#i know what to expect bc i’ve done a couple sessions before

[nervousyoungtwinfantasydog]

:/

[yunacoeur]

loser in love - kim taerae

a/n: i’ve been working on this for about a week now and it’s still shorter than i expected it to be. oh well, let me know if you like this! also who do i need to bribe at wakeone to give me jeonghyeon bc i miss him!!!! need him so bad

word count: 3.8k

zb1 | kim taerae, sunshine x grumpy au, angst, cute ending, communication issues trope, he fell first but she fell harder trope, college au, reader kinda sucks but they mean well <3

—

your professor assigns a two-person project in your philosophy class. it’s a paper on whether or not socrates was innocent or guilty of corrupting the youth.. or something like that. given you got a decent partner, it would take just a couple sessions at the library to get it done. you’re not even paying attention until someone walks up to you while you’re reading something on your phone. you look up to see a guy from your class you haven’t spoken to yet, though his reputation precedes him (yours must as well. he seems like he knows who you are). 

his name is taerae, you… think. he’s in the same friend group with sung hanbin and kim jiwoong, which already means he’s popular and well liked if he’s good enough to hang around with those kinds of guys. he’s always got this bright smile on his face, like a literal ray of sunshine walks through those doors every monday, wednesday, and friday. 

“hi,” he says to you, “i’m taerae. you’re my partner, right?” so you were right.

“yep,” you respond plainly. 

he awkwardly waits for you to maybe say something else, but when you don’t, he says, “are you available to meet at the library today? so we can get a headstart?”

yeah and did i mention he’s an amazing student? you couldn’t even imagine doing an assignment the day it was assigned, let alone actually do it, but it’s one less thing to worry about in three weeks and your future self will thank you.

“yeah, i can do 3,” you say and he smiles that bright smile that could make your heart flutter.

“alright, i’ll see you then!” he says, and then he’s off. 

you’re left right where you started, sitting at your desk, staring at your phone. you look over at the couple next to you, being way too excited that they got paired together. they’re doing way too much pda for a classroom and it reminds you, once again, that love is weird. not your style.

—

the first time you go to the library is 3 weeks before the due date.

“so which argument should we use? i think guilty would be more interesting to write about, but innocent is probably the easier side to defend.” he says, looking over at you after going over all his papers with that stupid smile again. it’s kind of annoying how immediately likable he is. 

“i don’t care. up to you,” you mumble, getting your laptop setup to write up your guys’ outline. 

he seems discouraged that you’re only responding to him shortly, but he refuses to give up, much to your dismay, “i want you to pick.” he says, small smile this time. his dimple is still visible, of course. 

“fine. we’ll argue that he’s innocent. what’s your email so i can share this doc with you?” you say, looking up at him, making brief eye contact. 

he’s silent for a second, just looking at you. 

and then suddenly it’s like his soul comes back into his body. “oh, sorry,” he says lamely, typing in his email on your keyboard and handing your laptop back you. he gets quiet for a second, and it makes the atmosphere weird and almost tense.

you feel the need to break it, “do you want to write the introduction and then first two arguments and i’ll write the third argument, the counter, and the conclusion?”

he smiles. you don’t even know why he would be smiling right now, but he has this look of fondness on his face, “sure. let’s work for an hour and then take a break. okay?” he says and you nod. 

you pretend not to notice the way he keeps looking at you, opening his mouth like he has something to say, and then giving up on that thought and going back to typing. 

—

“hi bestie,” you say as you walk up to taerae’s usual seat in the library. and there he is as always at this time. he doesn’t even know himself how he got you to show up here everyday (even if you barely did any work. you had finished your parts of the paper a week ago, but keep showing up to accompany him until he was done.) he can’t figure out why you keep showing up but he wont tell you to leave. 

“hey,” he says, not looking up from his laptop. 

“i got you something,” you tell him. he looks up, curious. 

you got him coffee when you got one for yourself, the exact thing he told you he liked last time.

it makes his heart skip a beat. maybe more than one.

—

“do you believe in ghosts?” he asks you as you type up a different assignment. the question catches you off guard, and you choose to stop your assignment and humor him for a second. 

“i guess so? why?” 

“why do you believe in ghosts?” he asks.

you laugh breathlessly, considering the true answer that you believe, “it just makes sense that they do. especially if their soul had unfinished business.”

“like what?”

“i dont know,” you shake your head, giggling at his persistence, “maybe they left someone they loved dearly behind, and they have to watch over them.”

loved… to love someone so dearly that you soul won’t rest until they find peace. your peace connected to theirs. how beautiful…

—

“do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he asks, suddenly. a part of you almost already knows what he means. you were always more similar than you gave yourselves credit for.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve never been in love. always so focused on music and my studies,” he admits, looking over at you, “am i missing out? it is nice to be in love?”

“well, unfortunately for you, you picked the one wrong person to ask,” you laugh at his defeated face, “ i’ve never been in love and i don’t really think i want to. it sounds lame. like i just wanna love my friends and myself. i don’t think romance is for me.” 

“yeah..? that sounds lonely,” he comments, but you shake your head.

“not lonely, just no one to break my heart.”

—

“if we keep going at this rate,” you say as you walk up to him and pull out your laptop, “we’ll probably only have to come to the library one more time. so this is what it’s like to be a good student.” you laugh to yourself as you sit down. he smiles faintly.

“yeah, for sure,” he says. almost looking down, like what you said upset him in some kind of way. it doesn’t make sense why. why would he want to keep working on philosophy assignments more than they have to?

— 

the supposedly ‘last’ time you go to the library is d-5 from the due date.

“do you really hate romance?” he asks, bringing up the topic again. he seems weirdly hung up on it.

“no, i never said i hated it. just not for me,” you sigh, “i’m not really a people person anyway. there’s no one i’d want to date even if i wanted to be romanced.”

ouch.

—

it’s d-day. a beautiful wednesday.

“hey!” taerae says, catching your attention as you get up to leave class. 

“what’s up?”

“can you meet after your classes today? would 3 work?” he asks, knowing full well you just submitted that paper with both your names on it. it was a+ material, what could be wrong about it?

“why? the project is over,” you say bluntly. he smile falters just a bit, but he catches himself and continues on.

“i… need your help to study,” he says, like he came up with it on the spot. 

‘you need… my help?’ you wanna say, but you don’t. you don’t call him out. 

“okay,” you say, “but i’m not staying long. just long enough to ‘help’ or whatever. see ya, tae.” you get up to go, but his hand stops you, grabbing your arm. 

“hey... uhm.. please come,” he says sincerely. something about this feels deeper than just ‘studying’. his eyes are showing how vulnerable he already feels. 

 “i will, taerae. i promise,” you say, “i'm honestly offended you think I'm gonna stand you up.”

he laughs with a bittersweet smile, “sorry!” as you walk off to your next class.

–

he’s sitting at one of those benches outside the library when you walk up to him. he doesn’t notice you at first, just playing on his phone. he looks so peaceful. 

and then he notices you, and smiles that signature smile, “hey! thank you for coming,” he says.

it’s just a tad bit confusing why he’s so hellbent on the idea that you wouldn’t want to come see him, or that it’s so important that you’re here. 

“i’m taking it that you don’t need help studying,” you smile back at him, and he shakes his head, “didn’t think so. you’re a star student.”

“i try my best,” he says, and you scoff at him. he barely tries. he’s just good at everything (except for math. but that’s math’s fault for being too complicated for him).

you shake your head at him, “okay, what did you wanna do?”

“i actually wanted to tell you something,” he starts. that smile of his fades when he gets anxious. he puts his hands in his pockets to hide how clammy they’re getting. you urge him to continue but he’s struggling to find the words, “i-i’m sorry, it’s hard to talk about.”

“it’s okay, tae, just breathe,”

he frowns, seemingly gaining the courage to say his thoughts, “i- i know this is- this is not what you want to hear because you’ve told me how you’re not romantically interested in anyone and you don’t want a relationship. you’re really clear about that and i respect that.”

he closes his eyes as he braces himself for how vulnerable he’s about to feel. he’s preparing to bare his heart out to you, when he knows you can’t care for it like he needs. 

“and i don’t want to make you feel pressured, but it feels wrong to hide it from you while i monopolize all your time,” he says, lowering his face to hide it from you. you can still see how red his ears are getting though, “i had to go and fall for the one person i couldn’t fall in love with.” he says it more to himself, like a criticism. ‘how could i do something so stupid, so self-destructive?’ he’s probably thinking, "I have feelings for you. i'm sorry."

“taerae…” you whisper, coming closer to try and comfort him, putting your hand on his arm. 

he shakes his head again, looking up with you with those darling eyes that make people fall for him left and right, “and it’s not fair to you, but it’s not fair to me either. you don’t want to be in love? that’s fine. but you can’t go and take my heart and write your initials on it like it belongs to you, and expect me to not feel it pounding in my chest for you. that’s…” it’s ironic that so many people probably have feelings for him and yet he’s here, baring his soul out to you, “cruel.”

his eyes, intentionally or not, are piercing into your soul in turn. it’s like he can see every last piece of your being, and it’s frightening to be that known by someone else. they’re pulling you in like a siren song, making you want to give it a chance, give him a chance. his eyes are doing every last thing to make you his, promising you to only ever be yours, to never hurt you, to always make you happy. 

maybe that’s why you left him there with nothing more than a squeeze to his hand and a “i’m so sorry,”. it was easier than looking into those beautiful eyes and tell him no. easier than watching his heart (with your initials on it) shatter.

