but you wanted to see the set-up, right?” I asked. He nodded, his eyes going from my face to the notes on the table. “Yeah, so, this is it. We already did a check before coming in, so, we are all set up for tomorrow, but of course, if you need any change, we can get it done in the morning.” 

“Thanks! I just felt I hadn’t looked enough at the second shoot and I felt like I was missing something,” He nodded. Yoongi was the main lead on this, both as an artist and creator, and his attention to detail was impeccable. “Did you see the water point below the cave today? I feel like we can do a shot there too. It was so beautiful and so quiet. I think for the location on the fourth day, we can do an alternate sequence,” He explained his ideas, and I quickly noted them. He paused when he saw me writing and went on finishing his thoughts. “You think this makes sense?” He asked me like he always did, and I nodded. We went back and forth a bit, now that he knew the location more than just seeing it on screen, and made a few changes for the rest of the days. “So, where is Si-Hyeon?” He asked. 

“Oh, already in the tub with bubbles, I believe,” I laughed. 

“So you tend to manage the creative and business side more, and he handles the production and-” 

“Yeah, we have our zones. But, he also comes in through the creatives,” I answered, updating the sheets with the changes for everyone. 

“How long have you guys been working together?” He asked, sitting next to me on the sofa as I settled on the ground with my laptop on the table. 

“Oh, since college. We were paired together for a class, which has continued since then.” 

“Are you guys together?” He asked, very straightforward, and I looked at him, “you don’t have to tell me, of course sorry-” 

“He has a boyfriend. Long term, almost 5 years now,” I went back to editing the documents. “Lives in LA, and refuses to move even though he can,” I said, giving out more information because it had been a sore point in my best friend’s life for a while. 

“That must be tough for him,” Yoongi sat back, folding his legs.

“It is, but you can’t force someone to change their life because of you. It has to be their choice, their sacrifice to make. And Si-Hyeon is very clear on how he wants to live his life, so working in another continent is also him figuring it out.” I answered so that professionally it doesn’t bite us back. 

“That’s true. What about you?” he asked. 

“I don’t have anyone I need to make sacrifices for in my life,” I smiled. “Yet, at least,” I laughed. “What about you?” 

“Same,” he answered, taking a big gulp of his drink. “It’s not like the opportunity hasn’t been there. It’s just…it has to be the right person?” 

“I get that,” I closed my laptop and turned towards his. “This is done. I’ll check in the morning, so we should be good for tomorrow.” 

“Refill?” He asked, pointing at my glass, and I nodded without much thought. 

—

“Quickly eat this before we are horribly late,” Si-Hyeon stuffed some croissants in my mouth as I ran through the project updates. 

“Thank you, sorry it got late speaking to Yoongi last night,” I explained. I walked into our room at 3 AM, slightly drunk, but after a great conversation with Yoongi. I felt I got to know him so much better. 

“Yeah, I noticed. Did you ask the million-dollar question?” he asked. 

“No. It would have been not fit the direction of the conversation we were having,” I pouted. 

“So, you just spoke? No, light kisses, no under-the-shirt action?” 

“Eww, no, we spoke. What are you, 12?” I pushed him slightly. 

“No, but he hasn’t stopped staring at you from his table, so I thought there was more to the story,” he pointed out, and I quickly looked up to meet Yoongi’s eyes. I gave him a small wave, not to make it awkward, and he gave me a close-lipped smile. 

“Quickly finish your coffee so we can leave! C’mon!” 

—

The next three days went smoothly. It was coming out to be great, and we had built a great rapport with the team as well. We met up for drinks after each wrap and ate at some amazing restaurants. Yoongi and I kept speaking more and more, and I could feel us really clicking with each other. There was also all the extra touching which kept implying more, like the hand behind my lower waist when we walked or the hands when we climbed down the steps, which I really didn’t need help in manoeuvring. I also got a raised eyebrow from Sejin, and then he just laughed and walked on. It was all the extra time he was spending with me, just speaking and drinking, but the big elephant in the room was that he had voted against us, and however great everything went, it still left a sour taste in my mouth when I went back to the room. 

The final day had the cave location, and I took Yoongi inside as it was my discovery when we had initially landed here during our college vacation. I had told Yoongi about it, and he asked me to show him around while the crew set up everything. “Come on, there is a small pool-like thing here. We just have to walk a little further.” I took his hand as we walked through the thin area, trying not to fall into the river as the path got thinner. “In here,” I pulled him, and he paused as the rock narrowed. “It’s okay, just narrow here, and it opens up inside,” I told him. “It’s not my spot like I am sure other people know of it, but it’s - I found it so, for you, it’s my spot,” I said, rephrasing my words, and he laughed. The rock opened into a small cave with a small pool of crystal clear water and grass all around it. Looking up, you could see the sky, as the sun poured in through the tiny opening. I walked in further to the little space left to stand on, and Yoongi stood at the opening, taking the small space in, “isn’t it beautiful?” I asked, leaning against the rock wall so that he could come in. 

He just nodded, looking straight at me. It was quite a blur. It happened so quickly. Yoongi walked towards me, his palms capturing my face as his lips met mine. My eyes shut on instinct before he pulled away, waiting for me. I didn’t have many thoughts as I pulled his shirt, bringing him closer as his mouth explored mine further. He tasted sweet, like honey, and once his hand went down the side of my chest, wrapping himself around my body, as I stuck to him, I spoke a little prayer in my head for us to never stop. It got heated, a lot more intense, as his lips moved down my mouth, kissing my chin, licking my neck, until he found a spot that made me shiver and spent a minute trying to make me take out more noises. My hands were in his hair, pulling them sightly, as I tried biting my lips, as he sucked on my sweet spot, exploiting it, as his hands explored my body. It took 5 rings before I could pull my phone out as Yoongi pulled back, kissing my cheek instead as I answered the call. “Yeah, yeah, we will right out. Just coming,” I said, trying not to sound out of breath. “We should go,” I said, our foreheads attached, his hands kneading my waist. He nodded, kissing me again and then pulling away. 

“Let down your hair,” he said, fixing his own. I took my hair out of my clutcher, letting them fall, and Yoongi brought some of it forward, covering my neck. “I think it’ll bruise,” He smirked and turned around, getting out of the cage. I was red the entire shoot and thankful we were done by 3. 

—

The after-party was in full mode, and I was in the bathroom, explaining the bruise/hickey on my neck to Si-Hyeon,  while I took some foundation out to cover it. “Y/N! You know, I was joking when I was speaking about Yoongi! We don’t sleep with the client! It is your rule! It was not allowed when I wanted Noah Centineo, and it is definitely not allowed with Min fucking Yoongi!” 

“Oh, stop it. Noah was not hitting on you and had not given you a hickey,” I laughed. 

“I didn’t want him to give me one! Y/N, this will complicate things! And, and, and, he rejected us!” There it was. The universe-changing, soul-crushing fact that Min Yoongi was the one who had voted and gotten us out of the next job with BTS. The only reason we were in Korea was to work with Bangtan, and it wouldn’t happen anymore. And, the making out with him means nothing because professionally, we were out, and it looked like we would never work together again. 

Si-Hyeon saw the realization strike me again, like I had forgotten the minute his tongue touched mine. I had, and this was worse. “Okay, yes! You are right. Is it hidden?” I asked, pointing to my neck, and he sighed. 

We returned to the party, and the number of shots taken after was not counted. It was only 7 PM when everyone was sloshed and disappearing to their rooms. Si-Hyeon being the lightweight he was, had already taken the key and, I was sure, was out since we had an early morning flight out. I gave my goodbyes to the team and Sejin, where Yoongi sat and discussed something. Yoongi looked shocked and disappointed when he asked me to stay for a bit, and I just shook my head and blamed the flight, walking away to the escalator. 

“Hey, hey…wait,” He ran, stopping the elevator door from closing. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, everything- everything is fine,” I nodded, trying not to blush in my lie. He walked in, and let the elevator close. The lift went up, and suddenly, he pressed the stop button. “Did I…did I miss anything? Because I thought we were good, I thought things were developing, and…”

“You know, I think, you must have seen this in movies, but stopping the elevator like this is actually illegal. Sorry, can I just?” I pressed the button again to let the lift resume. Yoongi sighed, then pressed the button to the penthouse and held my hand, keeping me from leaving on my floor. 

We walked into his room, “drink?” He asked, and I shook my head. My hands were behind my back like a schoolgirl who had just been scolded by her teacher, and I stood closer to the door. “Should we have not kissed?” He asked, vulnerable now. “You didn’t push me away, and I’m sorry, I should have ask-” 

“It’s not that. It’s really not. I loved it. I have dreamed of doing it. Trust me. I just-” 

“Then what?” He asked. 

“You voted against us.” I sighed. 

“What” Yoongi looked at me, confused.

“You voted against us to work with you on the next project. To work with BTS on the next project. Everyone had a yes, but you had a no. And I would love to kiss you again, sleep with you, and do more and be more if you like, but it will be only for this day. And it will break my heart because you mean…you mean more for it to be just for a day after knowing you don’t want to work with us, work with me again…” I rambled on, drunk already on the tequila. 

“Okay, firstly, I wasn’t planning for it to be for a day…” Yoongi sat down on the sofa. “And, I said no, because I wanted you guys to work on the album instead. Hybe knows this. That is why you will be taking the other groups until the album production comes around.” He explained like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

“Why can’t we work on the showcase, and then the album too?” I asked, my signature pout back on. 

“Hybe likes to switch around new agencies after two projects. To not keep it complacent, and keep challenging etc., so I knew if you do this, they will be giving you to another group, and I thought your ideas were better suited for a bigger project. And, if you guys do great then too, it can be a permanent thing, but they will make you experiment. That is just how it works,” He went on. 

“So, you don’t NOT want to work with us?” I asked already realizing this. 

“I just wrapped up a very extensive shoot with you,” He stated the obvious again.

“I thought you didn’t like me…” I rubbed my arms, nervous cause I had again thought the worst. 

“I did pour my heart out to you for the last 2 months and this entire week where I...so, I’m sorry you feel that way, but it’s not the case,” He sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” I didn’t know. 

“I thought what we had was more than this,” He sighed, looking away, “more than work…” 

“It is…” I went towards him, and he stood up. 

“I’m tired. I should sleep. We have a very early flight anyway,” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Yeah, just close the door when you go,” He said, walking away before I could say anything and locking his bedroom door behind him. 

---

There will be another part to complete their story! 

Give me your reviews and love here, ofcourse! 

Thank you so much for your support! I would love to hear from you! I wanted to tag my favourite author here, but I’m so nervous and shy, and I keep hoping they find my work and like it organically. Mini fangirl is moi! 

©mymuseagustd@2023

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

okay so Allie @oflights got me thinking about this fic I wrote last year where Harry teaches Draco how to conjure a Patronus, and I just find the scene so fun that I’m going to post it here 🥰

“Right. Okay. So,” Harry leaned back against his desk, feeling a little self conscious. “The Patronus Charm is one of the most ancient pieces of magic still in common use. You can actually track surges of its use through history. It’s associated with troubled times, obviously. At the moment, we have an unusually high number of people trained in its use. Some of that is down to Dumbledore, actually. Because of the talking Patronus messages you saw Hagrid use yesterday. That was a favoured method of communication used by the Order of the Phoenix.” 

Harry paused to let Draco catch up in his notetaking, picking up the thread again when Draco raised his head and resumed eye contact, “There’s been this idea in the past that a Patronus can only be cast by someone pure of heart, which. I think is kind of silly. What does pure of heart even mean? The reality is that because it takes so much magic, it requires an equally incredible amount of focus and clarity of purpose.

“I find it helps in casting to understand what exactly a Patronus is-”

“It’s a physical manifestation of hope and joy,” Draco interrupted quietly. 

“Exactly. I’d add to that, it’s a physical manifestation of your survival instinct also. And since a Dementor's a sort of personification of despair, a Patronus can drive it away. The incantation actually translates to ‘I summon my protector.’”

“Poetic,” Draco said, scribbling in his pad. 

“Yes, well. It works. So the most common way to summon a Patronus is to fix a powerfully positive, joyful memory in your mind, focus on it with all your might, and then cast. Generally, I have my classes practise focusing on the memory before trying to cast the spell.”

“All right.” Draco didn’t move. 

“You should put away your notebook,” Harry advised, raising his wand, “Nox.” 

The torches in the wall brackets extinguished themselves, and they were plunged immediately into a much deeper darkness than Harry had been expecting. The curtains were drawn, and it was rather dark outside anyway, as it was snowing. 

“Potter,” came Draco’s voice, bemused from the sofa. “Are these theatrics strictly necessary?”

“Shush, you’re meant to be focusing.” 

“Fine. For how long?”

