#i guess overworking myself will keep me occupied though?

[alaskan-wallflower]

the only thing that’s gonna keep me from killing my self when the school year starts is the outsiders musical awaiting me

(excuse the rant in the tags 😭)

[cgarttrailsandtails]

Hehehe…

I got another fanfic. Cause I have literally nothing else to occupy my time qwq

Characters and warnings are in the tags.

I will post this on Ao3.

The story Basically wrote itself. (Full story under cut)

Mechanical destruction

Summary: How can you save what’s broken, when you can’t even fix yourself?

Chapter one

Solar

Solar was waiting in the atrium. He and Lunar were supposed to hang out today, after all. As usual though, Lunar was late. He was always either out training with the stars he talked about, or busy doing something with Earth. Solar had felt like a burden to do this hangout in the first place, just with how busy Lunar had gotten, but Earth had said that it wouldn’t be a problem and if Solar wanted to spend time with Lunar, he had to just do it. So here he was, waiting for Lunar to get here so they could go do something. Lunar suddenly came practically crashing through the entrance to the atrium. Out of his artificial breath, he said “sorry I’m late Solar, I was at training.”

“It’s fine.” Solar said in his usually tired sounding voice. “How long were you there this time? You look like you just came out of a washing machine.” Lunar did, too. He was dripping wet, banged up a little and looked exhausted.

“I’m fine, I think I went a little too hardcore with the thunderstorm though.”

“Thunderstorm-?” Solar pressed. He didn’t want to trouble Lunar if he didn’t wanna talk about it, of course, but he was curious, albeit a little concerned.

“Yeah. Castor wanted to see if I could summon a thunderstorm, so I did, and then he told me to try and stop it again.”

“And how’d that go for you?”

“Terrible. I zapped myself at least twice and actually ended up causing it to rain harder.” Lunar replied with a huff. “I didn’t actually get it to stop, but I was already running late here so Castor said I could go and he would handle it.”

“Okay…” Solar thought for a moment. “Are you still up for this…? Cause we can reschedule, you look like you need a nap or something.”

“No, it’s all good. Just gimmie a second to get my sensors back online…” Lunar shook himself with the strength of a wilted flower, trying (unsuccessfully) to get the water out of his ports.

“You need help with that-?” Solar asked, watching Lunar’s pitiful attempts at unclogging himself.

“Nope, I got it.” Lunar said, refusing help yet again, like he had done the past several times he obviously needed it.

“Yeah, you do. Come here.” Solar insisted. Lunar moved closer begrudgingly so Solar could get the water out. After being

un-waterlogged, he shook himself with much more ease.

“Thanks, I guess” Lunar murmured. Solar could tell he needed to be charged at least, training usually drained his battery, though he was trying not to let it show.

Standing back up, Solar inquired, “are you sure you don’t need to charge? Your training usually takes the battery straight out of you.”

“I’m fine, Solar.” Lunar replied, a bit harshly.

Something is definitely wrong. Solar thought. He never acts like this unless he’s been doing too much. Out loud, Solar voiced his concerns, never too afraid to speak for his friends’ wellbeing. “Lunar, I think you overworked yourself, you should go charge.” He suggested.

“How would you know what I should do?” Lunar snapped back. He obviously wasn’t very happy right now. Actually, when was he ever truly happy? Solar added in his head. Yet he pressed on.

“It’s not good to drain your battery so much and then not do anything about it Lunar, you should take a break-“

“AND WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT TAKING A BREAK!?” Lunar loudly interrupted. “YOU NEVER TAKE BREAKS OF YOUR OWN! YOU ALWAYS WORK UNLESS SOMEONE WANTS TO ACTUALLY HANG OUT WITH YOU, AND EVEN THEN YOU KEEP IT SHORT!” Lunar kept going, but Solar didn’t hear it. He didn’t want to hear it. But Lunar was right. He hadn’t taken a break of his own accord since back in his old universe, back when sun… his only friend there… had still been alive. He felt the urge to just leave, to walk away, but he didn’t want to seem like a bad friend… so he stayed till Lunar was done with his rant. He was brought back to reality when Lunar shouted at him. “SAY SOMETHING!”

He didn’t have anything to say. “I… I’m sorry, Lunar.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left. He went back to his room to just… do something. Anything, just to take his mind off of this. However, as he went, he thought, oh god. Lunar is right.

Chapter two

Lunar

He left. He actually just left. Lunar thought angrily. How could he just leave? After all that? He just walked away? Why!? Lunar stormed to the daycare, not caring about the tiny rain could that had accumulated over his head. I’m gonna find Earth.

He reached the daycare shortly after it had closed and all the kids had gone home. Earth looked over when he burst in unannounced. “Lunar? What’s wrong? you seem upset.” Earth asked. “Weren’t you supposed to hang out with Solar?”

“I was…” Lunar replied, the sass dripping from each word. “But he left.”

“He left? What happened? He wouldn’t just leave,” she said. “From what I know, he really wanted to hang out with you.”

“We had a fight.” Lunar told her, sitting down on the stupid donut that was always lying near the doors in the play area.

“Oh no!” She exclaimed. “What was it about? Maybe I can help you.” She said, sitting on the floor to be at least near Lunar’s level.

Lunar sighed. “He wanted to reschedule because I was supposedly ‘overworking’ myself.”

“Well that’s a pretty good reason, don’t you think? You are usually in need of a charge when you come back from your training.”

“Yeah, but… I really wanted to actually spend time with him. I only ever get to when we have him for a a video guest.”

“Did you tell him that?”

Lunar paused. Had he? “No…” he said after a while. He felt bad now. He had just yelled at Solar for nothing! “I… I yelled at him. I yelled at him when he was only trying to look out for me, Earth!” He said, distressed now.

“Well, if you did that, you should apologize to him.”

“Yeah I guess…” Lunar agreed.

“You should charge first though. It’s better to do it with a clear head so the same thing doesn’t end up happening.” Earth suggested. A nap did sound like a good idea.

“Alright.” Lunar said, getting off the donut. Earth helped him to plug in and gave him the donut, as he liked to sleep in it.

“Sleep well, Lunar.” She said before shutting off the lights.

“Bye Earth.”

“Goodbye.” And she left. Lunar’s last thought before sleep was a terrible idea. Am I a bad friend?

Chapter three

Solar

“YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SH*T! I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY, YOU SELFISH COPY!” Moon was screaming again.

“What did I do this time?” Solar asked, still done with Moon’s terrible temper.

“WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT DID YOU DO!? YOU KILLED MY BROTHER, THAT’S WHAT YOU DID!”

“You know very well it wasn’t my idea, Moon.” Solar explained, again. It felt like he had done this a hundred times already.

“I DON’T CARE! YOU SHOULD HAVE STOPPED HIM!”

“I couldn’t. It was his decision.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Moon growled. “You are the reason Sun is dying, and I can’t save him. I hope you get scrapped for parts you worthless animal.” Moon stormed away, undoubtedly going back to desperately trying to fix Sun. Finally, he’s gone. Solar thought. Moon’s rants were always like this. What had he done to deserve this? He had tried to stop Sun, but there was nothing he could do. It was Sun’s decision to separate them. Still, Solar couldn’t help but think about it. What if I just didn’t try hard enough? He thought. What if I had been able to convince Sun to not go through with it? Then, It should have been me.

Solar woke with a start. He sighed. “Ah. Just another nightmare.” He unplugged from the wall. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. He went over to his little “project” that he had been working on. It was a pretty useful thing, a device that could track and teleport people through other dimensions. It was, however, nowhere near done. Solar was still waiting on some parts, but he could get the wiring in place. So he set to work. Unbeknownst to him, there was a presence lurking in the shadows.

“Brother, we’ve finally made it. We can do it now!”

“Yes, strike and rip and tear! Watch as the blood seeps into the ground, I can just imagine how FUN this one will be…”

Pain. Solar felt it as someone grabbed him, immediately ripping some unimportant wire and breaking a few on his rays. Solar threw the perpetrator off of him and jumped up, seeing it was none other than Bloodmoon. “Why are you two out to get everyone!?” He exclaimed, ready for a fight now.

“Why not?” One of them replied. “We do love the blood.” They leaped forward again, going for another strike. Solar dived out of the way in the nick of time, leaving the twins to crash into the wall. It happened like that twice more, before the other twin spoke. “I’m tired of this cat and mouse! Stand still!”

“How about, no.” Solar replied, smirking. “Look, I don’t want to have to kill you, so how about you just leave now?”

“Never. This may be the only chance we get. Oh how we’ve wanted to see the life leave you, see the blood pour from your wounds!”

“Ooh. You’re gonna be disappointed then, when I send you to hell instead.” Solar shot back.

“Try if you can!” Bloodmoon taunted. They fought a while, Solar held his own for a long time without using his cannon. Eventually though, Bloodmoon was able to get Solar in a lock. He couldn’t move. “Oh how fun this will be…” Bloodmoon snarled as they ripped Solar apart. He struggled to free himself, but he could feel every rip, every tear that the twins were making on him. They broke his right eye, tore at his body, and ripped him apart, piece by piece. The oil flowed into Solar’s one good eye, making it nearly impossible to see. He wanted to scream, but he knew that was just what Bloodmoon wanted. So he bit it back, and after some twisting, he he aimed his cannon arm back at the twins.

“I-I warned y-you.” He said shortly. He pulled the trigger. The twins staggered back, away from Solar.

“Ugh. We will be back.” They growled as they ran away, dripping their own oil from the hole in their stomach. Solar didn’t care. At least they were gone now. Solar still couldn’t move though. His body had been severely damaged, and with that, he fell to the ground. He was dying, he knew. Yet instead of trying to call for help, his only thought was this. At least… at least I’ll get to see Sun again.

Chapter four

Lunar

Lunar was on his way to Solar’s workshop now, or the room he used as it. He had sufficiently charged, and knew he had to set this right. He still felt bad about all he said to Solar, and he understood he had to apologize. At the door, he paused. Ok, you can do this, just gotta go in and apologize, maybe explain stuff. He thought to himself. He took a deep breath, and opened the door, already speaking. “Hey Solar, I just wanted to apologize…” he trailed off when he saw the oil. He gasped when he laid eyes on the rest of the scene. Solar was on the ground, parts strewn everywhere. His right eye looked cracked, and there was oil everywhere. Some of his rays had been torn, and the rest were scrunched in, like Sun’s did when he got scared or annoyed.

“Who’s t-there…” Solar said. His voice box had been messed up, his voice dragging and distorted.

“It’s me.” Lunar replied tentatively. What had happened?

“I-I don’t know-w who you are…” Solar managed to say. “I-I can’t- see…” Lunar could tell why. There was oil dripping from his rays, covering the other eye.

“It’s me, Lunar” he repeated, moving closer. It was a terrible sight. Lunar felt the tears fall from his eyes, adding to the oil on the ground.

“O-oh.” Solar was obviously in pain, using his voice box probably didn’t help. But Lunar needed to hear his voice, needed to know he was still alive.

“I… I’m getting Moon!” Lunar said suddenly. “Hold on…” Lunar ran away, his artificial heart pounding. He called Moon as soon as he was out the door. “Cmon… pick up, pick up…” It rang for one more endless moment. After what felt to Lunar like forever, Moon answered.

“Hello?”

“Moon! You gotta come, Solar’s been hurt and-“

“Ah, gotcha. This is a voicemail. Just leave a message or something.”

“God dammit!” Lunar exclaimed, frustrated. I’ll try Sun. He thought. Moon’s more likely to answer him if they aren’t already together. The phone didn’t even get to finish ringing once when Sun picked up.

“Hey?”

“Alright so, Sun uh- wait. This isn’t another voicemail trick is it?” Lunar inquired.

“No? Why are you calling Lunar?”

“Ok good. So something happened and Solar got hurt really bad and he’s dying and I need help.” Lunar said in one breath.

“Uh. Um- uh… well, Lunar I think Moon would be the one to call in that case…”

“Yeah I tried that, and he didn’t pick up. I don’t have time to wait much longer, I…I’m scared.” He hated to admit it, but it was true. He was scared for Solar, and he felt bad. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I had spent the day with him like I was supposed to. He crushed the thought almost immediately, it wouldn’t help Solar to doubt his past actions right now.

“Well, uh. Do you want me to try and call him or-?”

“Yes! Please, or like add him to the call here or something.”

“Alright give me a moment.” Sun went silent on his end, but he hadn’t hung up. After a couple minutes that felt as long as years passed, Moon’s voice came over the end.

“What happened Lunar?”

Lunar took a deep breath. “So Solar got hurt really bad and he’s dying I think and it doesn’t look good and I’m going to strangle whoever did it but I really need help right now because I don’t know what to do!”

“Wow. Okay… repeat that for me one more time, but let’s try slower, okay Lunar?”

“Ugh. Solar got hurt bad, I think he’s dying, and I need help.”

“Oh god. where are you guys, I’m coming.” Moon replied hurriedly.

“We’re in the daycare, up in you guys’ old room that Solar now uses as a workshop.”

The call from Moon disconnected. Sun spoke next. “Is he coming? Should I come too?”

“Yes, and you can if you want to. I’m gonna hang up now though.”

“Okay, bye? I guess”

“Yeah bye” Lunar went back into the room. What he saw seemed worse than the first time. The amount of oil in the room was steadily increasing, Lunar felt helpless. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to be having fun with Solar today, not let him suffer like this.

“L-Lunar? Are you back in here-?” It pained Lunar to hear Solar speak. His distorted voice box just trying to still work. At least he’s still alive.

“Yeah. Who did this?” Lunar had to know. Because if Solar died, or even if he didn’t, Lunar was going to kill that f*cker if it was the last thing he did. He was going to tear them apart like they did to Solar.

“Bloødm-on” as distorted and cut out as the name was, Lunar could still understand it. Of course. Only Bloodmoon was bloodthirsty enough to do this. Bloodmoon will pay for this. Lunar was angry. At everybody. Except for Solar. When will Moon get here?

Chapter five

Solar

It hurt, yeah. But the only thing that hurt worse right now was the fact that he could sense Lunar there. Solar knew that if he died here, right now, like he oh so wanted to, he could never forgive himself. He wanted to die, wanted to just let go and be with his Sun in whatever afterlife there was for them. But he knew he couldn’t. Not here. Not now. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t give up. He just couldn’t leave Lunar and the others behind. So he bared the pain flowing through every unsevered wire in his body. He kept his hold on his life. He heard footsteps again, not Lunar’s though. Lunar was sitting right next to Solar, holding his hand, which was about the only part of him not broken and leaking oil. No, these sounded heavier, and with purpose. He heard as the door swung open and whoever it was spoke.

“Okay, What happened?” It was Moon.

“Bloodmoon attacked him.” Lunar said in reply.

“Move away please Lunar.” Solar felt Lunar leave his side. Moon then turned his attention towards Solar. “Can you stand? If we can, it’d be easier to get to parts and services.”

“I-I can’t eve-en møve” Wow, speaking hurt. A lot. My voice box must’ve been broken too. Solar thought.

“Hm.” Moon said nothing else. Solar felt him adjusting some things. “There we go.” Moon said, sitting back. Solar stayed quiet as Moon and Lunar helped him onto his feet. The weight of himself was nearly crushing. The rest happened in a blur, the walk to parts and service, the analysis of the damage done. He shut down for repairs. When he turned back on, about an hour later, he could at least see again. The oil was out of his left eye, though the right one still wasn’t working. “We’ll have to get you a new eye.” Moon explained when he saw Solar awake.

“Ooh everything still hurts.” Solar said with a grimace. At least his voice worked now.

“Yeah well, be glad you aren’t dead.” Moon said shortly. Solar observed the remaining damage he could see. The oil was cleaned off, though his cannon was offline and some parts were still missing. Pieces that wouldn’t stop dripping had been bandaged if not replaced. Solar took a second to feel his rays, he knew some had been broken. And a few were, but mostly they were okay. “Lunar is outside waiting anxiously with everyone else.”Moon told him. “You want help standing?” He asked as an afterthought.

“Um. I’ll be okay on my own, I think.” Solar replied. He tried standing then, and it was surprisingly easy. “Go ahead and bring them in here, but I don’t think I wanna try walking yet.” Solar said, aware his balance was kinda off. It made sense, as a part of his left leg was still missing, but still.

“Alright, I’ll tell them.” Moon said, leaving the room. Solar day back down. He was glad he wasn’t dead, but a part of him felt like it was. He couldn’t quite place his finger on the feeling. Lunar suddenly came bounding in first, rushing to ask questions. Heh. Solar thought. At least it wasn’t for nothing.

Chapter six

Lunar

He paced. Lunar paced and paced around. The others were all just talking amongst themselves, but Lunar couldn’t stay put. He was terrified for Moon to come out and say that Solar wasn’t okay. That Solar had died or been damaged beyond repair, and just forced to suffer until he did die. Lunar felt guilty, too. I should have been hanging out with him today. I could’ve protected him, I could have stopped this… Lunar’s thoughts were interrupted when Moon came out. He rushed over, waiting to hear SOMETHING. Oh how he wished to hear something, anything good. “He’s okay. Go on in, but how about one at a time so we don’t overwhelm him?” Moon suggested. “Who wants to go in fir-“ Lunar would hear no more. He bolted in through the door, just barely hearing Moon say “welp, I guess it’s Lunar’s turn first.” He had so many questions. Without noticing anything around him, he ran straight up to Solar and asked the millions of things in his mind.

“Are you feeling okay? Did Bloodmoon come back?” And tons of other questions flowed out before Solar interrupted him.

“Woah. Slow down Lunar.” How good it was to hear Solar’s tired voice again, all okay. Lunar finally calmed down and took notice of the leftover damage. Solar still had a few pieces missing; a part on his left leg, his right arm had a few broken parts, but otherwise that looked okay. Solar’s right eye was still broken, a few of his rays still chipped and torn. But overall, he looked fine. Definitely better than he did when Lunar first found him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lunar asked. That was the most important thing, after all.

“Yes, I’m okay.” Lunar sighed in relief. Alright, that’s one good thing. Lunar hopped up next to Solar. He didn’t want to leave him again. Lunar wrapped himself around Solar’s right arm and waited there as the others came in and talked with Solar. Earth, Sun, even Monty had come. Moon came back in after Monty, and as everyone was settling in other areas of parts and service, there came a polite knock at the doors. Moon answered.

“Ruin!?” Moon sounded surprised. Actually, he probably was.

“Erm, sorry if this is a bad time, I just came to see if Solar was alright-? I heard what happened and I uh… wanted to come make sure he was still alive, em.” Ruin said, sounding very uncomfortable.

“Uh. Okay? Come in I guess.” Moon said, letting Ruin into the room. Lunar had never actually met Ruin before, at least he didn’t think so. Not even with the virus thing that went on. Ruin was a pretty weird animatronic, he looked like a cross between Sun and Moon, just with a bit of a different style choice. And he sounded British.

“Hi, Ruin.” Solar said, sounding kinda surprised to see Ruin there.

“Hello, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Ruin stated, repeating what he said to Moon.

“Huh. I didn’t know you cared.”

“I do care about everyone here, even though I haven’t met some of you…” Ruin said, looking at Lunar and Earth. “I can of course leave if you wish me to, I uh…” Ruin trailed off.

“No, it’s fine.” Solar said. Everybody kinda agreed on that. So, Ruin stayed as they all got to talking about other things to lighten the mood, and they played some games and joked around, even in the somber situation. After a couple hours, everyone went to their respective areas or homes, and Lunar thought on his way back to his apartment. If I ever find Bloodmoon again, they will feel all the pain Solar felt and more. They will feel so much pain, they’ll WISH they were dead. But I won’t let that happen. I won’t let those f*ckers die so easily…

Chapter seven

Solar

Today was a little too eventful. Solar thought as he lay in the guest room at Sun and Moon’s house. They had wanted him to stay with them for a while because of what happened, and hey, he was fine with that. He didn’t really feel like getting nearly killed again, after all. He sighed as he lay on the mattress, thinking about all the things that had happened. Looking back on it, it was kinda stupid he didn’t immediately use the cannon. Oh well. He thought. At least he pulled through and made it out alive. In his old universe, after Sun died, he had no one to live for. No one who would care if he just… gave up. But that was the past. He had a new universe now, and a new family. He smiled to himself. He knew they cared. Even Ruin cared enough to make sure he was alright! And so, after a long and exhausting day, he fell asleep. And for once since he arrived in this universe, he didn’t have a nightmare.

Notes: I thank you for reading this, I spent literally a whole day on it ;-;. I’m actually surprised it didn’t take longer, but I’m happy with how it turned out. Again, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! And as always, have a wonderful day or night!

[neerdokells]

In With the Old, Part 4

“Bryce?” Portia called as I walked past the cabin. She walked down from the porch and approached me.

“Hey, Portia! It's…it's been a long time, how are you?”

“I'm good, I, uh, yeah. I'm good. What are you doing here?”

“Just traveling, you know, passing through, I guess. You?”

“I'm on a writing retreat. You remember how I had these ideas for books I wanted to write?”

“I do, yeah.”

“I started writing them! My husband, he's been very supportive. I have a couple published under a pen name so far, and I'm here for six months to get a clear start on a few more. Just arrived, actually,” she said, pointing to the open trunk on her car and the suitcase on the porch.

“Oh! Well, congratulations! I'm glad to hear that's working out. Is your…husband inside?”

“No, he, uh…well, it's just me. Solo trip, you know, wouldn't be much of a retreat if I brought my whole life with me, right?”

“Have you done this before?”

“Yeah. Never this long, though.”

“Right, right.” We both stood there for a long moment, each of us at different points taking a breath as if to say something, and then going back to silence. “I, well, I could help you carry stuff inside, if you want.”

“Yeah, would you? That would be great. I mean, not great, like…I would appreciate it.”

“Of course.” She led me over to the car, and we both started carrying things inside. She had clothes, of course, but also various activities to occupy her down time, some wood she bought in town for the stove that kept the cabin heated, and her writing supplies and books for inspiration or to keep up with her genre. By the time everything was inside, it was getting dark, and we were exhausted.

“Where are you staying?” she asked.

“I…don't know yet. I haven't really been planning this trip out.”

“That’s risky. Is there someone else traveling with you that you need to check in with?”

“No, I came alone.”

“I heard you were married. Is everything all right?”

“It’s…I'm not married, not anymore.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean–”

“It's okay. Really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don't think you'd believe me if I did.” We sat in silence for a little while, and then she turned to look toward the kitchen.

“I would offer you dinner, but I have to admit, I do not want to go cook something.”

“I could cook us something. It's been about a year since I've last cooked, but I'm sure I could make it work.”

“Really encouraging trust with that one.”

I chuckled and walked into the kitchen. One thing I'd learned in my travels is that this new body is much more durable than my old one. Even if I overwork it a bit, which is not easy to do, I bounce back pretty quick. So I had the energy to get to work. The problem was how little food she had to work with. I doubted she would notice if I added a little bit of material to the dish to round it out, being as tired as she was.

“I’m sorry, I just realized I hadn’t been to–” she said, suddenly stopping. I had just doubled the amount of potatoes in the strainer with a quick application of magic, and I turned sheepishly to find her staring around my arm. “–the store,” she whispered. “Did you…?”

���I, uh,” I turned to the strainer, then turned back and gave a weak smile. “I can explain?”

“Have you always been able to do that?”

“Well, no.”

“Then yes, please, explain.”

“I…” I turned to the food, “I’m trying to…you know what, yeah.” I waved my hand over the food, and it became a fully complete meal and moved to the table. I grabbed two plates and some silverware and indicated toward the table, and we both sat down.

“Is this food safe?”

“Yes.”

She gathered some onto her plate, then looked at me expectantly. I served myself some food, and then began to tell her the story. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to tell someone, anyone, what had happened, or how eager I was to be open with her, to tell her everything she had missed in the years we weren’t talking. But by the time I had told her about the genie and the wishes and my replacement, and answered her questions, and she told me about her life to date, and I told her about my life with Linda, the sky was growing light. We moved to the porch to watch the sunrise.

“So,” she said, finally, “your natural form now is some kind of fairy?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see?”

I changed form, the clothes I had created to wear as ‘Bryce’ becoming a loose dress of summer leaves. She stared at me for a moment.

“What’s with the cat stuff?”

“I don’t know.”

We both watched the sunrise, and then she turned to me again and extended a hand. I fluttered up and landed on her palm, and she raised me to her eye level. “You’re a girl, now?”

“I don’t think I really have a single gender anymore. I’m whatever I happen to be at the moment. Over the last year, I’ve kind of lost the sense of myself as specifically male or female.”

“But, in this form?”

“I…here.” I waved my hand and the dress disappeared. She looked more closely, then gasped.

“I see.” She bit her lip a little bit. “Can you…is it possible to look like this, but…bigger?”

“I can be anything. But if I scale this form up to human size, it seems to be about four foot, nine inches.”

“Show me.”

I flew down from her hand onto the porch, and grew to my human size. She looked me over, slowly panning her eyes over my whole body. For the first time in my life, I felt like something other than human, or fairy, or even animal. She had a hunger in her eyes, and I felt like prey. I found myself liking it.