—

and so you continue on with life. soulessly, you suppose, but every day keeps coming whether or not you want it to.

you keep checking your phone. it doesn’t even make sense why, because he’s probably too embarrassed and upset to text you. and he has every right to be upset at you right now. you left him when you got scared and haven’t even tried to say sorry, much less give him a proper response since that day. he has every right to be pissed at you.

and the shitty part is you know he’s not. because he’s taerae. because he was never mad at you. not when you bugged him when he tried to study. not when you barely worked during your library meetups. not when you were late and not when you were rude to him when you first had to start working together. 

he’s never been mad at you and you know every time you walk past him, he stops to look at you, hoping you’ll turn around, and the fact that you don’t is breaking him even more. all you know is that if he uses those puppy eyes on you one more time, all your resolve will crack. 

not falling in love was your main goal during college. years of being alone, part by choice and part by circumstance, made it so you felt you were better off by yourself. it’s hard to want other people when you’re not used to feeling wanted, and being in love just seems so scary.

were you in love with taerae? that was the real question, wasn’t it?

because he wasn’t that close of a friend. you had barely known he was more than an npc a few weeks ago, and you didn’t really know him that well. he was an enigma, a being you knew existed but nothing beyond his existence. and he wasn’t particularly charming. he was awkward. he was dorky. he didn't dress that well. he was really passionate about things and those things completely consumed him. he initially seemed like an anti romantic up until now, too focused on his passions and life to even think about love.

but every time he had said a dumb joke, you laughed. every time he tried to impress you with how cool he was, sure, it was kinda dorky, but you were impressed. and when he smiled at you, it felt like the world was okay in that instant. he gave you his jacket when he was cold once, he got your coffee before your study session once, and he cheered you on. 

maybe you did love him, but he must have given you no other option. nothing else you could do besides helplessly watching as he fundamentally changed who you were.

was it so bad to be in love with taerae? he’s beyond kind and has endless good will to give the world. and of course it was scary to be in love, but taerae wasn’t scary. he wouldn’t break your heart, he’d give you peace of mind and comfort. 

—

nothing sways you to talk to him quite like another person trying to flirt with him does. they’re attractive, a little mysterious, and intriguing from the get-go- if taerae’s crush on you was indicative of a type, they’d be his perfect match. 

they’re so clearly into him, you wonder if you looked like that when you hung out with him. maybe passerbys thought you were a couple before you were even friends. 

and he’s so clearly letting them flirt. he’s not making moves, but taerae doesn’t make moves like that. he wants to move slower than that. he doesn’t want to get into their pants, he wants them to romance him. he wants to feel courted. you’re not sure what you did to romance him, or how exactly your attitude made him feel courted. 

and it’s so hard to watch him be flirted with because you were the one who left him there. that could be you right now, but it’s not. taerae is letting someone else flirt with him and letting someone else tell him jokes and smiling that bright smile at someone else. that’s what really hurts. 

but you let them be while you jealously sip your coffee, talking to your friend sitting next to you.

“you need to talk to him,” they say, “you need to tell him about your feelings. even if you’re scared. he deserves honesty and you deserve to be happy.” 

and they’re right. you know they are. friends tend to be right about this kind of stuff.

and it takes all day to build up the courage. the second you think you could do it and make it out alive, you run over to his dorm room. it’s across campus, and you really could have just walked, but that means more time left alone with your thoughts, which is a big no no right now. 

—

it’s early in the evening, but even still you’re grateful that junhyeon took pity on you and took you to his dorm room that he shares with taerae. he left you guys alone to ‘talk’ he says with a smirk. if only you were sneaking in for something fun like that. and not to pour your heart out onto his floor and just hope that he’ll be okay with cleaning up the mess. 

“taerae!” you say as you burst into the room, locking the door as soon as junhyeon annoyingly shouts, “you're welcome!”. he looks up like a deer in headlights from his desk to see you tired, out of breath, holding the door against junhyeon until he gives up. he furrows his brows in confusion.

“what’s going on? are you okay?” he asks, "what's wrong? did someone say something?" he's got this look of protectiveness in his eyes. you wonder briefly if he thinks someone hurt your feelings and you came running to him for comfort. it's charming.

you shake your head, “i made a mistake and i came to fix it,” you say, that look in his eyes coming right back. like you’re back in that moment at the library. like it’s that fateful day again, with light wind in the forecast and pollen in the air. you remember nothing but how beautiful kim taerae looked and how painful it felt to run away. 

“i’m listening..” he says, trying to get you to continue, to say your side of everything, because you’re lost in thought and forgetting that he’s standing right in front of you.

you sigh, thinking maybe it’s best to back out, turning around to try the door. hopefully, junhyeon didn’t put a chair outside to keep you trapped so you could do 'things'. you almost commit to leaving, telling taerae you didn't have anything to say at all. it was easier than facing him. that’s when you see it. 

“what’s this?” you ask, pointing to the new bracelet in his pile of usual jewelry. 

“oh… my friend just got that for me, actually. i don’t think you’ve met that friend yet,” he says.

“was it the friend in the courtyard?” you ask, looking up at him. he can’t decipher the look in your eyes, but he nods. you’re half expecting a ‘how did you know i was in the courtyard?’ but you know he’s not going to pry like that. 

“taerae, i-” you start to say, and he looks up again, that hopeful look in his eyes. if you were a better person, you would have noticed how he looked at you the first time and never, ever let someone hurt him. even yourself. 

but you weren’t that person. you’ll learn to be that person now, though. his pretty smile depended on it. 

“i’m so sorry for leaving you there,” you say, getting right into it, “i’m sorry i never gave you a proper response to what you told me, and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to gather my thoughts. i’m so sorry, i feel horrible for how you must have felt when i left after you said all of that.” 

“it’s okay,” he tells you. it’s not and you both know it, “you don’t have to feel the same about me. that was my fault for falling for you and coming on so strong about my feelings. you weren’t ready for it and i scared you. i was in the wrong.”

and it hurts to know he’s still going to apologize after all of this. he’s too kind and too pure of heart. 

the bracelet comes back to your mind. and you have no right to be jealous because that person did nothing wrong. they were honestly probably a good distraction for him while you were being a coward. but the bracelet, a marker of something of theirs being on his wrist. the thought left a disgusting feeling in your stomach. it was clear in that moment exactly how you felt. 

you come closer to him, suddenly emboldened by the jealousy of a gift another suitor got him and the fact that he was so wrong in his assumption of how he felt. he takes a step back when you get a little too close, like he’s nervous. not scared, but timid about what’s going on. his breath hitches when you look down at his lips like you could devour him. you were so obvious. 

“taerae,” you say, and one last time, he looks up at you with doe eyes, “i thought i didn’t have feelings for you. and then i watched myself break your heart. i knew right there and then that these emotions couldn’t have been caused by anything other than me having feelings for you. i didn’t want to admit it, to you or myself, but…” you trail off, forgetting the last words of your sentence when his eyes find your lips, like he wants to have you now, finally knowing there’s shared emotions there, “i thought i didn’t feel anything romantic for people at all, like i was soulless, and you proved me wrong.” 

“...why did you run?”

“i was scared. i’ve always been afraid to fall in love. i kept thinking, ‘what if he broke my heart?’. i realized how dumb it sounded because… it’s just so unlike you,” you smile at him, seeing all the innocence and kindness in his eyes, and wonder how you ever could have felt scared to fall for him, “and i saw them flirt with you. i told myself i couldn’t be jealous, but it’s hard to not be. i wanted you first, kim taerae. i know it’s not up to me, but they couldn’t have you. i couldn’t let that happen.”

“...come take me then,” he says, still staring at your lips. he really won’t make the first move, will he? you smile to yourself as you step closer, pressing your lips to his briefly, pulling away, and then again, just… not so briefly this time. he pulls away first because lord knows you couldn’t have, “so what happened to ‘i never wanna fall in love’?”

“i didn’t want this initially, you know. falling for you was never a choice,” you say. he laughs with all his chest.

“such an anti-romantic. glad i could turn you,” he smiles, “i’m just happy, in all your hatred of romance and pickiness for people, you picked this loser.”

oh taerae, you’re not a loser. you’re just in love.

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | one

A/N: Here’s the beginning of my new mini-series!  I hope you all enjoy it.  It will definitely be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, so be prepared!  There will be five parts!

SUPPORT MY WRITING HERE: https://ko-fi.com/spine_buster

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                   *     *     *     *     *

Brock Boeser felt like he was at some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, with everybody around the circle introducing themselves and their similar predicaments.  The group was in a big meeting room at the local community centre, and when he walked in, he saw a group of dads playing basketball in the gym.  He sort of wanted to join them instead of being here, in this room, with all these people that he didn’t know talking about what they were going to talk about, but he’d done this back in Minnesota, at his mother’s behest with his siblings, and he was going to do it here, too, in Vancouver, to make her happy and ease her mind and to make sure that he was easing his own mind.  

“Um, hello everyone.  My name is Brock Boeser.  I’m from Minnesota, but I’m living in Vancouver.  And um, I’m here with you all because my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.”

“Hello Brock,” everyone smiled at him, and he smiled and nodded back.

“So it was your dad that was diagnosed,” the leader, a kind, older woman named Esther who had greeted him at the door and stuck with him until everybody sat down, egged on a conversation.  He knew she was doing it because he was new; everybody in this room probably already knew each other.  A part of him actually wondered if anybody knew who he was.  “When?”

“Um, he—he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2010,” Brock revealed, stuttering it out.  He knew he’d have to be open at these things – open so people could empathize with him, open so he could empathize with others – but it was still tough for him to do so.  “But he—it’s—it’s not just Parkinson’s.  Two years after he was diagnosed, he was in a car accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury.  In 2017, he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He beat it but then in June it returned to his liver and chest.  In July, he had a heart attack and his heart stopped beating for 15 minutes.  I was with him and—I—it’s—it’s a lot, as you can imagine,” he tried not to start crying right then and there.  Imagine that – first meeting with a Parkinson’s Society of BC support group and he’d bawl like a baby.