“That’s up to you. When you’re ready to try casting, try casting.” 

Draco fell silent then. Harry tried to keep as still and quiet as possible. The only sound in the room was Happy’s slightly whistly breathing from her bed. 

Presently there was a shifting as Draco rose from the sofa, “Expecto Patronum!” 

The room was illuminated by the silver cloud that burst from his wand. It hung moon-bright between them for a moment, then faded away into nothingness. Draco inhaled loudly and steadily and cast again, “Expecto Patronum!” 

This time, the thing that exploded from his wand was a distinctly animal shape, four legged, hairy, huge and dazzling in the dark office. It vanished too quickly to make out what it was, and Draco promptly dropped his wand. 

“Did you see it?!”

“Of course I saw!” Harry was so excited he could have hugged Draco. “I wasn’t expecting you to get it so fast.”

“One would think you’d have learned not to underestimate me by this time, Potter,” and Harry could picture exactly the whisk of his hair that accompanied that remark. “I told you I’ve cast the incorporeal form before. I’ll bet I have it perfect next time.” 

But Draco tried twice more, and produced only silver mist, even more indistinct than his first attempt. 

Harry heard him throw himself back onto the sofa with a huff, “Got to focus. Give me a moment.” 

The silence that followed lasted far longer than the first time. It set Harry wondering what happy memory Draco was honing in on. His desire to ask grew stronger as he waited in the dark, though he knew it would be abominably intrusive, and he didn’t dare break Draco’s concentration. 

Harry was thinking so hard about what Draco might be thinking that he didn’t even notice him get to his feet, and the bellowed incantation took him quite by surprise. 

“Expecto Patronum!” 

This time, the enormous shape that sprang forth was perfectly clear, a shining, silver-white lion so dazzling and so huge that it obscured Draco from him completely. It opened its jaws in a silent roar, then faded away, leaving them in darkness again. 

Harry felt hot all over, his skin too tight. He thought of Snape’s silver doe. Tonks’ wolf. His mouth went dry, and he fumbled for a seat more secure than the edge of his desk. 

After a moment, he raised his wand, “Lumos.” The torches flickered into light.

Draco was still staring in wonder at the place where his lion had vanished. “It was so beautiful,” Draco said quietly. “I didn’t know it would. I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Harry found his voice, “There’s nothing like seeing it for the first time. That bit of you that you’ve never laid eyes on before. Right in front of your face.”

“Yes,” Draco said reverently. Then, hesitant, “Show me yours?” 

Harry stood and raised his wand, “Expecto Patronum!” And the stag came at his call, as he knew it would. Quickly and easily as a devoted old friend. 

With the torches lit, the stag did not appear as dazzlingly as the lion, though it was just as huge. It stepped delicately right up to Draco, and lingered, nose to nose with him for just a moment before it disappeared. 

“I wish he could be with me all the time,” Draco said softly, almost to himself. “My lion.” 

“Well,” Harry said. “He is, isn’t he?”

A slow smile spread over Draco’s face, “I suppose you’re right.” 

———-

read the rest on AO3!

[somian-audere]

ENTRY XXII

Step forward

I did it, bois! I did it!

            I had a one-on-one hang out with a cute girl today, and it wasn’t completely awkward, sure there were awkward silences, but that’s mostly because my conversational stat is low. Learned a lot too, fun fact, the term “ambivert” may be complete nonsense. I’ll be honest though, getting to this point was a journey of pain.

It all started when I woke up.

            My throat was soaring, flyin’, there’s not a star that- Ahem, in short, my throat was in absolute pain. I blame it on the weather, as yesterday I unfortunately faced a storm, not a metaphorical one but a sudden storm that resulted in wet socks and wet everything, that’s what she said. Anyways, I fought on, but then another thing happened, LBM.

The solution was medicinal drugs,

            Thank you, science! After getting through the arduous process of recovery, I had to go to class luckily, I told my groupmates that my throat was not going to make it through the day, so they subbed for my part in the presentation. Grades truly are a great motivator. Nonetheless, I made it and it was fun to talk with someone else outside of my friend group. I definitely have to do more out of character stuff.

We just talked about our day,

            And it was interesting to hear about someone else’s experience in the university, and while you’ve seen my own perspective of it, hers was optimistic, reminding me of why deep down I admire all the students that work hard in it. Regardless of all the individual fruits of their efforts, I can see that they’re all striving for a future that has yet to come. I’m jealous, had I been more open in my youth, could I have been more like them? Probably, probably not, all I know is that I can only be myself, and that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out all along. Exploring various aspects of myself, I mean, I didn’t even know I could hold a conversation for that long. Granted I ran out of stamina at the end, the salad I was eating was my fuel.

I’m glad that I challenged myself,

            Sure, it may not result to much in the long run, but that doesn’t matter, nothing really results much in the end. What matters is that, I tried something new, something else. And that may be able to change something. I am relatively concerned though, that underneath their exterior strength, there remains pain. Is pain the catalyst for growth and development? Perhaps, but right now, I’m regaining faith in surpassing my own pain. Realizing that you may not be alone, though sad, can make you feel like you can get through it.

But Somi, what was she like?

            She was pretty kind, yeah, I’m not really sure why she wanted to meet up with me, but hey I made a new friend! That was cool, and she liked Hamilton, which was pretty neat. Her favorites were the Aaron Burr songs, and as we all know, every Hamilton fan stans Aaron Burr because his performance was just peak. We also conversed about Wes Anderson, Fantastic Mr. Fox, and Isle of Dogs rocks btw. We discussed the difference between geeks and nerds, geeks are (based on what I know) are just really into their own interests like a hobby while nerds are really good with science. We talked about other stuff that I won’t share here due to privacy reasons, but it was neat. I found that even though I was probably the dumbest person in the university, the challenges that we face aren’t all that different. Everyone is doing what they can, and even though I may not be sure about what I’m doing I’ll just do the same.

____________________________________________________________

I told you that you could do it.

I know, it seems as though your stupidity does have some merit to it.

Please, being smart never ends well for us, we’re just idiots that are trying our best.

I suppose that’s the way it should’ve always been from the beginning.

This simply proves that you can talk to people even though your experiences are different. If you keep this up, you won’t even have to talk to me anymore.

Are you kidding?

--?

Didn’t you say that you’ll always be by my side? Until the bitter end.

Why are you so sure it’ll be bitter?

A sweet ending just isn’t for us, it’s too boring, life is more than just me standing still, I was so lost in trying to follow a single path that I never realized that I could run in every single direction. And eventually, I’ll find where I’m supposed to be. One step at a time.

Heh, I really am a bad influence.

You really are.

To be fair I had “This fucked-up wonderful world exists for me [1]” stuck in my head so I was running on full adrenaline.

Running on impulse is just our style.

Hell yeah.

Better not forget to send her the link to my Tumblr though.

Aw, shoot. Welp, goodbye any form of respect that other people may have for me.

____________________________________________________________

Just don't share this too much,

This thing shouldn't find itself back to me. It's still a bit of a personal secret.

References:

[1] Eve. (2015). This fucked-up wonderful world exists for me (Eve cover). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVg8orAhz4g

[princesspumpkinseed]

Yesterday was fun, productive, unique, and impressive and yet I seem to be punishing myself mentally this morning. Like usual, I banish such self-judgement from my consciousness by blogging in order to appreciate the beautiful things and to put the supposed bad things I committed into perspective.

As usual, I started my day with a coffee and today I actually photographed it. A double espresso with some soya is what I take each morning and I may indeed put it into a glass to make myself feel more fashionable. As I write this, Ihave my coffee in a little white teacup but I can assure you that it tasted as softly bitter as that fluffy tumbler of caffeine from yesterday.

I’m trying to get back into yoga with Adriene because I have recently be following yoga with Allie Van Fossen a lot. I love both channels but whenever I haven’t done a 30-day challenge with Adriene in a while I find that I lose a lot of corporal integrity. Other yogis may offer a lovely flexible or strengthening flow but Adriene seems to propose everything in correct measure.

For once, I didn’t have avocado toast for breakfast! Having used up the sourdough yesterday, I baked some oats (and I added some peanut butter after this photo was taken and I started eating). This is certainly an impressive breakfast but the one problem was that it was so filling that I wasn’t necessarily hungry for the lunch that I had at 11h30 (since my logic class started at 13h).

After breakfast, I went straight into revision and worked through some functional analysis examples for an hour and a half until I was yearning for some bodily movement. I did day 2 of one of Sanne Vloet’s pilates challenges (which I had done before, yet still was surprised at how little this supposed glute workout focused on the glutes). The, finally I showered, dressed, and made a vegetarian sausage sandwich for lunch. I guess that I feel quite bad because my carb and fat intake on this day was higher than normal, but in reflection I’m going to do an aerobics class this morning and therefore it would be nice to take a lighter breakfast beforehand to not feel groggy and to still feel fuelled so I’m not too concerned.

My outfit was very dark-academic, once more, but still classy, I think. I wore a blouse with a beige butterfly pattern, a black mini pencil skirt, and a grey blazer. I did feel quite powerful and the best was for me to appreciate the good weather is to dress for it.

This afternoon, I had my final classes of my degree (which is so bittersweet). Unfortunately, my number theory teacher had to ask our support session leader to run this class, but I think that he will be holding a zoom class right before the exam. I would indeed like to be taught once more by him.

I was feeling fatigued after my classes but I found that walking my friend to her car made me feel invigorated and then afterwards I powered through the rest of the functional analysis examples that I wanted to review.

Coming home, I changed into comfortable yet presentable clothes, I started vacuuming (but will have to finish doing the ground floor later on today), I ate a pie with vegetables for dinner (there was really no way of making this meal look healthy or gourmet but I think I managed to turn it into something more balanced), and then I called my boyfriend. I don’t want to say too much about my relationship on the internet but damn that boy lights up my life.

The main reason I feel guilty, I suppose, was that I expected to finish writing my logic note sheet this evening but I was then invited over for tea by my friend and I wanted to take advantage of that delicious offer on the sunny evening. It was lovely and we shared a lot of music, specifically metal (which I’ve been craving recently by relistening to BFMV and Halestorm), but a lot of other genres also. I haven’t received such a wealth of music suggestions from someone who wasn’t my dad in so long and I expect my spotify playlists to become slightly more adventurous.

Returning home, I of course did my little night-time routine and began criticising the fact that I didn’t do the logic sheet. The only way to make it better, I think, is to do it as soon and efficiently as possible, which is exactly my intention.

[evelyne-am]

18th March 2023

Trying to catch up a bit faster as my thoughts are escaping me when the next day comes. Today one of the group members hasn’t showed up. Another one of the boys. But this time it was mentioned. It has cast a damper on the rehearsal I think. Our exercises, though, are going better because M has joined. Yesterday Sir had told us to take risks. And I took that really seriously, even in the exercises I’m taking a bit more initiative; whereas in the past month in the workshops and previous rehearsals I always hung back and waited.

There is a part of me that enjoys being, for the lack of better word, the most uneducated person in this room. When I was in Mita khalas rabindrasangeet group, I would feel like that, especially because I was one of the youngest. There’s a part of me that likes being a young student. That was my role for 10 years. I was in university from the age of 19 to 29. It’s what comes most naturally to me, taking notes, going to class, listening to instructions. After moving to Bangladesh I became the teacher. Even with people older than me I’m directing, and directing is always fun. It’s a very lonely job. But that’s not the part I don’t enjoy; what I don’t enjoy is that being a director means that it’s full-fledged admin work. The creative part is so little, it’s full-fledged scheduling, budgeting, making calls, basically really far away from the creative part, the skills building.

However, right now I have no other responsibility except to know my character and to know the story. It’s absolutely amazing. I feel pangs of envy for people in my group and other groups that do this full time. Today’s rehearsal was again hard on me. The second half especially because I didn’t sleep much. I’m trying to be super aware and conscious and alert though. On day two I lost my favourite flask, I’m currently borrowing someone else’s and trying to be mindful that I don’t lose it. Yesterday I was walking home and apparently my Mum yelled at me from her car that she was leaving and I didn’t even hear her. Today I lowered the volume when I was walking. I saw mum again and I waved at her.

Sir has asked one thing from us, it is to be present and I must practice that throughout the rest of the day. The rehearsal went okay. Sir is not happy with the pace that he is pushing us. We watched interviews of actual war heroes today and it was really really intense. The exercises we did drew into our personal pains and were equally as intense. The rehearsal room was very quiet today.

The intensity is definitely going. I did get a compliment, I was debating whether to share it with you. My sister said why not. The compliment was that because I am daily one who has no background on this I am the one who is working hardest. I enjoyed this element, but I know it's because I have not shown my hundred percent yet. I am still at 50 to 75. If I can balance out my personal life, have healthy habits, and all the admin work I have to do as a music director, I will be able to do more. I also need to stop doing my bloody social media so much! Who has five Instagrams? Overall we left class a bit low.