She stood up, then, looking down at me. She was nearly as tall as I had been when I was Bryce, and the real difference between that height and my current height made me feel weak, fragile. Pliable. When we were in school, she was an athlete and a cheerleader. Back when we were together, I saw her as fit and trim, a sexy form in her tight volleyball shorts or small cheerleader outfit or writhing in my bed. She hadn’t changed much, I could tell she had maintained the same figure, but now it felt strong and powerful, overwhelming, like she could pick me up and do what she wanted to with me. And I wanted her to. In that moment, I didn’t care what it meant. I didn’t care about her husband, or my lost life, or even my future. Plaything or pet, slave or lover, it didn’t matter. I only wanted one thing.

I wanted to be hers.

[suekre]

So ive followed you a VERY long time (like from the deviantart days lmao) and i only just realised that you were talking about ocd in that post. Just wanted to let you know that i have ocd as well and god it is exhausting and i know exactly how you feel! I finally start therapy for it in 2 weeks. Pls know that i love your art and you very much and appreciate everything you create and share with us. All the best!! X

Hey you, I know you! Thank you for coming to my inbox and sharing this with me, I appreciate that so much. :) I am SUPER happy for you that you are about to get the help you need, that is awesome. I wish I could have had it at the time!

(And oh boy, the good old deviantart days, haha! Always happy to have my longtime followers around! :D)

OCD is exhausting indeed. People who aren’t affected can’t imagine what a nightmare it is. I, personally, am more prone to intrusive thoughts than actual obsessive-compulsive behavior. When people hear „OCD“, they usually think of obsessive hand washing or „leaving out every black tile while walking through a kitchen“ or so, while it can manifest in other ways. I didn’t know back then. I just thought I was going completely crazy at the time. I think I mentioned my disorder at times but I never actually openly talked about my own experiences (where I come from, mental disorders are a big NO NO, because it’s all in your head, just pull yourself together, other people are ACTUALLY suffering, it’s just dumb thoughts, you just need to think positive, y’know).

I kinda feel like doing it now. Just to get it out, and also to occupy my brain and hands and hey, maybe someone else can pick this up and find themselves in my own experiences. I sure know how relieved I was when I found out I wasn’t alone with my what I thought was a ‚Very Weird, Unique and Niche Problem‘.  

I gotta admit first - I’m doing much better nowadays. Even my worst days, as horrible as they may feel at the time, do in no way compare to the hell I went through in the second half of 2015. I have come a long way since my last (and so far worst... omg, oof, I hope there won’t be another) episode of intrusive thoughts. But, oh boy, was it intense.  It was the absolute worst time of my life, ever. I’m not writing this to scare anyone. Anyone who is familiar with this, will know how bad it is and anyone who can’t relate at all won’t feel affected anyway and will maybe even think something along the lines of „What the fuck?!“. I get it. It DOES sound crazy.

I have always been an overthinker. I always needed more validation and reassurance than other people around me and for the longest time I had no idea why that was. It was usually subtle - always kinda there but never strong enough to actually affect my life in a negative way. I just felt off at times, and not always super good. But I was generally ok, I could always manage.

Until that one episode that changed my life forever. I know that sounds dramatic but, even though I am in a good place nowadays, it sure DID change my life. I was 31, I lived together with my then-boyfriend and I still remember the exact date. Friday, July 24th, 2015. I remember the exact moment when my entire mind collapsed. It’s so weird, it literally happened from one second to the other. I am not making this up to sound more dramatic, it was a matter of seconds.

I was on my way home after work and I felt… restless and stressed. It felt good to get off work (it was my first full time job and... it didn’t go well, to put it nicely) but I was no longer really looking forward to my week off, and our trip to our favorite Open Air the following week. I picked up some dinner on my way, I came home, and I saw my boyfriend in the middle of the living room, he was making some preparations for our upcoming trip. When I saw him, tall and handsome and smiling at me, I smiled back but inside I felt like crying. My smile was fake. Kissing him felt weird, and also fake. And all of a sudden, there it was. The life changing thought:

„I don’t love him anymore.“

A simple thought. I had weird thoughts before, like anyone does, but they never had any greater impact on me. This time, though, that one thought knocked me off my feet. Not literally, I had turned into a pillar of salt somehow. This was the Perfect Man Of My Dreams (at least that was what I thought back then). The man I wanted to spend my life with, the man who made me happy every day! How could that even be, how could I even think something like that?

I felt even more restless. I didn’t tell him, of course. When he asked how my day was, I put on my fake smile again and said it was okay. We ate our dinner (although I had instantly lost any appetite), and I kept looking at him and the thoughts... just kept coming back.

You don’t love him anymore. What if you don’t love him anymore?

On repeat. It was awful. I just couldn’t shake them off.

It’s the stress, I tried to tell myself. You’re overworked. It’ll be good, you just need some rest.

But I couldn’t relax. My heart was racing, my blood was pumping. I didn’t know what was going on. I begged him to leave his work undone and take me out for an after work drink and he agreed. All the time, the thoughts wouldn’t leave my mind. I didn’t want to think them, but they were merciless, they just kept coming back. I felt so helpless.

A few drinks later, I had calmed down a bit, at least so much that I could stand to look at my BFs face again without feeling guilty. There you go, I said to myself, not quite convinced, you’ll be good. It’s already wearing off. When we crawled into bed later, I was tired and relaxed (and tipsy) enough to sleep and convinced that this was just a little glitch, that things would be just fine in the morning.

When I woke up, I felt exhausted. My heart was racing... and the thoughts came back IMMEDIATELY.

You don’t love him anymore. You gotta leave him.

What. The. HELL!? Why are these thoughts still a thing? Why are they still there? Why do they keep coming back?

I kept trying to push them away but the more I tried, the more intense they became. As if they tried to spite me. I started losing focus on everything else around me, the world slowly started to blur. It was just Me And My Thoughts from here. I tried my best to hide my state, and I think I managed for a while, but I felt like a robot any time I talked to someone. When people would pick up on my confusion, I usually brushed their concerns off. It’s nothing, I’m good.

I mean... how do you even tell someone that you just. can’t. stop. thinking. about whether you still love your boyfriend or not? According to the world, that is something you “just feel and know” after all. Except that I didn’t. I had no clue. I couldn’t feel anything. But, according to the world, that was perfectly normal, too. “Honeymoon phase is over at some point, babe. That’s everyday life, you grow comfy, it’s no longer a flash of feelings every day, you know that. You guys have been together for a while after all, what did you expect?!” ... what I felt didn’t feel like comfy everyday life either, though. Comfy everday life shouldn’t come with high key anxiety, sleepless nights and a loss of appetite at any lived second. If that was comfy everyday life, I sure didn’t want it.

So, what do you do when you have no clue about something? Right! Google! Go and ask the world! “How do you know that you still love your partner?”, “Is the love gone?” ... I spent hours, DAYS doing that, but no answer I found was remotely statisfying (or maybe it was for a minute, but the reassurance never lasted long) and I felt that those articles didn’t actually understand what I was asking in first place. I would spend every day like that. Permanently asking myself the same questions, analyzing myself, testing if the Big Feels for the man had decided to come back... nah, not really. Maybe NOW? If I just look at him close enough?! ... maybe if I squint a little?! Fuck, still nothing! Niente! Nada! I am a horrible person, aaah!

(Our open air trip was an emotional disaster by the way, I felt horrible all the time, and the permanent rain didn’t help. -3/10, do not recommend).

If I had known at the time that I wouldn’t spend just a few days but (more or less) six months with this shit... oof. I was already exhausted after those few days.

Over the course of the next weeks I stopped eating almost entirely. I just couldn’t. This permanent tight anxiety knot in my stomach made me want to throw up at the mere thought of food. At my worst point I weighed 138 lbs (63 kg), at 6 ft 1 (1,85 m). I often joked about how I had almost reached runway model standard. I was sick, I was weak, I was scared, but I just couldn’t eat and the bits I DID force myself to eat were burned almost right away by my crippling anxiety. (I still have clothes from that time, and I sometimes beat myself up for no longer fitting into them before I remember that I should NEVER fit into them EVER again.)

Instead I smoked a pack a day. I hardly got any sleep and when I did, it wasn’t relaxing. Always in Fight and Flight mode. My body was at alert level any minute, any day. I’m still asking myself how it could be that I never actually... collapsed. I was always tired, exhausted and malnourished... I dunno, you tell me.

The thoughts never really disappeared. They kept coming back in all variations. You don’t love him anymore. You have to leave him. You may not want to, but you have to. You don’t love him. I had very few “good moments” in between but in those good moments, my mind was usually frantically looking for explanations and reasons behind all this. For ways to improve my relationship, to feel better about my boyfriend. I came up with the WEIRDEST shit. Almost every day I found something new that bothered me. One day he was a little boring. That’s it! We gotta go out more, do more stuff, that’ll change everything. ... aaah, no. Guess not. The next day, it was something else. The day after THAT, it was something entirely different again.

I was suddenly prone to making some HELLA weird impulsive decisions, too. „I gotta break off contact to that one person RIGHT now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!“, “I gotta talk to my mom about THAT particular incident in my childhood right now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”, “I gotta make a trip to the mall JUST NOW, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”… the decisions made total sense to me the second I made them, for about ten minutes at most, but the initial rush of relief started to fade again quickly and I frantically started looking for new solutions. Google was my best friend. I couldn’t go a day without googling exessively. Overthinking, pacing, googling. Any day, any hour awake. Over weeks. A few months even. My mind was constantly reeling. It was a bottomless pit.  

I cannot put into words how exhausting that was. Sometimes the idea of throwing myself out of the next window seemed SO tempting, not because I wanted to die, but because I wanted the thoughts to stop tormenting me.

(I was out of regular therapy at the time, btw. I thought about calling my therapist about it but never did it. I felt isolated, I literally thought I had to do this all by myself.)

At some point, a few months into it, I somehow transferred to zombie mode. The thoughts became a little less intense over time. They were never gone but not quite as nagging anymore. But any time I wasn’t in alert mode, I felt just hollow instead. Sucked dry of any joy, of any emotion, of any sign of life. I just... functioned. Still tried to hide it. I dunno how well I did with that. Probably not at all well. I kept it all to myself, just because it felt that ridiculous. Tried to find excuses. “I’m just tired.”, “You know, there’s a lot going on in my head right now, but I’ll be good.” ... truth is that I don’t remember a whole lot of that time, it’s all blurry. There are just a few significant moments.

Such as that one evening, after work, when I left the building, made a few steps and stood five (or ten? fifteen??? who knows?! not me.) minutes on the spot, motionless, because I could no longer remember my way home.

I got fired from that job, by the way. I’m sure it was mostly due to low performance, I get it, but I can’t blame my poor state alone - they were also assholes.

Anyway.

I had, of course, never stopped the googling and one day, after hours of browsing any niche I hoped I hadn’t browsed yet, I somehow found a blog written by a young woman like me. The description tackled almost all of my thought patterns and I was blown. away. She asked herself the very same questions, with the very same twists, and... she even had a name for it.

ROCD. Relationship Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

I cried for what felt like hours. Out of relief. There was a person in this world who knew exactly what I was going through. And she even had tips how to overcome it. It wasn’t the first time I had heard about OCD, but as it had never affected me in any way before (I, too, associated it with compulsive hand washing and tile jumping), I wouldn’t have thought of it. After doing my own intense research on the subject, a huge part of me and my life finally started making sense to me. Not much was known about ROCD at the time, but it kinda didn’t matter anyway. What mattered was the OCD part. The subject of the thoughts is entirely interchangable. It’s the chain of thoughts itself that has to be broken. Don’t focus on the relationship. Break the chain instead.

The internet also recommended exposure therapy but as therapy wasn’t an option at the time (weird German laws... regular health insurance covers only a limited amount of therapy lessons within a certain span of time and I had used mine up and there was no way I could pay myself), I decided to try it myself, the key points being:

* No more googling, no more reassurance. Learn to live with the uncertainty, learn to live with Not Knowing.

* Let the thoughts happen. Watch them pass by. They’re just thoughts, they can’t harm you. Don’t fight them, just recognize them and let them stay, they’ll get less scary over time.

* Focus on other things, as hard as it is. Try to occupy your mind and your body. Any minute you spend doing something else but brooding is a win.

It all sounded so very abstract at the time, but I was determined to give it a try. Oh gosh, was it hard. After months of emotional torment and getting used to unhealthy ways of coping, it was SO DAMN FUCKING HARD to NOT google. To NOT think. It felt like torment all over again. How was I supposed to just let the thought sit with me!? It was scary, I didn’t want it! Just ONE little peek, only a second, come ON! I won’t do it again after that?!

Oh god, it was the worst, it really was. Trying to break the chain while I was so desperate to save my relationship was terrible. I honestly don’t remember HOW I made it... but I made it. I somehow... clawed and bit my way out of it. I went right through the pain and made it. It’s not actually a linear process but there comes this point (and I know a few people I met on online platforms who would back me up on this) when you know the worst is over. You just know it. Things weren’t exactly good by the time the thoughts were history but I had reign over my own head again, I could actually SEE the world again, and that was worth everything plus my body weight in gold.

I’ll stop right here because the following months weren’t about my OCD anymore, but about figuring out needs, figuring out myself and what I wanted from life and this particular relationship and it’s not quite relevant and another story. (I DID love my ex-BF but it turned out he wasn’t at all good for me, I had ignored all the red flags for too long, and it didn’t take long after this for us to go separate ways)

I hated this particular time in my life while it lasted but I have learned and taken so much from it. It has changed my life in so many ways. I learned that things are never set in stone, not for anyone. That there will always be uncertain times on our ways. That change is always scary. That it’s okay to be scared. That staying in crappy situations for the sake of it isn’t always the right thing to do. Sometimes, doing the right thing (aka leaving a relationship that isn’t good for you) can make you sad. Love does not equal compatibility.

Looking back, I am - in a very bizarre and twisted way - grateful for the experience. It was an incredibly important lesson for me that taught me to be kinder to myself, to look out for myself and to listen to my own needs. That I should put myself first at times. For the first time of my life, I really got in touch with myself and my own emotions. I learned to understand them, I learned where they come from. I learned to cut myself slack at times.

The list goes on and on, but you get my drift. I know myself inside and out at this point. That wasn’t always the case. Not until 2016.

It still comes back at times. Not with such full force, but it keeps creeping back in, pretty much any time I have to deal with uncertainty in my life. Bad news at work, not hearing from a friend for a while that I’m dying to hear from (inevitably thinking that they MUST be mad at me) or when I spot a few symptoms of sickness that I’m not familiar with (I practically never get sick). Not Knowing What Will Happen drives me CRAZY. I hate uncertainty, I need my life to be stable and calm to fully function.

Now, in COVID times, it’s mostly the fear of suffering from an incurable disease. AGAIN. I’m familiar with that, too. I’m not even scared of catching the virus, I just fell right back into overthinking any symptom I have, even if it’s just a short pain in the neck or whatever (you know, things that one usually brushes off). When my life was busier, I was MUCH better at handling those thoughts. Most of the time, they didn’t even come up in first place. Sitting inside and avoiding contact 99,9% of all times, and having little to no actual distraction („reading/watching movies“ doesn’t help me personally, it does’t occupy my mind enough, I usually just stare right through the pages/screen), however, leaves FAR too much time for the thoughts to unfold, once they come up.

This subtle but lingering concern for my health puts my body into a permanent state of anxiety once more. Fight and Flight mode. The pace of my heartbeat is always slightly, but perpetually, increased. It isn’t always outright panic attacks, it’s this constant state of having to be… alert. Something MIGHT happen, y’know. Be prepared. Relaxing and doing nice things becomes almost impossible. Instead, I get tired and exhausted. Depressed, even. It sucks the joy right out of me. I feel like living under a glass dome. I see what’s happening around me but I am unable to connect, emotionally. People keep living their lives and I can watch them, but I can’t be a part of it. It’s a deeply crushing feeling. I manage to somehow function but I don’t really feel alive. My abandonment issues and fear of „getting left behind“ kicked in again, too. I want to catch up and take part but can’t so I stress myself over THAT, too. This only adds to the exhaustion and makes me feel even more isolated.  

Hello, vicious circle, my old friend.

I didn’t even realize that I had such huge potential to fall right back into it. It all started… I dunno, by mid/end of January?? It’s a bit blurry this time. It is directly connected to Germany’s recent lockdown, though. A massive case of Not Knowing How Things Will Turn Out. I failed to take better care of myself in the past few weeks. And now I’m here. AGAIN. Ugh.

But well, as I said, it’s not as bad and, as I said, I have at least learned some important things over the years. In this particular case of intrusive thoughts, the first rule is: NEVER GOOGLE SYMPTOMS. And never google shit like „chances to survive (whatever illness think you have at the time)“, either. The mind longs for reassurance but googling symptoms is BAD, as we all know by now. It’s not even reassuring when you do it. Because you’ll inevitably end up diving through the vast internet for HOURS, picking up an entry that some person named Kevin made on a cancer forum way back in 2004, saying that his uncle died the next day after finding out he has cancer and that is, OF COURSE, what will happen to YOU, too. There is no other way. YOU WILL DIE.

Excuse the text walls. I took an opportunity to ramble about my own experience, for the first time ever since it happened (not including the few short talks I had with the few people I met on internet forums).

To anyone who made it this far: Thank you so much for reading. It sure felt good to write this down for once, even if it’s just a short summary (yes, really, I mean, we’re talking six-ish months here), and the descriptions fall woefully short. If anyone affected by the same happens to read this -  I am so, SO sorry you are suffering so much. You are NOT alone and you are NOT weird. Talk to someone. Open up. To your doctor, or you therapist, if you have one. To a person you trust. It is the worst but there are ways, there is help. I wish I had known at the time it started for me.

You know now. :)

P.S.: DON’T FUCKING GOOGLE:

[maddiewritesstucky]

Call me maybe (but only during business hours)

A smutty gift for @raynakiasbel​, for her endless patience with my infuriatingly slow writing and inability to focus on one thing at a time! 

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3308

Tags: CEO Steve, College Student Bucky, Poorly-Timed Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Light Daddy Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones

Part 1 of the SugarVerse series on Ao3 

Bucky is most definitely not watching the clock.

His eyes have absolutely not been glued to the LED display on the bedside table for what feels like a hundred goddamn years, watching the little white lines form number after number, blinking their way into the formation that will mean he can pick up his phone, and call Steve.

That would be all kinds of pathetic, and Bucky is not that kind of boyfriend.

He’s certainly not the kind of boyfriend who’s already fixing to climb out of his skin on day three (three!) of Steve’s out-of-town business trip. Bucky is one of those autonomous, self-sufficient boyfriends, who is entirely too busy with his own obscenely full schedule to care about the fact that he’s not getting dicked down at his every whim this week.

He has midterms to study for, and hours to log at StarkTech to go towards his internship, and Nat’s surprise birthday party to plan even though she’s literally impossible to surprise…he doesn’t have the mental real estate to spare on thirst right now. He might have become a whole other kind of hoe since being exposed to the many splendors of Steve Rogers’ cock, but twitching for it before they’ve even hit the seventy-two hour mark?

That would be highly problematic, if that was happening.

Which it isn’t.

Bucky is well accustomed to flying solo when Steve’s off in corporate alter-ego mode; he’s done this countless times over the past few months since he moved in with Steve, and he’d made his peace with it long before that. You don’t couple up with the CEO of an internationally renowned architecture firm and expect to see his face at the dinner table every night, and for the most part, Bucky has no complaints about having the stupidly plush bed all to his starfishing self a few nights a month.

It’s just...there’s a method to this, usually. And that method does not involve three entire days of near radio silence.

When Steve goes away, even on his busier trips, he always finds time to call Bucky at least once a day, even if it’s just five minutes as he’s crawling into bed to say goodnight. They’ll text, and Steve will send emails that are endearingly formal because his brain tends to stay in CEO-mode 24/7 when he’s on business trips, and they’ll generally tide one another over with tidbits of cyber-affection until they get back in the same physical space.  

But this time? They’ve hardly been in contact at all. And it’s on Bucky, too, at least in part - he’s been swamped with his own workload the past few weeks, struggling to find quality time or head space even in the few days just before Steve left, and all they’ve managed so far is a few sporadic messages in their rare moments of down-time, which have so far been chaotically misaligned.

It’s been a drag, if Bucky’s honest, and he can occupy himself all he wants with his exam prep and his party-plotting, but at the end of the day…

Bucky’s just a boy, laying in front of a clock, asking his dick to hold out just a few more minutes.

Because right now, it’s 10:42pm.

It’s 10:42pm, which means that in exactly three minutes, Steve will be sliding into the crisp white sheets of whatever lavish hotel bed he’s being put up in; buck-ass naked because he’s as stringent on his no-pyjamas policy as he is on his bed time, and in exactly three minutes…

Bucky’s gonna call him, and phone-fuck the soul right out of his offensively perfect body.

He flips onto his back and nestles into the pillows, a dumb grin already fixing to his face in his hormone-fuelled stupor. The lights of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling penthouse windows bathe his naked skin in soft orange-gold, and his hand migrates of its own accord to the semi he’s been rocking ever since it occurred to him that he could just straight up call Steve and spring a jerk-sesh on him.

The whole thing feels deliciously sneaky-skanky. He’s never done this before, just cold-called Steve with an x-rated agenda. They’ve had phone sex before, a great many times in fact, but there’s always a lead-in; a text exchange turned sordid that spirals into a video call straight out of Bucky’s horny teenage fantasies. 

But he’s never gone in jizz-first, ask-questions-later, and as certain as he is that Steve will be entirely on board, it feels just risky enough to have Bucky a little high off the adrenaline of it.

Here lies Bucky, Queen of the Sluts! Stretched out bare atop cream colored sheets, lit up by the New York skyline! Dick in hand and filth on the tip of his tongue!

He is power! He is scandal! He is ready for this!

He pulls the lube out from its hiding place under the pillow and slicks himself up, stroking slow as he tries to summon some small measure of nonchalance about the whole thing. He has a vision for how he wants this to go, and it does not involve him losing his cool the second he hears Steve’s voice on the other end of the line.

This is about seduction, about surprising Steve with some old-school nasty, no video or visuals involved - just Bucky’s filthy mouth and vivid imagination, and he’s determined to keep it together long enough to paint Steve a picture he can jack it to.

He pulls up Steve’s contact and waits out the final torturous minute with his heart in his throat, hitting the call button the second it ticks over to go-time. He hits the speakerphone button, dropping the phone onto the pillow next to him, and holds his breath through the four rings it takes for Steve to pick up.

“...James?”

And oh, but that bodes well...Steve uses his real name in two contexts, and two contexts only - when Bucky visits him at work and he’s in business mode, and when he’s got Bucky flat on his back underneath him, letting him have it.

If Steve’s already keyed up tonight? This just got a lot more interesting.

“Mm, there it is,” Bucky heaves a deep sigh, “that’s what I needed, that voice...”

His mind’s eye conjures up visions of Steve spread out across the bed, taut lines of muscle and bare flesh all laid out. He’s probably just had a shower, so his skin would be all warm and pink, smelling like soap and aftershave; his hair all fluffy from that irreverent way he has of rubbing it towel-dry...god, Bucky misses him.

“James? Are you alright?”

He can practically hear Steve’s brows drawing together in that way they do when he’s overworked; a tight-wound tension in his voice that Bucky has every confidence he can allay before the night’s through.

“Mm, be a lot better if it was your hand wrapped around my cock right now,” Bucky drawls, rolling his body for his audience of no one, “but I guess I’ll just have to settle for fucking my fist to the sound of your voice. Can you hear me touching myself, Daddy?”

He breathes a soft groan as he strokes himself slick and languid, and Steve is silent for a long moment that Bucky’s brain is all too happy to color in with pornographic images of how Steve might be listening; where his hands might be wandering, how his cock would be filling at the mental picture Bucky’s painting. Bucky thinks this might just be the best idea he’s ever had, and he doesn’t hold back on letting Steve hear exactly how good he’s feeling about his decision...

...Until Steve clears his throat, and unceremoniously hits him with an ice-cold dousing of you-done-fucked-up.

“I’m in a meeting right now, I have two clients with me.”  

There is zero inflection in his tone, and if Bucky thought he had experienced true panic before, he was mistaken. He can physically feel himself paling; his mouth dropping open soundlessly, humiliation warring with plain confusion as to why the hell Steve is still working at this ridiculous hour.

And then it clicks.

Horribly, harrowingly clicks.

Steve isn’t working at stupid o’clock at night.

In the perpetual haze of Bucky’s overworked brain and Steve’s ever-changing schedule, Bucky had forgotten that this trip was taking Steve to Hawaii.

For Steve, it isn’t slutty phone-sex hours. It’s very sensible, 4:45pm strictly-business hours.

“Ohmygod,” Bucky gasps, bolting upright and looking desperately around the room like it might hold the solution to his colossal screw up, “Steve, I completely forgot--”

“Mr Barnes, I can give you exactly two minutes of my time right now because I realize it’s been difficult to touch base recently,” Steve interrupts, his tone cooling abruptly with the air of professional detachment and veiled authority Bucky’s heard him use on work calls a thousand times. “Can you tell me exactly what the issue is with the redesign?”

...Bucky blinks, breath caught in his throat as he scrambles to string together some sense from Steve’s response.

Steve hasn’t mentioned any specific projects lately, is Bucky supposed to know something about a redesign? Was there something he--

Oh.

Oh.

His brain and his dick catch on at the same time in a borderline painful rush of blood. He hears Steve pull back from the phone to address his clients, placating them with an apology and the assurance that this won’t take long, and Jesus Christ...Steve is actually doing this.