“Goodness me, Brock,” Esther said.  “He has support at home?”

“Um, well, money isn’t an issue now, but when I was growing up my mom worked three jobs to make sure we were all taken care of,” he revealed.  “I’d pitch in too wherever I could, obviously.”

“But it’s been tough for a number of years.”

Brock paused.  It had been tough for a number of years.  It had been really tough for a number of years.  He nodded his head.  “Yes ma’am.  I try to take it day by day.”

Esther nodded as well.  “I don’t know if you pray, Brock, but I know a couple of members around the circle do, and, well – you’ll be kept in all our prayers.”

Brock saw a few people nod their head.  Another older woman, probably his mom’s age, clutching a rosary; a Sikh man dressed in a casual suit; a younger woman, probably in her thirties, with short blonde hair.  He appreciated the sentiment.  He knew that people took prayer very seriously – that people suffering took prayer very seriously.  It was, realistically, one of the kindest things somebody could ever say to you: “I’m praying for you.”  “Thank you very much,” he said, nodding his head once.

***

There was an arrangement of cookies at the end of the meeting.  Even after the 90 minutes of everybody talking about their experiences and emotions, they apparently liked to stick around afterwards as well just to mingle.  It didn’t all have to be doom and gloom, he thought.  It didn’t all have to be about Parkinson’s or about sick people or losing your loved ones all the time.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about the news.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about sports.  The weather.  Anything.  Anything to make a connection with someone beyond something so tragic.  

After stuffing an entire Fudge-O cookie into his mouth, he looked up to see a young woman staring at him, holding her trenchcoat in her arms.  She was smiling to let him know she was friendly.  He was embarrassed because he knew she just saw him stuff an entire Fudge-O into his mouth.  “Hi,” he said, his mouth still full of cookie, the sound of his voice reflecting that fact.

“You’re Brock Boeser, right?” she asked sweetly.  “You play for the Vancouver Canucks?”

“Yeah,” Brock couldn’t help but smile.  He swallowed the rest of the cookie even though he didn’t really finish chewing it.  “That’s me.  Are you a fan?”

“My step-brothers are more so than I am,” she said.  “But I’m a fan of the team, yeah.  I’m Grace Gillespie,” she extended her hand to shake his.  “God, they’re not gonna believe me when I say I met you.  They’re gonna freak.”

Brock couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.  “Do you—I mean, do you want a picture?  I don’t mind at all.  I’ll sign an autograph on a napkin if you want me to.”

“Well…it’s a bit awkward to ask you at a Parkinson’s Society of BC meeting, but we could go to the Starbucks down the street and I could buy you a coffee.”

Brock was slightly taken aback at her forwardness.  He shouldn’t have been.  Girls came up to him all the time.  All the time.  And they were most definitely not shy.  But he wasn’t exactly expecting it to happen here, of all places.  A bar, sure.  Out with Petey or any of the other guys, absolutely.  But not here.  “Yeah…yeah sure,” he stuttered out.

“Then we should go,” Grace smiled.  She turned to look behind her.  Brock saw Esther picking up a few Oreos.  “Thank you for leading another great session, Esther,” Grace said.  

“Oh you are most welcome Miss Gillespie.  How is Hamish these days?  You didn’t speak much today.”

“He’s been doing fine lately.  His caregivers have been working around the clock for him.  They just work wonders, don’t they?”

Esther nodded.  “They are angels on Earth.  Anyways – we’ll catch up next week,” she said, leaning slightly on her leg to look beyond Grace and to Brock.  “I hope to see you here again next week, Brock.”

“Thank you, Esther.  See you next week,” he said, realizing he made the commitment before he could even realize what he was saying.

***

“I take that was your first meeting?” Grace asked as she set down the two lattes on the table against the window where Brock was waiting.  

“Was it really obvious?” Brock asked.

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t want to make him feel self-conscious.  “It was the stuttering that gave it away, at least to me.  I know I stuttered a lot the first few times I came to these meetings.  I wasn’t the most comfortable talking about my dad’s condition to a room full of virtual strangers.  But within just a few months I realized the people in that room are the kindest, most empathetic, most amazing people that I’ve ever interacted with.  So I became a lot more open.”

Brock was transfixed by every word that Grace was saying.  “So you’ve been coming here a long time,” he said.

Grace nodded.  “My dad got diagnosed with Parkinson’s when I was fourteen.  I didn’t start coming here until I was about eighteen, though.”

Brock knew he shouldn’t ask.  He knew he shouldn’t.  But his brain had ulterior motives, and his mouth – well, his mouth listened to his brain, because it apparently needed to know.  “Is your—is your dad like my dad?” he asked.  “Does he have, like, other problems complicating things?”

Grace shook her head.  “No,” she said softly.  “But the Parkinson’s is enough for him.  I mean he was diagnosed just short of ten years ago and he’s already on puréed foods.  It’s not—I mean, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t regularly develop that fast.  But that’s…I don’t know how you do it.”

Brock didn’t know either.  Some days he didn’t.  “I just take it day by day,” he said simply, just like he said in the meeting.  “If I think about it too much…that’s when it’s bad.”

“I hear ya,” Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee.  “But let’s…not talk about this for too long.  Do you like Vancouver?  Do you find it nice?”

Brock appreciated the change in topic.  “I love it here,” he nodded his head, smiling.  “The city’s great.  The fans are great.  My teammates – I mean they’re amazing.  What do you do?”

“I’m a dance teacher at Goh Ballet – little kids and teens, mostly.”

He wasn’t expecting that.  She was drop dead gorgeous, sure – Brock wasn’t blind – but he wasn’t expecting to hear she was a dancer.  “Do you, like, dance in the real ballet?”

Grace snorted slightly at his phrasing of ‘real ballet’.  “No.  I pursued it only up until a certain point.  I was good, but uh, I stopped when my dad got diagnosed.”

“Why?  Don’t they always tell people like us to have, like, an outlet or whatever?”

“They do.  But I loved my dad more than I loved dance.  And I would have rather spent the time that I was spending on dance with him instead.”

He understood where she was coming from, and he wasn’t there to judge her.  “And your brothers you mentioned, did they help too?”

“Oh no no no.  Sorry – I should have specified.  I’m an only child.  Like, the only child between my parents.  But they divorced when I was six and when my mom re-married I gained two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo.”

“How was the divorce?” Brock found himself asking.

“You ever see footage of a nuclear bomb exploding?” Grace giggled as she asked the question.  It caused Brock to laugh too even though the analogy she was making was dreadful.  “It was awful.  The type of divorce nobody deserves, you know?  I became a pawn, basically, and my parents would only speak to each other through lawyers.  Even stuff concerning me.  It was bad.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“It was.  But it’s the only life I know,” she said.  “He was lucky my mom ended up marrying another rich guy.  I mean, my mom only marries rich men,” she giggled slightly again.  “That’s how Jasper and Theo became my step-brothers.”

“So your family has money?” Brock clarified.  “What’s it from?  Dad a lawyer or something?”

“Not exactly,” Grace said.  “My dad and his brothers own a private equity firm that started like this,” she pinched her fingers together, “and went like…” she continued, spreading her fingers and moving her hands around her like a bomb explosion.  “Gillespie Brothers Investments.  I’m sure as a Vancouver Canuck you’ve heard of them.  I mean they wanted to buy the Canucks before the Aquilinis.”

Brock hadn’t heard of them, but he now knew he’d have to do some snooping when he got home. “I haven’t heard of them.  But I mean – sounds like they were successful.”

“Three billion dollars is pretty successful to me,” Grace quipped.

“B—Billion,” Brock sputtered out.  “With a B.”

“With a B,” Grace nodded.  Brock had no idea he was sitting across from the daughter of a billionaire.  She didn’t act like a billionaire.  Not like Brock knew what billionaires acted like.  He’d never met one before in his life.  Well, besides Francesco.  “But tell me more about what you like about Vancouver.  What about the nature?  I always kind of fine a good long walk along the Seawall or through Stanley Park really clears my mind from all…this.  What about you?”

Brock smiled.  “I find the white noise of downtown clears my mind.”

***

“You want my number,” Grace said as a statement rather than a question as she and Brock exited the Starbucks.  They were kicked out.  They’d been there for so long that they’d been kicked out because they were closing.  Their coffees had gotten cold.  They hadn’t ordered new ones.  And now they found themselves on the deserted sidewalk, jackets put on hastily, and Grace came up with that.

Brock looked down at her.  They’d been able to look into each other’s soul for the past few hours.  “Of course I want your number,” he said.  There was no reason to hide it.  No reason to deny it.  No reason to have to wait until next week to see her again as they sat around in a circle in a community centre talking about their parents.

He took out his phone.  She gave him her number.  He texted his name to hers so she’d have his.  When that dance was done, she looked up at him.  “I’m really glad I met you tonight,” she said, her voice sincere.

Brock nodded.  “I’m glad I met you too.  I—I really enjoyed this.  And I mean—I needed it.”

Grace smiled, nodding her head.  “I needed it too.”

“D’you—” Brock stopped, trying not to get too far ahead of himself.  “D’you need a ride home?”

“Oh no no, my driver is right there,” she motioned her head towards a black Mercedes waiting by the curb.

Brock hadn’t noticed the car until now.  “Chauffeur?”

“Billionaire dad,” she winked.  Brock understood.  She took a few steps back before smiling one more time.  “Call me,” she said, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking towards the Mercedes and getting into the backseat.  Brock watched as it drove off, making a right at the end of the street.

He would definitely be calling.