I had a couple of hours outside my ‘71 world today and I have to admit it was nice. It was like a bit of rest and I suppose I should have a little bit of head popping out every once in a while. Two hours is a good amount of time.

Oh! In class it was mentioned that we want to create some music from the text; everyone looked at me. And I would say it's a great responsibility and I will work on it at home. And so I did, didn’t sleep early tonight either..

I have been talking to someone about getting a part-time gig, but that would be really loud. I would have to be on social media all the time, even though it would be a couple of times a week and would really pay my bills.(Social media and I have our usual TugOfWar relationship)

I see everyone in the group and this is all they’re doing right now. Maybe I need to do that too. I have some savings that can pull me through the end of the theatre production.

I’m debating if I can do that. PS. I did not go to AniMes’ party at Coke today. It was hard to say no but I was exhausted and I needed to do the music homework. I’m a little proud of myself for being able to say 'no' to that. I also apologised to that person, who as sweet as they are said not to even worry. Sent 3 versions of the music homework and passed out.

[ayearwithoutwater]

Thirteen.

In the summer of 2022, I was down bad. My breakup was still fresh, and I was doing whatever I could to make amends with my ex-boyfriend.

In as many ways, I wanted him to know that I was sorry, that I loved him, that maybe he still loved me, and I tried to match my actions to my words. I called his skincare specialist to prepay for his facial treatments; I had bouquets of roses delivered to his apartment on a monthly basis; I wrote him a letter about all the reasons why I adored him and attached laminated copies of our photos to boot.

My therapists knew that I was hurting, and they tried to talk me out of it. "He doesn't want to be with you," one of them would repeat, bluntly, not unkind but still honest enough to make me burst into tears. She was right—he didn't want to be with me. He was steadfastly determined to "move on to his next chapter," as he'd said to me, and whatever that looked like simply didn't also include me. Moreover, she said that I was setting myself up for further rejections, each one a gut punch as heavy as the last. By organizing these overtures to him, I raised my own hopes; as he responded to each with mere silence, I crashed once more.

I came to my senses in June. I'd spent a night (platonically) hanging out with a boy who'd asked if I wanted to sleep over; I'd declined out of fear that I was reading too much into his suggestion, because he probably actually meant that I would be sleeping on his couch and not with him. I returned home and, as I ordered more flowers for my ex-boyfriend, I was reminded by what my therapist had said: I was only setting myself up for more rejection. Enough was enough—I called the florist and canceled my order. Instead, I took that money and signed up for creative writing classes through Gotham Writers Workshop.

Even prior to this breakup, which has become a formative catalyst for all of my writing since, I'd been working on a memoir-style collection for eventual publication. As I finally mustered the mental resolve to refrain from sending my ex-boyfriend any more gifts, thereby allowing myself to begin moving on, I knew that I needed an emotional outlet. I reasoned that creative writing classes would achieve two goals: I'd have a place to direct all of my emotional output, and I'd be forced to work on my broader goal of completing my novel.

My classes were weekly and held over Zoom. After the workday, during which I was wholly unproductive because I was still distraught, I would log into our class over video conference with approximately ten other people to workshop my drafts or practice various written techniques.

Honestly, it was kind of fun. I had an excuse to venture outside my comfort zone and try different styles of writing; without the mandated instruction, I would normally feel too embarrassed to be writing in those ways because they don't feel true to me at all.

Take, for example, the below:

It’s been two weeks since I last cried I just haven’t felt much of the need, until yesterday I felt it well up within but I didn’t give it enough fuel to release, so the waves subsided receded into my recesses

Do I deny myself catharsis by not following through?

But I’ve cried so much in the past three months I just don’t see the point I’d like to move on forward

I haven’t yet figured out whether it’s you or just the fact that you were someone

I've always shied away from poetry because I haven't studied its various rhythmic structures, and, to speak frankly, because I'm afraid of putting out bad writing. But writing for a class gave me purchase to experiment with structures and phrasings, words I customarily never use presented in syntaxes I would otherwise be too mortified to attempt. I had every excuse to try and, so, I did.

As the instructor narrated, I clicked around absentmindedly through my computer files. In my recycling bin, I found an electronic copy of my ex-boyfriend's coronavirus vaccination card, which we'd needed to upload for some of the travel we had done. His omnipresence haunted me.

Other exercises prompted us to incorporate certain words or feelings, such as the five senses, written as if the narrator were blind:

A brisk knock at my door; I walk over to open it. The air that rushes into my apartment brings with it a familiar friend—a warm scent, almost like fresh laundry—and I know immediately that it’s him.

“Hi,” he says, in his clipped staccato of Singaporean English; by how the sound of the word is framed as it exits his mouth, I can tell he’s smiling.

I step aside to let him in. He closes the door behind him and pulls me in tight, his lips pressed against mine. He’s shorter than I am, so he stands on tip-toe. As he kisses me, tasting of mint, I wrap my arms around him. "He’s ironed his shirt again," I think to myself, feeling its creaseless fabric with my hands. My right hand moves up to cup the back of his head (his hair is cropped short, neat, and fades from slightly longer up top to nothingness below) to keep his face against mine just a little bit longer.

There’s a weird sensation in my chest. It has the depth of urgency, as if I need to do something right now, and its impulsivity steers my mind onto one thought only: him. The simultaneous sensations of him in my mind and him in my arms, the collision of psychodramatic desire with physical possession, make me almost giddy with lightheadedness. I didn’t realize it, but I’d been thinking of him all day, anticipating this very moment.

Is this what they call love?

My teacher told me to lean into the emotions of my breakup if that was what fueled my output at the time but, although I physically felt the relief I was giving myself by letting out my emotions in this way, I didn't want everything I would write in class to be about the one person I was trying to get over. I felt like a stereotype, and I was determined to plumb my own depths for other source material. Luckily for me, I had plenty.

“You take me for granted,” Yin had said. The warmth I would see in her eyes and that would suffuse her voice had long since disappeared; our East Village apartment no longer felt like home.

My immediate reaction was denial, and her words echoed in my head, repeated ad nauseam. “I don’t do that,” I thought to myself, “do I?”

I had loved her, dearly. She was my best friend of five years, and we had a shared coming of age in New York, enabling one another to discover and explore our sexual identities. She had been by my side through both of my boyfriends and countless flings, and I was one of the only people with her when she came out to her family.

I imagined her turning away, stalking back into her room and slamming the door behind her. Of course, this didn’t actually happen; she had said this to me through text message and, besides, she’s not the type to slam doors. Hers was a dispassionate anger, devoid of emotion, neither hot nor cold but, simply, empty. Emptiness marked the depths of her upset with me, an endless void where her love for me used to exist.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something, to grab her blue plastic spray bottle and squirt water everywhere, to shout and yell and cry. How could I lose her? She was one of the extraordinarily few people who truly understood me, and I blew it. My ring finger agonized, a band-shaped area achingly naked with the absence of her silver ring that I would always borrow so that I never felt alone. How did things get this bad? 

Yin moves out, and I’m left in the apartment. I wander the hallway, unfeeling, numb to my core; I’m a skeleton rowing a boat atop the malaise that’s submerged our relationship—drowned by the liquid of that stupid spray bottle—the foundation of which having become, as a result, unsalvageable. I’ll never be able to fix this.

I don’t stop thinking of her, don’t stop looking for traces of her within all of my remaining and all of my subsequent new friends. The echoes of her haunt me, reappearing throughout the rest of my life. She never leaves my mind, her corpse lying flat within my boat as I try to row on and move forward with my life, her absence so unavoidably present. Nobody plays the role of best friend quite the same.

After reading aloud what I'd written for the class to dissect, my teacher asked what makes me happy. I didn't know how to answer—I hadn't felt joy in months, and I apologized for consistently bringing melancholia to the class, but I responded that it's simply being with the people I cherish. I've already had enough losses to last me a lifetime.

At the end of the semester, I opted not to enroll in the next courses. I wanted to return when I had much more material to workshop, and I was feeling overwhelmed from all the emotional excavation I was doing. I wanted to give myself a break from keeping open my wounds so that they might begin to heal, and I wanted to move on to my own next chapter.

[greydiminishing]

2/3/24

yesterday was my birthday. I had a good day.

My first class yesterday was fun, we came up with project ideas as a class, then someone would pick one of the ideas, and those who liked it could come together and form a group. I'm excited about my project topic (developing a daily outfit picker), AND everybody I secretly hoped to be in a group with JOINED MY GROUP!! I'm so lucky!

Between this and my next class, I ate a granola bar. I got these Sunbelt banana granola bars and they're probably the best granola bars I've ever had. They taste like dessert, it made me happy lol. Now I have to try all the flavors.

I worked a bit on the project for my next class, its writing python methods and unit tests for a postgres database. I found that it seemed to be pretty straightforward and kinda fun. As long as I don't leave it to the last minute like last time :p. This next class was just lecture, so not too bad, but then we ended class 20 minutes early?? lucky again!!

After this I have 4 hours till my next class. I got a bagel and a brownie from a cafe on campus. I asked for a plain bagel with cream cheese. I kinda expected to get it how you get bagels in NJ, loaded with cream cheese, sandwiched together and wrapped in foil. They handed me a parchment bag with a bagel and 2 of those mini Philadelphia cream cheese cups. Honestly I was a little disappointed, I mean, as disappointed as you can be over just a bagel lmao. But you mean I gotta make it myself?!? I took it home and toasted it, and had half with cream cheese and half with butter. Tell me why this was one of the best bagels I've ever had?? The outside was crispy and shattering, the inside was still soft and chewy, it was so good omg.

A few days ago my mom sent me a package with my meds, and some "other stuff" that she wanted me to call before I opened. The "other stuff" was birthday presents!! In the box was a lovely card, a pack of mini red velvet muffins, some of my favorite cashews and macadamia nuts, a bag of these lattice cut chips I really like, a packet of fajita seasoning I really like lol, a cute purple pepper spray that goes on your keychain, and a really nice mug. So much stuff, I really wasn't expecting it haha! I had a quick call with my mom before I had to get to my next class.

Physics can be pretty boring and annoying sometimes. Idk if it was just because it was my birthday so everything was great, but class wasn't that bad. Pretty average. It is a two hour class though :/

After class I went to check out a "no-sew blankets and hot chocolate" campus event thing. When I went in they said they were out of blanket materials, and the line for the hot chocolate was crazy long (especially when I have hot chocolate at home lol), but then they gave me a $5 dunkin gift card?? huh?? That's pretty cool lol.

Then I stopped by Salsaritas for dinner, I got a burrito and chips and queso. This was a birthday treat for myself cause one small burrito and a bag of chips with queso was $15. That's crazy to me. I guess that's probably normal, but idk I can't justify that cost, so its a once in a while thing. It was good tho.

I stayed in for the night, watched Bocchi the rock, ate my burrito, had a red velvet cupcake. It was a good time.

I told my roommates it was my birthday and they asked if I had any plans. It's always so embarrassing to be like "ahh no, no plans I'm too tired and too busy with homework and stuff haha". But screw that! I DID have plans, and those plans were to enjoy my peaceful solitude in my cozy dark room (I didn't say that though lol).

It's very easy to be sad and sorry for myself because I didn't have any "plans" or do anything special. But I stayed in and watched anime, which is exactly what my INTP self likes to do on a friday night after a socially exhausting week of classes.

I had a good day and a good birthday :)

[followmythoughts]

11/27/23

 It’s almost December so it’s time for the seasonal depression. I am gonna try to let everything out. Keyword: try. So many thoughts inside my head yet not all I can fully explain. It’s too tiring, and I guess, somewhat complex. I don’t think anyone will understand so for the sake of us all I will keep this all to myself. My notes and Tumblr are the only exception — unless if someone manages to find out.

I hate that I am nostalgic. It is my biggest drug. I miss yesterday. I miss who I was two months ago. I miss every moment I felt some type of emotion in. I miss my childhood. I miss my friends. I miss my old class. I miss everything. People may say that nostalgia is beautiful, but I simply don’t have it inside me to call it that. It’s more like bittersweet and grief. How can I call it beautiful when all it does is make me miserable? I am stuck in the past 24/7. It’s a cycle, because when I start to think that maybe, life is better right now. My present life is much more better than it was before. I come spiraling back. It will never pass. I can never truly let go of something, and if I have - it will always have claw marks. Proof of how I held it so tightly. If I had a chance, or a decision where I had to make a choice - I will always pick the option to go back in time. No matter how rich I am today, no matter how many friends I have made. I will always want to go back in time with my current knowledge. That’s all I want in life: I will always be chasing the same emotions of what I felt when I was just a child. Every birthday of mine, I wish that I wake up one day by a familiar scent, and as I look down at my hands I find out that they have returned to it’s 5 yr old self. And I am a child again. I know that there’s no chance but I hope. I foolishly hope it comes true one day.