Steve is actually going to let this happen, going to let Bucky have one-sided phone sex with him while he sits there in some boardroom, with actual clients sitting right in front of him.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s breath leaves him in a rush as he drops back against the pillows and wraps a frantic hand around himself. “The issue is you’ve been gone three fucking days and I wanna sit on your face.”

“Mm, I see why that’s problematic,” Steve muses, cool and unaffected, “what exactly do you need from me?”

God, Bucky can just picture it - Steve sitting there looking like a fucking wet dream in one of his distractingly well-fitting suits, with his hair swept perfectly over and his beard trimmed just close enough to show off the sharp cut of his jaw; radiating that air of quiet authority that makes Bucky want to bounce in his lap until he dies...

Bucky knows for a fact that Steve’s face will be betraying precisely none of what’s happening on the other end of the line, and why the hell is that such a turn on?

“Well I was gonna describe in graphic detail all the things I want you to do to me when you get back,” Bucky huffs, breaths coming faster already, “but if I’m on the clock now, guess I’ll have to settle for sayin’ I need you to bring that dick home ASAP...fuckin’ miss it.”

“I see,” Steve sighs, “well I’m not back in New York for a few days yet, how do you plan to manage this in the interim?”

Bucky curses under his breath, tightening his grip on himself. “Just have to fuck myself, imagine it’s you.”  He sounds every bit as unconvinced of the efficacy of this plan as they both know he is, and Steve hums thoughtfully in response.

“I’m going to need more detail, paint me a picture here.”

Bucky knows he’s blushing, feels the heat of it all the way down his chest, and fuck this shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Dirty talking at Steve and getting nothing back but clipped responses, void of emotion and the usual undercurrent of affection he’s become accustomed to?

Work-Steve needs to come to the bedroom more often.

“I’ll touch myself, like I’m doing right now,” he twists his grip a little on the upstroke, hissing at the change in sensation, “get my fist all wet and tight around my cock...pretend it’s your mouth.”

How close are Steve’s clients sitting to him? Steve wouldn’t be letting this happen if there was any way they could hear...but what if one of them has some kind of medical condition that gives them enhanced hearing? What if one of them can read minds and is hearing this entire conversation play out in stereo quality in their head?

Why is there a part of Bucky that hopes one or both of those things are true?!

“...And?” Steve prompts, almost brusque, and Bucky gives himself a second to revel in the way his dick twitches for the hard edge in Steve’s voice.

“And I’ll, fuck- ” Bucky stutters, rocking his hips with the rhythm of his strokes, pushing himself up through his grip, “I’ll use my toys, fingerfuck myself.”

“Right, well why don’t you go ahead and start that for me now,” Steve says, off-hand; pulling back from the phone to place an honest-to-god coffee order with the oblivious intern who’s now seemingly in the room too, and Bucky’s never felt more of an affinity for the whole bored-and-ignored thing.  

He slicks up the fingers of his free hand and shifts a little onto his side, hiking a knee up as he slips a finger inside himself.

“Can I take that as a yes, Mr Barnes?” Steve asks at the breathy moan Bucky lets out as he presses in first with one, and then with two fingers, and Bucky nods frantically even though Steve can’t see him.

“Yes, fuck...I'm doin' it...feels so fucking good, Steve.”

And it does. It’s a difficult angle, and he can't quite hit the spot he wants to inside himself, but the steady stroke-tug against his rim while his fist flies over his cock is working for him; winding him towards what would, in any other non time-constrained circumstance, be an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

He can hear Steve shuffling papers, making quiet sounds of agreement along with whatever conversation is going on in the background between his clients whilst they wait, unknowing, and Bucky can’t decide whether it’s a blessing or an immense disappointment that Steve has to bite his tongue right now; that he can’t unleash any of the filth he’d definitely be spitting if he didn’t have an audience. 

Steve fucking loves to run his mouth, and Bucky loves to hear it; lives for the endlessly colorful obscenities Steve comes out with in the throws of it.

Just listen to you, he’d be laughing a little; his voice dripping with that indulgent, self-satisfied grin he gets, so goddamn easy for it, ain’t that right baby? Three fuckin’ days and you’re gagging for it...should be ashamed of yourself…

But Steve is in a very public forum right now, in the middle of a meeting no less, trying to give the impression that he’s very decidedly not having phone sex. Right now, he’s Steve Rogers - CEO, consummate professional.

But he is also an asshole, and when he asks Bucky “do you feel you have a firm grasp on the situation, or would a second set of hands be helpful on this one?” Bucky swears he can hear that faint hint of a smirk all the way across the fucking country.

“Might just have to go find myself a second set of hands if you stay away too long,” Bucky retorts, emboldened by the distance, and a little morbidly curious to see what sassing gets him when Steve can’t say shit about it.

Turns out, what it gets him is a full-body shiver and a throb between his thighs as Steve’s tone dips to somewhere in the realm of politely-veiled threat. “I would not advise that, Mr Barnes.”

It occurs to Bucky, then, that this won’t just be done and dusted once they hang up. At the end of the week, Steve will come back to New York, and he will absolutely have some Things To Say about this little interruption.

He can picture it now, the way Steve will stand there all calm, staring him down with his mouth upticked at the corner while Bucky fumbles his way through an explanation. 

He’ll probably do that thing where he doesn’t say much but his eyes say everything, and Bucky will have to try really hard to seem remorseful even though they’ll both know he’s not actually all that sorry. And Steve won’t want him to be, not really, but it’ll be something he can use to their mutual benefit, nonetheless.

Fuck, Steve might spank him.

Bucky smothers a moan into the pillow next to him, twisting his fingers inside himself and brushing his thumb across the head of his cock as he turns that thought over, Steve bending him over his knee, or better yet, over his desk...

“Oh,” Bucky gasps, a sudden rush of heat twisting tight in his gut, “fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Steve huffs a vaguely incredulous laugh, and there’s a faint creaking sound like he’s settling further back in his chair. “Oh really? Who authorized that?”  

Bucky lets out a deeply undignified whine, his whole body strung tight enough to snap; caught between the sensations of his hand moving frantically over his dick and his fingers scissoring inside himself.

“Come on,” he whimpers, teetering on the knife edge of losing it, “tell me I can finish, please.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Oh, fuck him, fuck him...how is he still edging Bucky when he was the one who put the rush order on this?

“Please, Daddy,” Bucky doesn’t try to hide the desperation in his voice as he changes tact, “if you don’t authorize this orgasm I think I’m gonna go blind, just fucking let me come!”

Steve pauses a beat, humming a considering sound. “No, I’m not comfortable signing off on that. We’re tabling this until I get back to New York.”

Bucky freezes, both hands stilling; his face crumbling into a mask of abject disbelief.  “You can’t be serious?”  His stomach drops, even as something in the back of his mind says he really should have seen this coming...or, not coming, as is the case.

“I'm sure we can come to a far more satisfying resolution in person,” Steve says, maddeningly cavalier.

Bucky’s gearing up to plead his case, but Steve’s not done ruining his night yet.

“In fact, Mr Barnes,” he piles on, “I’d like to make you personally responsible for ensuring no further action is taken on the matter until I return. Can I trust you with this?”

Bucky gapes down at his poor, oblivious cock still standing at eager attention in his grasp, unaware of the disaster that’s just befallen them, and he takes his hands off himself with a pained groan.

“This is criminal,” he objects, flopping heavily onto his back and throwing his arms out to his sides, “if my dick falls off, it’s your fault!”

“Great! Glad to hear it,” Steve chirps, as if he's not the worst person alive, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Whatever,” Bucky scowls at the shadows stretching across the ceiling, willing his mind off the throbbing ache of injustice between his thighs, “I’m totally not answering any of your calls.”

Steve’s smile bleeds into his tone a little when he responds, the closest he’s come to fondness yet. “Okay, speak soon, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky tries, really tries, to inject some petulance into his tone as he signs off with a grumbled “love you, I guess,” but he can’t quite bring himself to sulk as much as he feels the situation warrants.

After all, in exactly four days, Steve will come back to New York.

He’ll come home, and they’ll laugh about this, and in exactly four days…

Steve will make him forget what he was even upset about in the first place.

(Part 2 of the series here!)

[firelord-frowny]

obligatory disclaimer that this post is ENTIRELY based on my own perceptions of my own experiences, and may or may not be true to a broader degree. 

anyway, Weight Stuff under the cut. also LMFAO this post is long as SHIT lmfaoooo and it doesn’t even end with the topic i meant for it to be about. 

Sooooo, i’ve always very loudly been on Team Mind-Your-Business-About-Other-People’s-Bodies, and i still am, and i am ALWAYS down to (usually gently) call out someone who’s overstepping their boundaries as far as other people’s bodies and lifestyles go, blah blah, and i am KEEEENLY aware of the damage people cause with fatphobia, and that rhetoric surrounding ~diet and exercise~ is almost ALWAYS malicious in terms of hyperfocusing on “ugly fat” and shaming people into feeling horrible enough about theirselves that they pay out the ass for Quick Fixes, and there’s almost 0 focus on The Actual Health Benefits of a healthy lifestyle other than just Maybe Being Slimmer. 

But alsoooooooooooooooooooooo???

i’ve always felt like, because of all that shit, it’s so difficult for me to feel comfortable talking about my own body and my own habits and my own shortcomings and my own goals. like, i DO feel bothered by the weight I’ve gained recently. NOT because it makes me feel ugly - i don’t feel ugly at all. i literally almost always feel beautiful lmao. NOT because i’m worried about how other people see me - i don’t have relationships with people who would give someone a hard time about their weight in the first place, and beyond that, i’m generally unconcerned with what people think of my appearance. 

the thing that bothers me is that i KNOW my weight gain has been the result of unhealthy lifestyle choices. i’ve always eaten more junkfood than anyone i know, and i’ve always tended to eat VERY few healthy things. so like... that’s bad enough for my health. but i ALSO don’t get much physical activity. and then covid hits and my job is snatched out from under me and i spend most of every day in the same 100 square feet. so like... OF COURSE i gained weight. lots of people did! people gain weight all the time for lots of reasons and nobody should feel bad or guilty about it. 

but for me, even though i don’t see my weight gain as cause to lament about my appearance, i DO see it as an indicator that i’m not taking very good care of myself. i mean, if i’m thinner with a shitty diet, then my thinness kind of allows me to ignore my bad choices because there’s no ~visual~ reminder. i know that’s prolly fucked up, but that’s what’s happening in my head. when i’m thinner, i don’t have to acknowledge that there are going to be consequences for my choices. 

but to SEE my body change as a direct result of crappy diet and no exericse??? it’s really made me see how urgent it is that i start treating myself better RIGHT the fuck now. i mean, i am Young, but i won’t be young forever, and the longer i keep eating garbage and sitting around all day, the sooner i can expect to start having real health issues. and like, heart problems run in my family (as they do in MANY black families). i already have pcos, and that puts me at a higher risk for stuff like that. 

so, it’s been scary to have to face the reality that i’m setting myself up for disaster. 

and i figured that CLEARLY i’ve been unable to get myself on track For Free, so i finally caved and signed up for noom, and i’m down almost 10 pounds already.

and i get on the scale and weigh myself and i feel proud! i feel happy! i feel capable! i feel like i’ve proven to myself that i CAN make better choices. i’m NOT weak-willed. i’m NOT incapable of taking care of myself. 

But then I feel like i shouldn’t say that out loud, or i shouldn’t tell people how glad i am to see the natural result of my healthier choices. 

i’m not glad because i look different - i’m glad because my different look is a sign that i’m succeeding in taking control of my lifestyle. my different look is visual evidence that i’m eating more fruit and whole grains and drinking more water and i’m eating less sugary foods and less meats, and i’m eating healthier portions, and i’m not snacking all day. i can SEE the proof that i’m making choices that are going to give me a better chance at staying healthy throughout my life. 

i’m KINDA exaggerating in that i don’t actually think i LOOK different just yet lmao i feel like i look more or less the same. but i definitely do FEEL some subltle differences. i mean maybe it’s a placebo effect, but i think my forearms are slightly narrower and my bewbs are a bit less... cumbersome lmao. (i SWEAR like half of the weight i’ve gained has been in my boobs alone omfg). 

but idk, i guess what i’m trying to express is that i just... don’t feel comfortable sharing how glad i am about my progress bc most of my social circles are comprised of people who are rightly critical of the way people talk and think about weight loss. i knooooow that most reasonable folks, if i give the Full Explanation about how my gladness is due to the fact that i can see that my lifestyle is changing for the better, would understand and would be happy for me. 

but uhhhh lmao some people Aren’t Reasonable and are committed to having a negative reaction to any statement that seems to exalt thinness in any context at all whatsoever. 

and i KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW that a person’s weight is not an automatic indicator of their health, and you can’t assume that a person has Become Healthier just because they’ve lost weight, and you can’t assume that a person has become unhealthier just because they’ve gained it. there are all kinds of reasons for people being whatever size they are, and we can’t make those kinds of judgments about people’s size bc obviously we don’t know their life! we don’t know if they eat veggies and go jogging! we don’t know if a thin person has a cinnabon for breakfast every day or if a fat person is a professional dancer. so like. it’s stoopit to assume anything at all about a person’s health/lifestyle just based on their size. 

BUUUUUUUUUUT!!!! an individual person can make those judgements about their own size and their own health. like, people know why they’re the size that they are, whether it’s genetics or lifestyle or health related. one person who’s super thin knows it’s because they have a fast metabolism. another person who’s thin knows it’s because they starve theirself. another person who’s thin knows it’s because they intentionally make choices that would result in their size. and the same goes for big people! they know if they eat too much junk food, or if they’re just genetically ~meant~ to be their size, blah blah blah. 

so when a person talks about their own weight and how it relates to their own health and their own lifestyle, i feel like it’s Inappropriate to lecture them about how ~it’s okay to be fat, you don’t need to lose weight~ blah blah. bc like... DUH, it’s okay to be fat. whether it’s because of lifestyle or genes, it’s still okay. it’s allowed. and people should be free to feel beautiful and see theirselves as UNCONDITIONALLY valuable and intrinsically worthy of the space they occupy in the universe. If a person actually disparages theirself because of their weight, then sure, you’re probably welcome to tell that person that their size, no matter the reason for it, has no bearing on their worth and that they have the right to feel good about who they are and how they look. 

but if someone says, “you know, it’s really time that i finally started eating right and exercising so i can be healthier and lose weight,” thennnn... i feel like the only appropriate response is to cheer them on and tell them to go for it! if someone knows that their weight is the result of unhealthy habits, and they express a desire to change that, there’s no need to try to tell them that they don’t need to try to change it omfg. 

like... literally everyone needs to eat well and exercise in order to give theirself their best chance at staying in good health. thin people need to eat well and exercise. fat people need to eat well and exercise. they only people who DON’T need to eat well and exercise would be people who are actually physically incapable of rigorous movement or people who are, idk, allergic to most ~healthy~ foods. 

So if someone who’s been eating junk and sitting around tells you that they want to start eating well and exercising... that’s a GOOD THING. 100% of the time. it’s ridiculous to respond to that with a lecture about ~all sizes are beautiful~ and ~you can do whatever you want, you don’t have to Fit The Mold~ like omfg THAT’S NOT THE POOOOOIIIINNNTTTT!!! 

basically, i feel like in the midst of rightly defending fat people’s right to exist as they are, some of the Discourse has inadvertently careened into the absurd territory of actually DISCOURAGING people from making HEALTHY lifestyle changes that would result in weight loss. 

as i’m typing this, it also occurs to me that there seems to be an assumption that anyone who intends to lose weight is planning to do it via extreme but temporary methods like restrictive diets and unsustainably vigorous exercise. 

i feel like some people need to acknowledge that there’s a difference between “i’m only going to eat one meal a day and exercise for 4 hours a day so i can lose 30 pounds before my wedding day,” and “i’m going to lose my excess weight by transitioning to a healthier lifestyle.” the former describes an unhealthy and unsustainable attempt to starve and overwork yourself to lose x amount of pounds that you’re inevitably gonna regain after you go back to your normal habits, and it’s exclusively focused on appearance. like, it CAN’T be about health, because those methods are unhealthy! you don’t get healthy by doing unhealthy things! 

the latter describes a legitimately healthy way of life that can and SHOULD be sustained for a person’s whole life if ptll ossible. there’s no need to try to force your body into a different shape in a short amount of time when you could instead just allow your size to adjust slowly to a permanent and positive lifestyle change. 

but it seems like there’s a knee-jerk reaction to condemn weight loss in any context altogether. 

i under staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand why people might have that attitude and i’m not mad about it. i GET why some people might be hypervigilant about condemning any belief that suggests that being fat is something that a person should be unhappy about, and i don’t want people to stop doing that. 

but i doooooooooooooooooo think that perhaps it’s time that people begin learning to trust other people’s analyses of their own bodies and their own choices and their own goals, and learn to tell when a person’s weight loss is motivated by genuine health reasons, or by social pressure/shame/embarrassment. not everyone who wants to lose weight hates their body. not everyone who wants to lose weight has low self esteem. people can feel fabulous and gorgeous in their current body, and still want to make choices to change it via improving their health.

and like! some people genuinely just don’t WANT to lose weight that they know they’ve gained from unhealthy habits. some people are totally fine with living their life the way they like to live it, and prioritizing their enjoyment of their lifestyle over efferts to prevent future health issues. and that’s their right! and nobody should say shit about it! mind ya business! 

i kinda compare it to like... cave divers, or daredevils, or mountaineers. those are all HELLA dangerous activities that kill or seriously injure a LOT of people. and the people who engage in those activities KNOW this. they KNOW that they’re at a significantly higher risk of premature death compared to people who DON’T do those things, and they know that they could increase the odds of living a log time by Not Doing Those Things. 

but they do it anyway! because they want to! because they think it’s fun! because the enjoyment of the activity is, for them, worth the risk of harm. they’re living a lifestyle that could kill them, but nobody says shit about it. nobody shames them for it. they just accept that people have the right to be cray cray if that’s what they want to do. people might think daredevils are stupid, but they’re not trying to bully them into quitting. 

so if somebody wants to eat a diet comprised of nothing but eating cinnabons 3 times a day every day their whole life, that’s their right! mind ya damn business! if somebody hates exercise enough that they’re okay with the possibility of health problems down the line, then fine! it would be fair to worry about that person and to wish that they’d make differen choices, in the same way that it would be fine for someone to worry about their dearedevil friend and wish that they weren’t a daredevil. but it’s still not grounds to be a dickhead to them. 

[obeymematches]

AAA, hi I'm that first anon ( /w\)

I'm glad you're doing well ❤️ Thank you so much for the content you're making. I've been kinda losing interest in Obey Me but I'd like to request a match-up, maybe it'll help me rekindle my love for the game.

So, hmm. I'm 18 and a bit of a short gal, 4' 11 since I last checked (aaaa, Asian genes. But hey, cute size difference).

I'm an INFP-T, so I kinda suck at socialising hahah. But I make up for it by showing a cheery exterior. It always feels good to leave a good impression.

I usually like to try keeping a soft image, but will also be a loud memelord if I ever get comfortable enough.

I'm about to study HUMSS next school year, dreaming of becoming an arts teacher or prof, if I can manage. But I struggle with anxiety, which kinda clashes with my dream career, since a teacher requires confidence ,w,)

I tend to put others' needs before myself, I always want to make sure my friends are happy. The world is... horrible, so I really try my best to ensure they're smiling. It just gives me good serotonin if I know I made them feel happier.

My brain is horrible at keeping stuff, meaning I'm really forgetful. And oof, not really the smartest tool in the shed. No thoughts, head empty. Only love and escapism✌️😔 My dumbass brain is another thing that clashes with my dream job.

I like drawing, listening to music (distracts me from bad thoughts), video games (my most favs are rpgs and open world), horror stuffs, and crying whenever I see frogs and dogs. I also like plants. Ohh, and shiny rocks, heck yea.

Tho, I'm not really taking care of any at the moment, but I dream of having my own garden. I love the cottagecore aesthetic.

A thing I should add I guess is that I used to be a total weeb, so my behaviour and speech is heavily influenced. I'd sometimes casually drop a 'hai?', 'nani', 'nande kore' and etc. in convos. Kinda makes me cringe, but dang I can't stop.

Even if I don't enjoy watching anime as much as before, I do like anime movies. All ghibli films, Kimi no Nawa, Weathering with You and A Silent Voice are my favs.

I just love the soundtracks so much qoq

My worse flaws are I'm hella sensitive, a huge procrastinator, childish, and easily jealous.

But despite me being a lazy dumbass, if I put my mind into something, I will not stop until I finish the thing. Which means I also tend to overwork myself.

I know it's unhealthy but it really keeps me motivated, aaa-

I also seem to like acting as if I know a lot? I mean, I come across as that but my real intention is I just thought to share my knowledge of the subject.

I just say a lot of stuff because I tend to blabber and jumble my words.

I guess my love language is words of affirmation. Compliments, I love you's, heart memes, cheesy pick up lines that my sleep-deprived self thought of at 4am- all of em!

These are the weapons I torture my friends with o(○｀ω´○)9

But ahh, the thing is I've never dated anyone before. I find it so difficult to fall for someone irl, or even gain crushes. Mostly fictional. So I have absolutely no experience in the dating business.

Something to do with my self esteem and trust issues, ekk-

Oof, that's long. I hope that's not too much. Again, thank you so much if you happen to get to write this. Take your time, hun ^w^ ❤️💕 AAAA, and congratulations on reaching 100 followers!

----------

Hi! 

Noooooo i’m so sorry it took me so much time to write this ;; I hope you like the result though! thank you for your patience!!  💕 💕 💕 

I decided to match you with Mammon! 

Here is why: 

Okay so obviously there is a bit of a height difference, I mean he is not even near to being the tallest but thats exactly why he thinks you are the best height - it makes him feel taller and that is good for his confidence. 

Mammon is known for going out and socializing a lot - even if more often than not he ends up in some kind of unusual situation. He is good at taking the initiative in case you have trouble. Just don’t always follow through his ideas he suggests to bond, because most of the time it will end up getting both of you in trouble. I mean it’s not like Lucifer would punish you too badly because of something stupid Mammon got you to do (besides you having to listen to a lecture about why the thing you two did was dumb), but poor friend of yours is not so lucky.  :(

  I like to think of him as a positive, rather optimistic, maybe naive person but I think your cheerful attitude goes well with that. I mean think about the aura you two would spread! 

He would definitely be surprised to learn about your loud memelord side, but that would fascinate him so much because you can open up to him sooner than to his brothers and that also makes him more proud to be with you! I think that would also help him grow some real deep feelings for you

 I think you’d be a great influence on him to help motivating him to put some more energy into his education. Although the only reason he would care more about that is the study times he can have with you, and it is up to you to decide if those sessions are actually studying together (read: you tutoring him and him staring at you in awe when you don’t look but can’t grasp the material) or if there’s an attempt but a couple minutes later he is talking about how to earn money fast and both of you try said method.

Helping him study sometimes would definitely help your self-esteem! I think he can come off as rather confident, so hanging around with people like him would definitely boost your confidence!

I think he would literally melt if someone put his well-being before themselves. Theres no going back now he is lovesick. I mean just think about all the times his brothers make fun of him. 

 I’m prettysure he is the best at making people laugh! He has no care in the world even if he has to do something dangerously dumb to make you smile!! 

He can be rather forgetful too so thats something the both of you have to work on if possible, but relationshipwise that should not cause conflicts. Sure he might forget about some stuff but it’s never your bday or a date with you because both of you are in love. 

I think he can try your hobbies to impress you or just to have another topic to talk about, but he will probably never be the best at drawing. I think the amount of music you listen to would drastically decrease as he is very good at occupying your mind - with positive thoughts! 

It is confirmed that he alsp enjoys videogames and he is good at them, so thats something you two can do together when you don’t really feel like going out. 

If you show him horror movies he will scream and will not be able to sleep well for 2 weeks but he is going to deny that with his life so good luck! 

 I think he would find it cute that you like frogs and rocks and stuff, he might tease you a bit about it at first but if he sees a frog on sale he will spend his money to give you a surprise frog! it will probably be some live magical frog (either poisonous or some weird demon magic frog that will have everyone in the house of lamentation end up in a comedic situation). So that was the last time he got you something he has no idea about without asking you first.  

Oh he would definitely tease you a lot about your vocabulary, but Levi would catch on you because you might not actually be a normie... And thats how Mammon gets too jealous to ever tease you again about something like that - how can he allow Levi to hang out with you :( 

And that brings us to both of you being easily jealous. In some cases that might end in conflicts because one person gets annoyed but in this particular case you just need to have a conversation about it. Set some boundaries both of you are okay with, and no issue! 

I think to make sure your time alone with Levi is more limited he would totally watch anime movies with you! 

He definitely adores your determination! If you ever ask him what he likes about you, he will probably mention this as one trait.

 Hmmm as I elaborated before, you knowing more stuff about things will probably prevent situations that would be caused by Mammon not being informed about some stuff.

Okay so he is definitely one who sends you memes at ungodly hours and you can’t stop him. He is awake, lying in bed, too in love to do anything besides think about you and smile and face the issues of being the local tsundere. And then you send him a meme full of love and he can not fall asleep for the rest of the night, feeling butterflies and imagining soft things with you like he did with nobody else before. 

Okay so I’m not sure about his dating experience, but as far as a know he doesn’t really have much either? in that case both of you could explore this new feeling together! 