[binniesthighs]

shy and inexperienced reader first time with jisung🥺 fluffy smut with han bc he's just so cute and i think he would be so gentle and loving ahh maybe im crying -🐱 (umm i was the one who requested that neighbours to lovers w lee know n i decided to be 🐱 anon from now on also im looking forward to it i cant wait!!! ik ur gnna write the cutest thing ever ur great i love youuu)

hello this is the cutest thing ever??? and hello 🐱anon omg!! welcome welcome eehee ♡ ah! also! I’m so hyped to get Two Tails going!! I hope that ya enjoyed the first part :) 

lets be honest, han jisung would be ready to go not even two weeks into the realtionship

please don’t fault him for it tho!! he just really really wants sexy cuddles and kisses all over his body, he literally daydreams about it all the time and can’t wait!

also he’s got you!! literally every little quirk about you turns him on, he’s sooo weak for you  

he’d never never bring it up though until you’re ready

and you’ve been thinking about it

come on we’re talking about the one and only han jisung here!! his charisma is through the roof!! he’d wink at you and your head would be spinning over how badly you’d love to have him do whatever he wants!!

there’s something about the way that he gives you shoulder massages or plays with your hair that just gets you aching to take it further with him

but, you haven’t done anything before 🥺outside of, of course, a couple make out sessions and that one day’s dry jumping that got you way more excited than you expected

so, jisung is sleeping over at your place (as he often will—“your bed is just so much comfier than mine!!”)

he’ll roll over to swoop ya up and hold you all close to him, nuzzling is head into your shoulder.

theres nothing cozier than your ball of sungie hehe—sidenote

you being the little spoon, you’re often VERY aware of how both of your hips kinda interlock

you barely know how to initiate, so you start grinding into his lap, making extra effort to let your ass brush up against those soft cotton boxers of his

he’d giggle “what are you doing?”

“i just like how it feels” you mutter quietly

“what’s that babe? can you say that again?”

this time you grind down harder, and he feels it

jisung groans out a bit, then pulls you into him, no space between your bodies while you continue. he’s gulping down every little bit sensation he can feel

knowing how he’d never want push your boundaries, he’d even be okay letting you grind an orgasm out of him just like this

but that’s not what you want

jisung would kiss careful lips into your neck where your shirt collar dips a little, letting you hear his needy little gasps in your ear

he’d whisper, “can I please touch you?”

you immediately nod, getting that feeling once again: you want to be completely at his mercy.

you're too embarrassed to ask for anything in specific, but would much rather him do anything he’s been imagining

immediately his hands are all over you skin, touching you in places you’ve never been touched before, you didn’t even know you could feel this way

jisung’s hands fall up and down your body: all over and around your legs, digging into the skin of your thighs and waist, up on your chest too, spreading his fingers out so he doesn’t miss an inch.

he’s got calluses on his finger tips from playing guitar that day, but feeling the rough skin on yours makes you tremble

he nibbles at your ear too while his hands reach your hardened nipples which hurt a little under the fabric of your shirt. he pinches and pulls at them, creating a whole new sensation

the sounds you’re making are so foreign, you had no idea you could do such a thing but you can’t stop at all

“are you ready tonight? is this what you want?”

your voice cracks giving him your affirmation

“baby you’re so perfect. i’ve waited so long for you, I only want to make you feel good. just relax okay?”

Jisung’s hand returns to your waistband where he reaches in from behind you to ghost over your wetted underwear.

“oh my god,” he nearly growls into you ear

by now he’s nearly panting into you while he explores your arousal, reaching under your underwear at last

for good measure, you grind down as hard as you can into his lap while he traces your throbbing sex first, then begins to rub at you as slowly and carefully as he can

pressed against your ass, his twitching hard-on swells by the second

with his free hand, he continues exploring your body, steadily maintaining his pace below your waist

“do you like this? shit, you’re unreal.”

your face is furiously warm, and you even feel like hiding your face even though he can’t really see it from behind you

“mm-so…good.” you whimper, then find yourself now grinding into both his hand and his lap

“are you ready for more?”

his vibrato lowers while he brings his lips back to your neck, this time pulling at the skin and marking you as his

“m-more.” you barley manage to squeak

jisung pulls your sleepshorts and underwear off, then does the same to himself

suddenly under the sheets it feels a lot warmer

from behind you, jisung grabs at his hardened dick to tease your enterance with his tip—something that drives you mad with desire for him to just fucking start already—but you’d never find the words to say so

jisung lets shakey breaths of his fall all over your shoulder as he guides himself in, and sinks down just slightly to get the best angle he can

he pushes himself into you fully, stretching out your neglected hole until it hurts just a little

jisung grunts out a string of explicit words while clawing into your frame and gifting kisses to your back

you moan out a little in response while you get used to the feeling of him being inside you. he smooths down your whole shaking body while he lets himself bottom out within you

“you feel so amazing baby, you’re doing so good, so good. are you okay?”

you nod, but that’s not the answer jisung was looking for

“I’ll only accept a yes, okay?”

your fingers dig deep into your pillowcase. “Yes, yeah I’m okay, can you…keep going?”

“of course my love. tonight I’ll take it slow. I can’t promise the same for other nights though.” He laughs a little to himself

Jisung’s makes his first thrust and your body feels explosive. his length and girth are perfect for you, and this deep inside he gives you another round of pleasure that feels dream-like

he sets a pace, slow are careful while holding your back firmly against his chest.

“oh god” he exclaims once, then repeats the phrase more once he starts to reach deep inside

jisung holds onto you as if his life depends on it and he fucks you deeper, relishing each and every pretty little moan that escapes your lips

“can you do it louder for me baby? say my name when you cum for me hmm?”

you’re even more flustered from his request, but gather up all your will to not let him down.

his breath quickens and he starts to go a little faster, building up an orgasm within you with astonishing speed

“god, I love you.”

his hips snap while his pace becomes frantic, just as you’re both about to cum, he reaches down once more to rub into you needily and lovingly

“-gonna cum—cum with me?”

he pleads into your skin, then with a couple more whips, his cum is seeping inside your hole with an unexpected warmth. you’re already addicted to the way his dick throbs inside you as you’re both in aftershocks

you remain this way for a while, simply soaking up every bit of intimacy you can feeling connected in this new way

“did that all feel good for you?” he sweeps some strands of your hair from your eyes, pulling you back slightly to press kisses now on your lips

“I really liked it” you timidly let up, coupled with a giddy little smile

he gives you another one of those winks that makes your heart race 

“I can’t wait to do more with you angel, this is only just the beginning.”

[wondernimbus]

stressful times — fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x female!reader

request #1: Can I request soft Fred Weasley comforting his girlfriend when she’s not feeling well/on her period and falling behind in classes/ homework? Pretty please 🥺

request #2: Can you write a Fred x reader where the reader is on her period while at Hogwarts during a time when a lot of tests are happening and she needs to be studying but isn’t and Fred notices cause usually she’s like Hermione and always does homework/studies and he figures out why she isn’t and helps her feel better? 

a/n: THIS IS WAY OVERDUE IM SORRY but i decided to combine these 2 reqs bc they were pretty similar !! 

[Y/N] is stressed.

School has never been a piece of cake for anyone—not even for Hermione Granger, who is one of the brightest people at Hogwarts, and certainly not for her, one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's Chasers, and on top of that, a prefect currently studying for her N.E.W.Ts.

Wood expects her to practice out by the Quidditch pitch every free period in preparation for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff. This goes for every member of the team—even the ones who, like [Y/N], are studying for the so-called "big exams". And despite [Y/N] wanting to do well in her tests, she also doesn't want to lose her position in the Quidditch team—so she goes to the practice sessions, anyway, even if it's at the cost of her sleep.

That—coupled with her prefect duties and schoolwork—is wearing her out. So far she has managed to miraculously plow through, but when that time of the month comes and she can barely even bring herself to get out of bed, [Y/N] begins to wonder whether giving up would be a better option.

She could do it. Drop everything and lay in bed all day for the next week or so with a bag of chocolates at her side and pillows cushioning her entire body.

She could—technically, anything in the world is possible—but she shouldn’t, because she has obligations. Prefect tasks; patrolling the corridors and making sure no first-years go astray in the Forbidden Forest (it already happened once—she's not going to let it happen again), N.E.W.T. revisions, homework, Quidditch practice, homework, and then even more homework—

The very moment she wakes up and feels the pain in her lower abdomen, she knows she is done for. She only barely drags herself out of bed and trudges to her classes the entire day feeling like pure and utter dung. Her entire body is sore and her entire mood cranky, but that hardly matters because she has homework to do. And classes to go to. And Quidditch practice and patrolling and studying and Merlin-knows-what-else.

The sourness of her mood doesn't go amiss by any of her friends, and certainly not by her boyfriend, Fred Weasley, who automatically just knows when something is out of the ordinary with her. And while her friends decide to leave her alone after noting her less than pleasant mood, Fred does quite the opposite.

Which is, of course, no different from what he does everyday: stick by her side like glue. And while they'd been best friends for a while, it's only been a few months since Fred finally sucked up the courage to ask her out. So naturally Fred has very little experience with, ah, women’s dilemmas.

To put it simply, he doesn't know how to deal with a girl on her bloody (no pun intended) period. For the love of Merlin, he can't even tell.

So he's a little surprised and his feelings are a teeny bit hurt when he nudges her in the middle of Charms class and whispers, "Was that an earthquake? Or did you just rock my world?" only for her to shake her head without even as much as looking at him.

And so Fred's thought process goes like this: he's done something terribly wrong. He doesn't know what, but he must have, and now he has to make up for it—whatever it is.

First, though, he has to figure out what.

—

It's midnight. [Y/N] doesn't know how on earth she managed to get through the entire day without passing out, but she did and now here she is in the nearly empty common room, sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace with several sheets of parchment and open textbooks splayed out before her.

Jotting down History of Magic notes, her face is scrunched up in the utmost concentration. Fred watches her from where he's sitting on the couch, pouting a little.

"Don't you think you should be resting by now?" tries Fred, the concern in his voice audible as his gaze darts from her to her homework.