Why do I keep thinking that life’s just a game? It’s the reason on why I do risky stuff - because I simply think I am no more but a virtual character whom you can reset anytime you want. But no, it doesn’t work like that. It’s reality. I am painfully self aware but I can’t bring myself to change. I don’t wanna grow up and live a 9-5 life. I guess this is my coping mechanism. That time where I just stopped going to school, and because of that my family had to carry the consequences of paying 20k. I kept telling myself that I’ll just kill myself when I get caught; and when I think back on it now - I want to laugh in disbelief because no way, I actually thought of that? It’s just like resetting your character on roblox. One click, and boom, reset. Act like you’ve never done anything wrong. How painfully naive. Tell that to my 2022 self where I hugged the tied blanket so tightly, debating on whether to actually do it or not. She will fucking laugh in your face. I am aware. I’m so self aware, yet I am still self sabotaging myself just because I am lazy. I know doing this specific thing will have consequences in the future and will just make my family drown in more debt but guess what? Nah, won’t do a single thing just because I am lazy. I actually cannot do this anymore. I tell myself I will change but I simply cannot. This year is my last chance. It’s nearing 2024 and if I simply cannot change, I will have no choice but to end it all because I cannot see myself having a future and a happy life with this. Life is fun though, life is chill, my friends and sister makes me happy. But I don’t want to burden my family even more. So I think killing myself is the best option. What am I talking about? You will never know. Life is so tiring man. I wanna die again. Hahahah, still remember those times where I had to beg God to take me. Couldn’t bring myself to do it. I am a coward. I had no idea how I was going to escape this. It is a cycle. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn't understand. Maybe I was lacking.

It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from all of the people. But there was no place to go. Suicide? Jesus Christ, just more work. I felt like sleeping for five years but they wouldn't let me.

[at0micc0la]

IT ISSSS, like how can someone live without pasta :'cccc (it indeed means no more lasagna, noooo) you're so right, it jad enough of me constantly breaking the rules 💔

I'm not even surprised, the egg event is so fun. do you have a favourite one?(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) OH MY GOSH WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FAINT??! are you okay?? no injury?? jesus that has to be so scary, how are you feeling?? did it got better since then?🥺 I'm so glad that some people from your university were around!!♡ as you should, eat your breakfast!! i also don't eat it but i know it's important i mean you kept your body overnight without any food and breakfast helps you get a bit more of the energy. please don't forget your breakfast again, we don't want you to faint again♡

He indeed is, can see why you love that shark boy. personally love Valorant but I completely get it, Valorant isn't for everyone :cc hope he'll get more of other content soon, i mean there's so much games he can play :< since 12?! aww man, he's basically streamer you grow up around, so cute(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) (remind me of the time i started to watch Rubius in 11 and completely didn't understand a world for a few years lol)

Thankfully not here, if classes are cancelled they're cancelled. no rescheduling no double classes, it's honestly so nice. -🐈

The egg event was so good!!! There is so much drama, like, Foolish and Mariana yesterday (4/6) had a sleepover w the eggs and they kissed!!!

As we say here, my tv just turned itself off, thanks to the gods that I didn't hit myself, I'm working on getting over this hate for breakfast (i swear that is the worst ) o(TヘTo)

Yeah yeah, the shark boy is so comforting, and I think he has a nice voice to listento o(*￣▽￣*)ブ. Yeah yeah, he is my parasocial bestie sjjssj. I remember NOT watching Rubius bc my parents are strict so they don't like cuss words and Rubius was always cussing!!!!! Like German (if any english speaker is reading this, German is a chilean "og youtuber" that did skits, they were funny but at the same time they are product of the time) but rubius and mangel videos in their spain house were amazing, good times those

SO jealous of your classes, I had an stressful week (it doesn't help that I been procrastinating everything) and it feels like I have no time but at the same time I been doing nothig (it doesn't help that I been so focused in watching Hunter x Hunter, like that serie is SOOOO GOOD, completely recommende if you haven't seen it)

I want to apologize cat, I left this ask written half of it and then had it in the back of my mind :cc. How was your week?? I presented my economy's work and the professor said that if with my group didn't have a job later in life we could do it so... I kinda have a job jsjsjs

[nex-pls]

Thinking about a conversation I had with a coworker yesterday after work. This is someone I made friends with rapidly and they grew up very similarly to how I did, just in a different state (very poor and just barely scraping by with their family).

We were talking about food and how much we both love it, and I said "Yeah, I just love food-" to which they replied "Well, growing up poor, you learn to love food, it's just a part of growing up that way." And it got me thinking.

I grew up very poor. To me, I could lose electricity at any moment as a child. My mom would regularly send me down to the store in Arizona where I would load $3 in change onto a card to then stick into our electricity machine at home so we could have the lights on for two more days to make it till payday. I remember scavenging for any loose change I could find inside and outside of my house, so my brother and I could walk down to the McDonald's at the end of the busy highway we lived by, and buy a $1 cheeseburger to share, which now costs nearly $3. I remember being told "Mom and dad could only afford to get one present this year for Christmas, so you and your brother have to share." And gifts from Santa actually came from my grandmother who didn't want us to go without. I remember distinctly my mother going into big brand clothing stores, stealing two or three shirts, and "returning" them for gift cards so she could buy school clothes for me and my brother. I remember freaking out and biting a kid once in sixth grade, because he threatened to steal my school provided lunch, and grabbed for my milk box. And then being made fun of for being fat, despite the fact that the school lunch was the only meal I was truly guaranteed in a day. I never turned down free food, I always asked my friends to buy me snacks and would work very hard to pay them back, and was called fat, and ugly, and heavy, and gross, because I cared about food as much as I cared about classes and friends.

When you're poor, food is a commodity that can be taken at any time from you. You're always afraid of losing it, especially as a child. I remember when the school decided my mother made too much for us to receive free lunches, so we were told we had to pay for our lunches, 40¢ was the lowest they could go, but 40¢ every day for five days a week when you have two children, and can barely afford to keep the lights on? Soon even my free lunches were no longer guaranteed. I'd go to the nurse for stomach aches, because I was so hungry my stomach literally hurt, and I wouldn't feel better until I got to nibble on the small crackers they offered.

So many people take food for granted, and you know boomers and their "there's hungry children in Africa!" Sentiment, completely ignoring the hungry children in their own country. And growing up like that, growing up very food insecure, you learn to love it. Everything. You're more willing to try new foods, even if you're autistic (like I am). You learn to appreciate a flavor profile, you love when there's lots of colors in your plate, you taste food with every one of your senses before you even take a bite, and you love it. And I didn't even put it together my love of food and my childhood until it was phrased to me that way.

It really is true. When you're poor, you learn to love food.

[ot7always]

Ignorantly, Yours

Word Count: 10.6k

Pairing: Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader

Genre: Wolf!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU; fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: dom!Jimin, sub!reader, A/B/O dynamics, heat sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk (including a bit of possessiveness), marking, creampie, hair pulling, degradation, praise, rough sex, multiple orgasms

Rating: 18+

Summary:  You never could have expected your best friend to show up at your apartment right as you were about to go into heat, but when he did, something in you just wouldn’t let him go.

A/N: Truly, this was never supposed to be more than drabble. Which truly became a nuisance once it grew a lot and I had to go back and change a lot of things during editing. This is my first fic with some sort of supernatural element to it, and I had a lot of fun! I hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Reposted without the header gif and without any links or taglist. Sorry for any inconvenience if you were already looking at the first post. I will reblog with the taglist shortly.

--

Maybe it should have been embarrassing.

Maybe it was, 5 years ago when the habit first started.

5 years ago, when you’d had your first pre-heat. When the world had quickly become too overwhelming, your nose unused to the myriad of scents that assaulted you in your sensitivity. Your skin feeling so raw that even the clothes on your back felt uncomfortable.

It was then, in your childhood bedroom, amidst everything else, you recognized a scent that accompanied you through your life for as long as you could remember. A scent that felt like home, felt like warm days under the sun and shared laughter under blankets at midnight.

Your nose had led you to the bottom drawer of your dresser, your hands digging through the mess of fabric there until you pulled out an orange hoodie. You didn’t remember ever having it, and it looked small enough to have been from years ago – maybe even from before he presented.

But as you pulled it out of that drawer, the scent that might have been faint to you any other day filled your nostrils. A blueberry and pine scent that left you feeling calmer instantly, safer. Whether that had to do more with your friendship or his alpha status wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind. All you knew at the time was that it made everything better – he made everything better, even when he wasn’t there.

That marked the first time you laid in your bed, curling yourself around that small piece of comfort, your face shoved into the soft fabric. The peace that washed over you then was addicting, and any thought of giving up that feeling was unfathomable.

And if Jimin noticed how you were covered in his own scent when he saw you after every heat since that day, he didn’t say a thing.

--

You missed him a lot.

It wasn’t as though his university was that far away, and you should have grown used to it after several years of living apart for most of the year. Weekend visits were hardly enough when you’d spent more time together than apart growing up.

It definitely didn’t feel like enough when you were lying in bed, surrounded by the products of your skillful swiping over the years during Jimin’s visits. Hoodies, t-shirts – you had at least a dozen by now. All of which were tossed across your bed alongside you, your upper body already clad in one of his oversized hoodies.

When your pre-heat started affecting you yesterday, you’d already emailed your professors to tell them you wouldn’t be able to make it to class for the week. They, of course, understood – every university accommodated for their students to get a week off about every 3 months for this exact reason.

You were already overcome by exhaustion, Jimin’s scent wafting around the room lulling you into a sleepy daze.

It was common for an omega to nest amongst an alpha’s scent before their heat, though said alpha would typically be their partner.

It wasn’t something you liked to think on very often. Something like this couldn’t be that uncommon, right? After all, he was your first friend, and that went beyond being an alpha or omega. Besides, if it bothered him, wouldn’t he have already called you out for it by now? Wouldn’t he have said something when he realized that even when you’d started spending every heat with an alpha, his scent was still somewhere in there?

You tried not to worry too much about it. It didn’t matter, anyway.

Based on how you were feeling, you knew your heat would probably be here within 2 or 3 days. Which meant you should probably call someone soon to ask them to help you through it. It was normal practice to ask a friend to help you with your heat, but it was a line you’d never crossed with Jimin. Rejection was never something you dealt with well, and you were too afraid to put him, of all people, in that position. Knowing him, he would agree even if he didn’t want to.

Who, then? Namjoon? Hoseok? Both have agreed before, though the notion of crossing your room to pick up the phone you’d so foolishly left on the dresser was severely unappealing.

Instead, you let your eyes flutter shut, your face nuzzling into a blue and red scarf Jimin had forgotten at your apartment last winter. As the tranquility washed over you, your mind drifted closer and closer to sleep, warm and cozy and surrounded by Jimin’s scent.

Until the doorbell rang through your apartment.

At first you elected to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would get the hint and go away. But when it sounded out 2 more times after you hadn’t moved in several minutes, you groaned.

Wasn’t it bad etiquette to do this to someone? Surely that had to be written in a handbook somewhere.

With heavy limbs, you dragged yourself out of bed, flipping the hood up on your (well, Jimin’s) hoodie. As much as it may have been a bad idea to answer the door by yourself in pre-heat, your scent enveloped by an alpha’s would be enough to ward off unwanted advances. Though there were definitely bad people in the world, it took a truly insane person to go after an omega scented by an alpha.

When you made it to the door, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself to ream out whoever was on the other side. While you could sense someone’s presence there, every apartment was insulated, scent-wise, for protection. You didn’t know what to expect.

But of every possibility, when you opened the door, you didn’t expect to get assaulted by the very scent you’d been basking in only minutes ago. You didn’t notice how his eyes widened or how his pupils dilated when your scent hit him, too preoccupied by your body’s visceral reaction.

The full force of his scent almost had your knees buckling, your eyelids growing heavier as every single part of you instinctively yearned to curl up into him. Maybe your heat was closer than you thought.

When you were finally able to focus your eyes on him, his teeth were biting into his bottom lip, the hand holding an overnight bag clenched so hard his knuckles were white.

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything before you were stumbling forward, colliding messily with him, only focused on getting as close to him as possible.

You barely heard a mumbled ‘shit,’ not registering that he backed you into your apartment until you heard the door slam, his bag hitting the floor.

“Jimin,” you mumbled, your hands grasping at his shirt, eyes closed as you shoved your face into his neck, sighing happily when you were finally as close to the source of your happiness as possible.