So in conclusion this boy is very much in love and he can only hope that you feel the same. Both of you are a good influence o the other and that helps the two of you to grow together. He might have slightly more experience but that’s okay. I see no conflicts here, maybe the only exception being the fact that he can be rude towards you and you are sensitive, but he is quick to stop being rude once he sees why he is so wrong. And that will be the best decision of his life so far because not long after that he is very much in love for the first time in forever. Both of you are loyal to the other and jealousy means no issue. Well, after some conversation, that is. Both of you experience life together and theres always something to do, to see! 

[rilakoya]

No Place Like Home

A Perspective! and Reality!AU

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Raw honesty and social justice themes

A/N: Personal experiences ahead. I call it an AU because sometimes we’re so into escapism that reality feels like the fantasy. 

6:20 pm

“OMG, social media is so dead today!”

It’s Tuesday after the protests have begun, and my roommate is bitching and demanding his privilege. I like to believe that he means well, but he’s also a diva, and complaints are his forte.

“Well, it’s Blackout Tuesday-” I begin, but he cuts me off, eager to make his point, true to form.

“No, look, I get it. Really I do. But all I keep seeing is a black screen. I keep my phone on dark mode for a reason. I don’t want to have to keep downloading games because I need something to occupy my time today.”

Need. That’s definitely a feeling I’m familiar with. I need a sense of false security in order to leave my house and interact with others in a way that meets social expectations. I need a keen sense of self and social awareness and nimble cultural reflexes in order to ensure that I’m not perceived as angry or bitter in my responses to the way the world treats me. So what if I actually am, in fact, angry. Society has taught me that it deems my anger irrelevant, unworthy of notice, and I have been conditioned to recognize that showing it doesn’t get me what I want or need. Which makes me think again about my roommate’s commentary. He needs social media to be more lively, despite the fact that entire people groups are protesting unjust and inhumane treatment. And I need hope that my brothers won’t occupy body bags simply because they exist today.

I guess each person has their own struggles.

I’m a fiction writer. And at the risk of sounding boastful, I’m pretty good at it. But that’s just because good fiction requires a healthy dose of imagination, and I’m a master.

I have to be.

Every day since I was a little girl, I wake up and imagine that the fair rules of engagement apply to me. I imagine that I may expect the same level of courtesy and respect as my fairer-skinned counterparts.

In school, when my teachers would unspokenly expect me to work twice as hard to receive the same level of acceptance, I imagined that they did the same with all the children. When my scores indicated that I was a highly gifted student, multiple grade levels above my peers, but was frequently accused of cheating, plagiarism, and other forms of academic dishonesty because my superiors were unable or unwilling to accept that a little black girl could have possibly produced such results, I imagined a world where education systems were tailored to students and where teachers and administrators saw the value in children rather than just their preconceived notions about them because of the color of their skin.

When people granted me interviews because of the “normal” name on my resume and the professionally “white” sound of my voice, only to thank me after minimal interviews and promise to call once they saw me, I imagined that they recognized that my professional experience and qualifications were worth more than the wage that their budget permitted, instead of acknowledging that they often chose to hire someone who was less qualified but whiter than me, and when they paid said person more, I imagined that I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed doing that type of job anyway or working at that company anyway. Even though it was the same at many companies.

When people tell me that I am “pretty for a Black girl,” or “too pretty to ‘just’ be Black,” as though being Black isn’t already the most blessed form in creation, I imagine that what they’re really saying is, “you’re so fucking gorgeous that I don’t even know how to compliment you properly, so please forgive me while I babble like a moron and potentially insult you. I’m so awestruck that I just can’t help myself.”

I wrote my first smut during one of many unjust police stops, when the only purpose of the detainment was to harass me and remind me who was in control. I imagined that it was really a sexy roleplay and that I liked it. And when the trauma and anxiety of constantly wondering if I’m about to be stopped once again for Driving While Black threaten to be too much, I imagine that I’m really just in my house, writing it all down for a story. Even though the stories carry too much shame for me to comfortably share. I imagine that’s all just part of the process.

When I interact with the world, and no matter what, am told that I’m either “too much” or “not enough,” sometimes both at the same time, I imagine that what they’re really saying is that because I originate from the beginnings of creation, because I have both the secrets of the Earth and royalty in my blood, I don’t fit the mold, and they don’t know how to process my greatness. And this enables me to smile when I feel like shattering into a million pieces, when I’m reminded of how I don’t meet the social standard, how I don’t fit in.

Most of all, every day I imagine what it would be like to feel like I truly have a place on this vast Earth that I can safely call home. Home is where we are safe, where we are welcomed, where we belong.

I was born in Germany, but I don’t belong there.

I’ve lived in Mexico and Guatemala, but it’s not safe for me there.

Some of my ancestors were from Africa, but it’s a large continent, made up of many countries, all foreign to me because of cultural eradication, so I could visit, but really I don’t belong there.

My forebears were brought to the Americas as slaves, worked like dogs, and treated as less than animals, and although early settlers were considered “Americans” relatively quickly, after four centuries, I still don’t belong here.

I’m not even 40, but I was born during the Cold War, in a country that has successfully recovered from antisemitism, but not from antiblack sentiment.

Both of my parents were born before the Civil Rights Act was passed, in the middle of the Civils Rights Movement.

My grandparents were born near the end of the Great Depression and lived under Jim Crow law. My grandparents. The ones who told me stories while holding me on their knees, the ones who spent their lives sweating and striving for me to have better.

My grandma’s grandma was a slave. My dad remembers an aunt (a great-aunt) coming to his school in elementary to talk about the fact that she had been born a slave.

I think that people forget that it wasn’t that long ago, forget that the tyranny and oppression has gone on for so long.

They forget that Europeans have been enslaving Africans since the 15th century. For those who hated school, that means the 1400s. Slaves were brought to the Americas as early as 1503. The only reason we didn’t reach the country we now call the U.S. until the early 1600s was because it took England that long to decide to colonize the area.

They forget that in my great-great-grandparents’ time, in my great-grandparents’ time, in my grandparents’ time, at the time my parents were born, I could have been beaten, raped, falsely accused, cheated, ignored, taken advantage of, or killed just for the color of my skin.

They forget that, 401 years later, 155 years after the Civil War, 157 years after the Emancipation Proclamation, 152 years after the 14th Amendment, 57 years after MLK marched, 56 years after the Civil Rights Act was passed, nothing has changed.

They forget that it is our American right to speak out, to decry our oppression.

The First Amendment says that we have the right to freedom of speech and press, that we have the right to peaceably assemble and ask the government for a solution to our complaints of unfair treatment. But we are silenced, gassed when we protest peacefully, and our cries for justice have been ignored for generations.

The Second Amendment says that the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed. Yet time after time, legally armed, law-abiding Blacks are arrested or shot just for being a person of color in possession of a gun, while white gun owners can brandish their weapons freely without fear of being shot or unjustly detained.

The Fourth Amendment says that citizens may not be subject to unreasonable search and seizure. It’s where the concept of a search warrant comes from. Yet Blacks and other people of color have been subject to racial profiling and racially motivated searches, frisking, and seizure of property for as long as we have been citizens of this country.

The Sixth Amendment says that citizens have the right to a public and speedy trial, by an impartial jury, to know what we’re being accused of, to be confronted by the witnesses against us, and to have the opportunity to gain witnesses in our favor, and to have the right to an attorney in our defense. This is one of the biggest jokes. People of color remain in cells for weeks and months before trial, and are often coerced into plea bargains for crimes they didn’t commit in the first place, just so they can get out of jail sooner rather than run the risk of being remaining in jail for months, only to face a courtroom that is predisposed against you because of stereotypes and shady police records, with a public defender that is overworked at best and disinterested or corrupt at worst, resulting in extremely long sentencing with little to no account for the time the individual has already been incarcerated, seemingly as a penalty for refusing to take the fall and essentially ���wasting people’s time”.

The Eighth Amendment says that “excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.” I could laugh if it weren’t such a blatant lie. Bail is disproportionately higher for people of color than for whites, as are the fines, and while cruel and unusual punishments may be subjective, I would argue that legalized slavery for a criminal population that is disproportionately comprised of Blacks and people of color AND murder by law enforcement before even reaching a judge BOTH qualify as cruel and unusual, particularly since it’s extremely notable how many white people, even accused or convicted of especially heinous crimes do not meet this fate, while a Black person could do so for merely moving wrong during a traffic stop.

The Thirteenth Amendment abolished slavery and involuntary servitude except as a punishment for crime. However, the only thing this changed for Blacks was the beginnings of racially motivated mass incarceration, starting from 1865 until the present.

The Fourteenth Amendment says that anyone born or naturalized in the United States is a citizen of the USA.  It also says that “no State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”

There are 20 other Amendments as of 2020, but this Amendment alone is the root of the problem. Black Americans are just that- Americans, and yet, we are DENIED equal protection under the law. We are DEPRIVED OF LIFE, LIBERTY AND PROPERTY, without due process of law.

But people seem to forget that Blacks are American citizens, too. And so, they seek to preserve their peace and forget to care.

So, as I turn up my headphones to tune out my roommate’s irritatingly ironic assertions of oppression, I turn my attention to the places where I have a voice, to remind people that this movement is more than just a lofty idea or the overreaction of a group of people that’s too sensitive or hung up on the past. I remind them that the problem is that the actions and attitudes, the injustices and imbalanced systems are still happening NOW, in the present, mid-2020. That’s why we can’t stay silent. Why no one can. I use my influence to remind the world what those who came before me died to obtain:

“We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence of the good people. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. The Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the [blatant racist or the white supremacist] but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice. Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”

- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., excerpted out of order from sections of a letter from Birmingham Jail, Alabama, 16 April 1963

I remind those who care to listen that I exist in this world, hated and unwelcome. My very existence is one of danger and risk, especially if I choose to be myself. For me, there is no place like home.

I remind the world that I can’t breathe, and that for me that’s not just a catchphrase; it’s not just a concept to use for merit mongering or fitting in. It’s the fear that chokes me, the anxiety that suffocates my hopes and dreams. For me, it’s a reality.

[leagueofidiots]

I'm great at keeping us occupied at least

Heya, so I had a rough Thanksgiving and started that draft I've talked about...after certain things happening I no longer really want to work on it anymore, but enjoy what used to be a good concept! Still can't do the "keep reading" thing, sorry

No trigger warnings, just know this is after my NaNoWriMo, but you can read it without context just fine. Some Shigadabi and Magnetmagic, but nothing huge

"Everybody pack up your crap, we need to drive up to Sapporo," says Shigaraki, laying Father over his face.

"Why can't Kurogiri just take us? And why do we have to go anyway?" Toga groans.

"He's not feeling well, so I don't want to overwork his quirk. We're going because I said so."

Twice lowers the bottom half of his mask to cover his mouth. "Whatever you say, boss!" He begins shoving various things into a knapsack. "I just wanna lay around and do nothing!"

Dabi slowly gets off of his bar stool. "Oi, creep, you know I get car sick, right?"

"What?" He continues placing hands over his upper body. "Since when?"

"Since I made a slightly large turn. Personally, I think he just likes whining," says Spinner, nose pointed up to the air.

"Well we just won't make any 'slightly large turns' then." Kurogiri gives him a sideways glance, but Tomura promptly ignores him. "Toga, I'm serious. Get up. You're not getting out of this."

Magne pulls up the younger girl by the arm. "Who's driving? I'll have to take a pass, I don't have a license."

"You're in your thirties, how do you not have a licence?" asks Twice, standing at the door like an eager boy scout.

"My parents took mine when I got my pronouns and name changed, and then I committed two murders. That sort of eliminated the option." 

"Oh." He shrinks sheepishly. "Well, I'd say they had it coming then. Murder is not a good way to solve your problems, Kenji!"

She shrugs. "I have Pringles, you think I should bring them?"

Compress grins, debating between his masks. "Oh, absolutely. I would still like to know our business in Sapporo though, Shigaraki. It could affect what I wear."

"Well, I'm hoping to avoid the public once we're up there, so bring one of the ones you can stuff in your bag."

Dabi looks at his boss in disgust. "Really? We're stuffing things in bags, and you're bringing all fourteen of your corpse hands?"

"You say that like you're not a walking chunk of rotting barbeque as is, player two."

The black-haired villain shrugs. "Fair enough. Just don't make me carry the bag or anything."

"So can I drive?" asks Suichi eagerly, trying to get back on topic. "I really love feeling the power of a car under my hands."

"If you've already made Dabs blow chunks, I don't think that's a great idea," says Toga, digging knives out from under the couch cushions.

Spinner pouts. "Fine."

Kurogiri finishes a drink he'd made for himself, and looks around at his murder babies. "Is everyone all packed? I am sorry I couldn't make us a warp gate."

"It's no prob, Kuro, we all feel under the weather sometimes," says Jin, back to looking like he's waiting for Disneyland and not a sixteen hour drive from Yokohama to Sapporo. "I blame you for my suffering."

"We're all packed," says Atsuhiro loudly, finally placing a mask over his face. "Which car are we taking?"

Over the past several weeks, the league had stolen a lot of cars. Toga said a crime that took such thought and planning was basically pointless, but Jin liked hotwiring cars, so what else was there to do? So the league now had five vehicles, including a baby blue minivan, a pink bug, an orange pickup truck, another minivan (this one white, it was Tomura's favorite), and a bright green sports car. Compress had them stored as marbles in one of his coat pockets.

"The minivan," says Shigaraki, grin creeping past Father's fingers. "You know which one. And I'm driving."

"Shotgun," calls Dabi, sulking over to the door. "One more window to look out of as I try to keep my insides where they belong." Tomura rolls his eyes.

"So, are we gonna play any road trip games?" asks Toga, considerably more excited than when Magne had to drag her out of her chair.

"I dunno, what did you have in mind?" The tone in their boss' voice suggests he's going to turn down whatever she says, but Himiko never has been good with his social cues.

"Truth or dare! Twenty questions! Spin the bottle! Two truths and a lie! Would you rather! Kiss, marry, kill! Concen---"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" he snaps. "Whatever, just pick one. Maybe it'll stop Dabi from puking his guts out in my stolen car."

As Compress expands the white van in the alleyway next to the League's hideout, Toga cheers. "Jin, what do you want?"

"I don't care. Two truths and a lie!" He quickly clambers into the car, seizing the back left window seat.

"Sounds great!" She shuffles in next to him. "Kuro, you start!"

He lets out a short sigh. "Yes, alright, fine. I suppose I can come up with something."

Dabi hesitantly gets into the front seat, setting his own empty knapsack by his feet. "This better not get weird, or I'll just hop out of the window."

Shigaraki gives his boyfriend a pointed glare as he takes the wheel in his half-gloved hands. "I told you, you're not allowed to make jokes like that anymore. You worry me."

"Sorry," he says dryly, not sounding very sorry at all. "I'll just eat all my Altoids at once then."

The rest of the team piles in, Suichi next to Toga; Compress, Magne, and Kurogiri in the middle row. "Why wear our villain costumes if we're being discreet when we arrive?" asks Spinner, struggling with his scarf.

"To scare civilians when we stop for food. I hate lines," says Tomura, starting the car.

"Are you sure you know how to drive?" asks Jin, hand raised. "I have complete faith in ya, boss man!"

"Yes, I know how to drive, I've been playing racing games since I was younger than Toga!" he snaps.

"Okay, okay, go," says Himiko, smacking her hand on Kurogiri's shoulder.

The purple void thinks as Shigaraki pulls into the street, already scratching at his neck. "Hm...Alright, I'm ready. Number one: I am twenty-eight years old. Number two: my real name is Morimi Yoshiano. Number three: I have a scar on my eyebrow that makes it look like I shaved a slit in it to be edgy."

Magne laughs. "That third one has to be the lie."

He shakes his head, sending swirls of mist into the backseat. "Entirely true."

"Number one is," rasps Tomura. "If that were true, I would have met you when you were thirteen or so. Possible, but unlikely."

"Well, I suppose it's fitting you guessed it. Is it your turn then?"

"'Morimi Yoshiano'. That sounds off for some reason. I think I'll stick with 'Black Fog'," says Compress.

There's a murmur of agreement across the car. "Okay, I think I'm ready. My hair used to be black, I hate Sonic the hedgehog, or I've never been in a movie theatre."

Dabi turns to him with a "ha". "I know for a fact your hair was black as a kid. And everybody hates Sonic, so---"

"Excuse me, what?" Tomura almost swerves into the next lane as he turns to his now-green-tinged boyfriend. "Everybody hates Sonic?!?"

"Face the street, creep, and stop treating this like bumper cars," he says in a wavering voice.

Shigaraki faces forward. "Sonic was and is an iconic video game, vital to the development of---"

"Was it the lie or not?" whines Toga.

He huffs. "Yes, it was the lie. Your turn."

"One: I used to think Tomura was cute. Two: I've eaten dog before. Three: One time I stabbed Dabi's arm while he was asleep, and he didn't even notice."

Kurogiri looks back, slightly disturbed. "I'm not sure which answer I want to be correct."

"I don't think you'd eat a dog," says Jin, though he sounds unsure.

"That's what she wants you to---" A weird noise from Dabi cuts Spinner off. "Gross, man."

Dabi tosses a mint at his teammate's head after popping one in his mouth. "Shut up. I can't help it."

"This is getting boring, you guys are being too easy," says Toga. "The lie was the dog one."

"So what now?" ask Twice. "I am perfectly content!"

"I dunno, why don't we play spin the bottle like you suggested earlier? It's certainly high risk," says Magne.

"High risk? What do you mean?"

She grins, adjusting herself in her seat. "Well, we have a gremlin with crusty lips, a queasy piece of bacon, me, Sako, a void, a sociopath, Deadpool, and a lizard. There's not really any solid wins besides my boyfriend, and that's brought down by the fact that his not-singleness makes it awkward."

Suichi grins. "Like a game of chicken. I'm in."

"I wouldn't call myself a void, but alright, I guess."

"Isn't Himiko a minor?" asks Shigaraki, itching his neck.

"You're concerned about that but not---" Dabi hiccups, "---not driving with a hand over your face?"

Tomura huffs and takes the hand off, tossing it onto Dabi's lap. "Happy? Now I may be a criminal, but I have, like, morals."

"Oh, come on, Shiggy. I'm consenting. And it's just a little kiss," she whines. "I don't have any people my age to be my age around, you know? I want my teenage years to be as teenager-y as possible."

He stops joltily at a red light. "Alright, but if this is what we get arrested for, I blame you."

She grins. "Okay, just let me pull up the app!" Jin huddles over next to her for a minute as they type in names and adjust settings. "Ready! Who's spinning first?"

"What's the punishment if you pass?" asks Compress, taking off his mask and fanning himself with it.

"Hmmmmmmm." She taps her chin. "A good question."

"Whoever chickens out has to buy the person they didn't kiss something from wherever we stop," suggests Magne. 

Everyone groans. Everyone is broke. Even the author, writing this at 1 am after a mental breakdown is broke. The fourth wall is broke.

Anyway.

Toga presses the button on her screen, and the automated sound of a spinning game wheel sounds throughout the car alongside Dabi's groans of discomfort. "And I will be kissing...Suichi!"

The scaly villain groans. "Why me?" Still, he faces his left and takes the quick peck. "Okay, my turn." His clawed finger presses the button, and once again suspense fills the air. "Compress, that's you."

"Must I?" he asks dryly, turning around. The ordeal is over as quickly as the first round, and Compress removes his glove. "This is setting up to be a long road trip." The clicking begins once again, and finally lands on Kurogiri's name.

"Whoaaaa," crows Jin. "Are you gonna have to deactivate your quirk? We don't want his face going through. That would be hilarious!"

Kurogiri tenses. "Um. Well, there is always the option of buying you something."

"We're all broke and you know that. Come on, it isn't that bad." The magician pulls his glove on, leaning over his girlfriend.

"Yeah, besides, we wanna see your face! It's like a fun little mystery!" says Toga, leaning forward on her elbows.

Tomura glances back. "You don't have to if you don't want to, Kuro."

"No, no, they have a right to know what I look like. It's waited long enough," he says with a sigh.

Dabi, bag held lazily in one hand, turns around slowly, trying to act apathetic. Kurogiri rolls down his window, letting a gust of air in, and the fog around his slowly dissipates. 

"Whoa, you're kinda hot, in a weird, battle-worn kind of way," says Jin. "That's a lot of damage! And we're gonna repair it using flex tape!" He puts a banana sticker on the man's forehead.

Kurogiri peels the sticker off slowly, taking a few purple hairs out in the process. His face is scattered with patches of light skin, making his dark eyes stand out against his features. "What is flex tape?"

And this is where I stopped oof

[softjeon]

Love Bite | Final

• Pairing: Vampire!Namjoon x Jimin • Genre: Angst / Smut | Vampire!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 15k | Co-Writer: Cat @cassiavioletblue | AO3 • Disclaimer: blood, abuse, (sexual) violence, mindcontrol, mentioning of death

↳  “You’re right. I was lying. I didn’t want to scare you. But I guess there’s not much to do now, right? I’ll tell you the truth,” Namjoon spoke softly, the grip around Jimin’s wrists loosened a little but not enough to free himself, “…because you deserve it, because I pull you into a lot of shit right now just by being here. I am a vampire, Jimin.”

« previous chapter | masterlist | Character Sheet

Jimin sat in the copy room, sipping on a cup of a coffee while he was working through a few documents. He had been ignoring Namjoon all morning, not talking much to him but the necessary. Jimin was still hurt from last night. With another angry push he stabled two papers together, proceeding to the next one until...

“Ah!“ Jimin hissed in pain, looking down at his finger. How the hell had he managed to get the metal clips into his finger. Very carefully he pulled it out and instinctively put the little wound to his mouth to keep from bleeding... or alarming Namjoon if the smell would reach him. He succeeded with that but instead he had brought another vampire on him.

Yoongi, who had hidden in the copy room all morning - the room where Jimin was angrily stapling Photocopies together at the moment - made himself known by downright laughing at him. “What exactly are you doing there? To think that this is what you’re getting paid for… Namjoon must really love you if he keeps you around while you can’t even handle a simple stapler without hurting yourself. Don’t use the coffee machine please or you might get yourself killed,” He teased him without holding back. “I wish,“ Jimin hummed in response, staring at the wound on his finger to see if it still was bleeding. “You...wish?” Yoongi looked at him questioningly - however Jimin’s next question made it quite clear what this was about.

“Yoongi?“ The younger looked up at the vampire, not even caring that he'd been teasing him. “Just hypothetically...if you would have fallen in love with Taehyung as a human...and he would have asked you to turn him, to be with you...would you have done it?“ He tried to be subtle, but at the way Yoongi sighed and pulled in a chair to sit down next to him, Jimin was sure that Yoongi knew. Maybe Namjoon had told his friend about his crazy idea already? What if Yoongi felt the same way?

“You asked Namjoon to turn you, right? And he said no?” When Jimin confirmed he continued. “You didn’t exactly ask the right person for this. I don’t half have as much qualms about this as Namjoon. But we are from different decades, we drink blood differently and - we also got turned in different ways. I don’t think you talked to Namjoon in detail about how it happens? How one is supposed to be turned? You might have seen it with Taehyung or… how I reacted to him. The way I would have protected him from practically everything and everyone the few hours after I turned him. It’s something instinctual. Like feeding. And the newborn very much needs it, someone who’s there, who tells him what happens, that how he feels is okay and that it will get better. Someone who shows him how to feed, how to live again. It’s quite the change. But sometimes… sometimes it goes wrong. And Namjoon… he was left alone after he had been turned. Some go insane after being turned, even with someone to guide them by their sides. Namjoon had no one. And he honestly wasn’t far from madness when I met him. There was barely anything left of his humanity. I think… don’t tell him I said that, but I think that’s the main reason why he holds onto his little rules so tightly. He’s afraid of becoming feral again. Even though there is no reason to. He made it through. But I guess he would rather starve then be like this again. And he would never ever risk to have you feel like he did back then. I know this is no excuse. But maybe you’ll understand his decision a little better now.”

Jimin was blinking at Yoongi. He hadn’t expected that. Namjoon had always seem so perfect to him.

“Y-you found him?” Jimin was stunned, trying to process what Yoongi just told him about how Namjoon got turned. Nonetheless, he had settled on his decision a while ago. “I understand, but Yoongi…,” Jimin sighed deeply, “This is my decision and I wouldn’t be alone. He would be there.” Jimin’s bottom lip was trembling as he tried to hold back the hurt. “I wouldn’t stand to know that he would leave me. I don’t want to be old and wrinkly,” Jimin tried to not show much it was affecting him, but his voice was starting to shake, “I have no one else but him and you guys. I would die alone. I am not sure if I believe in faith or anything alike but maybe I was never made for this life after all. There’s nothing I haven’t done in my human life, yet that I can’t do with being a vampire. I don’t want to be alone. I have suffered so much.” He wiped away a tear that fell from his cheek, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze, “I will forever be a target, won’t I? With being human...I am nothing but that. If Namjoon can’t do it,...then...I...can ask someone else. Taehyung….You...or Hoseok!”

“For the love of all that is holy to you humans, please don’t ask Hoseok. After all he’s done to you, you don’t want to get yourself into a position where you are totally at his mercy. Remember how you felt for your family? That’s how you would feel for him. Just… amplified, as if you were a child again and Hoseok is showing you the world through his eyes. Believe me you don’t want this as Namjoon’s companion. And Tae… he’s not ready for that yet. He might accidentally kill you and never get over it. I don’t want that either. So, if you are really that desperate and you really don’t see any other options in this then  - before you go to Hoseok or Tae - I’ll do it. But I will choose your cause of death. And do me a favor. Bevor you actually go through with it - tell Namjoon. Give him a chance to bid his farewell to your humanity. Or maybe even to change his mind. He will be hurt if you let me turn you without him having a say in this.”