She doesn't respond. Fred sighs and gets up off the couch to sit down next to her on the ground. But even then, she doesn't look up from her homework, so Fred takes matters into his own hands and reaches out with his hand to gently cup her cheek, trying to tilt her head towards him.

"Not now, Fred.." she mutters, leaning away from him a little to keep writing. His hand hovers in mid-air, fingers now just barely brushing her face as she's moved away. "I have to.. finish this.."

Her tongue is poking out in concentration as she almost feverishly moves her quill over paper. Fred tries not to feel too dejected and lets her be, waiting until she's broken out of her trance enough to grab her attention again. In the meantime, he props his elbows on his knees, the pout on his lips very much evident as he watches her work. He still doesn't know why she's been acting so distant, and no matter how much he tries to mull things over in his brain, he still doesn't know why exactly she's angry at him. Or if she even is angry.

Was his pick-up line really that bad? Could it maybe be because he'd kept trying to play with her hair in potions class the other day? Or is it because of what he did last week, when he’d talked McGonagall’s ear off about how wonderful a girlfriend he had? Maybe Fred should've been a bit more considerate—[Y/N] has always been a teacher's pet, after all, and he knows that the teachers themselves were surprised when they found out that she was dating him, one-half of the devious Weasley twins who had six O.W.L.s combined..

[Y/N]'s hand stills, and for a moment Fred thinks she's finally finished her homework, but her shoulders have bowed a little and her eyes have closed. The effect this image has on Fred is instantaneous: the pout on his lips is replaced quickly by a fond smile as he lets out a quick breath of slightly dubious laughter and moves to gently tap her on the shoulder.

Slowly, slowly, her eyes blink open.

Another tiny laugh. "You fell asleep for a second there, love," says Fred softly, hand moving to touch her hair, and he's so bloody endeared by her it hurts. Voice a mere mumble like he’s afraid of speaking too loud, he says, "Reckon we should turn in for the night, yeah? You and me both."

There's silence as she exhales, leaning into his touch almost unconsciously as her eyes close and her shoulders slump. "I'm really tired," she tells him quietly, nose wrinkling a little as her mouth stretches open in a yawn. (Good grief, Fred's heart aches.) He scoots forward a little into her, gathering her into his lap where she almost automatically curls up, head on his shoulder and her lips just barely grazing the side of his neck.

Fred can't even remember what he'd been agonizing over just moments before. All his fluttering heart cares about at the moment is his sleepy girlfriend, who's shifting a little in his lap to get herself more comfortable, mumbling something inaudible in her half-asleep state. He has to physically suppress himself from throwing his head back and laughing out loud, because something about the situation he's in is making him feel oddly euphoric. He only has to think about if for a few moments before he realizes why: it's because of how adorable she's being. And Fred’s heart might be melting in his chest—should he be concerned?

"I'm gonna carry you up to your dorm, okay?" says Fred, tone just loud enough to make himself heard but quiet and soft enough so as to not jar her awake. He feels her nod a little against his shoulder. Carefully, he gets to his feet, one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back the way a groom would carry his bride. (The thought crosses Fred's head very briefly and just like that he's smiling goofily to himself.)

And the moment is romantic and intimate in a quiet, calming way, until Fred makes the big mistake of murmuring, "I'll fix up your homework and bring it to you so you can work on it tomorrow" and [Y/N] quite literally freezes in his arms. Her entire body goes rigid.

"Homework. Oh, crap." Fully awake now, she lifts her head off of his shoulder, looks back at her pile of homework still on the ground, and then, her panicked eyes meeting his, she says, "Oh, no. No. I can't—I've got to get it done now, Fred."

An incredulous sound tumbles past his lips. "I could've sworn you were asleep two seconds ago.”

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds before peeling them open again. Fred notes that the bags under them look even more pronounced up close; something that has him frowning at her. “Put me down, please? I really have to get that essay done."

He huffs, shakes his head, and starts walking towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. "What—" [Y/N] yelps, looking up at him with an expression that suggests he’s admitted to strangling a rabbit. "Fred, I said put me down—"

"And let you work yourself to death? No can do, love." Fred looks down at her, lips pressed together in a sorry smile as he shakes his head. He lifts his gaze back away from her as he begins climbing up the steps, trying not to jostle [Y/N] too much in his arms. His tone sing-song, he says, “You need to rest. The essay can wait."

[Y/N] opens her mouth to predictably retaliate, but Fred stops halfway up the staircase and presses a kiss to her lips, effectively cutting her off. At first she’s stiff, but it only takes her a few seconds to relax and melt into him.

When Fred pulls away with one last peck to the lips, he smiles down at her, eyes twinkling. “Have I changed your mind with my superior snogging skills?”

Unable to help herself, she lets out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. But even then her gaze lingers on her homework, still on the floor in front of the fireplace—totally not yet finished—

“But I’ve only got a few pages left to go,” she says in one last stroke of adamancy.

”And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you stay up all night without getting enough sleep?” They’ve reached the top of the staircase now, and Fred is fumbling with the doorknob of her dorm room, trying to open it with one hand without having to set her down.

“But Freddy.”

Fred pauses trying to open the door, lips unconsciously twitching up into an incredulous grin as he raises his eyebrows at her. Of course she had to use his one big weakness against him—he loves when she calls him Freddy. Or perhaps love is a severe understatement, because he always goes all putty in her hands whenever she sings it into his ear or shouts it at him from all the way across the hallways.

But Fred isn’t having it, not this time. “But [Y/N],” he mimics her tone, still grinning, and the voice in his heart tells him to peck her lips again, so he does. “I'm telling you, love, you need sleep. And besides, we’re already here—once I get this door open—aha!”

The door clicks open and reveals behind it the dark seventh year girls’ dorm room. Fred peers inside, unsure as he steps a single hesitant foot through the door, and then he withdraws back into the landing. “Suppose I'll have to drop you off here,” tuts Fred. “Can’t really barge into an all-girls dorm room in the middle of the night—even when I’m with you. Mum would have my head.” Gingerly, he sets her down on the ground, making sure she’s standing up completely before he takes his hands away. Grinning, he holds his palm out towards her and says, “That’ll be twenty galleons.”

”I didn’t even ask for—“

“A kiss, then.”

And her incomplete homework is still lingering in her head, bothering her—she really does need to have that done at least before breakfast tomorrow—but Fred is standing in front of her with the same playful smile that [Y/N] has never learned to resist so she sighs and stands on her tip-toes, places her hand on the back of his neck, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Fred is smiling—she can feel it against her lips. Eventually she starts smiling too, unable to help herself. When she pulls away, Fred cups her cheeks in his hand and pecks her forehead—and then her nose, and her cheeks, and her eyelids, and then she’s laughing, saying, “What are you doing?”

Fred lands another kiss to the tip of her nose, then drops his hands back to his sides. “You look far too lovely for someone in dire need of sleep.”

At the mention of sleep, a yawn tears its way out of her throat. Fred has to restrain himself from doubling over and sobbing because Merlin’s beard was that adorable.

”Fine,” [Y/N] says through yet another yawn, hand coming up to rub at her eyes. “Fine. Maybe I am tired.”

Fred gasps far too dramatically. “Who ever could have guessed?”

[Y/N] may be sleepy, but she still has enough strength within her to reach out and shove him lightly by the shoulder. Fred is as theatrical as always; he clutches the spot where she’d touched him as though he’s been fatally wounded.

She rolls her eyes, smiling. Another yawn. Fred drops his act and shoves his hands into his pockets, expression somber as he looks at her, eyes dancing over her own tired ones. “Go get some sleep, alright?”

She purses her lips, shoulders slumping in defeat as she nods. “Okay. Suppose I’ll just try to finish it as fast as I can tomorrow.” And then, voice going soft, she says, “Thanks, Fred.”

Fred is so goddamned endeared.

“And. Um.”

”Yes?”

“Sorry about being so bloody cranky. I'm—“ she pauses, eyes darting away for a moment as she gestures wildly to nothing in particular.

Fred raises his eyebrows.

“On my period,” she mutters. “Have I made it awkward? I'm sorry. I just didn’t want you to think you’d done something wrong for me to be acting.. you know.”

Fred’s brows have risen so far up his forehead he’s surprised they haven’t disappeared into his hair. His mouth has fallen open a little in surprise; whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it certainly hadn’t been that. But part of him is relieved at the knowledge that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your tea,” says Fred teasingly. She rolls her eyes again—another yawn; the largest one so far, actually. He can’t help the fond laugh that tears its way out of his heart and past his lips. Reaching out, he places a hand on the back of her head and kisses her forehead. “Sweet dreams, love.”

She wraps her arms around his middle and nods into his chest, and Fred’s heart melts. “You too, Freddy.”

—

The next morning, [Y/N] wakes up to a mysteriously completed set of History of Magic homework and a bag of Honeydukes' chocolates on her bedside table.

[7-wonders]

I Can Love You Like That

Summary: How do you tell someone you love them without looking like you’re a traumatized victim of a kidnapping (even if you are exactly that)?

Word Count: 3255

A/N: After the slowest of slow burns...well, I’ll just let you guys read and enjoy (or maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll hate it. Either way, you’ll have read it, so ha!).

But for real, let me know what you think? I put a lot of work into this chapter and I would hate for y’all to be unsatisfied or displeased.

(Adding in the list of previous Mad Love chapters bc I’m stupid and forgot to)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

The first thing that you do when you finally make it home is surprising to Michael. He had expected you to fall into your bed and nap, or seek out your cat, or even go into the kitchen and start baking to distract yourself from the trauma you’ve endured. What he didn’t expect you to do was to lay on the grass outside and stare up at the clouds. 

“Uh, (Y/N)? Are you okay?”

You nod, refusing to look away from the beautiful, endless sky. “Just...enjoying the sky.”