But much to your discontent, he pushed you from him, keeping you an arms’ length away. The whimper you let out in response sounded pathetic even to your own ears, but every cell in your body was screaming to get as close to him as possible.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, the unusual hardness in his tone snapping you out of your daze slightly, wide eyes fixing onto his face. He audibly gulped at the glazed look in your eyes, before continuing. “You’re in heat.”

“I’m not,” you whined, trying to push against his hands, but he was stronger than you were.

“You will be,” he responded, letting out an incredulous sigh. “Fuck. I meant to surprise you but I forgot what the date was, I’m so sorry.”

“But I’m not yet,” you complained, changing tactics and instead aiming to shove your nose into the wrists near your shoulders. When your hair swished with your movement, sending a whiff of shampoo and your scent Jimin’s way, he groaned loudly.

“God, I can’t be here, I should go,” he said through gritted teeth. But when he started leaning down to pick his bag back up, you panicked.

“NO!” you yelled, launching yourself at him with your whole weight, not at all concerned about how he stumbled back in surprise. Your hands gripping onto his waist, you looked at him with wide eyes, your irises barely visible around the black of your dilated pupils. “Please don’t leave.”

His composure visibly cracked at the desperation on your face, but the sensation of your hands trembling in their grip on him brought him back to reality. “I can’t stay, I know that you know that-”

“Why?” you cried, your bottom lip trembling. The logical part of you deep inside knew you were being unreasonable, but even that part of you was a slave to instinct. All you knew was that Jimin got you through every pre-heat, and here Jimin was in front of you now. He’d never seen you like this, not ever in the last 5 years. And now that he has, nothing has ever been more unappealing than the thought of him walking out your front door.

He was very clearly taking shallow breaths, eventually bringing his own wrist to his nose to try to drown out everything else. Based on the low grunt he let out, it didn’t seem to be working very well.

“You smell like you’re going to go into heat at any moment, fuck, I can’t,” he panted, every part of him resisting the urge to grab you and scent you until there was absolutely no question whether you were his.

Except you weren’t his.

“I-I...” he stuttered, the scent of you not only clinging to him, but everywhere throughout the apartment occupying every part of his brain. “I need to go, I’ll call someone for you, Hoseok or-”

But that was definitely the wrong thing to say, because you sprung back from him as though you’ve been burned. When you looked at him as though he’d betrayed you, he knew he’d messed up.

“Why? You’re already here,” you spat out. “Don’t go,” you finished in a much weaker voice, pleading gaze fixing onto his.

A flash of pain went through him when he saw you hug yourself around the middle, as though to appear smaller. As though to protect yourself. From him.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking of you!” you wailed, the space between you feeling wider than it’s ever been.

“I can’t,” he repeated, a tinge of desperation making its way into his tone. Why was this so hard? From what he knew about omega heats and pre-heats, without a partner or relationship you shouldn’t have cared this much about which alpha stayed with you.

“Aren’t we friends? Can’t you just stay?” you begged, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Something about him trying to leave felt like a hole was being ripped through your chest, even if you’d understand why any other day.

“Of course we’re friends,” he said incredulously, a conflicted expression on his face. He knew exactly what you meant, exactly what was implied within that statement. When something like desire crossed his gaze, you felt a dash of hope bloom within you. “But...”

And it was crushed just like that. “Why don’t you want me when I want you? What’s wrong with me?” you sobbed, the tears finally spilling from your eyes as you dropped to your knees.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The smell of an omega in distress was always something that set off an alpha’s protective instinct.

But the knowledge that he was the one who caused it brought forth an ugly wrenching in his gut.

For all the required readings Jimin had done in the course of his life, nothing had ever taught him what to do when the girl you’re secretly in love with was on the floor crying because you refused to fuck her through her heat.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. God, did he want to.

But you weren’t there begging for his heart or his love or his devotion – you were begging for his body. Which wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t that he was offended. The problem was that he wanted more than this, and that right now was most definitely not the time to have that conversation.

And it’s not that he didn’t think you knew what you wanted. He knew you knew that you were asking for sex, but he also knew that was all you were asking for. Pre-heat was about preparing for sex, not romance.

As much as a heat could completely fog an omega’s brain, in pre-heat they could still make coherent decisions. It was typically a time spent preparing for heat, a time to call an alpha or to prepare for the much more painful option of suffering alone. They were typically in a perpetual state of exhaustion, bodies crying out for sleep to save up energy for their heat.

But more importantly, it was a time where omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable, where they gave in to instinct. A time where they surrounded themselves in the things that made them feel safest, most at home.

He knew – he knew you used his scent to get through your pre-heat, but he never thought it meant that much. You were his oldest friend, and the fact that you found comfort in his scent was never something he questioned. He was an alpha, and you scented each other often – it made sense from a biology standpoint.

And – oh.

It hit him then that this was more than an alpha’s refusal to help their friend through their heat. This was more than a refusal for sex.

This was your biggest security blanket pushing you away at your most vulnerable, the person you trusted most to keep you safe leaving you when you were begging him to stay.

He really, really fucked up by coming here.

He should have checked the dates properly in the first place, and now he’d have to deal with the consequences. There was an unbelievably high chance that if he walked out that door, you’d have a breakdown, and he couldn’t just break your heart by leaving now.

Even if it ended up breaking his own. Even if you ended up thinking nothing of it, and he would never be able to erase the memory from his brain.

Because you were begging him to stay out of instinct, out of need. Not out of love. Not that he knew of, not the kind he wanted, at least.

But there was no reason to go there or question you about it, because he knew you’d say anything to make him stay, even if it wasn’t true. Not because you were a liar, but because that’s what your body would push you to do right now.

Knowing that the smell of his own panic would just set you off more, he took a couple deep breaths before falling to his knees in front of you. He had to force down the rising upset in his chest at the scent of your tears, every part of him screaming at himself for upsetting you this deeply.

“Hey,” he called out softly, his hands reaching out to gently pull your hands away from where they were hiding your face. At the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks, his heart tugged. “Look at me.” He slipped a hand forward to cradle your head, brushing against the hair at the nape of your neck. He hoped so badly that he could be a comfort to you, even when he was the one who hurt you in the first place.

He waited almost a minute for you to look up, doing his best to calm you in that time. When you finally raised your eyes to look at him, the fear in your expression was something he’d only ever seen a few times in his life. You were an expert at putting on a brave face for the world, and seeing the uncensored pain displayed there punched him in the gut.

“Baby,” he cooed, pulling you into his arms. He carefully maneuvered your face into the crook of his neck, smiling as you melted into his hold, a content sigh leaving you. He wrapped his arms around you, face rubbing into your hair as he stopped resisting the urge to scent you. He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine at your scent that only seemed to be growing stronger.

The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, your body so limp in his grasp that he had to keep both of you upright himself. He couldn’t tell whether you were awake, goosebumps rising to the surface of his skin as your nose brushed against one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

But when he stood up, wanting to get you somewhere more comfortable than the floor, he felt every muscle in your body tense, a low whine leaving your throat. Your hands grasped onto his shirt. “Jimin-”

“Shh,” he soothed, continuing to nuzzle into you as he stood you both up. “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re not?” you repeated, muffled into his shoulder.

“I’m not.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He scratched lightly at your scalp as the other hand stroked up and down the length of your back, humming when you finally relaxed again, your arms wrapping around to tug him as close as possible. “Good girl.”

Something in him awakened when he heard the hitch of your breath at his words, but he shoved it down. He had to keep a hold of himself while he still had the chance – because once you were in heat, there would be no rest for either of you. Not when it was taking his entire focus to hold himself back right now and it was only your pre-heat.

“I’m gonna take you to your room, okay?” he asked quietly. When you nodded, he scooped you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, head lolling sleepily against his shoulder.

You were very clearly exhausted, and guilt gnawed away at him for it. The emotional ups and downs of the past half hour must have taken even more out of you – while you tended to be quiet, you were never this quiet, not with him. You seemed to be asleep, steady exhales hitting the skin of his neck.

When he entered your room, his heart skipped in his chest at the sight of his belongings strewn across your mattress, a you-sized gap in the middle where you must have been laying. He couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest, the possessive part of him thrilled at the notion of you burying yourself in his scent.

He supposed he should be happy you were asleep. Omegas tended to be self-conscious about their nest, which was why he was surprised you agreed to let him take you here so easily. The idea that you felt comfortable enough to let him in here without a fight brought forth a feeling in his gut that felt suspiciously like butterflies.

Easing off the shoes he’d never had the chance to remove at the front door, he brought you both down into the bed, careful not to jostle your form. He laid you down together, your body atop his, heart melting at your tiny noise of content.

He had to bite back a moan when you nuzzled further into his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.

Get it together, Jimin.

He didn’t know if he would ever be relaxed enough to sleep when you were on top of him already smelling like every sinful desire he’s ever had. His cock shouldn’t have been stirring when you looked so innocent, your hands curled up ever-so-slightly under his shirt. And despite everything in his mind telling him that he would regret this, his entire body was screaming in anticipation for this entire weekend.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’s helped an omega through their heat, but everything was different because this was you. Someone he cared about, someone he loved, and he knew you loved him too, whether it was in the way he wanted or not. Heat flared in him at the thought of you wet and desperate only for him, begging to be filled. He knew you’d be out of your mind with lust, and even before seeing it he knew it would be the most beautiful sight he’s ever set eyes upon.

Get a hold of yourself, Jimin.

It was absolutely no use to contemplate these things now, especially not when the scent of his arousal might wake you up and set you off prematurely. You both needed rest – he’d be damned if he didn’t make this the best heat you’d ever had just because he was tired.

And so he wrapped his arms around your middle, willing arousal from his brain and replacing it with thoughts of sleep. Luckily, his body must have been able to sense his need for rest before the upcoming days, and sleep found him easier than anticipated.

--

You awoke to your back hitting your mattress, the first thing you noticed being that your body felt like it was being burned alive. But when you inhaled, the scent of pure alpha overtook all thought, brain incapable of anything other than unadulterated need, arousal shooting to your core almost instantaneously.

When your eyes shot open, fire lit within you when they immediately locked onto Jimin’s dark gaze, his body hovering over yours like he was about to pounce. When he took in the neediness in your eyes, his lip upturned in a salacious smirk, stare burning holes into you.

“Rise and shine, little wolf,” he drawled, hands locking onto your ankles and dragging you down the bed until your face was right below his.

You shivered despite yourself at the predatory expression on his face, holding back the whine that threatened to escape. You felt incapable of speaking, every intake of breath only fogging your mind further, the fire in you becoming so potent it was painful.

You couldn’t help the keening whimper that escaped when he roughly fisted a hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, yanking until your entire neck was on display. You gasped and arched into his body with want as he leaned in to inhale deeply right above your collarbone. The feral growl he let out at your scent had you shuddering, trembling hands trying desperately to pull him closer, but he didn’t relent.

“Please,” you begged, shoving your body upwards as much as possible, desperate to feel his body against your own. At the feeling of his canines brushing against the skin of your neck gently, you felt new wetness rush from you. Your desperation was only growing exponentially with every passing moment, and it felt like if you didn’t get touched soon, you would surely die.

“You smell so fucking good,” he snarled, voice raspier than you’d ever heard it before. He sounded almost pained, and it only set you off further. Everything in you ached for his touch, your cunt clenching around nothing despite Jimin not even having touched you yet. You needed it – needed to be touched, you needed him to quell the ache.

“Hurts,” you gasped out, still trying and failing to grind against his body above you.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry,” he cooed, pressing his free palm down onto your clothed centre. His breath hitched as you started forcefully grinding against it immediately, a choked whine slipping from your lips at the sudden pressure right where you needed it most.

“Alpha...” you moaned, rutting shamelessly against his hand as you pushed further against the hand in your hair, baring more of the soft expanse of your neck. Your eyes shut as pleasure rocked your system, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, his cock in your drenched cunt, his nails raking down your body as he utterly ravished you. You whined loudly at the thought, arousal slipping from you. It was clear he noticed when he hissed.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re dripping, so fucking desperate,” he panted, somehow sounding almost as ruined as you. “I’m gonna fuck this cunt senseless, fill you up so good you’ll never ask for anyone else again. Do you want that, little omega? Want me to make you mine?”

Any other time you might have questioned his possessive words, but any rational part of your brain was long gone. No, all that existed was you, Jimin, and your excruciating need to be filled.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried, whimpering at the imagery he put in your head. You wanted nothing more than to be his bitch, to take his cock and his seed and his knot. “Fuck me, please.”

“You beg so nicely,” he breathed, and you keened at the praise. You gasped as he sat back and quite literally ripped the shirt from your body, following suit with the rest of your clothes. You didn’t have it in you to complain, not when he was yanking your legs apart, gaze laser-focused onto your centre. “Don't worry, baby, your alpha is gonna take care of you, okay?”