Jimin bit his lip in thought. Yoongi was right, he didn’t want to be at Hoseok’s mercy again. With Yoongi he would be fine. With a smile, he nodded, jumping up from where he sat and embraced the vampire in a hug. “Thank you,” The human said repeatedly, jumping in excitement. He took the stapled files and got up to proceed to work, when he suddenly came to a halt. A light bulb lit up in his mind and Jimin grinned, when an idea popped into his head how he could maybe persuade Namjoon into turning him, nonetheless.

Walking into Namjoon’s office, Jimin greeted his boyfriend with a smile and placed the papers onto his desk, before walking around it. “Don’t mind the bit of blood on one of the copies. I stapled my finger,” Jimin said nonchalantly and got up on his boyfriends lap without further explaining and turned to kiss him. Heatedly and deep, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ in between for being so whiny.

To say Namjoon was surprised would have been an understatement. Jimin had gotten from not talking to him and ignoring him to sitting in his lap and kissing the breath right out of him. Furthermore, the staple incident left him confused. He wouldn’t mind to get a lick of that little wound and with it a taste of Jimin’s blood, but his mouth was absolutely occupied right now. And with the way Jimin was plundering his mouth he didn’t seem to plan on letting him breathe or use his mouth anytime soon.

“Just...wanted...to...say,” Jimin was accentuating every word with a kiss,” That...I love you.” He pulled off his boyfriend, turning his attention back onto the desk as he leaned over a little, reaching for Namjoon’s organizer. “Also, I came to work,” Jimin said, but kept in front of Namjoon, leaned over and butt in perfect view while he was simply opening the leather book and start writing down notes from calls and a few new dates for meetings. He was hoping to keep Namjoon occupied with the view he was presenting to write down a certain type of meeting. One that would require all of his attention. With him. But that Namjoon didn’t know. Jimin smirked. He needed a few days to prepare it all, but outsmarting Namjoon would be the only way to make him listen to the younger. He didn’t want them to end up fighting again. And if that meant, writing a thought out name as a bait into Namjoon’s personal organizer then so be it.

“Hm? That’s… Thank you. I love you too.” The vampire was still a little confused, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. Also, he had to use all his self-control to not reach out and cup Jimin’s ass that was presented to him in all its plump, deliciously firm glory. He wasn’t so sure if Jimin was really over his ‘please turn me into a vampire’ idea but he sure as hell wouldn’t address this topic on his own so as long as Jimin didn’t want to talk about it either he would happily pretend that they had never spoken about this at all. “I’m not sure I’ll get a lot of work done if you continue to ‘help’ me in the office like this - but I guess that’s what afterhours are for.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to do after hours, huh?” Jimin arched his back beautifully and turned around to lean against the desk. “I am sorry to disappoint you Mr. Kim but I have to get my work done or else my boss might punish me for overworking myself.” He giggled softly and before the vampire could come closer, he kissed his neck (because Namjoon was way too tall to kiss his nose softly) and turned around with a swing in his hips. “I wrote down your new meetings for this week,” Jimin called out, “Don’t come too late tonight. It’s always so cold waiting alone and naked in bed.” He made a show of pursing his lips, shivering slightly. “You aren’t, I meant me, because when you distract me like this I’ll have to work more afterwards to catch up with what I missed while I was busy fantasizing about you,” He clarified and then just wordlessly blinked at Jimin who did his best at making sure he was absolutely, truly distracted from work. Kissing, teasing, making a show - and then more or less a promise of naked cuddles tonight? Fighting with Jimin wasn’t so bad if it meant he got this kind of attention and flirting from the younger half a day later. Winking teasingly, Jimin waved happily and returned to his desk. But there was something else than work on his mind. He needed to prepare a meeting.

Jimin had gone early, working on his project from home eagerly. Only Taehyung and Yoongi knew about what he was doing. He was cautious to not get caught by Namjoon that could find his preparations and had access to all of his documents at work. At home however, Namjoon respected Jimin’s privacy as always so it was easy to hide things from him. Jimin had a plan of gathering every information that he could about being turned into a vampire, calling Yoongi and Taehyung over to help him. He wanted to be prepared and show Namjoon that he knew what he was getting himself into. Just before Namjoon would come home, Jimin pushed the new folder with all the information he could find about vampires deep into his underwear drawer and proceeded to get ready for the night. Jimin crawled onto the bed, loving the feel of the silky sheets against his naked skin when he laid down. Part two of his plan (maybe not that necessary but Jimin loved the fun aspect of it), was to distract Namjoon as much as he could and what better and more fun way to do it like this.

Namjoon had finished his work schedule on time but it still meant that he would get home two hours later than Jimin and as the younger had left work earlier it had been even longer since the human had walked through his office like the perfect distraction. When Namjoon turned the key, it was silent and he wondered if Jimin was reading or still working (sometimes he brought work home and Namjoon hated it because he felt like their home should be a stress-free zone) - or if he really waited like he had hinted at earlier, sleepy and naked and ready for Namjoon to devour. He found out only seconds later when he walked into the bedroom, seeing Jimin on his stomach, a book on the floor right next to the bed, his arm hanging loosely from the edge. A sigh fell from the human’s lips as he pulled his hand closer again, obviously asleep. The blanket was only halfheartedly draped over his body, hiding only bits and pieces but revealing Jimin’s naked butt just like Namjoon loved it. If it was on purpose or not Namjoon couldn’t tell, but Jimin had been waiting for him just like he had promised.

Carefully he slid into bed, pulling the cover over them both - except for Jimin’s behind. He massaged the firm flesh gently, worrying that the younger might have gotten cold but he was sleep-warm all over, so Namjoon could indulge himself in groping Jimin without having to think about Jimin’s health. His hand wandered lower, just a little in between his cheeks, teasing Jimin’s entrance while he already thought about how he should take him. A soft moan fell from Jimin’s lips, as he could feel the tingling sensation down his spine, but it didn’t wake him. Instead it fitted perfectly into his dream, imagining his ‘forever’ life with Namjoon while he was moving his bottom to get rid of the tension that was starting to form in the pit of his stomach. He pulled the cushion a little closer, mumbling something inaudible as he shifted closer to Namjoon on instinct.

The positive reaction spurred Namjoon and so he slowly, carefully pushed Jimin’s thighs a little further apart. they had talked about this, how Namjoon had explicit permission to touch Jimin in whichever way he wanted while the other was asleep (after Namjoon had freaked out while he had unconsciously almost bit Jimin in his sleepy morning state, not realizing that Jimin was even further gone than him). It had felt strange to touch Jimin in such a vulnerable state but after he had realized that Jimin thoroughly enjoyed it he had found that he liked it just as much, knowing that even in his most honest and unconscious state Jimin trusted and wanted him so much that he could get aroused without even really waking from it.

Jimin moaned softly into the cushion when Namjoon prepared him, careful and soft, leaving a few kisses on Jimin’s spine. It was making the younger shiver, goosebumps appearing on his skin. He smiled in his sleep, moving his butt to get more of whatever was making him feel so good. In his dreams, Namjoon was over him, telling him how much he loved him, their bodies intertwining and Jimin’s body was reacted to every bit of imaginary in his head. It mixed blissfully with the soft touches of Namjoon’s hands, the feel of the stretch that made him whimper in his sleep. The soft whispered ‘I love you’s’ weren’t so much a dream as what the vampire was whispering in Jimin’s skin in between kisses. He had kissed the younger’s body all over, from his neck to right above his lower back where he stopped to teasingly bite into the plump flesh of his ass. “If you don’t wake up soon I’m going to take you like this, all soft and pliant and willing.” His voice had become gravelly because although he wasn’t fully hard yet his hunger for Jimin’s blood had awoken and with it the desire to just take.

The bite was what made Jimin blink his eyes tiredly, but before he could mumble something to Namjoon, the vampire manhandled him easily, pulling his back against his body. It was easy to move Jimin like this, hooking his leg over his own to make Jimin spread open for him. He had no time to react, when he could feel Namjoon’s fingers stretching him out and Jimin moaned loudly. He could barely keep his eyes open, in a state between dream and awake, while Namjoon was handling his body however he wanted. “M’ you took s’ long,” Jimin slurred a little, smiling at the sweet sensation of Namjoon working him up. “You sure? I didn’t prep you longer than usual,” Namjoon deliberately misunderstood Jimin’s comment to make the younger pout so he could kiss the pout right off of his face. “You’re so cute like this, all sleepy and heated and willing to go with whatever I want from you. I hope you know that there will be no whining allowed in case you can’t sit later. You brought this upon yourself with prancing around the office like that and riling me up. One could think you really wanted my cock tonight…”

“I always want y-,” Jimin’s words got cut when Namjoon pushed into him hard. His eyes closed, head fallen back – the perfect position for the vampire to take. He loved this position, holding Jimin tight to his body, thrusting into him deeply while he could easily bite into his neck giving the human no chance to escape his grip. His vampire instinct hummed in satisfaction each time. Jimin just let Namjoon take from him, feeling high off the poison in his body and the pleasure that came with it. He was shaking from it, holding onto the vampire to give himself some kind of leverage. As much as he enjoyed it to make sweet, sweet love to Jimin when the other was feeling like he needed gentle reassuring as much did he like to let go when he was truly hungry. Jimin took him so well, even when he was rough and passionate and more hungry desire than softness. He bit blooming bruises into his neck and sighed at the taste of Jimin’s blood, heady and sweet, with a certain tinge to it that was simply and inexplicably ‘Jimin’. Greedily he lapped it up, all of it, while fucking the younger six ways to heaven.

…

Jimin could still feel the bruises on his hips from it days after. He loved it. Sometimes it let him daydream again and Jimin had to snap himself back into reality. Pulling at the collar of his dress shirt in a nervous habit, Jimin was staring at the clock, each ‘tic’ making his heart jump a little.

Jimin had prepared to confront Namjoon one last time. He had gathered every bit of information that he needed to persuade his vampire boyfriend to bite him and turn him. Biting his lip, he was only worrying about one thing. Namjoon’s rejection. Of course, he had Yoongi, who had offered to turn him but what if he was angering Namjoon a lot more than he thought he could. What if he would leave him? Decide not to be with him, despite being turned then. He gulped heavily, trying to push down every negative thought.

Taehyung was singing to himself quietly while he was preparing the meeting in Namjoon’s office. He could hear Jimin’s nervous heartbeat all the way to where he was standing. So, when Namjoon came into his office, he instantly threw his hands up, greeting the other rather loudly.

Namjoon was a tiny little bit overwhelmed by this enthusiastic greeting, flattening his tie after to make sure he was still business ready. “What are you doing here, Tae? I don’t think you’d be interested in what the “society of water cleanliness” has to say about new standards for business plumbing in future company buildings, would you?” He looked at the carefully prepared table. “Thank you for getting everything ready for the meeting though. Is Jimin on his lunch break?”

“Yeah, kind of…late lunch and stuff. You know…humans and their food, right?” Taehyung giggled and turned to walk out of the room, but not before pointing at his desk. “Don’t touch the folder with the offering in front of you until the customer says so. He wants you to keep an open mind,” Taehyung pointed two fingers at his eyes and then back to Namjoon, making sure he would know that he was watching him – but only left his boss confused and worried about Tae’s sudden weird behavior.

On the outside, Jimin was waiting for Tae to get back to him, giving him a last reassuring pat on his bottom, making him squeal. The human took a deep breath, before he finally knocked on the door, waiting for Namjoon’s approval to come in.

“Humans… food... right.” Namjoon furrowed his brows and reached out for the folder - then he hesitated and withdrew his hand. As silly as it might be to follow Taehyung’s seemingly crazy command the younger must have had a reason to say so after all. He would be able to wait a few more minute. His business partners should be here soon anyway. Outside the door he hear someone squeal and if Taehyung hadn’t told him that Jimin was on his break he could have sworn that it was Jimin. Then there was a knock on the door, and he concentrated on being all serious and business prepared - until Jimin was opening the door. “Ah, Minnie, this is not a good time right now. I’m having a meeting right now. What is it - can Taehyung help you with it maybe? He just went out the door.”

Jimin loved the nickname, smiling at Namjoon lovingly. His nervousness was gone for a second and only came back when he answered, “I know that you do. You’re having the meeting with me.” Trying to be confident, the human walked up to the tv, pushing his stick into the usb driver. “Before you say something, I would ask of you to just listen for a moment, please,” Jimin gazed at Namjoon with shiny eyes, his hands nervously holding onto the sheets he had prepared. His heart was beating so fast and loud that Namjoon was able to hear it perfectly. He cleared his throat, walking over to the light switch and turned off the light. The presentation on the tv screen was the only thing illuminating the scene.

Namjoon had opened his mouth to tell Jimin that if he wanted time with him he didn’t need to schedule fake meetings and what the folders were about but closed it immediately when he realized that this wasn’t about ‘spending time with him’.

“First of all, you should know that I love you,” Jimin’s voice broke a little and the younger cursed himself inwardly for feeling so emotional already. It wasn’t helping that he felt so anxious about Namjoon’s reaction. “I never have loved anyone as much as I love you and I trust you. Therefore, it is not my intention to anger you or make you feel frustrated with me,” He paused before clicking onto the next page showing a drawn picture of himself with vampire teeth. “Tae made this…,” Jimin chuckled softly, hoping to ease the tension a little, “I’ll just get right into this, okay? ….Here are a few reasons why you should turn me into a vampire.”

The vampire stiffened when he heard what Jimin had chosen to talk about and yet he didn’t interrupt him. The younger had apparently put a lot of thought in this so the least he could do was let him show whatever it was he had prepared.

The more Jimin was talking, the more confident he felt. He had showed Namjoon his family tree, told him about his childhood, the experiences he had made and that he wouldn’t miss out on something being a vampire. Then Jimin put up a picture of himself that slowly faded into an older version of himself until he was old and wrinkly looking, making the younger look at it with disgust. Nonetheless he kept going, stating facts and showing off what he had learned about being turned, repeating everything that the other vampires had told him. “I could protect myself then and… have better stamina,” Jimin shrugged his shoulders, trying to keep from smiling adding a quiet, “I wouldn’t pass out every time you go all out on me then.” Even in the dark, Jimin could see a smirk pulling at Namjoon’s lips and even though it quickly returned to his focused, hard gaze, he felt a little more confident.

“And you don’t have to be afraid of me going crazy,” Jimin hastily said, “Hoseok told me that it is very rare for newborns to go mad if they willingly made the choice and prepared themselves for the turn. I asked him if I could be turned in the mansion as well, as I learned that the less attraction there is the easier, I could get used to it all. I would be far away from the city. Not much humans around and a lot more vampires that could help.” He looked at Namjoon pleadingly, worrying his bottom lip when he turned to the next page.

“You talked to…” He broke off when Jimin hastily clicked onto the pointer, apparently scared that Namjoon wouldn’t let him finish his presentation if he would stop now. Nonetheless the thought of Jimin going to Hoseok of all people to talk about this didn’t sit well with him.

“There are also reasons why you shouldn’t turn me…,” Jimin said, his voice starting to shake when he clicked the button to make the text appear on the empty page, “First: You can’t drink my blood anymore. It would change, and you can’t feed off other vampires and I know you love the taste of my blood. And second and last: You don’t want me around forever.” Jimin couldn’t help but tear up when the last words fell from his lips, his heart pounding hard and aching with every second it took for Namjoon to say something.

“Scratch that last point off your list. You know that this is not true. And if you don’t then I’d like to remind you how many times I’ve told you that I loved you. And that you are my companion not some casual affair.” Namjoons voice was stern, almost cold. “You did miss a few points on your list though. You remember when I told you about how you would have to stay nourished? No more tasty food. No ice cream, no birthday cakes, nothing. Instead the choice between disgustingness or cruelty. Oh, and how about depression? I haven’t told you about vampires who end up killing themselves because nothing seems important when facing eternity and after a few hundred years you can feel really detached from people’s life, so they chose to end their lives. Or what if you fall out of love, hm? How long has your longest relationship been so far. Tell me please. And then tell me you know what you’re talking about when you promise me forever. There are the vampire hunters, the sensitivity towards sun, the difficulties that will come your way you are… you are so fucking young Jimin! And of course, Hoseok would advise you to let yourself be turned. He hates the thought of conscious human who know about us. It would rid him of a ‘problem’ if you would be one of ours.”

Jimin averted his gaze, when Namjoon was scolding him so bluntly but he took it, waiting and listening to his arguments. “But do you really think that would be me? Killing myself like that? I would have you, Tae and Yoongi. I wouldn’t feel alone with you,” Jimin tried to argue against Namjoon, but his voice was shaking, and he felt like losing this already. The tears were burning in his eyes, making it harder for him to see in front of him. “This…this is not about Hoseok or it being his decision. It is mine,” Jimin was almost shouting out of desperation, “I love you. Have never loved anyone else the way I love you.” He wiped over his eyes, laughing at himself quietly. “It was dumb to think that you could change your mind.” With teary eyes, Jimin pointed at the folder in front of Namjoon, “Open it. It’s my last offer.”

Namjoon opened the folder and found a piece of paper in it, no presentation, just a little bit of writing that told him that he could turn him with all the precautions and safety rules Jimin wanted to put up - or he would let Yoongi turn him. “Yoongi?” Namjoon laughed, humorless and bitter. “Did you ask him? Did you actually ask Yoongi if he would turn you behind my back? Why do you want to die so badly Jimin? You can’t just… you can’t just throw your life away like that!” Namjoon’s eyes were just as teary as Jimin when he jumped up, slapping his hand down on the table so hard it sounded as if a tree had just snapped in half. “I didn’t want to do it behind your back that’s why I’m telling you now that…,” Jimin had jerked violently from the slap, as if it ripped right through him.

“There is no way I will let him do that to you, you hear me? No way!” Then he stormed out, leaving the folder and presentation and Jimin behind.

Jimin sunk down onto his knees, when Namjoon was gone so fast leaving him confused and alone. The sobs broke through him, shuddering him and making him want to curl up right on the floor. He only noticed for how long he was frozen in his state, when the lights in the building switched off. He didn’t want to go home, too scared of facing an angry Namjoon again - but what choices did he have? So, Jimin took his jacket, wiping his tears away with the hem of his shirt and started walking all the way home.

…

Yoongi had his eyes closed, Taehyung curled up against him, while the older vampire was mindlessly caressing through his hair. He didn’t even blink an eye when he could hear Namjoon storming into the mansion from afar already. His angry growls and loud footsteps echoed throughout the whole building and Taehyung got up right away, mumbling something about not wanting to meet a furious Namjoon. Yoongi was still relaxed. He was only exhausted that he would need to play matchmaker again.

“Yoongi!” Namjoon came barging in, not caring about Taehyung who had sneaked out just in time. “I need to talk to you. Now!” As Yoongi didn’t seem to have any intentions to move into another position Namjoon just went on with it. “What the hell did you think when you told Jimin you would turn him? Are you out of your mind? Is one newborn not enough for you? Do you want to take him from me, is that what you want? If you have a problem with our relationship then tell me now and don’t try to influence Jimin by fucking killing him!”

Yoongi sat up a little, looking at Namjoon with confusion. “Taking Jimin away from you?” He huffed out, “You really think that is my intention? First of all, Jimin asked me for help and because I couldn’t let him go and ask Taehyung or even Hoseok…and yes, he said he would ask him, I’d say that I would do it,” He paused and raised a finger to make Namjoon listen to him, “Only if you would still refuse and it was still his wish after all. That is all I said.” He got up from the bed, walking over to the angry vampire. “What are you so scared of, Namjoon?”

Namjoon faltered, his anger deflating a little and instead settling for shock when Yoongi told him that Jimin had thought about going to Hoseok for his request. Still Yoongi’s nonchalance didn’t exactly help to calm him down. “What I’m scared of? Oh, let’s just think about for a second. Maybe I’m scared about Jimin dying in my arms because as you know not everyone survives the transformation. Or - wait - maybe I’m just scared of losing him to madness or the pressure it will put on him when he has to decide if he wants to hypnotize humans for their blood. Though maybe I’m just scared of him realizing it was a mistake and hating my for all eternity after. I bet every one of us knows at least one vampire who despaired from being immortal and destroyed himself, be it the slow and unobtrusive way or choosing the stake. And then there are so many other risk that I won’t even mention because if I’d list them we’d still be here tomorrow morning.“ Namjoon shook his head, “To me he is perfect as he are, Yoongi. Why can’t he see that? I don’t want to risk losing him just to give him something that might turn out to be his worst nightmare. I don’t want to kill him. Yoongi, I can’t kill him! I just can’t.”

Despite his own liking, Yoongi pulled Namjoon in and hold him tight in his embrace. “You won’t kill him. You wouldn’t let that happen,” He said quietly, soothing over his friends back before he pulled back a little, looking up at the taller one. “To him, being with you, is his deepest desire. His mind was filled with your presence way before you two were really a thing, remember?” Yoongi reassured his friend. “It is scary, so scary but it will be worth it. He is prepared. Jimin knows what he is doing, and that fact alone is helping immensely, and you know that.” Yoongi embraced Namjoon once more, pulling him in by his neck, “He won’t be alone. It will be different from your own experience, because he has you. One of the kindest, smartest and probably wisest vampires I’ve had the pleasure to call my friend. He has suffered enough.” Yoongi sighed deeply, when he gazed at his friend again. “It has to be you and you know it deep down, don’t you? You can’t bear the thought of being separate from him. Not now, tomorrow or ever in your eternal life.”

Namjoon had stiffened up when Yoongi had hugged him but the smaller had nipped his halfhearted attempts to get out of the embrace in the bud. “N... No, I can’t.. Yoongi, I can’t…,” His voice died out as Yoongi’s reassuring words washed over him. He hid his face at the youngers shoulder, trying not to get too close so that the silent tears that rolled down his face couldn’t drip on Yoongi’s skin. Just one mistake. One single mistake and Jimin would be gone. And it would be his fault.

“I am here for you. I will be right across the room, so you only need to call out. We could prepare it well. Go through it step by step,” Yoongi whispered, knowing that making plans and working out every logical possibility would make Namjoon feel safer, “And if you really can’t do it and it’s still Jimin’s desire then I will do it. But only with your permission.”

Namjoon felt awful. The logical part of his brain was reassured because everything Yoongi said made sense and seemed right though his fear of losing Jimin overwrite everything else. He could feel the sour taste of fear till right to his throat. Nonetheless and despite his inner turmoil he nodded. “Ok. You’ve won. I… I’ll do it. But please don’t tell Jimin yet. Let me sleep over it, just one night. If I can still life with taking that risk tomorrow I’ll tell him.” He disentangled himself from Yoongi, trying to wipe his face unobtrusively. “And next time you want to proof a point just tell me. Don’t let Jimin fake meetings and use power point presentations on me that contain Taehyung's scribbles. I can only take so much,” He added dryly.

“Sure thing,” Yoongi shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and yawned right after as if he hadn’t slept just a while ago, “But it wasn’t my idea with the presentation. Was all Jimin’s…Take your time, Namjoon. He will understand.” He waved Namjoon off, ushering him out of the room so he could happily fall into the bed again.

Namjoon followed his hint right away, grateful for the opportunity to have some alone time with his thoughts. He needed to think about this, really plan it through. When exactly would be the best time to do it, how should they do it best, did Jimin have a certain wish even though he hadn't talked about this in his presentation? Where exactly would be best; in the mansion for safety or at Jimin’s place for comfort - or something entirely else, like something wild, free and beautiful like watching a sunset at some lake. He had absolutely no idea! Maybe he should ask around, how others had done it or how the wished their own transformation had been.

…

Jimin came back to their apartment late, the moon on full display as he turned the key in the lock. He hadn’t expected Namjoon to be home, still his heart ached painfully when it was quiet in the apartment, they called their own. Jimin’s thoughts had been spiraling the past hour on his way home, thinking about Namjoon wanting to break up, being even more angry at him or him just ignoring the younger. All of it he couldn’t take. His eyes were red and puffy, when he prepared himself a tea in the kitchen, bringing it back into the living room with him. Jimin wanted to wait for Namjoon, listen to him, apologize and hope that he’d forgive him for being so selfish. But he just couldn’t stand the thought of being without Namjoon anymore. He leaned his head onto his hand, staring out into the night. The longer it took for the vampire to come home, the harder it got for Jimin to keep his eyes open. He rubbed them tiredly, his eyes burning from the tears and tiredness. He was fighting it, but in the end he lost it, falling asleep on the floor, with his head on his arms on the marble coffee table in the middle of the living room.

It was exactly how Namjoon found him when he finally came back home, the first soft sun rays peeking through the clouds. He looked at him, at all of which made Jimin human; his regular heartbeat, his rosy cheeks, his sleep warm body. The way he curled in on himself, so vulnerable yet so strong. Carefully he picked the younger up with ease, not sure if he was getting used to Jimin’s weight or if the younger was becoming lighter. So, he made a mental note to make sure Jimin was eating properly. He put him to bed right when the alarm clock was about to ring and Namjoon quickly stopped it from ringing Jimin awake. “I guess we should better give u a day off,” He murmured before gently kissing the younger’s temple before retreating back into the living room.