“Do you need anything?”

This time, you shake your head. Michael shifts back and forth awkwardly, unsure of what he should do. It’s not like you’re willing to tell him why you’ve decided to lay on the grass. He’d look at you with more pity than he already shows when he hears that you’re enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin again after two weeks of thinking that you would never experience this again. 

“Okay,” he says cautiously. “I’m going to go inside and make a couple of calls I’ve been ignoring, then.”

You wave a hand nonchalantly in his direction. “Go call off Seal Team 6, Langdon. I’ll still be here when you’re done.” The door closes behind him after a moment of silence, and you let out a content sigh at the warmth your body is soaking up as you spread your arms to your sides.

As promised, you’re still in the same position that Michael left you in when he comes outside after a half an hour. He resumes his nervous shifting, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his hesitance. While you can understand why he would be treating you with such fragility, it’s still annoying to be on the receiving end of this.

“You can lay down with me instead of standing up, if you want.”

Michael doesn’t say anything, but you smirk triumphantly when you glance him laying down out of your peripheral vision. You can tell he’s never done anything so whimsical and carefree as laying down on the grass and finding shapes in the clouds, the stiffness of his limbs enough of a giveaway. Cautiously, Michael lays his hand palm-up on the ground as an open invitation to you. Stubbornness and knowledge wage a battle within your mind; although you would like to refuse his hand, you and he both know that your relationship has forever changed. Interlocking your fingers with his, he squeezes your hand as if to reassure himself that you’re actually here.

“I don’t have to have magic powers to know that you have a lot of questions.”

Michael laughs softly beside you. “You would be correct. I just...don’t know what’s okay to ask, or what I want to say.”

“Ask, I guess. If I want to answer it, I will. If it’s something I’m uncomfortable with, I’ll let you know.”

“I’m so sorry. For everything.” You look over at Michael to find that he’s already staring back at you. “Going to my father and complaining to him about your free will, which I love about you. Keeping things from you after the first time that he tried to poison you. That stupid fight we had. Getting you caught up in this in the first place.”

“Me being involved with you was not your fault, okay? I know that, and I need to make sure that you do too. You did not handpick me, or something like that. Your stupid dad told you what was going to happen, and you followed him because that’s what you’ve done your entire life.” You squeeze his hand to get him to look at you, shame averting his eyes up. “Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

A smile plays on your lips as you stifle a laugh. “God, I wish you knew pop culture, this could have been a perfect moment.”

“Why?”

“Nothing in particular.” It would take too long to explain to him.

“Was Madison the only one that physically harmed you?”

“Yeah. You know, for this tiny little actress who constantly wears designer clothes, she can throw a mean punch.” Michael doesn’t appreciate your joke, which is understandable.

“You won’t be pleased, but her death was extra painful.”

“I don’t want to say she deserved it, but…” But what? Are you really now condoning the deaths who have wronged you simply because your Antichrist husband has the ability to kill them? Said Antichrist husband can tell that you’re having a minor internal crisis about your forgotten sentence, and clears his throat to bring your attention back to the present.

“It’s okay to be conflicted about your feelings. She did terrible things to you, they all did. You don’t have to be happy about her being dead, but you certainly have no reason to mourn.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the one reassuring you.”

“I’m not the one who was kidnapped and beaten for two weeks,” he retorts. His eyes widen when he realizes what he’s said, but instead of getting angry, you giggle in amusement.

“Well alright then, is there anything else you want to ask me?”

“You’ve been through enough lately, you don’t need me pestering you with endless questions right now.”

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re more than a little relieved. Fatigue has started to settle in your bones, and the thought of a hot shower to wash off all of the grime that a daily five minute shower under ice cold water can’t remove is extremely tempting. Whether you’re just that transparent or Michael’s tapping into his supernatural abilities, it’s obvious to him that you’ve just about reached your limit in this Q&A session.

“If you want, I can see if the kitchen staff will make your favorite food?” Michael asks helpfully. 

“Honestly, I just kinda wanna go to bed early. I’ll eat something more substantial tomorrow, but I can survive on snacks tonight.”

“Whatever you want, (Y/N). You’ve been through enough lately, nobody’s going to force you to do something if you don’t want to do so.” Michael stands up, gently pulling you up with him.

“Thank you, Michael. For...being so kind and coming to rescue me when I was a damsel in distress.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “While I would do it a million times over, let’s hope that I don’t have to do that again.”

Once outside of your bedroom, Michael pauses before hugging you. “For somebody who never experienced hugs before meeting me, you’ve become very good at them.”

“Just...wanted to remind you that I love you.”

You want to say it back, but your throat tightens at the reminder of Madison’s words. “I know. Trust me, I do.”

With one last smile directed towards you, Michael lets go of your hand and watches you walk into your bedroom. Even after you’ve closed the door, he remains outside in the hall, waiting until the water starts running to reassure himself that you’re safe.

You’ve never experienced a more heavenly shower in your life. While you could have stayed under the warm flow of water for hours, the idea of coming out looking like a raisin is enough to convince you that 45 minutes is enough. As you lotion your skin and comb your hair, you take great care to study and feel each action. If there’s one good thing to come out of this experience, it’s that you’ll never take a convenience like brushing your teeth for granted ever again. Falling back onto your mattress, you revel in just how soft a bed can be. Before you can even think of getting something to eat, your eyes slip shut almost against your will. 

It’s been maybe an hour since you’ve fallen asleep when you suddenly wake, hands clutching at your chest as your heart feels like it’s going to burst. While you had assured Michael numerous times that you were feeling fine about everything that had happened to you in the past two weeks, it seems as though you were attempting to convince yourself more than him. The nightmare that woke you, of Cordelia plunging a knife into Michael’s chest while the witches made you watch before turning on you, is burned into your eyes like you were looking straight at a projector. The more that you try to calm yourself down, the more that you get worked up. Gathering your blanket around your shoulders and picking the cat up from her position at the end of your bed, you shuffle out of your room and down the hall.

You hesitate outside of Michael’s door, not sure if you’re making the right decision. Regardless of your self-doubt, the sliver of light peeking from under the door is beckoning you in from a dark hallway where your nightmares lurk in just the other room. Quickly knocking on the door, you let yourself in when Michael says your name.

He looks utterly domestic, propped up in bed with his long hair spilling carelessly over his shoulders. Ignoring the fact that he’s shirtless (why does he have to show off his flawless physique while he’s sleeping?), you smile at the book in his hands.

“You’re finishing the Harry Potter series?”

Michael glances at the cover, as if unaware of what he was reading until just now. “I couldn’t just finish the sixth book and not finish the series. I’m far too invested for that.”

“You’ll have to let me know your thoughts once you finish.” 

“I wasn’t aware that a book could surprise me, but Snape killing Dumbledore was something I had not anticipated.”

You laugh lightly in acknowledgement, but remain silent otherwise. Even though you’re Michael’s wife, you’re not sure of your place in his bedroom, which leaves you snuggling the cat as you wait for Michael to make the next move.

“Is there something wrong? I went to say goodnight to you about half an hour ago, but you were asleep.”

“I--do you think I could sleep in here tonight?” Michael does a terrible job at hiding his surprise, so you elaborate. “I had a nightmare, and I’d prefer to not be alone.”

“You know you don’t have to ask.”

Setting the book aside, Michael pulls back the covers and moves over to allow you an ample amount of space. The cat jumps out of your arms and settles at the end of the bed, happy to be with her favorite person...and you. Sliding in next to Michael, he allows you to determine just how close you want to be. You choose to lay right next to him, curling up with your head on his chest. Slowly, he wraps an arm around you, stroking his fingers through your hair when you don’t flinch away. While this is new territory for both of you, it’s comfortable.

“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” 

You shake your head. “It was nothing. Just…”

“Ah,” Michael says in understanding. “If it’s any consolation to your subconscious, I want you to know that I never stopped searching for you. It may have felt as though I had abandoned you, but I would never just leave you there.”

“I was worried,” you admit. “Especially after the way that our last conversation ended. There was so much left unsaid, and I thought I would never get to say anything to you again.”

“I worried too. I never got to tell you how sorry I was for my part in my father’s plan.”

“You already apologized this afternoon.”

“And I’ll continue to apologize for as long as I live.”

“I get it. I don’t want to say that you’re forgiven, because that was a really shitty thing to do.”

“Believe me, I know,” Michael laughs.

“But I understand just how powerful his influence is. Back when he pulled my subconscious into Hell, or the In-Between, or whatever you want to call it, I saw how persuasive he could be.” Michael knows that something more happened during that experience, something that you’re not telling him, but he lets it go for now.

“You don’t know how much this means to me, (Y/N).” He glances down at you, hesitant. “What...what did they do to you? During your captivity, I mean.”

“Besides Madison Montgomery using me as her personal punching bag? Not much in the way of torture. They made me brutally aware of the fact that I was bait so they could kill you and stop the world from ending. Kept me locked up in a windowless room for two weeks, forced me to listen to Myrtle droning on and on for hours on end.” Michael laughs at that, and you smile at the fact that your dumb joke is something that was able to take away from the sting of hearing you talk about your experience being kidnapped.

“I’m sorry about threatening Mallory.”

“She kind of deserved it.”

“Do you think you’ll ever talk to her again?”

“Wow, we’re really just knocking out all the tough questions tonight,” you sigh. “It’s only been a day since this happened, but I’ve thought about that numerous times. I used to think that, once someone betrayed your trust, they never got it back. However, in the course of our marriage, I’ve learned that there’s so many different factors that lead someone to make that decision, especially when it comes to the supernatural. If you would have asked me last year what I would do in this situation, I already know that I would have never talked to her again. I also would have thought I would never talk to you again, but I made up my mind as I was driving away that I was going to come back the next day.”