You only nodded furiously, hips bucking upward suddenly as Jimin wasted no more time, two fingers smearing through your heat before thrusting abruptly into you. You finally felt some sort of relief at being filled, but it wasn’t enough. The stretch wasn’t satisfying enough, and your desire for more only amplified. But it seemed he knew this, adding another finger wordlessly.

“God, this cunt is so fucking hungry for me,” he growled, pistoning his fingers in and out roughly before grinding the heel of his hand into your clit.

You cried out as pleasure reared on you embarrassingly quickly, but no part of you wanted to cum without his cock inside you, dragging against your sensitive walls.

“Jimin...” you moaned, arching your back as you sought to push yourself closer to the source of your pleasure. He almost groaned at the sound of his name coming so wantonly from your lips. “Want you, please.”

“Yeah? You want to get stuffed?”

The garbled response you gave was nowhere near coherent, but it didn’t take a genius to see what you wanted. When he gave a low chuckle and pulled himself from his sweatpants, you started salivating immediately. He was girthy, vein visibly spanning the underside beneath his hand as he palmed himself. The head looked almost purple, the tip leaking. You needed it inside you.

Before you even realized it yourself, you were turning over onto your front. By the time you’d planted your face down, ass up, Jimin was already growling, roughly digging his fingers into your asscheeks. As several more seconds went by without his cock in you, you arched your back further, whining as he only dug his fingertips in harder.

“Such a good little wolf,” he crooned, hissing when your arousal dripped from your pussy to the bed. “Getting yourself so nice and ready for me. You need cock that badly? Can’t wait for it?”

You could have cried when you finally felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, but you didn’t have time to do or say anything before he shoved all the way in to the hilt without warning.

You must have screamed then, but you hardly noticed anything apart from the way he set a quick pace, hardly noticed when the tears left your eyes, body swimming in relief and euphoria. Every snap of his hips brought forth a moan from your lips, fingers digging helplessly into the sheets by your head.

“Tell me how it feels,” he snarled, moving to hold your hips up when the overwhelming pleasure left you unable to do it yourself.

It was all you could do to whimper, body feeling as though it was in the clouds as your walls clamped down on Jimin’s cock. He was stretching you so well, the slight burn nothing compared to the waves of pleasure he was sending through your entire being. You took a breath to respond to him once you registered what he said, but when his cock brushed against that spot inside you, it only left you as a choked moan.

“This needy cunt just sucks me right in, huh?” he groaned when your walls clenched down on him again, as though to trap him inside you. But it made no difference to him, his thrusts only continuing, fast and precise as your walls fluttered around him, whines falling from your lips. Recalling how responsive you’d been to praise earlier, he kept talking. “Doing such a good job for me, baby,” he hummed, smirking when he felt the shuddering of your body beneath his hands. “So fucking perfect for me, taking this cock so well.”

His words shot through you like fire, and combined with the drag of him inside you, you were propelled toward your end.

“Alpha...” you whimpered, pushing back onto his cock, a particularly rough thrust pulling a shout from your lips. You were so close to slipping over the edge, the squeezing of your walls around him more and more insistent as you approached your end. “Please.” It was as though no other words existed in your vocabulary, but Jimin could read you perfectly well, as though he was made for you.

“What’s that, hm? Baby’s gonna cum?” he taunted before reaching around to rub at your clit. “Let go then, milk my cock. I want to hear you.”

The added stimulation was more than enough to propel you into your orgasm, your mouth agape as your walls clamped down on his cock. You distantly registered Jimin’s moans from above you as he held you up and fucked you through your it, the sparks of pleasure never-ending.

But while his thrusts became less harsh, they did not lower in their intensity whatsoever. And as the fog in your head receded some from your orgasm, you only felt that much more sensation as you regained your bearings.

Rather than a mindless slave to pleasure and want, with your brain partly yours again you could truly feel. Feel the cotton of the sheets where they were clenched between your fists, feel the slight strain in your knees as they dug into the mattress, feel Jimin’s fingers anchored onto your hips, as though you would float away if he let go.

You could truly feel every drag of his cock against you, every grind, and when he perfectly maneuvered to hit against your g-spot, you were left breathless once again.

But with your increased coherence, your body craved more than just cock – you wanted closeness, wanted Jimin’s body against your own, his groans in your ear, his chest against your back.

“Jimin,” you called out, voice needy but noticeably more present.

His thrusts slowed but didn’t stop. “Hm?”

Rather than attempt to formulate an answer, you blindly reached a hand in his direction and made a grabbing motion. It was accompanied by your best impression of some sort of demanding noise, but you sounded like a spoiled brat even to your own ears.

He clearly didn’t mind though, huffing a laugh at your antics before coming down to your level, pressing some of his weight into your back as he nuzzled your neck.

“This what you want, baby?” he asked, wrapping his arms snugly around your middle. It would almost be cute, if not for the snap of his hips he opted to punctuate his question with.

You could only shiver and take it as he set a slow but intense pace, his cock slowly dragging out of you before he thrusted forward quickly in one single motion. But even in its intensity it was intimate, his lips tracing nonsensical patterns into the skin of your shoulder, his moans increasing in volume as you whined your pleasure.

His pace slowly but surely built you back up toward a second release, Jimin’s thrusts growing faster as he approached his own end. It wasn’t long before your moans were increasing in volume again, hips squirming beneath Jimin’s as that pressure in your abdomen only built and built.

“Gonna cum for me again, little wolf?” he growled directly into your ear, digging his fingers in close to your scalp and pulling your face up out of the sheets. No longer muffled, your moans were loud and unabashed, your pleasure surrendered entirely to him.

“I’m gonna fill this cunt up, gonna stretch you wide, is that what you want?”

As much as you were more coherent than last time, the effect his voice had on you was visceral, eyelids fluttering shut and goosebumps raising on your skin. When you only nodded with what little movement you could make within his grasp, he growled.

“Answer me!”

“Yes, yes!” you pleaded, eager to please. “Want you to fill me up, Jimin, please.”

“Such a good girl,” he moaned in response, moving to suck bruises into your neck. The thought of being marked by him for all to see only lit a new fire within you.

But when you felt the press of his canines brushing against the sensitive part of your neck, it was as though something in you snapped. You almost squealed as the orgasm rained down on you unexpectedly, something resembling ‘Jimin’ spilling from your lips, though you paid it no mind.

You were so lost in your pleasure you hardly noticed Jimin’s gruff yell from above you as he came, only registering it as his knot started to stretch you.

He shushed you gently as you whined, warmth still spilling into you as it finished inflating. Panting breathlessly against your back, he softly cupped your face as you caught your breath.

The stretch was more overwhelming than painful, every tiny movement seeming to shift his knot inside you enough to make you gasp. You should have grown used to the feeling by this point in your life, but it managed to catch you off guard every single time. You never felt ready for the immense stretch or the soreness that lingered between waves of your heat.

After several minutes of silence, breaths finally quieting, he spoke up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands reaching to keep you from squirming too much under him, knowing you’d only make the discomfort worse. “Relax for me.”

You nodded in response, letting yourself release the tension from your limbs as he continued to gently nose at your neck. His scent washed over you, but in this brief limbo between waves of your heat it spurred only calmness rather than arousal.

For you, at least, the first wave was always the worst in terms of self-control and mindedness. That was why it was essential for omegas to share their heat only with someone they could trust – if not a partner, then a friend. While omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable during pre-heat, they were at their most physically vulnerable during the heat itself. In theory, Jimin could have done whatever he wanted, and you would have begged for it.

He hummed in approval when you went still beneath him, rolling the two of you onto your side so that you were no longer supporting his weight.

“Sleepy?” he inquired softly as he watched you stifle a yawn.

You only nodded again, reaching for Jimin’s hand to make him wrap it around you more snugly, pressing yourself as close to him as possible. You shivered as his knot shifted with your movement, though it didn’t ache as much as it did initially. You felt so full, his cock still half-hard within you, release still painting your walls with nowhere to go.

You let your eyes shut, soreness and exhaustion taking up residence temporarily before the next wave. As much as a heat could feel so intense it hurt, you found that the time between each wave was truly the most difficult. It was the time where every ounce of muscle pain and sleep deprivation hit you, but it was also the time where, to put it simply, if you didn’t recharge you were fucked.

Heats were strenuous on the body, and it unfortunately wasn’t abnormal for omegas to be brought to the emergency room from dehydration and malnutrition from their heat. That was why the medical professionals tended to encourage of-age omegas to spend their heats with a trusted partner – it was just safer altogether. It was difficult to push past the fog of exhaustion to take care of yourself when you were on your own, though not impossible.

A tiny whine was the only acknowledgment you gave when you felt his knot go down enough to slip from you. You made a noise of complaint as Jimin pulled from your side, but he quickly returned to you, wiping away the mess that was now between your thighs.

“If I help you, can you sit up?”

After hearing your noise of affirmation, he pulled you up so that your back rested against the headboard, careful not to move you too quickly. But despite that, you couldn’t help the lightheaded feeling that came with the motion, reaching out to steady yourself on Jimin’s arm.

When he took in your rapid blinking and unfocused eyes, his concern grew exponentially. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Tired,” you mumbled, leaning into his touch when he moved to stroke your face.

“Let’s eat something and then we can nap, okay?”

“Mm.”

He moved away from you quickly to grab things from under your bed. One of the first things they taught omegas after presenting was that it was essential to keep a food and drink store in your room during your heat. One of the most important parts of pre-heat was not only securing a heat partner if desired, but also packing enough nutrient-rich food and drinks to last through your heat if you’re unable to leave the room.

You hadn’t realized you’d dozed off until Jimin’s hand on your shoulder startled you awake. He took your hand in his own only to wrap your fingers around an energy bar he’d opened for you.

“Eat,” he commanded, though the soft, caring tone characteristic of Jimin never left his voice.

The thought of putting in effort to do anything was unappealing, but once you started, you realized how famished you were. When you finished your first bar within moments, he handed you a second, eating some for himself at the same time.

He didn’t waste any time with handing you a Gatorade bottle once you were finished eating, ensuring you could hold it yourself before getting his own.

As much as he seemed to be in a rush, this was a better safe than sorry type of situation. While sometimes you could squeeze in some sleep between waves of your heat, it sometimes felt like one huge gamble in terms of time. You’ve had downtimes of as little as 10 minutes in the past, so you were grateful that he was hurrying you along.

When he noticed you stopped drinking, he grabbed it from you to place it on the nightstand a safe distance away from the bed.

“Do you want anything else?” he asked, shoving all of the garbage into a bag to deal with another time.

“You.”

He turned around quickly, thinking you were going into your next wave, but froze at the sight of you simply blinking up at him sleepily.

He bit down on his lip to suppress a fond smile when you reached for his hand, severely hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

He let you tug him forward, settling beside you in bed before pulling you securely into his side.

As much as you might have loved to talk or quietly cuddle, you were out like a light as soon as you laid your head down on his shoulder, face tucked securely into his neck.

--

The next two days went by in a blur. You never tended to remember very many specific moments from your heats besides that you felt good, and were definitely sore after. The combination of physical and mental exhaustion along with the mind-numbing desire didn’t seem to be conducive to proper brain function.

Fuck. Eat. Fuck. Eat. Nap. Rinse. Repeat.

“Kiss me,” you demanded, pulling Jimin down toward you by his shoulders.

From what you could tell, it was the last day of your heat, also making for the most coherent day. The consequences of not sating your heat on the last day were more uncomfortable than painful, and the sex almost resembled what it would any other day.

He obliged you easily, mouth meeting yours as he snapped his hips, filling you up and stretching you all in one stroke. He nipped at your lower lip as you moaned freely, arching your back to feel as much of his skin as possible.

You couldn’t help the increase in volume when he settled with his length in you, grinding his pubic bone into your clit. It seemed that Jimin was feeling similarly, both of you simply panting by each other's mouths rather than doing any sort of kissing like you’d intended.

It was only minutes before you felt the familiar tightening in your abdomen, Jimin groaning above you when he felt you clench around him. You whimpered as he sucked new bruises into the skin of your neck, a shiver making its way down your spine as he reached the soft skin below your ear.

But every part of you was screaming out for more.

“Mark me.”

Jimin froze instantly at your words, but it seemed that you weren’t properly considering the weight of your words, only urging him to continue his motions in search of your high.

A mark wasn’t permanent, but it was no small thing. More than a mark of “possession,” it was a mark of an alpha's care and loyalty, a mark of an omega’s trust. It was only something ever shared in serious relationships, and it would sometimes take partners years to reach that point.

“Jimin,” you whined when he ignored what you said. Every instinctive part of you wanted it so badly, your head subconsciously tipping back to give him easier access.

“No.”

“Jimin...”