When Jimin woke again it was way past midday and he hastily jumped up from the bed, seeing stars for a second. He shook his head, trying to fight the sudden dizziness as he held onto the frame of the bed. When his gaze fell onto the empty bedside his heart sunk once more. There had been no sign of Namjoon lying next to him…but wait. Jimin couldn’t find a memory on how he had gotten into bed last night either, so it could only mean Namjoon was home. “Babe?” Jimin called for the other right away.

There was no answer, just a note on the kitchen table, together with a thermos bottle of coffee and a plate prepared with breakfast.

I’m at work. You looked exhausted so I let you sleep and gave you the day off. Stay home please and rest. We will talk tonight again about what you asked of me.

Love, Namjoon.

Jimin wasn’t sure how to interpret it, reading the lines over and over again. Was it something good? Something bad? Would he get scolded again or did Namjoon make up his mind? Either way, he happily took what Namjoon had prepared and munched on the food. It was a bit more than he could eat, so Jimin put the rest back into the fridge and took the coffee back to the couch with him. Cuddling up into a blanket he simply stayed there all day, only getting up to do the necessary around the apartment. He tried to keep himself and his mind occupied to keep from thinking about Namjoon’s possible meaning behind the text, but still couldn’t help himself analyzing the note with Taehyung via text. The later it got, the more nervous Jimin was again, his eyes going back and forth between the main door and the tv, zapping through the program at the same time.

If he was really honest with himself, then Namjoon started to stall a little bit when the end of his workday came in sight. As long as he wasn’t home he didn’t have to tell Jimin that he’d do it and before he had told him that he’d turn him he didn’t have to think about what it would be like to have Jimin dying in front of him. Still there was nothing else on his mind than this; how he could possibly live through seeing Jimin die - and knowing that he was the cause of it.

When he finally came back home, Jimin’s heart skipped a beat, his hands shaking. He hadn’t seen Namjoon in more than twenty-four hours and the tension between them was killing Jimin. So, he got up, quickly, trying to entangle himself from the blanket he had curled up in, but only made himself trip a little. Namjoon was there in a rush, holding him up and on his feet like he always did when the younger was having his clumsy streak again (unlike the vampire, who was only destroying things while being clumsy, Jimin mostly stumbled or just fell off chairs when his mind was occupied with something else). “Namjoon, I… I am so sorry,” Jimin hastily said as he reached out for his boyfriend, holding onto him tightly, “I didn’t want to anger you. I was so scared.”

“Scared? Scared of what?” Namjoon’s eyes looked tired as if he had fought endless wars in his mind today - and he had. All the parts that wanted to fulfill Jimin’s wish, that were able to honor his decision and his free will had been fighting against the fear, the memories of his past, his pessimistic side. It was exhausting. He just wanted to get it over with, tell Jimin that he would do it so that there was no more fighting in his head to do. If he told Jimin that his answer was yes there would be no turning back. Whenever he gave his word he stuck to it.

“That you would hate me. Leave me. I don’t know,” Jimin held onto Namjoon’s shirt, looking up at him worriedly. Reaching out for his cheek, he caressed him softly, soothing over his skin. “You look tired and I know it’s my fault,” He said quietly, the guilt eating his way up, making it harder for him to breathe. “I shouldn’t have brought it upon you. I was selfish and an idiot,” Jimin nuzzled his face against Namjoon’s neck in a weak attempt to hide the fact that he was tearing up again. “I just want to be with you. That’s all I want. I don’t care anymore,” The last words were a lie. He still cared about being with Namjoon forever, but if one meant losing him, Jimin didn’t even want to think about other options.

It was tempting, to just let Jimin believe that this was it and there would be no more discussions, to keep Jimin with him, alive and so utterly, beautifully human. Though it wasn't fair to him. This was obviously so important to him that he had asked others to turn him if Namjoon wouldn’t, going so far as to put his life in Hoseok’s hands. It would be best to just get it over with. Namjoon hesitated for one last second, breathing in Jimin’s sweet scent, something that would forever be lost to him as soon as his human body would be dead. With a last little kiss to his temple Namjoon took his face into his hand with a sad smile. “I’ll do it. If you want to be turned so badly then I don’t have any other choice in case I want to see you happy. Tell me how you want to die and… and I’ll make sure it won’t …you won’t be alone. I’ll walk you through it. I promised you eternity and if this is what you want then I’ll give it to you.”

Jimin stared at Namjoon in disbelief, his name a whispered breath fallen from his lips. He hugged the vampire tight, leaning his head onto Namjoon’s shoulder without saying a word. Instead he just held on tighter, his hands pulling Namjoon so close to him. They stayed like this what felt like an eternity already, before Jimin pulled off and Namjoon with him. “I love you,” Jimin whispered in a kiss, a sweet promise to him. “I trust you. Always have, always will,” He gazed into the vampire’s eyes, caressing his neck, his face, his beautiful, beautiful face that Jimin couldn’t wait to stare at forever. He placed soft kisses on his lips, leading the vampire into their shared bedroom. “Thank you,” Jimin whispered softly, his hands soothing over Namjoon’s chest.

“You won’t let me fall,” Jimin got onto the bed and on his knees to pull Namjoon close to the edge. His own breath hitched a little, when he unbuttoned Namjoon’s dress shirt, pushing it over his broad shoulders. He left a wet trail of kisses down the vampire’s neck to his chest. Neither could resist the passion between them, Namjoon felt the warm hungry desire flow from his body and the sweet, smooth rhythm of Jimin’s body as he moved, it was everything to him as his body reached deeper into his. He loved him. His heart ached with the love he felt for Jimin, how he gave himself over to him. They made love to each other all night, so slowly, so closely intertwined - being one. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” Jimin whispered, a moan slipping from his lips. Namjoon chuckled low, sliding against him, skin to skin, loving the feel of Jimin’s body against his own. Namjoon growled low, his arms slipped around him and held him to himself. He was willing to risk everything for him. Jimin belonged with him. Not even death could have him completely. He was his only. And he made love to him until they were both spent, lying in each other’s arms, heavy pants the only thing audible in the room.

“I...I want you to take from me,” Jimin spoke up after a while, making Namjoon open his eyes again, looking at him in confusion. “The way I want to die. My blood should be yours,” He mumbled, shifting closer to the vampire.

An involuntary little moan slipped from Namjoon’s lips. Drinking Jimin empty was like the greatest gift the human could give him. And although bleeding out normally wasn’t exactly a nice way to die it would be for Jimin as he would be practically filled with poison in the end. He wouldn’t suffer, he would be able to hold onto Namjoon the whole time and it might also make it easier for him to turn if there was already so much vampire poison in him.

“The bite it is then.” He carefully pushed some lose strands out of Jimin’s face to look at him. “I’m going to miss your warmth…,” He confessed, not really watching what he said because he had so overwhelmingly many emotions at once. He was grateful and touched and also a little sad and afraid and of course he longed for their eternity together, but he was also nervous about Jimin as a vampire would be. He would love him no matter what, that much was clear to him but still the other might change and it was just so many “what if’s” and “could be’s” in there that it made his head spinning just thinking about it. “Do you... do you have a special date that you want to choose for your last date as a human? Any special things you want to do before? I could take you out to your favorite restaurant. We could go somewhere with so many people that you get sick of them, that you long for a bit of peace and quiet. You won’t be able to be in crowds for quite a while after you’ve turned. It can be overwhelming, all the smell, the sounds, everything is amplified, and the hunger feels like it’s always present those first few weeks. But you’ll get through it. I know you will. Because I’ll never leave your site until you feel better, not even for a second.“

“No, I am fine. I never cared about crowds too much and you know I tend to forget to eat all the time anyways,” Jimin shrugged his shoulders, leaning his head on Namjoon’s chest, “We can still go out. I’d never say ‘no’ to a date with you. And we should do it whenever we feel ready. I want you to feel safe doing it, so let’s prepare it well and then decide on a date.” Gazing up at the one he called his love, Jimin smiled, “I know I will be okay.” Kissing Namjoon’s naked chest, he held onto him, closing his eyes and letting the exhaustion take over. He trusted Namjoon to be prepared and know what he was doing. He had absolutely no doubt about it going wrong in any way. Nonetheless, Jimin couldn’t hide the nervousness too well the closer the day was coming.

…

Namjoon was busy packing a suitcase with things for them to take to the mansion, while Jimin was nervously sipping on his tea. Jimin had let Namjoon decide the date and let the vampire prepare it all in the end, while he focused on his own stuff. Not freaking out for example. It was still scary to think that he would die and be turned into something new. But there was no doubt about his decision in his mind. Yoongi had been by Namjoon’s side the whole time, figuring out the best and safest way to turn Jimin and going through it step by step until he felt prepared enough.

Taehyung kept Jimin busy as long as the older vampires were talking, showing off to the human his new found ability. Every vampire had an ability that was different from their usual ones. Sometimes it was just a stronger version of the ones they had naturally, like Yoongi’s who’s mind-control ability had strengthen into a new one, where he could manipulate other people’s memories. Other times they were pretty rare like Namjoon’s. Only a few vampires in all of their history could shapeshift. And then there was Hoseok, who had the ability to use mind-control in a stronger, deeper and more cruel way than anyone else. He was the only vampire who could control the other minds of vampires as well. No one else was able to do that and no one really knew what else he was able to do. However, when Jimin saw Taehyung’s ability for the first time he was stunned, even if it was counted as an ordinary ability. Taehyung was fast. Very, very fast. He was so fast that everyone else was moving in slow motion for him. It was driving Yoongi nuts sometimes, when Tae used it to tease him again and only when the older growled, baring his teeth did he stop. For Jimin though, it was fun to play around with Taehyung in the garden of the mansion, while the older vampires were preparing his death. It took his mind off things for a while.

“3...2...1...Go!” Taehyung yelled and speed off, while Jimin ran, barely able to catch a breath from laughing so much. Tae had outstripped him easily and caught him by his waist, making Jimin squeal and giggle while the vampire was just running while he was propped over his shoulder. “Tae! Let me down!” He held onto Taehyung tightly even though he knew the vampire would never let him fall. It was a good precaution anyways, because only seconds later the young vampire came to a screeching halt right in front of his boyfriend and Namjoon. Jimin was still laughing and only when he recognized his upside-down boyfriend did he stop.

In the end Namjoon hadn’t chosen a certain date that had historical meaning as he had planned to but Jimin didn’t seem to mind at all. So, he had chosen the next full moon instead. He always liked the moons illuminating presence, it made him feel calmer, more ‘home’ as if the moon was shining all for him because he knew Namjoon couldn’t stare at the sun like that anymore, so he tried to be the vampire’s sun. He hoped it would give Jimin calm as well, something to focus on when the pain would get too much and holding him wouldn’t be enough. Namjoon had tried to think of everything, he had even taken chewing sticks with him, made of soft wood, something to bite onto in case Jimin would be cramping or if his fangs would show too soon and he would be at risk of biting his own tongue. He had bagged blood just in case, lavender and other nicely smelling, calming herbs that he wanted to decorate around the room while Jimin was turning so that the first thing he would smell when he would wake up wasn’t too much of what was going on in the next room but soft lavender instead. He also had blankets and cushions and an actual plushy to hold onto. It was a black bat about the size of a cat though he wasn’t sure if Jimin wouldn’t find it stupid, but he thought holding onto something might help. And even if Jimin ripped it in the process, this would be better than ripping his own skin.

Now they were standing there, the smile still on Jimin’s face while Namjoon looked worried, tense. He dreaded the moment he would actually have to do it and longed for it to be over at the same time. After it had been settled that Jimin would be turned and it was sure that he would lose his humanity one way or another Namjoon had dared to let himself think about a future with Jimin where they would be together for eternity. He had let himself dream of endless nights of walking in the moonlit streets together, going to the theatre, visiting so many museums, doing whatever they felt like because they had all the time in the world. It had made him happy to think about what they could be. Yet he was still scared, still rendered stiff and tense at the prospect of possibly losing Jimin right now and being the cause of it. He sighed deeply and shuddery before trying a smile, but it died on his face before it could fully show.

“It... it would be time now. It’s nighttime. The moon is showing. The room is prepared. We could…we could go there now. If you want.” He looked at Tae, taking in his smile, his confident posture, all this radiating happiness. Honestly Taehyung had been a massive help for him the past few nights just with being there. He was as young as Jimin, he’s had a similar life, the same job, the same friends and although he had died - and cruelly so - he was still happy. He had made it through, had built himself a life right away. He seemed comfortable, happy with who and what he was. And he was Jimin’s friend. So Jimin might have a chance to find the same happiness, to skip the horror and depression and the crippling loneliness Namjoon had felt when he had been reborn. Jimin would be safe and cared for and he was even doing it all willingly. There was nothing to worry about. It would be fine. Jimin would be fine. Namjoon relaxed a little though he couldn’t keep his eyes away from Jimin’s face for long. “Is there anything you would like to do before?”

Jimin nodded, reaching out for Namjoon’s hand to intertwine their hands. “Yeah, I’d like to take a shower first,” He said, hoping that it didn’t sound as stupid as he felt like it did, but running around with Taehyung made him quite sweaty and he wanted to feel good, feel fresh and ready to do this, even though he would get dirty afterwards again. He followed Namjoon quietly, peeking over his shoulder once in a while and seeing Taehyung with Yoongi. Just like the other vampire had promised, they would stay the night right next to their room just in case Namjoon needed him and though it made him feel safer, it also made Jimin a little scared about all the possibilities in which this could go wrong. In their room, Jimin went right for the bathroom to get himself ready. It was almost like a ritual to him. It calmed him. His heartbeat steady and just occasionally skipping a few beats because he was nervous. He dressed himself comfortably, but still wore one of his dress shirts, making him look like as if he was about to go out for dinner with Namjoon and not let the vampire kill him in a bit. When he finally stepped out of the room, Jimin stood in awe at the prepared room that he hadn’t paid close attention to before. “What...what is all this?” Jimin mumbled, a smile pulled at his lips when he reached for some flower arrangement.

Namjoon couldn’t decipher the mess of emotions in his chest when Jimin came out of the bathroom. He was dressed up and had a glint in his eyes that spoke about how much he was looking forward to it. He didn’t even look scared. Why wasn’t he scared, he was about to die, Namjoon would kill him now, oh god, he would have to kill him...

Namjoon tried to breathe against the feeling of choking up and coughed awkwardly to be able to answer Jimin as normal and calm as possible. The younger couldn’t see him freaking out. He needed to feel safe in this. Like everything was under control. “I tried to prepare this as best as I could so you can turn as easily as possible. You won’t realize most of what’s happening at first because everything will come at once, but I’ll make sure you can concentrate on each and every sensation without being overwhelmed. I asked Hoseok to clear this wing so there won’t be noises to hurt your ears. I plucked herbs and lavender to soothe your sense of smelling you won’t have to worry about. I got you blankets and cushion because you will feel cold and raw and like your nerves are aflame. I… I…” His voice trembled and then he hugged Jimin, held his body as close to him as possible, desperately holding onto the feeling of warmth and vulnerability and youth, everything that Jimin entailed. He could hear the others heartbeat and he almost cried with the knowledge that he would hear it stop in a little while. “You can still change your mind, no one would judge you, you can choose to stay alive Jimin. This is your last chance. If we do this I can’t stop in between, or you’ll die for good. This is it. This is your last way out if you want to stay human!” He kept his face buried in Jimin’s neck, the skin there so soft, so tender.

Jimin held Namjoon tight to him, kissing his cheek and just keeping him in his embrace. He didn’t say anything for a little while, knowing that this was a hard decision for Namjoon to make. When Namjoon gave him the last ultimatum, he pulled off a little. There were tears glistening in his eyes and he sniffled his nose a little, trying to keep it together but it suddenly felt too emotional.

“I love you, Namjoon. I want you, for now and forever,” Jimin whispered into a kiss. “I made my decision so long ago and I trust you.” He looked around the room again, his gaze wandering over the many things Namjoon had prepared, the little bat plushie (that reminded him awfully a lot about Namjoon) and even the flower arrangement that apparently Hoseok had sent for his ‘funeral’. It was perfect. Jimin felt safe. “I want to be a vampire,” He said at last and intertwined their hands to pull Namjoon towards the bed. The moon was illuminating the scene and Jimin had to reach out for his boyfriend. His skin glowing in the beautiful light. “I am…ready,” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second to keep his heart from beating faster. He couldn’t push down his nervousness completely.

“Okay.” Namjoon nodded, his face turning determined. He had tried everything he could. If Jimin really wanted this - then so be it. He sat down next to Jimin, placing a hand onto his heart. “Do you want to keep on your shirt? It will get stains. Is that okay?” He couldn’t believe that he actually warned Jimin about a stained shirt when he was about to end his life but apparently his nervous mind tried to hold on to normalcy. Jimin chuckled a little but nodded, “Yes, that’s fine.” He didn’t care about stains at all and Namjoon could put another shirt on him later if he was passed out, or they could do it when he was awake again. He had other things on his mind right now. Jimin easily followed Namjoon on the bed, not being able to resist to let his hand soothe over the satin sheets that the vampire had chosen. It felt so soft under his skin and Jimin shivered. It was quiet, only the ruffling of the bed sheets audible, when Namjoon pulled the human onto his lap – face to face.

“I love you,” Jimin whispered again, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. A soft brush of lips, a promise to forever be by his side, to trust him through everything. His arms embraced Namjoon’s, holding onto his strong shoulders, while the vampire held the human right to him. Soft kisses were placed along Namjoon’s jaw and Jimin placed another on his nose, his forehead and lips again, before he just leaned into the hug. He could feel how stiff Namjoon was. Every muscle locked up tight and Jimin quietly soothed him, his fingertips drawing little circles on the nape of his neck. Jimin placed one last kiss there. “I’ll be with you again, I promise.”

“Yes, you will.” Namjoon’s voice trembled and he kissed Jimin one last time, quick and sweet. “You don’t have to hold on. When you feel like you’re being pulled under don’t fight against it even though your instinct will tell you to. Just let go. It will be fine.” The vampire took a deep breath - and then he sunk his fangs right into Jimin’s carotid artery. He bit deep, trying not to unnecessarily prolong it. Jimin wouldn’t feel much pain, maybe a little discomfort but he didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so he wanted to do it quick. He felt on edge but when Jimin’s sweet blood flooded his mouth and he drank the first few gulps he couldn’t help but moan. He had never taken so much from Jimin before and drinking from him like that gave him a rush of endorphins and adrenaline that made him feel light headed and absolutely amazing.  

Jimin had gasped when the teeth sunk in and at first, it felt like it always did. Good, delightful and so pleasurable and only when his body realized that the vampire was taking way more than he should it was starting to tremble a little. But Jimin tried to stay calm, his eyes looking out at the beautiful moon that was shining inside their room and he smiled faintly. Soothing over Namjoon’s back, he tried to ensure the vampire that he wasn’t hurting, that it was okay, that only his body was fighting on instincts but Jimin trusted him. He could feel his eyes fall shut numerous times, his voice a mumble.

“‘love ‘ou.”

Jimin could feel his body weaken with each suck of his blood.

It happened surprisingly fast, one second Jimin was telling him he loved him with soft words, just a little bit slur and then he was practically collapsing in Namjoon’s hold. The vampire held onto him, interrupting his feeding to place Jimin down gentle. The younger’s eyelashes fluttered against his pale skin, but he was too weak to open his eyes properly. Namjoon on the other hand felt painfully alive, with all this blood running through his system, warm and sweet and perfect. Jimin’s blood. He was glad that he hadn’t let it go to waste and that Jimin had agreed on dying like this; with Namjoon able to cherish every single drop of his blood.

He leaned over him, ready to bite into his neck again because he didn’t want to prolong this for Jimin’s sake when the other’s breath stuttered. Namjoon hesitated, a bittersweet sadness washing over him when he realized that this might be Jimin’s last breaths. So, he kissed him, kissed the breath right from his lungs to taste his vulnerability, his humanity on his tongue for one last time. Jimin's eyes widened one last time. The last image on his mind was Namjoon. It was always him. So, Jimin wasn't afraid when the darkness slowly pulled him under. He let go, trusting in the vampire to catch him. When Namjoon broke the kiss Jimin’s breath was gone.

He still had an aversion to dirtying Jimin’s soft lips with his blood but if he didn’t give the other some of it soon then it would be too late. Taehyung had been in a worse state but it always came to a person’s spirit in the end and he wasn’t sure if Jimin would hold on to staying a life as desperately as Taehyung so he was better safe than sorry. He had brought a little blade to open up his wrist as he didn’t want to bite it and spoil the taste of Jimin’s blood with his own. As much as he had feed it took just a tiny little cut before his blood kept dripping from his wrist. He opened Jimin’s lips with his tongue, then pressed his wrist against the others mouth and filled it with blood until it began dribbling down the corner of Jimin’s mouth. The younger couldn’t even swallow anymore so Namjoon started massaging his throat, kissing his neck, trying to make it seem more gentle, more personal. In the end it was pretty simple, human blood was supposed to go out, vampire blood would get in. But he refused to see it like that. There was a life that got turned around in between. Jimin closed his eyes as a human - and would hopefully open them as a vampire again soon. He just needed to keep going for a tiny little while longer. He hovered over him, gently nipping his neck before biting into it again, adamant on taking the last bit of Jimin’s sweet, sweet blood as well before it would be lost forever. He would know when to stop, either when the blood started tasting dead or when Jimin would start smelling like vampire or starting to show signs of awakening again.

Jimin’s body was pliant under Namjoon’s touch. His eyes closed, mind far gone and blank. He didn’t feel much when the darkness had pulled him under. He was gone for what felt like an eternity and at the same time it felt so quick until his body reacted for the first time to the vampire’s blood in his system. The sound that escaped him, sounded like he was choking, his lungs constricting trying to fight the poison in his system that was taking over and trying to take his first breath as a vampire.

Namjoon had barely stopped drinking before Jimin’s body reacted. There were little tremors running through it, so small that at first the vampire thought he was imagining it. The few seconds while he was unsure if Jimin really was reacting felt like a little eternity because his mind filled them with the kind of “what if’s” he had been trying to push down: What if Jimin wouldn’t wake up, what if he was different, what if he wouldn’t want him anymore , what if…

A horribly pained sound interrupted his spiraling thoughts and he was over Jimin in a second. “Jimin?! Minnie, can you hear me?” The younger’s eyelids fluttered but he still seemed to be under. His body started convulsing and Namjoon tried to hold him, not too tightly so he wouldn’t hurt him but tight enough that Jimin couldn’t hurt himself. The first few breaths sounded like Jimin was drowning and then his chest expended like it should be. He was still wheezing, his breaths irregular and too short so Namjoon talked to him, tried to give him a rhythm he could follow but even though Jimin’s body had started functioning again his mind wasn't there yet.

“Jimin? Can you hear me? Please, if you can hear me, if you remember who I am can you please give me a sign?” He held Jimin’s hand, squeezing it lightly and hoping that Jimin would squeeze back but he was too restless, too fidgety. His muscles were twitching under his skin, a knee jerking up when his consciousness tried to rewire his reflexes, checking if everything still worked as it should be. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.” When he pushed back Jimin’s hair he could feel that the younger was sweating heavily. It was taking a toll on his body and he ached for the moment in which Jimin would be conscious enough to feel it.

Jimin’s body was going through the transformation, shaking him hard and if it wasn’t for Namjoon’s hold he probably would have fallen off the bed already. He was barely conscious, his mind slowly slipping back into reality. Only bits and pieces of Namjoon’s voice came through but it only made him shook himself more. His mind tried to put the puzzle pieces back together, his body stiffening as his back arched off the bed. It was then, when a low growl escaped his lungs and Jimin’s body fell back again. His head fell aside, his muscles lax under Namjoon’s hold. Everything was completely still.

There was nothing. No movement. No heartbeat.

“.J..Jimin?” Namjoon tried to stay calm, there was no need to overreact. Jimin would be fine. He would just open his eyes now. “Jimin?!” He shook the younger by the shoulder. In Taehyung’s case the newborn had been panting and screaming in pain. This was different. This was completely horribly different. “J…Jimin, can you hear me? Jimin… oh god, please Jimin...” He was repeating the younger’s name over and over as if he could will his love awake if only he said it often enough.

Jimin wasn’t sure what had happened. His mind blank as his body had giving up on fighting against the changes. But being somewhere deep in his mind, Namjoon’s voice pulled him in again. He wanted to follow it. Anywhere where Namjoon was, was where Jimin wanted to be. Where he was meant to be.

Jimin snapped his eyes open in one second, when a painful scream escaped his lungs soon after. He was panting heavily, eyes searching everywhere, while his tight grip on the satin sheet made it tear apart. Throwing his head back in pain, Jimin could feel every little change in his body, forming into a new person. A newborn vampire.

“There you are…” Relief was crashing through him like a wave when Jimin’s eyes snapped open. He was conscious, that was most important. Everything else could be figured out as long as his soul wasn’t caught between live and death forever. “Breathe Minnie. I know it hurts but I promise it’ll get better, just hold on. Don’t fight it, let it be. It’s going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine. You’re with me again.” He hugged Jimin close whose body was still shuddering and shaking as if there was electricity  in his veins. “You’re alive. Don’t worry, you’re alive again.”