“While I’m not pleased that I messed up enough to be one of your examples, I am happy to know that you didn’t plan on leaving me for good.”

“I could never,” you say, “who else would I have to tease?”

Michael smirks. “You would have found somebody.”

“Nobody like you, though.” The way that your heart involuntarily flutters when Michael smiles at you, no matter how you try to convince yourself that you’ve developed a heart murmur, makes you think of your conversation with Madison. “You know, when Madison wasn’t physically assaulting me, we actually had a very interesting conversation.”

“You did?”

“She basically said that I’m stupid and naive, but she also had some very interesting points.”

“What were those?”

Your hands grow clammy at the thought of being mere seconds away from Michael knowing what had been said, anxiety trying to convince you that this is a conversation best saved for another time. “You know, I’m actually pretty tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Rolling onto your side and pulling the blankets up to your chin, you try to sell the act that you really are tired. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t buying. “(Y/N),” he says patiently, placing a hand on your shoulder and moving you to face him. “What did Madison say to you?”

“You’re gonna think I’m stupid and suffering from Stockholm Syndrome or something like that.”

“I would never think that you’re stupid!” Michael strokes your cheek, making you look up at him. “Please tell me. I can tell that this is weighing heavily on you, when that’s the last thing you need.”

“She…” you sigh in frustration and rub your hands over your face. “Basically, she told me that I’m in love with you but I’m too stupid to see it.”

“And?”

“And I think she might have been right,” you blurt out in a rush, averting your eyes to the ceiling so you don’t have to look at him. 

Michael’s silent for a moment. “You...think she might have been right?”

You nod.

“Right in the fact that you’re in love with me but too stupid to see it?”

“I really hope you’re just quoting her words and not calling me stupid, but yes.”

“Oh.”

You sigh. “Yeah, that was about my reaction, too.”

“I still don’t think you’re stupid, but I do think you’re suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.”

“If I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, don’t you think I would have fallen in love with you a long time ago?” Michael nods in contemplation, acknowledging your point. “I’m tired, Michael.”

“Okay, we can talk about this in the morning.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Rubbing at your face, you look up at him. “I’m tired of playing this game, and being stubborn just for the sake of keeping up appearances. I feel like I’m keeping up this facade simply as a ‘fuck you’ to your dad. It was originally for you as well, but now...”

“Are you saying that you actually do love me?”

“I first realized that I might love you after Dinah Stevens reversed what Satan had done to me. You were just...so sweet and caring. You didn’t leave my side once during that time.”

“How do you know that? You were unconscious.”

“I could feel your hand holding mine the whole time. Your remorse towards what Satan had done to me and your determination to nurse me back to health...nobody else would have done that for me. Not only did you push aside your own feelings, which I’m sure were extremely conflicted, but you dropped everything for me. I’ve never had another person forgo all their other duties just so they could take care of me.”

“You love me,” Michael whispers in reverence, eyes shining in the dim light. 

Madison Montgomery had told you that there wouldn’t be some “aha” moment when it came to knowing whether or not you were in love with a person. Laying in Michael’s arms, in the peacefulness of a shared bed, you realize that this is your “aha” moment. At least, it’s one of a few that you’ve had. Nevertheless, you know that this is a position you would happily stay in for the rest of your life. You’ve never felt this with a person before, and you doubt you’ll ever feel it with someone else again. In your heart, you know that Michael is it for you.

“Yeah, I love you,” you say just as quietly. “You’re the Augustus Waters to my Hazel Grace, only with no cancer.”

Michael laughs. “What does that even mean?”

“It relates back to the pop culture conversation we had earlier today, don’t worry about it.”

He shakes his head at your quirkiness, but grins at you anyways. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you,” you repeat. It’s a new phrase, at least in the way that you’re saying it to Michael. Although new, it feels natural and good.

“So what now? We’re already married.”

“I guess we’re just working backwards. Marriage, declarations of love, followed by dating? I would like to be courted by you.” You wink at Michael, a soft blush dusting his cheekbones.

“I suppose I could do that.”

“For now, though, I would be content with just falling asleep here, with you.”

He kisses the top of your head, making you smile. “I can do that, as well.”

Michael strokes your hair and cheeks, laying featherlight kisses on your skin until you fall asleep. And when you do finally sleep, there are no more nightmares. Your world, which has been shattered and hastily taped back together numerous times in the span of a few months, finally feels right once more.

//

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[kannra21]

This time I watched Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited for real, meaning that all this knowledge I gained about that series from the previous time was just facts coming from different posts on Tumblr. And I got to know a lot about it thanks to you. You guys were a big help in figuring out some of the series' most important aspects, I appreciate your input on it.

Now that I’ve watched both episodes. I’m going to comment on some things I haven’t seen people talking much about, I’ll try giving it some highlight so I hope you enjoy.

1) The millionaire detective *or smtng more than that*-

Many expect the main character of the series to present himself in a way that he says his name and what he does for life, to give us an insight into who he is and to give us a better idea of what to expect of the series. But instead, the first episode opens with "I had a father and I had a mother", the series opens with a tragic story and tells us about the rich person's unfortunate life. Why's that? It's very important for Daisuke's character. Because, as we go through the series, the author probably predicted that audience would start judging him according to the way he treats people and work, just like Kato always does. The author tries to warn us not to judge a book by its covers. That's why it is so important that the beginning of the series opens this way.

2) Daisuke's and Kato's teamwork-

Daisuke, being a highly classified detective, knows his rights and what he can and can not do, which he exploits a great deal. He can damage people's vehicles and traffic control but he doesn't care, bc he's a detective and bc the law is on his side. He's using this same knowledge to reach his goal faster without wasting time on things that aren't that important, which means, morally or ethically important. Emotions like insecurity, guilt and regret aren't welcomed in this job. Sensitivity to other people's needs before yours are also irrelevant. Traumatizing a mother and a child from almost getting ran over isn't something that he'd preoccupy his mind with too much. He cares about the sufficiency of the mission and working in the favor of the government, as Ryo himself said.

Kato, on the other hand, is different. People come to him in the first place and the most important thing for him is to bring them peace and security, things that all police officers should actually have in mind. He is everything that Daisuke is not.

And when he told him "You're making quite the show here. How are you going to take responsibility for this?", we can notice that something clicked in Daisuke, that he told himself "ugh I went too far I should do something about it". And then he called HEUSC and told him to send reimbursements for DOUBLE the damage costs he caused for certain people. He also gave the Abura Emirate's seventh prince a billion yen when the car didn't even cost that much. So it’s evident that Daisuke does possess feelings like guilt, he just needs to be reminded of it.

The same goes for that scene when he tried to drop the vehicle into the river, Kato reached for the girl and told her to jump out. Daisuke doesn't care if she's a kid or if she's going to explode together with the van. It is important to him to save the rest + the kids are also considered criminals, he will take it upon himself to judge them as they actually deserved it. Kato, unlike him, can't let himself do that, he just can't. That's why he saved her and let her be with Hiroshi again. I love Kato for that.

Maybe Daisuke is a sufficient detective but Kato is there to remind him that the things he's doing aren't ok. He's giving him a sense of morality and ethics and that's why I think they're put together bc they make a great team. And they truly do, the problem is, Kato can't stand him. 😅

3) This funny moment-

I love how Kamei in the second episode found out ab the tragic death of some woman by going through one of his inappropriate sites and he's like: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

Kato *annoyed bc he's as well judging him for his perverted ways and lack of devotion towards work*: "Shut up Kamei."

Kamei *big sad*: "It says she died from a drug overdose. That centerfold model Akiko Hoshida..."

Kato: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA??!! SERIOUSLY?"

Which leads me to the conclusion that:

Kato isn't that much different from Kamei.

Kato prefers only a specific type of women while Kamei drolls over every woman who looks even remotely pretty.

Kato has a type because the deceased centerfold model Akiko Hoshida and Suzue look very alike. Kato is also into "innocent" women bc he himself is innocent, as Akira stated. + He knows how to cook, refuses to drink alcoholic beverages during work hours and is actually pretty soft. Kato is more lovable than Daisuke in those aspects.

4) Kato's cluelessness-

Because of being so innocent, Kato doesn't have the ability to criticize others or judge "the way they breathe". He's too good, too considerate, too emphatic. That's why Daisuke's here to break his pretty picture of the world they're living in.

Kato was so easily deceived by the street performers and it was actually funny. Why would they do it otherwise than for money? No one wants to make an idiot out of themselves without a certain price.

He also thought of Suzue as one of them, the drug dealers I mean, acting as liaison. And it made me laugh so much bc he didn't know what's going to hit him. 😂

5) HEUSC-

I love HEUSC so much, this technology stuff is so lit, I wish I had it. It can detect lies, analize time, deduce certain information just from the help of a person's credit card, how much income they have, how much they lost over a couple of days, when and where, what were they buying. It can detect a person, personal information ab where they're from, age and date of birth. It also shows the person's heart rate. It can even work as a magnifier and control the traffic lights, isn't it crazy??

Daisuke's heart rate is always 60 during the whole interrogation. He's so freaking calm.

You also need to understand that Daisuke's session lasted longer than Cho-san's who used weak points such as family members and sense of right and wrong. Daisuke needed some time until their negotiation was done, he gave money to a drug addict in exchange for an information while Cho-san didn't lose anything, he could as well just deceive his suspect and get away with it.

Take into account that Daisuke went through a special training in England so his protocols are different from the normal Japanese ones.

6) Daisuke's jealousy-

Lmao Daisuke is stealing friends. He invited Akira to his own ramen during their Isezaki case.

He said "I can risk my life for Kato" and omg let me tell you, Daisuke became jealous so he made a move and even paid him to get into a costume to lure Kato and the rest of the hooligans to the top.