“Don’t you know what you’re saying?”

“Please-”

“I said no,” he snarled, speeding up the snap of his hips enough that you were shifting up the bed. “Tomorrow, when this is all over,” he panted above you, teeth bared, “Then we’ll talk.”

He didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, continuously pulling himself from you fully before abruptly sheathing himself to the hilt once again.

You were left gasping for breath, swimming in sensation as your abdomen tightened, all else forgotten for the time being.

When he shifted to one side, a hand dropping to rub circles into your clit, you saw white. Your nails sharply dug into the skin of Jimin’s back where they were held, waves of pleasure battering you nonstop as he continued his thrusts.

But it was only moments later that he seated himself into you fully, warmth spilling into you as his knot inflated for the nth time since your heat began. It didn’t leave you gasping the same way as the first time, but a groan still wrenched itself from your throat at the sensation.

As soon as his body collapsed onto yours, you knew that your heat was finally over. The feeling was inexplicable, almost as though a weight had been lifted from the back of your mind.

You might have addressed the words uttered from your mouth only moments before if not for the debilitating fatigue that filled every limb and every square inch of your brain.

So, against your best judgment on any other day, you knocked right out.

--

When you next awoke, it wasn’t because desire ripped you from slumber, nor was it because your scent set off Jimin enough to wake you.

In fact, you were alone in your bed, immediately cringing at the sight of all the questionable stains dotting the sheets.

Good thing you had a mattress pad.

You sat up, wincing as every muscle screamed in protest. From your neck all the way to your fingertips, everything hurt. You’d probably be feeling this for days. It definitely didn’t help that the stench of sex was so strong you could feel a headache coming on.

You didn’t have time to ponder on Jimin’s whereabouts before he was coming back in through the doorway, half-dressed with water in hand.

He sent you a smile when you met eyes, but it was lost on you because as soon as he was here, every interaction over the past few days flooded your mind at once. And this time, there were no hormones to mask proper thought.

You asked – no, begged – him to stay. Even when he told you no.

You’d practically thrown a tantrum, what was wrong with you? Since when did your pre-heat make you throw respect out the window?

He wasn’t here because he wanted to stay, he was here because you forced him to. He was here because you were pathetic enough to get on the floor and beg him to stay, and Jimin, for the life of him, didn’t know how to say no to people. How could he look at you right now?

“Y/N?” he called, sounding puzzled. He must be able to smell your rising distress coming off you in waves, but you paid him no mind as you continued to recall the past few days, hating yourself more and more with every passing second.

You’d basically forced him to stay with you and fuck you for nearly four days without ever talking about it before.

It was more difficult to put together the pieces of what happened in your heat, memories mostly a blur of pleasure and then sleep.

But-

Fuck.

“Mark me.”

Your blood ran cold instantly.

Were you fucking insane? You dug your fingernails into your palms harshly to check if you were dreaming. Unluckily for you, you weren’t.

Was there any coming back from this? You couldn’t blame him if he could never look at you the same, if he never spoke to you again. Who would tell their heat partner – the first time they spent a heat together – to mark them?

It didn’t matter that you’d known each other since before you were even forming proper memories. It didn’t matter, because that wasn’t how this worked. You didn’t just ask your friends to mark you, no matter how much you loved each other.

A mark was something you shared with someone you intended to be lifelong partners with. Someone you’d dedicate your life to, someone you might want to have kids with someday.

God, what was wrong with you?

You didn’t notice his approach until a hand met your shoulder, too engrossed in staring at the floor as thoughts whirred in your head.

“What is it?” he asked, concern quickly turning into panic at finding you in this state with no explanation.

But it was as though with one touch, the floodgates broke, and angry tears started spilling from your eyes. Tears that had nothing to do with Jimin and everything to do with yourself.

He jumped back slightly in surprise, and you didn’t give him the chance to touch you again before you were furiously wiping the wetness from your face.

“God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he questioned frantically, hands returning to your shoulders as he angled his face to try to meet yours, but you only kept turning your head to avoid him. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself, whether to join you on the bed or continue hovering awkwardly from the bedside. “Talk to me, please-”

“Do you hate me?” you choked out, eyes fixed on a random, insignificant spot on the sheets.

That seemed to quiet him instantly. “Huh?”

“I forced you here,” you whispered, though it seemed that the words didn’t want to stop once they started, volume only rising as you carried on. “You came here to be nice and then you tried to leave and I didn’t let you. You said no so many times and I begged you to stay until you couldn’t say no anymore! I don’t even know what I was thinking, I guess I wasn’t thinking at all-”

“Hey-”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how you must think of me right now but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was disgusting, I think I’m disgusting, god-”

“Hey, look at me,” he urged, prodding lightly at your chin until you raised your head enough to meet his gaze. When he saw your red eyes and miserable expression, it was as though a piece of himself broke. “I stayed because I wanted to.”

“You didn't, I remember you told me no, you ‘wanted to’ because I made you.”

“It’s not like that,” he replied, expression almost pained.

“Don’t lie to me to make me feel better,” you snarled, though it came off more broken than aggressive. “Stop trying to protect me, tell me when you’re mad at me!”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Jimin-”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

The sudden question was enough to give you pause. “You know I do.”

He took a moment to settle onto the bed beside you, stretching out an arm to invite you in to lay with him. After only a moment of hesitation, you did.

“Then trust me when I say I wanted to stay,” he said firmly, stroking calming circles into your side. “You know I don’t like lying to you.”

It was true, he didn’t. Which summoned the question – if he wanted to stay, why did he refuse so many times? Were you sure he wasn’t lying now?

No – that wasn’t Jimin. Plus, you knew him so well that you doubted he would lie to you about something this serious, not when he was such an open book. But you didn’t have long to think about it before he piped up again.

“You asked me something yesterday,” he started, and you could hear in his tone that he was treading carefully.

You tensed up immediately when you processed his words, breath quickening as you anticipated what he was about to say. Was this the part where he told you he’s not mad he stayed, but he never wanted to speak to you again? You’d relaxed enough in the past few minutes that you’d almost forgotten about what you’d said yesterday. Almost.

“Why?” he asked simply.

Why. An obscenely loaded question contained within one 3-letter word. And yet, an answer wasn’t so easy.

“I don’t know,” you stalled.

“Don’t do that,” he scolded. “Really think. I know you, and I know you’d never be that nonchalant about a mark, ever. What changed?”

“Nothing changed!”

He only turned to give you a disapproving look before leaning his head back against the headboard and shutting his eyes. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make any more conversation until you properly pondered his question and gave him a real answer.

Why?

Did you even know why?

You wished you could say it just slipped out, that there was no other reason.

Maybe any other time you’ve said something questionable or downright stupid that would fly, but not for something like this.

Even at their drunkest, people didn’t ask their friends to marry them with the full intent of following through and starting life as an actual married couple.

Just the same, an omega doesn’t just ask a friend to mark them, mate them, not even in heat. Omega heats made it a fairly common occurrence to fuck your friends (at least, a select few) while unmarked, and it wasn’t as though the desire to be marked stemmed from a heat. If it were, platonic marking would be a thing already. And sure, marking made sex feel better, but heats were sexual, and marks were... more.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? There was no easy excuse, no escaping this.

One might say an omega was a slave to instinct in their heat, but instinct didn’t come from nowhere.

The instinct to nest came from the pursuit of safety in a vulnerable time. The instinct to ‘hibernate’ came from the need to save up energy for a heat. The instinct to scent came from the desire for intimacy and comfort. The instinct to fuck came from hormonal cycles and the body’s inherent goal to breed.

The instinct to be marked as an omega? To ask for it?

The need for emotional security, to know that your feelings were returned – attraction, desire, love.

Love?

If your love for Jimin was supposed to be a secret, it wasn’t a very well-kept one. You talked every day since you were kids, knew each other's mannerisms so well you didn’t need words to communicate, gravitated toward each other in every group setting, cried together when you separated for university...

You loved him, without a doubt. It was obvious. But was it more than that? Was your body trying to tell you something that you didn’t even consider?

“I...” you started but immediately trailed off, limbs so tense you almost seemed ready to run away. This wasn’t a conversation you ever imagined could take place.

“Don’t be scared. You can tell me anything.” Were you imagining things, or did his tone sound almost... hopeful?

“I’ve never asked someone to mark me before this.”

He only hummed lowly in response. You knew that he knew this already, but it seemed that this time, he wouldn’t call you out for circling around the question.

“I’ve never met someone who I felt more for than you. Safe, comfortable, happy, loved.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “I love you a lot, you know?”

His breath hitched despite himself, even though he knew you didn’t mean what he wanted you to mean. “I know,” he replied, sounding almost disappointed.

“But...”

“But?” he responded, allowing that tiny thread of hope to wind around his heart one more time.

“But I don’t know what I’m feeling,” you finished, panic increasing exponentially by the end of your sentence, your body almost feeling as though it was trembling.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he rushed, bringing you closer to rub his cheek into your hair. Was it cruel of him to feel some sort of joy at your words when you were clearly scared and confused?

His scent washing over you helped calm you some, but even still, you couldn’t stop thinking. What were you feeling? Did you want something more than friendship, or was this entire situation just putting thoughts in your head? Sure, you were undeniably compatible sexually, and sure, you found him attractive, but did you want a relationship? A romantic one? But even then, how much would that really change? What did you want? Would Jimin be disgusted with you? Let you down easily? It would have to be the latter, right?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-”

“No,” you cut him off.

“Huh?”

“You should’ve. I can’t be stupid forever.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“I am stupid, what kind of person doesn’t know whether they...” Even despite knowing he could tell exactly what you were trying to say, the words wouldn’t come from your lips. Were you in denial? Embarrassed? Something else?

“Emotions don’t have to be straightforward.”

“I wish they were.”

He breathed a laugh at that. “Believe me, I know.”

“Jimin, be honest with me.”

“I’m always honest with you.”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, you have this friend. You’re very good friends – best friends even. You see each other as much as possible, all that. And she tells you one day she wants to talk.”

“Oh? What’s her name?”

“Uhhhhh...” you paused, pulling out the first name that came to mind. “Susan.”

He choked back a laugh, though you could still feel his chest bouncing beneath your head. “My friend Susan. Okay, go on.”

“And she tells you that something happened, and it spurred this huge train of thought that had never occurred to her before. Something that made her think about your entire relationship as friends, and made her think about herself.”

“Uh huh...”

“And she had to wonder, how much of her heart was invested in this relationship? That answer was easy – all of it. But what really had her confused was what parts of her heart were in it.”

You fidgeted nervously, but instead of saying something, Jimin only reached for one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together.

“But what really scared her the most was – how would you react? What happens when your best friend tells you that maybe your love for them extends beyond friendship?”

You took several deep breaths, trying to muster up the courage to finish the ‘story’ you’ve started. There was no backing out of this now. Your hand squeezed his hard enough that it must have hurt him, though he didn’t seem to mind.

“If she told you she thought she loved you as more than a friend, how would you respond?” you asked, trying to inject as much nonchalance into your voice as possible and failing miserably. You could feel your palms getting sweatier, and you thought your teeth might chew straight through your bottom lip. You held your breath once you heard Jimin take one of his own, preparing mentally for whatever was about to leave his lips.

“I would tell her I love her back.”

It was as though time stopped. “You... you what?”

Unwilling to let you hide your face anymore, he pulled you over so that you were straddling him, your heart filling when your eyes met his, full of honesty and understanding and... love.

“I would tell her I love her back. That if she wanted me, I was hers.”

Your eyes searched his face desperately for several seconds longer, waiting for the moment this bliss would break, the moment he took his words back, left you heartbroken before you’d even properly processed that it was his to break. But that moment never came.

“Really?” you whispered, eyes wide and screaming with vulnerability, but also wonder. The petty part of him wished he could fault you for being so oblivious, but it wasn’t your fault that you two had simply never outgrown the innocent intimacy from childhood, even after presenting.

“Really.”

“I do want it. You. I want to try. If you can be patient with me.”

“Okay. Give me a chance and I’ll make you fall in love with me for sure.”

“Oh.” As hard as you tried to purse your lips, the smile still broke its way through, eyes crinkling happily as every insecurity felt like it left at once. Was it this easy? Could happiness come so quickly in a moment, just like that?

“Oh,” he replied simply, beam splitting his face at your barely-contained joy, your expression so innocent even after all that happened the past few days.

“Oh,” you repeated, though this time the word undoubtedly seemed to harbour more weight, brows furrowing.

“Hm?”

“That’s why you said no, isn’t it? The reason you wanted to stay but tried to leave?”

The sad smile that spread across his face at that was all the answer you needed, the briefly-forgotten guilt coming back instantly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he assured, pulling you close enough that your bodies were plastered together. “It all worked out anyway, right?”