Jimin hissed in pain, when his teeth came out for the first time. His mind was in complete overdrive. There were too many colors, too many smells, too much noise. When Namjoon was so close to him, Jimin’s senses were completely overstimulated. He could hear blood pumping through the vampires veins, blood – that smelled so good (which was his own, human one, but he couldn’t decipher that). In his fear and overstimulation, Jimin bared his teeth, biting into the vampire’s skin on instinct.

“Ouch!” Namjoon cried out in pain but broke into laughter right after. He definitely hadn’t expected that. But it showed that Jimin’s instincts where there and his fangs worked just fine. “No, that’s not.. just no!” He pulled Jimin off his neck who was snapping at him like a hungry wolf. “It’s Namjoon, you recognize me? You’re vampire boyfriend? You can't bite me you’ll get sick if you try to drink from me. Here, take this.” He gave Jimin a bag of blood which was still a little lukewarm because Jin had reheated it for them. “It’s not the best but it will curb your appetite for a little while.” He chuckled at the way Jimin went for it. “You’re really hungry, hu? Don’t worry, you’ll learn to control it.  Till then I can call you my little greedy-guts!”

Jimin’s eyes were solely focused on his maker, sipping on the delicious blood (he didn’t know what real, fresh and warm human blood tasted like, yet so he had nothing to compare it to) while listening to the other vampire. He was still shaking, his body still adjusting to the changes – but his eyes kept on Namjoon, sucking on the blood with hungry little growls.

“Gr-greedy guts?” Jimin cocked his head aside, looking at his maker thoroughly. His mind hadn’t put all the missing pieces together and there was always the risk of losing some memories while being turned but it had become clearer since he fed. Hearing another two heartbeats close by, Jimin snapped his head around, getting up on his knees. The last bit of blood from the bag was dripping onto the bed, while his eyes were gazing around the room until it was on Namjoon again. His heart skipped a beat and a warm feeling spread in the pit of his stomach and Jimin slowly reached out for his maker’s face.

“Y-you made me?” He asked quietly, his thumb caressing over Namjoon’s cheeks softly, cupping his face while he furrowed his brows in confusion. Then he let his hand wander down the vampire’s neck. Wanting to take a closer look at what he did, Jimin snapped forward with a little too much force making Namjoon fall back and under him, while the newborn examined the small bitemark he had left that was healing itself already (fueled by the blood of Jimin). “Ye...yeah, I made you.” Namjoon gasped when his back hit the bed. He let Jimin examine him, letting him explore whatever he wanted, hoping that Jimin would find back to himself soon. Though even if some of it got lost he would make sure to help him piece everything back together. He knew about Jimin’s life, his parents, his hopes and dreams… he would share everything with him and make him fall in love with him again if he needed to.

Jimin was not moving an inch away from his lap as he explored the other a little more with his hands. But each time, he looked at the other’s eyes, his heart ached. It skipped a beat. There it was again. Jimin was confused at the feeling and the constant noises around were not helping him to concentrate. “I feel something…,” Jimin looked at his maker and then down to his hand as it wandered down to where Namjoon’s heart was, settling there and placing his palm onto his chest. “Well I hope you do. Otherwise you’d be dead,” Namjoon joked his nervousness away while Jimin was feeling him up, pure curiosity in his eyes. “Just please - don’t bite me again, okay? It hurts and it won’t get you what you want.” He licked his lips, realizing that he was in a very uncomfortable position in case Jimin tried something again. “Do you mind if I sit up, Minnie? You can still explore me if you want to though.”

Jimin didn’t care as long as he could stay close to the one who made him. Something pulled him towards him, and he wanted to know what it was. He leaned a little closer, nosing along Namjoon’s jaw to take in his scent. “Minnie,” Jimin repeated mindlessly and in a whispery tone to himself as it sparked some memories inside of him that he couldn’t put together, yet. Later, Jimin would be very thankful that Namjoon had made sure there wasn’t too much happening inside of the mansion while he was turning so he could try and concentrate on what was in front of him.

“You’re a very handsome maker,” The young vampire giggled, as he held his palm against Namjoon’s, trying to see how they fit together. Jimin was like a child, exploring the world and how his senses worked completely anew. A shiver went down his spine, whenever there was something new. A new feel, smell or sound he couldn’t decipher, yet. And only when Namjoon talked, he snapped back into the ‘now’. There was something about the vampire in front of him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, yet. Closing his eyes, Jimin just did what his body told him to do – so, he hugged Namjoon. Leaning his head on Namjoon’s shoulder, he drew little patterns into the nape of the vampire’s neck. Just like he always used to.

Namjoon sighed contently when Jimin hugged him. Even if what Jimin was doing was just affection for him because he ‘made’ him it was still better than being ignored or feared. Jimin liked him. And although of course he would have preferred for Jimin to be like he had been before there was still time for his memories to come back. Slowly as to not scare him off Namjoon hugged him back. “I’m glad you’re here, Jimin. I’m so glad you made it.” He gave him a quick little kiss on the cheek before closing his eyes and simply enjoying their closeness.

Jimin had gasped quietly when Namjoon kissed him on the cheek, he could feel his heart doing the thing again. Very slowly, he leaned back to look at Namjoon more closely, when it suddenly hit him. It was like a lightning stroke when it all came back to him. Everything. The fear, pain and the eternal love they shared, which was overpowering everything else. A sudden painful sob broke through him and the tears shot in his eyes. “I always loved it when you called me Minnie,” The newborn vampire leaned in fast, kissing Namjoon heatedly, not caring about his new teeth that could maybe hurt someone in the process. He just wanted to kiss and feel.

Namjoon’s eyes widened but before he could ask Jimin if he remembered he had his arm full of newborn vampire again and his mouth occupied with Jimin’s. His decision to not kiss or touch Jimin until he was absolutely sure that he remembered them being in a relationship went out the window with the way Jimin was practically devouring him. If anyone was ‘weaker part’ in this it was Namjoon and not Jimin as he could barely keep his balance.

“I missed you, god, I missed you so much,” Jimin mumbled against Namjoon’s lips, talking as if he hadn’t seen his boyfriend in months when it only been a night or maybe a few hours. He pulled off him, his hands cupping Namjoon’s cheeks. A bright smile appeared on his face, showing off his new fangs. “Ha!” Jimin placed one sweet kiss on Namjoon’s lips again before he jumped up so fast that it made him stumble into the table. It didn’t hurt much though and Jimin quickly proceeded to look at himself in the mirror. He let his fingers trail over his pale skin, then looked at his teeth. Jimin nodded in affirmation, his eyes flickering around the room in a second again. He was like a puppy, the need to explore growing immensely whenever he smelled something new or heard something coming from somewhere. He had figured that the other two heartbeats were Tae’s and Yoongis.

“Missed me, hm? So much that you would bite my neck as if I was your food!” He pouted while there was pure, unadulterated joy in his heart. Seeing Jimin like this, so happy, so alive made his worries turn into dust. Jimin would handle this. They would be fine. Jimin wouldn’t have to worry about being in the mansion and he wouldn’t have to fear the rogues (who were practically nonexistent at this point; Hoseok was making sure the last few of them were hunted down and brought to the mansion) he was safer than he had ever been before.

Jimin nodded hastily, “You looked pretty damn delicious to me though.” He licked over his lips slowly, feeling the hunger deep in the pit of his stomach. He for sure needed to feed on more than one blood bag. Jimin was just about to ask Namjoon for more, when a smell reached his nostrils. One that he hadn’t had the pleasure of smelling, yet.

Fresh Blood.

Jimin’s eyes turned dark red, a hungry growl leaving his lungs as he jumped forward only to be held back by the older vampire. He howled loudly, pressing his hands onto his ears only seconds after when the heartbeat came closer, mixing with a painful high-pitched sound that he didn’t recognize, screaming at Namjoon to make it stop.

The howl was what made the young human look up at the sky at first then at the west wing of the mansion. “Probably some wolves in the forest,” The boy mumbled to himself, as he opened up the gate. An empty milk churn in his hand, the raven-haired boy whistled a tune to himself, walking up to the mansion.

Namjoon had been too concentrated on Jimin to notice that there was a human approaching. Hoseok had made sure to clear out their wing so that no humans were around and Jimin would have it easier to suppress his urge to attack one - so where the hell did this one come from? He’s had his hands full with keeping Jimin back who was lurching forward as if he wanted nothing more than walking through that door and getting to whoever was close to their doors. Namjoon furrowed his brows when he heard that the human was whistling a happy tune - as if he had no idea what was lurking behind these walls. He only hoped that Yoongi and Taehyung would notice and take care of it before Jimin would overpower him not with strength or stamina, but poor hunger fueled will.

The boy outside happily knocked on the door twice, waiting patiently for the owners to open the door. He turned a little, gazing around at the beautiful garden and he wondered if the owners must be rich or some heirs. Or maybe they were just some old people that had this mansion for years now. He smiled to himself. Either way, he wanted to leave a good first impression to his new neighbors. So, when the door opened a little, he didn’t waste any time to introduce himself to the wary looking person that was staring right back at him.

“I am sorry to bother you, Sir. I am Jeon Jungkook, your new neighbor,” The young man introduced himself and pointed somewhere behind himself. “Well, technically “new neighbor”. It’s been quite the walk up this hill.” He chuckled to lighten the mood and when the person opened the door a little more, it got stuck in his throat. Biting his lip, Jungkook couldn’t help but blush furiously (which made Jimin go crazy, hearing his heartbeat quickening and the blood rush through the humans veins) when he saw the handsome man in front of him.

“New neighbor?” Taehyung cocked his head a little scanning Jungkook’s face, then his body, then the empty can of milk the other was carrying. “Oh! You mean you moved here? And now you came to introduce yourself to your new... neighbours?” The vampire couldn’t help but broke into laughter. “Well aren’t you a cute one! I’m sure we’re going to like each other! Don’t you want to come in for... for tea or something?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile when the other called him cute. Nonetheless his arm shot up in a second to show of the can, “I…I mean yes, I wanted to introduce myself but also… I am kind of out of milk. And you see…” While he was talking, Taehyung urged him to follow him inside, leaving the door open as he turned around. Jungkook simply did it. Not even the slightest hint of fear in his mind.

“…I love banana milk and I wanted to make some myself and so…that’s why I am here,” He finished his little story, looking at the other with big eyes. “You didn’t tell me your name, yet?” Jungkook stretched out his hand for him to take, scrunching up his nose cutely.

“Oh, sure, banana milk, yeah… I’d go crazy if I couldn’t make that.” Taehyung could barely contain his grin. He took Jungkook’s hand and leaned down for a hand kiss. Instead of kissing the back of Jungkook’s hand he turned his wrist a little, placing his kiss right on the younger’s pulse point where the blood was so deliciously close to his skin. “Come one, cutie, let’s see if we got milk in the fridge...”

Taehyung could barely make a few steps before Yoongi was blocking his way though. “What the hell are you doing there, Taehyung?” His eyes scanned over Jungkook, “And what the fuck does this hum ...boy want here? You know that Jimin just woke up, this is not the time to let someone inside the house!”

Taehyung looked at the older with big pleading eyes, “But he smells so good! Can’t we just let him in, just for a little while? He’s looking for milk! Don’t you think we should get him milk? Maybe get us something to drink as well? Let me have a sip, please!” Yoongi's brows furrowed. “Milk? He’s looking for milk?” He warily eyed the can and then Jungkook’s face again who was smiling and looking somewhere between intimidated, confused and shy.

Taehyung was still holding onto his hand and Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker down where the handsome man was holding on to his wrist. “Yeah, let him have a sip,” Jungkook pursed his lips into a pout, “Who could resist some banana milk?” Jungkook immediately felt a little taken back, when Yoongi’s gaze was piercing through him again, so he leaned in to Taehyung a little, lowering his voice. “Is he always this grumpy?”

Yoongi groaned, palming his face. There he was, trying to protect a human and the little shit seemed adamant on getting himself bitten. “You know what? I think we’ve run out of milk ourselves. But we could restock, and you could come over in a few days. Then we will have bananas and milk and snacks and then we can have a ‘welcome in the neighborhood’ party. How about that?” He turned towards Taehyung and added, “Till then Jimin either is sated and under control - or he can stay in the west wing for one night so that you can have your little sip of ‘milk’ in peace. Deal?”

Taehyung nodded enthusiastically, letting go of Jungkook’s wrist, though not before he squeezed his hand a little. “Promise you’ll come back? Then I’ll promise it will be just a sip, just a little taste. We could be friends, you and I, just like me and Jimin before...tonight. And with a little practice I’m sure Jimin wants to be your friend too! You’ll see, we’re all a big happy family here. You’ll fit right in.” With that he opened the door for Jungkook and let him out, waving after him, leaving the younger confused, “It was so nice to meet you! See you soon, Jungkook!”

Inside Taehyung chuckled heartily ignoring Yoongi’s frown. “Oh, come on, wasn’t he cute? Tell me you didn’t think he was cute!” Yoongi only huffed. “See? Please, can he be our human friend? We don’t have a human friend now that Jiminnie’s one of us. Maybe he even likes being bitten and then we won’t have to hypnotize him and Namjoon doesn’t have to turn back to blood bags and Jiminnie might prefer him too over bags or puppets.”

Yoongi scratched his neck in thought. “We’ll see about it. Let’s just check up on Jimin for now and think about our neighbor sometime else.” Taehyung nodded and hurriedly ran after Yoongi who was walking back to Jimin’s room to help Namjoon out. “Yes, we can talk about it tomorrow. I’m sure the others will be really happy that we fixed the blood problem by chance.” He smiled happily and then opened the door to Jimin’s room.

“I bet Jungkookie tastes as sweet as milk.” His grinned turned even wider, showing off his sharp fangs, “Banana milk.”

A/N: This is it. The end. I hope you all guys loved the story just as much as we loved writing it. Leave us your thoughts down below in the comments or send us a message! We love you guys! And of course we are already working on new stuff! ❤❤❤ We’ll keep you updated! Oh and if you guys want we can upload a character sheet soon again for you to get even more infos on the characters and their background stories :) Tell us what you think! We did it before with ‘Solanacea’ and have one for this story as well. We only need to edit and then upload it! Whup!  ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

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[daydreaminghaven]

I needed a rant

I'm just going to write this down because I don't know how else to deal with this at the moment. My roommate is an asshole, it's gotten to bad that at this point I'm literally on the verge of tears. She is inconsiderate and rude and I don't know what to do. Sometimes my gut just tells me to go fucking punch the shit out of her but I wont because I'm better than that. I know for a fact that she could never beat my ass and it's not like I'm scared of her it's just that I'm scared of losing this home. I don't want to move anymore and if I do result to violence I'll be out and who knows where I'll be next? The last thing I want or need is too be in another fucking group home which will be right where I'm headed if I lose this place. '

And what could make me come to all of this? When I first met my roommate I knew we were not going to become close friends it was like I could see the future. You know when you meet someone and you just feel their negative energy? Well it was like that with her. Nevertheless, being that I just came out of a hellish rehabilitation program it was a miracle that I somehow was given a foster home. Foster homes are very, very rare for someone my age- especially coming from someone who was currently in a rehab. All anyone wants are little kids, and as a matter of fact my foster parent even admits she wasn't going to take me because she herself only wanted young kids. The only reason she took me is because I have an interest in church, quote me.

If I had to go to a group home then so be it, but now that I'm here I don't want to lose what I have. The problem with group homes is that they occupy too many people. Just imagine what its like to be living with 5-9 teenage girls mixed in with 3 or 4 tired, angry under-payed, overworked staff members (that switch out 3 times a day) all under the same roof. It's not pretty. There's ALWAYS fights, there's ALWAYS drama, ALWAYS something weather it be someone running away, two or more girls not getting along or a staff member not doing their job, or overstepping boundaries; there is constant stress. All. The. Time.

For someone who likes solitude, quietness, this kind of environment is- it's just horrible. It's already bad enough but then mix in someone who can't handle that kind of lifestyle and it can worsen their mental health, it can lead to self harm, suicidal ideations or worse. 

Once upon a time I used to be able to handle group homes, I just moved along when the drama happened, it was frustrating definitely (not just for me but for everyone), but it wasn't unbearable. But then I moved... And I moved again. And again. Then I started getting more fed up with it, then I started breaking down more easily, and self harmed, attempted suicide. I started to runaway, and use drugs... And every time I moved the staffs/therapists/supervisors seemed to care less and less and it was so frustrating. There were so many rules but so much unacceptable behavior slipping right under the rug!

And there was pretty much nothing you could do about it.

Then I got put in that rehabilitation and residential program which was some of the worst times in my life. It was like a bad group home to the max. You thought 9 teenage girls was bad? try 18-29. Together, all fucking day. No phones or internet, you had to be cut off- you couldn't even have a diary or pass notes without it needing to be checked everyday. You can bet there was fights and drama all the time, you couldn't leave the campus at all until months after you arrived. Not even mentioning that there was a strict schedule when to, sleep eat, shower, have mandatory groups that everyone hated. The staff in these places was even worse, virtually EVERYONE hated their job, and the staff in programs are allowed to put there hands on you if deemed necessary, and oh-fucking-boy did they. That power was abused way to fucking often but you want to try to run away? Straight to jail for 90 days just to get sent back and have to start all of your progress over from scratch... or possibly get sent to an even longer program.

These programs are technically 6 months but most people end up there for 8 to 9 months. You are given a set of 5 'levels' or 'phases' that you have to complete in order to get discharged from the program. Some kids are lucky and their insurance runs out and their parents can't pay to keep them there. I wasn't that lucky considering my parent is the state of fucking Florida. I'm grateful to be able to have good insurance and all but fucking hell that place was bad. Due to having to move to a switch different program 5 months after I was sent to my first program (over something that wasn't my fault, it had to due with medication issues which is a whole other story), I had to start all of my progress over and start the levels off from scratch. I spent 8 months in my second program making 13 months completely cut off from society (did I mention you weren't even allowed to watch the news?). That’s where I spent Christmas, Halloween, Mothers and Fathers day, even my birthday. I was discharged just two fucking days after my birthday. Just two. Anyways, the point is, I worked really, really hard to prove that I was responsible enough to get a foster home and I did. Even though my roommate is a fucking asswipe dealing with one girl is better than 9. At least I can kind of ignore her. But It's just so hard to act like it's not that bad she’s always

-touching and stealing my belongings -throwing actual garbage with bloody tampons in it over my ART SUPPLIES -always calling me disgusting and dirty when this bitches side of the closet -smells like fish -talking dirty to boys late at night (I don't want to hear about how you want to eat his ass. Stop it. Get some help.) -using my towel that I bathe with to clean the floor with BLEACH FUCKING BLEACH -USING MY LOAFERS AND WASH RAGS -plays loud angry rap music, or movies at full volume all night, usually until 2am, -or really early in the morning to wake me up WHEN SHE OWNS FUCKING HEADPHONES -Talks shit about me to everyone that comes through the door of this house (and loudly)

and I’m over here basically kissing her ass because anything is better than those fucking group homes. And I've tried to ask her to stop, or turn down her music, I've tried confronting her- and peacefully and respectfully but she either ignores me or gets violent. I've tried tried telling the foster parent, my therapist and no one is doing anything. I'm backed up into a corner. Like I said before, I'm not scared for my life, this bitch is like 5'3 (no offense to short people) but like I could kick her punk ass any day- and I would if I number 1.) wasn't trying to better myself and number 2.) cared about this home so fucking much. I just don't know what to do except pray and try to focus on other things. I wish I could just sleep in the living room. I keep breaking my headphones because I have to sleep with rain noises or something to drown out whatever she decides to play. Can you believe she has the audacity to wake me up just tell me to turn down my headphones when she tries to sleep? Like they aren’t even big headphones they are 6 dollar earbuds how loud can they be?! I do every single time though because I'm trying to 'stay blameless in Gods eyes' because I believe in karma and also if I didn't she would probably do something really petty like purposefully play loud music to wake me up even earlier or play it all night so I can't sleep. 

It really sucks. I have to live with this person for 110 more days (and, yes, I have it marked on my calendar) but one day she'll be gone and I wont have to deal (or smell) this person again. So hopefully I'll have some more learned patience by then. 

The whole reason for me even righting this is because yesterday she asked me to turn the light off in our room when I'm not using it (which is understandable, except you're never home anyways nor do you pay the bills) and of course when she came home the next day I made sure the light was off (did I mention the reason I'm not in the room when she comes home is because I avoid being in there when she is? My foster parent apparently thought that was important enough to report to my therapist like I have problems-But when I tell you whats actually going on you don't do anything about it so like...). Then today when came home I asked her to close the door when she goes in the room, while she was going to the room (because I can still hear whatever she plays from the living room). Guess what? She looked right at me, then walked to the room which is right across the living room and left the door wide open ON PURPOSE. Later on she said that basically it's not her job and that if I want it closed then I need to walk over and close it every time she leaves it open. It pissed me off so much that I just needed to write my feelings out because there isn't anything else I can do about it. Maybe when I'm older I'll look back on this and think 'wow look how strong you are now' and hopefully by then I'll be in a position where if someone is being an outright dick I can punch the shit out of them on the spot- I mean deal with them professionally.

just 110 more days Jasmine, you can do it. Do it for yourself girl do it for your boo thang

[ramblingsofasquid-blog]

Stuffs I want to say. ;)

Hi there human being! :)

We haven’t talked in while right? I’m thinking of what should I say this time around. Should I go with the random post, or the encouraging one, or a funny one or just anything that comes to mind. Hahaha. Hmm. So I’ll just go with anything that I’m thinking of, okay lang ba? Lets go with no filter. Lol. Medyo medyo lang. --, Oh well. Wala ka na namang magagawa kapag napost ko na, so why bother asking? Haha. XD I dunno if this’ll be a long one or not. Haha. So here goes nothing, ready? Just read along, then think afterwards. Okay? Okay. :)

So how are you? How have you been? Aside from work, what have you been up to? What’s keeping you occupied? I hope you’re taking good care of yourself though. I know you’re an independent woman most of the time but you also need to be taken care of, okay? Haha. But I guess, no, slash that, I know someone will be taking care of you, and I hope he really would. Anyways, alam na ba nina juls? Guess I’m just thinking about it, of them knowing. Hehe. Balita ko napostpone lakad nyo ah? Yung outing nyo sa group chat? Then naging planner ka pa. Naks naman oh. Hope you’d push through it. :) You really need it, distress yourself. Haha. And I know they need it too. Lalo na si Krissanto. Miss na kayo nun. Hahahaha.

Hmm. As for me, I guess I’m okay? To be honest, I really don’t know. Ang labo no? Haha. But what I’m sure of is I’m preoccupying myself with work, work and work, but I guess even if you’re doing something, you can’t avoid thinking of some stuffs. Haha. I guess I’m becoming a daydreamer and a night thinker these past few months. Lol. Thinking of some things, realizing things that’s been blindly disregarded, figuring things out, reminiscing etc. Haha. I’m exercising my brain aren’t I? Haha. Naks. Lol. Hmm. The shittiest thing that happened to me this past few months will beeeee, dun dun dun dunnnnnn............. I can’t draw even if I wanted to, unless its a mandatory thing to do. --, Lost interest or what, i dunno, its just that. Funny how I’m saying this to you just now. I guess its because of the “no filter thingy”. Hahahaha. It’ll come back. Haha. Not anytime soon, but it will come back, I’m sure of it. --,

Hmm. I miss you squiddo(well this is random. haha.). I really do, okay? Don’t doubt me. Haha. --, I just do. Haha. I wish I can see you but I can’t. Well, this is me trying to finish this off before dopping off to sleep since kakarating ko lang galing Lucena. Walang pasok eh. May pasok ka pa din ba this Monday kahit holiday? Anobayan. Haha. Hope you’d get your well-deserved rest soon. Don’t overwork yourself. As long as you know that you are doing your best in each passing day, that is more than enough, don’t focus too much on the outcome, focus on what’s in front of you and how you would get through this day. I know its almost unavoidable to be distracted by the things and some negativities around you, cos you also think of how your actions can affect others or most specifically, your team. If things kept on troubling you while you’re doing your best, take a step back, breathe in breathe out, and when you’re ready, when you’re okay already, take a step forward and continue what you were doing in the first place. Taking a step back doesn’t mean you’re giving up, it means you’re also thinking of yourself too, whether you’re just taking a breather or reflecting on things.