You nodded, relaxing in his arms. If your brain wasn’t going a mile a minute right now, you were so comfortable you could’ve slept like this.

You allowed yourself several minutes to simply lay in his arms, that familiar blueberry-pine scent making you heart feel lighter and lighter.

“So,” you mumbled.

“So.”

“What changes now?”

“What do you want to change?” he replied.

“I asked first.”

He chuckled lightly. “Fine. Well...” You leaned back in confusion when he started pushing you up and off of him. “I think being able to do this is a good change.”

He leaned his face into yours, giving you a moment to back away before gently pressing his plush lips to yours.

You’d kissed already in your heat – you remembered that much. But this wasn’t a kiss that demanded your surrender, nor was it fast, or rough. It was just soft, intimate – because sometimes, emotions were easier said through actions rather than words.

You slid your hands into his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp as you deepened the kiss. His hands traced nonsensical patterns into the skin of your back, holding you close as though you’d ever want to leave. It was so easy to get lost in him, in the way he held you, touched you, kissed you, as though you were something to be cherished.

It wasn’t long before the kiss started to get more heated, though, and you couldn’t help yourself from nipping at his bottom lip. He made a low noise in response, a hand moving to grip your ass as the other winded its way into your hair.

It was when his hand made contact with your bare ass that you remembered that you were naked throughout this entire ordeal. And just as you processed that, his hand started inching its way slowly but surely between your legs.

“I think the fuck not, Park Jimin,” you gasped, breaking the kiss and throwing his hand from your body.

He burst into bright laughter at your words, eyes forming crescents that would make any person’s day better. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t hold back the giggles at the sound of him.

“How sore are you?” he questioned, tiny giggles still escaping him. You thought you detected a hint of concern somewhere in there, but you couldn’t blame him for being in an obscenely good mood.

“Ugh. Are you not sore at all?”

“Not really? Mostly hungry, I guess.”

“I hate you. It feels like all of my limbs want to detach from their sockets, and don’t even get me started on what it feels like between my legs. You and your dick can go die.”

Your words only set off another round of laughter from him, his grin wide as he took in your fake pout.

“Are you sure you want that? You seemed to enjoy it from where I was standing. You’re sending me mixed signals here,” he teased.

You let out a childish noise of complaint. God, was this what you were getting yourself into? You were already used to his antics by now, but now you had to deal with them while he flirted too? Someone send help.

“Pity me a bit,” you whined, giving him the best wide-eyed pout you could muster. Though, it only seemed to raise his mood even more.

“I’m sorry I broke you,” he said.

You smacked him a bit harder than you would normally. “Jiminnnnnnnnn,” you said, stringing out the word for as long as a breath would allow.

“If I made you food, would you forgive me?”

“...I’m listening.”

“What if I said I already made you food?”

“What?!” you perked up, any grudge you might have held disappearing in an instant. “What did you make?”

“Lay down and find out in 5 minutes, I’m tired,” he responded, laying down comfortably and encouraging you to do the same. You didn’t require much convincing, cuddling back into his side. This position wasn’t anything abnormal for you two, but it felt different now. Newer, more intimate.

Needless to say, 5 minutes turned into 2 hours after you’d both fell asleep.

But when Jimin placed a bowl of re-heated stir-fry in front of you 2 hours later, you would say he secured his place as fully, unequivocally yours.

[princesspumpkinseed]

Hi, I was shocked when I woke up this morning to see a fair few notes on my last post. It’s truly quite humbling since clearly this is just a little blog diary, yet I watch vlogs and read posts of people who also talk about their days, diet and study - these make me feel inspired so maybe I’m giving someone else the same contentment. Beautiful.

To speak of today, the weather has been toasty recently and this morning has been the first time that it has been warm enough to air out my room while I have my morning coffee. The fresh morning air in my lungs was a comforting yet invigorating sensation. The first image posted above is actually inaccurate : I did that pilates session with Sanne Vloet yesterday morning and this morning I had a tight hip flexor so I instead followed her stretching/ foam roller video. I had the same double espresso and microwaved soya milk, though :) After this, I revelled in the glory of a hot shower and it was even warm enough to walk barefoot from the bathroom to my bedroom and to feel the carpet under my toes and then to wear a cute little crop top with high waisted leggings and wedged boots. A good outfit can make you feel powerful.

As we approach the end of semester, I feel good in classes when I can help anyone to understand, so I had a lot of fun this morning giving tiny vague hints to three amigos in mathematical peril.

Before Functional Analysis and after a short bit of homework, I treated myself to a ‘Mermaid’ matcha (which has an aqua-marine colour and a slight flavour of white chocolate) with a splash of coconut milk. This certainly contributed to my feelings of complete happiness in the class. I felt comfortable and curious and even managed to have a bit of a giggle with the teacher.

I had a short lunch which consisted of my second slice of sourdough today (but this is simply so good) with some scrambled eggs and a salad but I got myself to the library as soon as possible after that. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as efficient as I’d hoped to be with my logic problems sheet.

I then had work and I was working with a lovely, chatty girl who I clicked with immediately. We were giving a presentation to prospective students so I think that fact that we could make this into an easy conversation improved the authenticity of what we were saying.

Returning home, I was hungry rather early but I rejoiced in this and made some basa with tomatoes, green beans, guacamole, and couscous. I then had a lean protein cookie right afterwards and I am currently sipping on a light chocolate ovaltine so don’t let my photography (or lack thereof) fool you.

I got a fair amount done this evening, including the necessary laundry, but I just hope to get the last bits from today finished efficiently tomorrow morning so I can get on to other pressing matters.

One thing to look forward to is a mental health forest walk which I booked with my friend for after exams.

A good night to you!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update

hey gang? hey guys? what the hell happened to March? it feels like it's been forever since I posted my February reading, but also I swear to god March just started yesterday. what happened here? if I didn't have a pretty significant list of books that I read this last month, I don't know if I'd believe it even happened.

but it did, so we've got some reading to recap.

one thing to note this month that I thought was pretty fun: I had nine days off of work because of spring break, so during that time I checked out the five shortest books on my TBR - all of them were under 200 pages, and made for quick reads while I had more free time than I knew what to do with. on the list below, that's everything from The Laws of the Skies to In the Watchful City. I also finally read the book that won my first reading poll, Station Eleven!

without further ado...

Long Division (Kiese Laymon, 2014) - Laymon's memoir, Heavy, is a work of art that left me feeling all bruised up inside, so I was really excited to finally get around to reading his first novel. and then I was disappointed in myself, because I just... do not think I'm smart enough to understand what was going on here. Long Division is a story within a story within a story, about two boys with the same name living in different years who both find authorless books called Long Division - each of which tells the City reading it the story of the other. there are a lot of fascinating ideas about respectability politics, tokenization, Black masculinity, and sexuality happening here, as well as some top notch time travel tropes at play, but ultimately I am very confident that I have absolutely no ability to explain what actually happened in this book. if you enjoy a mindscrew then PLEASE, check this out and give me Long Division for dummies.

The Laws of the Skies (Grégoire Courtois, trans. Rhonda Mullins 2019) - the first of my spring break short reads, and oh boy was it a doozy. the story begins with a small class of French six year olds embarking on a weekend camping trip with their teacher, and one glance at the blood-spattered cover should tell you that absolutely nothing good will come of it. spoiler alert: fifteen people go into the woods, and by the end of the book sixteen people have died - that's right, this field trip is so lethal that they managed to take out someone who wasn't even on it! the prose is kind of lovely, which is a shame since it's mostly dedicated to describing very small children dying in heinous ways. I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't pretty consistently entertained and even amused by the drama and irony the story presents, but I also can't say I'd recommend it to anyone based on everything about the subject matter. Courtois also occasionally wanders into pseudo-philosophical musings about the nature of youth and innocence, which I can do without. not everything needs to be profound; sometimes it's fine to just say [spoilers] "what if a six year old bashed his teacher's skull in with a rock? would that be fucked up or what?"

Walking on Cowrie Shells (Nana Nkweti, 2021) - gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous cool little short story collection, infused start to finish with Cameroonian sensibilities and culture. I often struggle with short stories - as a reader and even more so as a writer - that lack any kind of twist into the supernatural or fantastical, because it can be difficult to feel that there are any real stakes in a story about people just being people. Nana Nkweti blew all those issues out of the water. she has a tremendous talent for painting snapshots with her prose, catching her subjects and holding them up for examination to entertaining that I forgot to hold my breath waiting for a reveal. while there are stories with supernatural elements in this collection, I found that my favorites were surprisingly mundane - Night Becomes Us, which offers a slice of life following an immigrant woman's night working as a nightclub bathroom attendant, and The Statistician's Wife, a tense reflection on the high rates of African women murdered by their partners.

Flowers for the Sea (Zin E. Rocklyn, 2021) - the shortest of the bunch, but absolutely jam packed with terrors: climate disaster, beasts from the sea, the slick body horror of pregnancy, old familiar fears of being a reviled Other among people who want to see you dead. no spoilers, but I do love short stories about people deciding that they're tired of being nice and want to go ape shit.

The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (Mariana Enriquez, trans. Megan McDowell 2019) - CREEPY!!! creepy creepy creepy short stories and I LOVED them! this is one of those excellent collections where every story felt like it could be taking place in the same world, a world filled with the hungry ghosts of miserable women and cast-off children haunting those who remain. it's impossible for me to pick any particular favorites when each story seems to interwoven with every other; literally all I can say is that this story collection made me immediately want to run out and find every other translated piece of Enriquez's work that I can get my hands on.

In the Watchful City (S. Qiouyi Lu, 2021) - this was the last of my spring break short reads, and I'm devastated to announce that it was also my first DNF of the year. I was so excited for the premise - a living city! stories nested within stories! magic cyberpunk! - and then I just... couldn't click with it. after the first of the nested stories left me feeling absolutely lukewarm, I told myself that I'd read a few chapters of Station Eleven, and if I liked that more I would move on and give up on Watchful City. how did that go? well...

Station Eleven (Emily St. John Mandel, 2014) - reader, I stayed up late to read 257 pages in one sitting because I simply couldn't put it down. (which was the final nail in the coffin for poor Watchful City, I'm afraid.) I do need to throw out a disclaimer that the inciting incident of Station Eleven is a majority of the world's population dying of an illness that spreads like wildfire and kills people within days, so if that's a little much for you right now, hey, I can't blame you. but it offers a thoughtful and layered examination of the world that comes after as well as the world that comes before, following the life of an actor who dies moments before the outbreak begins and a young actress who's part of a travelling Shakespeare troupe fifteen years after the world is permanently changed. it's a soft story about hard subjects, leaning hard into the importance of art and connection without ever getting preachy. I loved it a lot.

Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (Judith Butler, 1990) - fucking FINALLY. I feel like I've finally clambered up to the top of Everest, except without the tremendous amount of physical risk and environmental destruction and uncomfortable colonialist undertones of wanting to go "conquer" someone else's mountain in the first place. speaking of which - I really and truly loved how frequently JB reminds the reader that any presumption that there can be such a thing as a "universal female experience" is one that inherently flattens cultural difference in a patronizing imperialist manner. and oh boy, that's just ONE of the many perks of this book! it took me a while to figure out the flow of things, and I won't pretend a lot of the language isn't dense as all get out, but each chapter is basically structured as Butler laying out someone else's shittier, simplistic views of gender and then dissecting them with a philosophical scalpel, in a way that's very satisfying to read if you're a very specific kind petty academic queer. the thing that's really frustrating about this book isn't the big words, it's that Butler still has to make the same arguments about the fluidity of gender thirty years later.

Read My Lips: Sexual Subversions and the End of Gender (Riki Anne Wilchins, 1997) - this is one of those rare books that I picked up not because it was languishing on my TBR but because it threw itself in my path and I couldn't say no - in this case because my friend AJ stole it from a campus book sale and promptly began passing it around. I have a tremendous fondness for reading radical queer work written before my time (in this case, published when I was scarcely one year old); there's something so heartening about seeing through the layers of generational difference and shifting language preference to find the exact same beating heart of resistance and solidarity. also, it must needs be said that Wilchins is funny as hell - I would love to sit down with them IRL and pick their brain about the the 20+ years that have passed since this book.

the bingo sheet:

oofa doofa, still no bingo and it's getting harder and harder to find new spaces to cross off. but The Dangers of Smoking in Bed gave us ghosts aplenty, Wilchins and Butler satisfy the "published before 2010" and "published before 2000" spaces, and surely either The Laws of the Skies and/or Flowers for the Sea must fulfil the "novella" space.

maybe I'll find a spicy one word title so that I can get a double bingo for April?

(also - if anyone else wants to play along with book bingo you can get them in a variety of colors here! feel free to @ me, I love to see what other people are reading.)