I’ll always be proud of you. Do know that THAT is something I won’t ever get tired of saying, okay? You’ll always have me even if there’ll be misunderstandings now or in the future, or even if we don’t talk anymore. Hahaha. I’ll always care. I got your back. :)

P.S. Pst. Ohayou~/Oyasumi~ Well, this is the end of this link. Haha. You know where to find me when you need me. Just beep me up text or skype or i dunno. Haha. Ja ne! Ganbatte! :)

[violetsystems]

#personal

One of the major advantages of spending more time at home has been the time spent cleaning.  My work day is pretty solidly scheduled though I am working from my kitchen.  I’ve read a lot of articles about how it’s hard to set the boundaries.  I’ve also sat in weird corporate webinars that can’t stop praising how great it is for parents.  Those same webinars talk a lot about the importance of virtual happy hour.  I don’t have children at the moment and I definitely don’t drink.  There are definitely perks.  And if you work in Information Technology, you soon realize you’ve already been working from home in some way or another for years.  From there I can worry about endless things.  But job stability for the near future is not really one of them.  The job market is still out there I guess.  There are a lot of things my job has allowed me to do over the years.  One of them was visit Asia for a month at a time on my paid time off.  I used to fly there twice a year landing in South Korea.  I visited my cousin Hong Kong.  Played shows in Japan.  Even ate McDonald’s in Shanghai.  That changed around three years ago when I decided to focus on somewhere closer to home.  The goal was always the same.  To be out there by myself living my own life.  Resting on my own laurels.  And largely nobody remembers who I am it feels like at times.  The last three I spent going to New York.  Somewhere in the last couple of years I would go every two months.  Starting on my birthday during fashion week two years ago.  Just for coffee mostly.  A year prior I played a show at a place called Sunnyvale.  It was the first show I’d ever played without drinking liquor.  I remember going to Chinatown by myself after to get an ice cream cone.  I was so hungry I looked to my left and saw a Xi’an style restaurant next door.  I’d be eating that food for years back home.  The picture on the wall when I wandered in freaked me out.  It was somebody I knew.  I didn’t eve really read into it.  I just kept on the tram lines as they say.  This morning I woke up to my email informing me I sold an ep in the middle of the night.  It has this track called Shaanxi on it.  My neighbor and a friend had challenged me to make some beat at the time.  I posted it up on twitter as a response.  The Shaanxi board of tourism approached me in my DM’s.  Asked me all this stuff about how I made the music and what it was about.  I didn’t say much.  I never say much.  They didn’t pry.  It was flattering.  But it was amazing how I had connected with all these things tangentially.  Almost like bumping into things in the dark.  There were so many obstacles in the way of that communication.  I know because I spent year after year being ignored by everyone.  None of these things mattered to people.  I was free to roam about the cabin alone.  And now I’m locked inside with the opposite of cabin fever.  No plans to visit New York anytime soon.  But a nike branded apple watch on the way.  What time is it there?

Things have changed in the world.  It’s amazing to me that after traveling to Korea fourteen times there is no traveller’s mask to be found in my luggage.  I’ve emptied every suitcase twice.  I stayed in dingy hostels week after week.  Crunched up on a cot in a thirty dollar room like a broom closet.  I’ve nursed friends back to health between trips from the flu.  My stubborn white ass is still improvising with bananas and balaclavas.  I should have been wearing a mask years ago.  Now instead of looking like your average pop star I walk around the neighborhood like Deadpool.  I do own a sewing machine.  I do plan on experimenting with a pattern to make a proper one myself.  And I do have enough time on my hands and no fear of missing out.  Probably because I’ve been as far as New Zealand by myself.  Now I’m locked in my apartment with an occasional text from a needy neighbor.  Everything gets delivered on-time.  Nothing in my normal schedule has changed all that much.  I have toilet paper and coffee.  I’m still just as mentally elevated as I was before quarantine.  I know where everything is in my apartment for better or for worse.  When I get annoyed I address clutter and remove without hesitation.  I’ve stopped questioning my worth at my job.  I have more than enough work to do every day to keep me busy.  My life is very quiet for the most part.  It’s a far cry from shifting on a mattress five thousand miles from home with no heat.  Now I control the heat.  I lift weights in my kitchen.  I play records in my living room.  I sort clothes and make things  in my spare bedroom.  I sleep on a bed frame with my cat and organize my closet.  I work from my sunlit kitchen and think about good weather when it happens on my porch.  I’ve been gardening over the winter indoors getting ready for the spring.  Nobody ever asks me any of this.  I just do it.  It doesn’t matter enough to people to remember.  All of this and I’m still just as forgettable as I was years ago.  I run in an empty medical district and a Hollywood style backlot.  I don’t have much physical contact with anyone these days.  In some ways I feel less encroached on and in other ways this city can still be annoyingly clingy in terms of it’s societal expectations.  But it is the Midwest.  And Illinois has had the advantage early on addressing this seriously.  We had one of the first cases from Wuhan months ago.  And yet New York’s problem stems from Europe per the genome work.  Things have not been easy here.  People’s emotions towards things are on high.  Mine aren’t at all.  And this is a strength I’ve realized helps me keep things more chill.  To be a leader you have to move without wavering.  I’ve been doing that for years.  Some years more awkwardly.  This year still as occidental as the last.  But one thing I haven’t fumbled is delivering people an education.  And neither has anybody I’ve had the pleasure of working with online for the last few weeks.  Being safe and being smart about it hasn’t been convenient.  But whether this is the new normal depends on how globally sensitive you are.  

Things keep changing.  Life evolves.  People refute science often.  Better to be safe than sorry.  Deadpool can grow back a lung.  I’m saving my heart for you.  Of all the things I have complained about, my sovereign space is not really one of them.  You have to fight for your own right to party I guess.  Freedom isn’t free.  What freedom means to me now looks different than maybe it did.  Chicago is very much my home.  It can be stubborn and cocky.  It can think it knows everything about you without ever addressing you.  And it can be told off if you have enough clout to back your mouth up.  It also has been doing it’s best for a matter of years.  Overlooked and overworked.  Kind of like myself.  There’s people out there who relied solely on music that are starving right now.  And here I am selling mp3′s and shirts in my sleep every other week.  It gives me something to do.  I made up with the post office because I had to mail a shirt I guess.  Now my coffee gets delivered on time.  I have my gripes and complaints about this city.  You’ve read them.  They’re valid.  I have every right to be pissed about all of it.  And yet sometimes I feel it’s just misguided.  People are dumb.  People are afraid and act irrationally out of that fear.   When it becomes a pattern it’s not always easy to escape from.  You have to humor it at times.  Give it a way out like a trapped animal.  That’s the graceful approach.  You can spend months spitting at the ground trying to prove your point.  That you are fed up with it.  And then things change overnight.  And you see the weakness and it doesn’t interest you to kick it while it’s down.  Kind of like America.  We’re starting to see ourselves in the light.  We’re number one.  In Covid-19 infections.  What does it mean?  Are we more obsessed with the threat of the virus or the non stop reporting?  Some of us are lost in a tailspin trying to justify our incredible shrinking life and public space.  For once in my life, people just leave me the fuck alone.  People have seen me before but don’t know anything about me other than how I treat them.  There’s people from Korea I haven’t seen for years that have a better impression of me than people who ignore me every day back home.  I spend forty minutes or more on video camera a day leading meetings methodically in the time allotted.  My neighbors watch me nervously when I leave the building wondering how I will face the day.  If you ask me behind all of this I don’t care.  I’m through being held back.  I’ve been through.  I’m living my life in spite of everything.  In spite of distance.  In spite of space.  My heart has been occupied for years at this point in such a ridiculous way to some.  And now that people are trapped inside with people miles apart emotionally, they feel incredibly alone.  I don’t feel that way.  I’ve never felt that way.  I’ve been walking around with someone inside my heart with no expectations.  Simply inspiration.  Constantly filling my head with ideas I can act on.  To push me further ahead on the tram lines.  One day I hope that train makes a stop in your city.  Wherever you are at the moment.  Maybe Belt and Road will make that happen.  I’d just like to note the train stops just outside my back yard.  I’m home all the time.  You are always welcome.  I wake up at five am most days.  It’s clean and I make good coffee.  What time is it there? <3 Tim

[the-hound-of-new-vegas]

We All Stand Together

Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: Teen for brief language. Characters: Female Shepard, Samantha Traynor Relationships: Fem!Shep/Samantha Traynor Warnings: None. Notes: Done for LGBTQ+ Shepard Week, for the prompt: Pride. Also posted on my AO3, here:

Summary: Though no one really knows where she goes, Commander Shepard takes a week off every year. Until the Reapers invade, that is. When the time for her to take a vacation comes around, she starts acting strangely, and it's up to Samantha Traynor to figure out why... 

Once a year, without fail, Commander Shepard requested approximately two weeks off. And every year, no matter what, her main vacation ended up being during the same time of year. Her reasons tended to be vague, but never questionable enough for anyone to be concerned. Of course, considering her reputation for overworking herself, most of her superiors likely would have been fine with things even if Shepard submitted no justifications for her request. Whatever she took a break for was something she had more than earned. Few were privy to her life outside of work (made evident by the fact that even Cerberus hasn't been aware of her twin’s existence), and even those who were didn't know where she went during her annual leave.

Not until the Reapers arrived, at least.

In the year of their invasion, Earth was occupied during the time Shepard always requested a few days off. When she made no attempt to ask for such, most assumed it was because of her focus on the war, but others caught the strangeness that plagued her gaze. They didn't ask for fear of worsening her wounds- seeing as she was so often uncomfortable with speaking of her own ailments. Generally, it was safer to wait for her to initiate a conversation about such things than to bring up the topic yourself. Of course, there were rare exceptions…. as well as individuals who were unaware of this ‘rule of thumb’. Take the young Samantha Traynor, for example, who felt a mighty need to try to help her commander, but kept quiet mainly due to anxiety.

There came a day, however, where the opportunity to speak arose in an unusually natural fashion. The Normandy was approaching the Citadel for restocking, and Shepard had requested someone inform her of their arrival. To Traynor’s surprise, the Commander had muted her comm, forcing someone to deliver the news in person. Being the communications specialist… she decided to do such. Although it certainly wouldn’t be the first time she went to Shepard’s personal quarters, it would perhaps be the time that made her the most nervous. She had noted the woman’s unusual behavior, as well as the tension perpetually wrapped around her shoulders, and honestly wasn’t sure how well talking to her would go- regardless of whether or not the issue of her health was brought up. But despite her worries, she made her way to the top of the Normandy.

Knock knock. Her hand graced the panel, a soft touch still allowing sound to fill the small space. Inside her chest her heart pounded, blood rushing to and fro, breath locked in her lungs. When no reply came she hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. It’s okay, Samantha, she thought to herself, she asked me to let her know when we started our approach. Definitely won’t get mad at me for coming up here. After a slight pause, as well as a deep breath, she lifted her hand and knocked once more, this time a fair bit louder. It took a moment, but shuffling noises started coming from Shepard’s room. They were quiet, akin to the rustling of fabric, and it sparked another spike of panic in Traynor’s chest. Is she…? The comms specialist thought, not entirely sure where exactly her worries were going. Luckily the sounds stopped just a few seconds later, followed by a quiet voice.

“Yeah?... Come on in, I guess…” It was the softest she had ever heard Shepard talk. Her voice was as low as ever, but there was no pain, nor harshness, nor hint of air scraping past gravel-covered lungs. There was a blankness to it, yes, but a clean slate could be wondrous when one was used to red ledgers. “Just… don’t mind the mess, yeah?” The commander added, tone now displaying a bit of embarrassment. Completely unsure of what to expect, Samantha opened the door, peeking in slowly. To her surprise she saw… well, everything in a completely orderly fashion. There were no dead fish in the tank, no clothes thrown messily in a pile, and no scraps of paper scattered around a trash bin. Perhaps the only thing ‘out of place’ was the Commander herself. Shepard was sitting still upon her bed, a cardboard box lying half-closed next to her. The sullenness of her expression stood out- so vastly different from the vibrancy of her surroundings.

“Ahem, Commander?... We’ve started our approach to the Citadel. Joker estimates we’ll be there within the hour,” Traynor said, leaning slightly against the wall. For a few moments Shepard didn’t respond, her gaze locked on something within the box next to her, a tint of sadness creeping into her expression. Eventually she looked up with a tight frown, nodding swiftly before returning her attention to the container’s contents. I wonder what’s in there, Samantha thought, concern collecting in her chest. Knowing that she didn’t get many chance to speak to the Commander in private, she quickly decided to press the issue. If there’s any way I can help her… “Are… are you feeling alright, Shepard? Do you need me to get anything for you?” She asked, eyebrows knitted, eyes filled to the brim with a genuine sense of worry. To her utter surprise, the Commander replied immediately.

“You could find me a way to get the Reapers off of Earth.” There was no softness left in her voice, just a firmness, one paired with an evident ache. Although it had always been clear that Shepard cared deeply about her homeworld, and hated those who now threatened it, there seemed to be something extra in the way she now expressed those feelings. Clearly there was more to the situation than a simple bout of anger or misery. Maybe I should try to call up Chambers?... Samantha wondered, desperately unsure if she could handle this herself- or even if the soldier would let her help. No, at least not yet. I’ve got to do what I can when I can.

“I… I know you miss Earth, Commander. All of us do. But there’s…” She started to say, tripping over her own tongue, trying hard to form sentences that were both coherent and comforting, “I’m not sure there’s much else we can do at this moment. We’re all fighting as hard as we can, Shepard. If I could think of anything else to further things- I mean, anything, I… I swear I’d let you know. I’m trying-”

“It’s alright, Traynor,” Shepard interjected, raising her volume a bit. There wasn’t any anger in her voice, surprisingly, nor any disappointment. “I know for a fact you’re doing your best. I know every member of my crew is trying their damndest to finish this, to drive those sorry fuckin’ bastards off our planet. I can see it in your eyes- their eyes, I can feel it in the air, see it in the way their bones shake, their bodies tense up every time the reports come in… I know everyone is giving it their all, and I couldn’t be prouder,” she continued, turning the situation on its head. The comforted was now doing the comforting. I get the feeling there’s a ‘but’ coming, though, Samantha thought, waiting for the Commander to speak again. “There’s just… something that usually happens around this time of year. I’ve only ever missed it twice, and both times it was because I was quite literally dead, as well as locked up in a Cerberus lab, taking a not-so-casual nap on a presumably uncomfortable slab.”

That… definitely hadn’t been what Samantha was expecting. It made sense, however, and was enough for her to work off of. She could pry a little further into the situation, find a way to either help Shepard go without the event, whatever it was, or recreate it somehow, probably, and- she paused her thoughts for a moment, noticing the Commander reopening the box by her side. Both of her hands reached in slowly, cradling something just out of Samantha’s view. The soldier glanced up quietly, conflict clear in her eyes, before slowly lifting something up. Only a split second passed before understanding dawned on Traynor, who let out a soft ‘oh’. Part of her had wondered why Shepard trusted her with this, but everything made a lot more sense at that point. Held carefully in the Commander’s hands was what could only be a flag, adorned with rainbow colors, folded up as neatly as possible.

“I… guess there’s no harm in letting you know,” she said, gently placing the object to her left, then reaching back into the box. Slowly, while her companion watched with curiosity clear in her eyes, she removed a few more items. Most were pictures, but there were a few mementos from past parades as well. “Every year I go back to Earth. I go back to my hometown, donned in civies, and march with people like me. No one ever recognizes me- ‘m just another face in the crowd, another person unafraid to be myself. But this year…” Shepard trailed off quietly. There seemed to be a sort of lump in her throat, based on the way she struggled to swallow her words. The sight felt unnatural, almost artificial, the very idea of the Commander left vulnerable being nigh impossible to digest. It worried Samantha at first, before lighting a fire in her soul. Somehow, someway, she was going to fix this. She was going to make Shepard smile if it was the last thing she did.

“This has to be hard for you, Commander, but… but what if we could, well, have Pride here? On the Citadel, I mean?” She started to say, ideas rushing madly through her brain. Immediately she piqued her friend’s interest, and so she continued, mouth barely able to keep up with her mind. All the while she pulled out her tablet, starting to run searches. “There are thousands and thousands of refugees, right? Plenty of them are from Earth or other human colonies. There are bound to be hundreds who fall within the spectrum, considering the percentage of the overall population who do, and surely some of them would be interested in getting together, right? I know it wouldn’t be the same, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Samantha asked, taking a breath for what felt like the first time in several minutes. More ideas popped into her head a second later, making her gasp quietly, and she doubled her typing speed. “We could invite Steve, if you wanted. I don’t think he mentioned having any plans for today. He might know some others who would be interested, too.”

“You know, Traynor, I had… given up. On going to pride this year, I mean. I…” The Commander started, softly, taking a moment to wipe a few tears away. “Thank you. This is… If we can do this, if this happens, it’ll be exactly what I need. I mean, I can’t say no to a good pick-me-up, right?” She added, letting herself chuckle a bit. More tears trickled down her cheeks, but she made no note of it.

“Well, it looks like we’re in luck, Commander. According to the holonet, there are already people arranging a Pride event today. Guess you weren’t the only one missing Earth,” Samantha said, passing the tablet to Shepard with a grin. “So, do you want to go?” She asked. Without a moment of hesitation she received a frantic nod in return, followed by something she hadn’t expected: A hug. The Commander wasn’t often one to show affection in such an open way, but she wasn’t about to complain (especially not when their height difference let her rest her head perfectly in the crook of Shepard’s neck). Smiling softly she returned the embrace, one of her hands rubbing the other woman’s back, the quietest of sighs escaping her lips. “It’s alright, Shep,” she murmured, “everything is going to be just fine. Now c’mon, we have Pride to get ready for.”

[equalityforher]

May Day: A Statement from Our Team

by Glendon Francis and Lori Ro

Equality for HER believes in ethical labor practices and protecting immigrant rights. The preservation of human rights should know no borders. Equality for HER works to challenge and dismantle oppressive labor practices by sharing experiences and perspectives outside of the paradigms of white supremacy.

Our staff is predominantly comprised of immigrants and first generation Americans. May Day is both a time to honor the International Labor Movement and the stories and experiences of immigrants. Global Communications Director, Lori Ro, and Editorial Assistant, Glendon Francis took the time to share the significance of May Day to each of them. 

Lori Ro

I grew up with a single immigrant mom in a working class part of Los Angeles. The schools were crowded, so instead of getting summer vacations, we were put on ‘tracks’ (to ensure that the school was being used year round.) This meant that once every three months, we would get a month of vacation. I still think it’s a cool way to structure school time, but it meant that when I had that month of vacation, my mom would have to find a way to keep me occupied, since there was no summer school structure to fill in the gaps of tracks. What this often looked like was me going to work with her.

Though she had no college education and had gotten her high school education in El Salvador, my mom was always on her hustle, and worked as a housecleaner for a while. I remember going to her clients’ gigantic beachside houses and hearing her describe them to me, always according to their professions; “el abogado,” “el doctor,” “la escritora.”

We lived in a duplex and rented a room out to make ends meet - it wasn’t shabby by any means, but I shared a room with my sister, and the space we had was limited. I still remember how amazed I felt, driving up to these gigantic beachfront houses with my mom. Single people had entire three story houses (with beach views) all to themselves. I would help my mom by carrying buckets up and down the stairs, occasionally  throwing in some cleaning help, but mostly, I would explore.

I would go into their gigantic libraries and read books, click through the hundreds of channels they had (this was the era of peak cable), look at kitchens brimming with utensils I had never seen before and fridges empty save for condiments and the occasional jar of olives. Once I opened a desk and found a thin layer of white powder. I closed it and did not tell my mom, guessing that some shady activities were up. I also didn’t want to loose my snooping privileges.

It was fun to get to go to these places, but I also remembered how confused I would feel when I came back to my house. Why didn’t I get to have any of those nice things? I watched my mom work her ass off everyday to make ends meet and to take care of me and my sister, and things just didn’t add up for me.

What did my family do wrong?

This country has historically consolidated resources for a white upper class by exploiting the labor of Black and Brown bodies. This used to look like slavery. Now it looks like “illegal” immigrants in the fields. Though both of my parents are immigrants, we were some of the lucky ones - my parents made it just in time to get citizenship under Reagan's amnesty policy, and while we still had a difficult time, it was nothing compared to the fear, anxiety, and utter dread that I saw the undocumented folks around me face.

I have undocumented friends who are scared. I have friends who work full time jobs doing hard labor, but put off root canals and let their teeth rot because they can’t afford the cost of treatment. I have friends who live precariously from freelance gig to freelance gig, scared to turn 26. I have friends who are retired and living in cities that are gentrifying out from under them, who watch the purchasing power of their social security checks get smaller and smaller every day.

This May Day, we have to center these voices. We have to remember everyone who actually works for this country, who does the labor, who has chipped into the social security pot, and we have to center those who are most exploited. When people like Trump spew hate about illegal immigrants stealing the jobs, they’re only doing that to distract you from the real problem - it’s those at the top, the ones whose families cost New York City more than 100k a day to keep safe, those who have made their fortunes off of exploiting everyone else.

Glendon Francis

Observing days like May Day allows traditionally censored topics centering unjust labour treatments and immigration to be amplified. Being a first generation college attendee and first generation U.S resident, I find myself having to work immensely harder just to receive ample respect in most spaces. Falling on the intersection of Blackness, immigration and Queerness leaves me in a sometimes uncomfortable position. Nevertheless, I embrace all aspects of my identity.

During this hazy political period, immigrants are even more vulnerable to violence and discrimination. The public propaganda is that we aren't deserving and our very existence is illegal— no human is illegal. Life was far more simpler prior to migrating to the states. Back in Antigua, there was and still is a sense of unity amongst us. We genuinely appreciate each other's presence and labour. In the states, employers tend to overwork documented and undocumented people.

Undocumented and documented folks oftentimes settle for undesirable jobs and the wages tend to be immensely low. Post migrating here, my mother babysat and took care of others around the clock just to provide for myself and my sister. She was weary, however she persisted. It is essential that employers compensate their employees equitably. I'm writing this brief note to all the overworked and weary immigrants.

I hear your outcries and I relate.

[tamiddyinyourcity]

1:57pm, life is never working out as planned.

Wednesday, January 15th of 2020.

So, what, everinthemotherlovingfuck, is pissing me off today, of all fucking days?

Shit that's on my mind, as of now:

I bought posterboards in hope to actually make a concept board for my songs, artwork, etc... and I overworked myself last night, while also punishing myself for not having sober thoughts at 2am to successfully finish a film idea.... thus, giving me negatively associated feelings towards creating things.

But working during the daytime is eh, since.... Dingy, unprivate bedroom? Ew. Living room? Filled and occupied with screaming children and an uninterested mother, who sees me as a pest.... Not great. And in terms of the library, I'm hesitant, mainly due to drudging my ass down there just to either stare at my phone, overwork myself to unhealthy points, or other factors.

I keep not eating. Fucks sake.

I was oh so close to 100% being over Patrick. I was confident, feeling great, not giving a fuck about him. Figured seeing Uncut Gems or something would help me at least get out of the house, or something. Plus, asshole or not, I enjoy hearing his perspective on movies. (Then the morning horniness and depression wave hit me like a truck, and back to Square One, in terms of the "Patrick is no longer gonna eat my pussy" speedbump to get over..... Healing isn't linear, and well, note to self... He may be decent company, but he's not so much a decent person.)

I'm spending too much money on uber, since yknow, months of having a significant other who was more than happy to go with me wherever I wanted, and save me the costs of a clipper card or ankle pains, late night creeps following me up the hill, or coming home freezing from the library..... Yeah, i was spoiled rotten, pretty much. Aaaaaand since the idea of going back to walking gives me major "fuck that shit" feelings.... yeah, i wont deal with it. If i gotta grossly take the bus tomorrow, wake up early, and take a bus or two for maybe an hour straight with no battery pack, and strangers who shit on seats, just for the sake of company..... i guess thats whats gotta happen. Since im not the most financially frivolous right now, and need to be especially careful!

I was hellla inspired last night to create until my mom shifted the conversation from "im making artwork and jumpstarting projects!", to immediately brushing it off in a doubtful and condescending way, then bringing up work..... Wow, i was in such a nice mood for everything too.....

My hair is trash. Aaaaand considering the "i blacked out and stole a jar of pens from a snotty receptionist that ruined my appointments, TWICE in a row......" I gotta deal with less trustable people for higher prices. I'm confident I'll find the right person, though. Not a huge fan of the Vegeta look, at this point in time with my current hairstyle goin on....

I can't find my hair cream for the life of me, though. I spent so much money buying it? Where did it go????? I NEED TO DETANGLE OR MY HAIRS GONNA FALL OUT EVEN MORE THAN IT DOES BITCH-

I want money. I don't wanna work. That's all. Eugh. :)

Alright.

Glad thats off my chest.

Solutions:

Buy groceries, dipshit, and eat whatever is inside of your fridge. No DoorDash or Chipotle for awhile. Go back to chugging Trader Joes Tomato Soup. Rice and broccoli with chicken broth. Those 2 dollar steak burritos. Itll feel way better to get out the house, enjoy the glares of vaguely threatening suburban fuckfaces, and triumph through the passive aggressive pain of bumping carts and rude scoffs, TO ACHIEVE..... drumroll, please.... GOOD FOOD THAT WILL LESSEN THE AMOUNT OF TIME NEEDED OUTSIDE OF MY HOOOOOUSE!

Interview the homeless again. Good company, less chance of loneliness. Would be nice to have people to check in with consistently again.

Your hair cream is somewhere in your big ass room, queen, you'll find it soon.

You don't have to be progressing every single day.... You can relax for a day, its okay. Just light your candle, eat some food, rest up. Its gonna be okay.

Your ideas are valid, and your singing voice is precious. Your songs matter to people. Your films will say a message that will stun and shock others. You're just lessened to it, since you've replayed these thoughts in your head over and over, so the ideas may not seem like much to you, but someday, they'll be cult classics. Hell, the person who made the Heathers film screenplay probably thought, "This movie is super weird, dark, awkward, and convoluted"... but people loved it nonetheless. If niggas can love The Purge, any Adam Sandler movie ever, or the most shitty frat comedies, overrated paranormal flicks, or teenage cringe horror comedies.... then, yours is gonna also be a hit. Seriously. :)

Alright, feeling better so far.

And hungry.

Do I wanna stay home and waste 15 bucks on Chipotle delivery, or go out, and get as much from Trader Joes as possible?

Let's charge my phone and head out, then.

Peace out, yalls. Have a nice rest of your days, fam. :)