7) The elevator scene-

Kato standing in the middle of the elevator and Daisuke standing close to the corner as pinned as possible is what made my day. 😂

8) On the rooftop-

Daisuke's heart rate is 72 when shooting from a bazooka in the helicopter. Still too calm but I'd say that he's in a good physical condition considering that he's into boxing.

BTW he accidentally shoot towards Kato bc his target wasn't detected, it only wrote "primary target", he didn't do it on purpose.

But the sole thought of "stank needs to be eliminated" gets me every time. 😂

9) Daisuke joining the MCI-

Daisuke circled around the topic and refused to give the answer about why he decided to become a detective by redirecting the conversation towards Kato.

Let me tell you something, I watched too many crime series to know why he did that.

The reason is very personal.

And at the beginning of the whole anime he introduced himself to us with “I had a father and I had a mother”. I think he's trying to find the culprit for his parent's murder.

10) His lack of sleep-

Although he has lots of money, people like Daisuke tend to afford themselves a nice and cozy sleep. Despite that, Daisuke has as much under eyes as Kato. Which makes me wonder what keeps him awake at night, what's he thinking ab. Is he traumatized in a way? I can't wait for the next episodes to arrive!

Btw while watching the anime I fell in love with Kato even more, such a great character.

[thewritingstar]

best friends greens mutual pining roommates in college told in Butches POV?? it’s a lot of stuff in one post but i think you’re the only author i know who could pull it off (besides SBJ)

Pairing: Butch x Buttercup (Greens)

I-I don’t even know what to say. I really feel like i shouldn’t be compared to such a queen. But thank you. I hope this does your prompt justice and i love nothing more than a flustered Butch. Imma say this is rated like T to M just for the mention of certain topics. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for the ask!

Ask/Requests always open

-----

College was suppose to be fun. It was suppose to be full of random parties, random booze, random drugs and most importantly, random girls that he didn’t need to know the names of. 

What is wasn’t suppose to be was ice cold showers and massive headaches as he tried to drown the feelings that were arising. Random thoughts that he should be having about random girls should not belong to his roommate. No he really shouldn’t be thinking about how soft her skin would feel against his as she disappeared into her bedroom with a random guy. 

He thought it would be easy and chill to live with Buttercup and at the beginning it was. They were best friends of course and they got along like two peas in a pod. Scary movies, frozen meals and cheap beer was how the spent their nights together. 

Jerking off to the thought of her was how he spent his nights alone, and he hated it. 

You weren’t suppose to fall in love with your best friend. Every one who says they married their best friend is a liar in his book, at least thats what he told himself every night. All he wanted to do was forget about these feelings because he didn’t want to ruin what they had. 

Of course it was easier said then done when she decided a long band t shirt and booty shorts was her usual studying attire and sometimes they would lounge in their underwear because what else to bffs do?. She would sit next to him until their shoulders touched and more than once, it felt like they were a domestic married couple living in a one bedroom apartment than two homies making it through college. 

They would sometimes cook together and have study sessions. That was all normal stuff. What wasn’t normal was whispering her name praying that the random girl underneath him didn’t notice. 

They had been best friends since middle school and he valued their relationship more than anything but those feelings had shifted in high school and he never got to chance, or had the balls, to tell her. 

Every time he thought he was ready, she would end up tell him about a boy on the football team or baseball and he would sit there and nod. He would be there to support her time after time. Break up after break up, he was there for her tears even when his heart was ripping to shreds every single time.

But he couldn’t lose the only person who understood him on his level. He liked to punch and fight and get messy and she was right there along side him. Who else could keep up with him? Her but if it meant looking at as only a friend, then he could do so, even if it killed him on the inside.  

He thought that living together would erase the emotions but they only made them stronger. His fist would clench together until his nails would dig into his palms and threaten to break the skin. His jaw tighten and the door would slam as he left every time she had someone over. 

Butch couldn't be mad, he also occupied his time with random girls who were pretty and air heads at best, mostly sorority because flings were like crack to them. But even in the heat of those moments, he wished it was her. Sure the girls were hot but something about Buttercup made his heart clench. 

Her presence was that of a firework. Explosive and bright and if you were lucky, got to see it light up constantly and he was taken back every time. She was her own type of beauty, no one could compare. Even with blood dripping down her knuckles as she snarled at the monster before her, she was everything he had ever wanted. A bad ass girl who wasn’t afraid of anything, except for clowns, she hated clowns. 

She could be intimidating and he would laugh at the guys who would try to get with her for more than a fling and fail miserably. Even if he wasn’t the one to be in her bed, he was still miles ahead of every one. She knew that too.

And right now, he was losing it. 

A simple night. The scary movie was playing, one that they had seen a hundred times before and a box of pizza that only had a few slices left. She was on one side of the couch with one foot on his leg and the other dangling off the side while his leg was propped up and the other resting while hers was on it. His elbow was on the arm rest and from the corner of his eyes he could see her blankly staring at the screen. 

She wasn’t even dressed up. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and just an over sized shirt and yet he thought she looked gorgeous. 

he couldn’t explain how he felt. She was a magnet or a bright flame and he was a moth ready to be burned by the light. 

He sat there watching the screen. His heartbeat thumping in his chest heavily and he hate, absolute hated that she had super hearing too. 

“You that scared pussy?” She said without even looking at him and he swallowed hard before grabbing his water. 

He only had about a month left before winter break and then he could room with someone else, it would be better for both of them. He loved rooming with her but these feelings would only drive him crazy and it wan’t fair for her to live with him having these thoughts. Fuck she looked hot. 

“Yeah.” He lied and coughed dryly. 

She paused the tv and finally looked at him. “You okay?” 

She always saw through his bullshit and it was one of the many things he admired about her, expect for this moment. 

He rolled his eyes playfully trying to mask the redness in his face. “Just worried about an upcoming test, basic college shit ya know.” 

He only heard her hum before her foot moved from the spot on his leg and he was thankful for a second. 

“You’ve seemed on edge lately.” Her voice was soft and he turned to face her not knowing that she had moved and his nose almost hit hers. “And I don’t think its about a test.” No shit sherlock. Maybe its because the hottest girl in the world was hovering just inches from him and he wanted to do nothing more than kiss her, but he couldn’t

Hie eyes widened at the close proximity and he thought he was gonna die. She batted her eyelashes at him and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Just about school.” Another lie and he could smell the crisp apple perfume she was wearing. Why was she so close? 

She sat on her heels and looked at him. He was trying not to lose it. 

“Can I ask you something?” She said and he nodded. 

“Yeah.” 

And now she looked nervous. She paused and opened her mouth before closing it again. He knew that look. It was the determining what to do next look and she only did that with him. And funny enough it was always after a break up. 

In high school they would sit in a parking lot or on the school roof tops. She would finishing cussing out the guy and even wiping her tears and then give him this look. 

“Why are guys such ass hole?” She would say and he would only shrug before slinking his arm over her shoulder and hugging him close. 

“Relax BC, you’ll find someone.” Like me he would want to say every time but he never did. 

Her eyes would be wide and even after crying you could see the individual flecks of neon green mixed with various shades and if the light hit them just right, he swore he could see gold. 

Her eyes matched those right now as she thought about her next words. The light coming through the blind bounced off them and even if he was a few inches away, those gold flecks were there. 

“Never mind.” She whispered, she did that on the roof tops too. He could see it now. 

How was he blind before? The looks and the pink to her cheeks. The way she walked and talked around him was much more delicate than those random guys. He placed his hand on her leg, rubbing circles with his thumb. 

Neither of them had been with a fling for about a month now. He was getting bored of everyone else and maybe she was too. The feeling of doubt that he had every time this would happen was in him now.

But she was a blazing bonfire and he was a moth that was so close to light, he didn’t care if he got burned to a crisp. 

“Come Buttercup, tell me.” He pleaded and he hope and prayed, even begged to the gods that the look she was wearing was the sign he was looking for. 

She looked at his hand and relaxed before those tears formed on her waterline. Everyone said Bubbles was the cry baby but she wasn’t afraid to let the tears fall. She shook her head and cracked a smile. Their noses now touched and her lip quivered as her hand touched his face. 

She looked terrified and he was too as she inched closer and closer, their lips practically brushing together. “I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I couldn’t, not after all this time. I’ve been yours since the start.” He whispered and her lips fell to his. 

He felt the firework go off. It was blinding and brighter than ever. He now understood when people said that you’ll see the stars when you kiss the one for you. And right now he was seeing the fucking universe. 

He wasted no time falling into the kiss. All those random thoughts and girls had evaporated in a flash as he tugged her into his lap and kissed her senselessly. He hated whenever she talked about other guys but the wait was worth it as she was finally kissing him. 

Her lips were soft and plush just like he dreamed they would be. 

Their mouths moved as if two puzzle pieces finally formed together after searching for their missing half. His hand went to rest on her ass and she pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt. He let out a growl as she playfully bit his lip and pulled away, gasping for air. 

“T-those fucking shorts, you f-fucking tease.” He breathed out. 

“T-took you long enough you dumb ass.” She wasn’t wearing all this tight clothing just for the sake of it, no he was convinced that she was the evil one now.

“How was I suppose to know?” 

“Just shut up and kiss me.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice as he picked her up and carried her off to his room. Something he thought would only happen in those cold shower dreams of his. 

College is fun. Its full of random young adults getting drunk at parties and taking shots of whatever they could find, loud ass music and most importantly, finding out that the person you’ve had the hots for since the 8th grade also liked you back. He was just thankfully that none of his showers had to be ice cold any more. 

He now learned that you could in fact marry your best friend and kicked himself for ever thinking he couldn’t. 

---

I hope this was okay!!! :) 

[rzngokukyo]

hi! i love your blog!! sorry if you're busy 👉👈 but could i make a request where mitsuri finds a girl (like 4 years younger when she became a pillar after a few months) and makes her a tsuguko and introduces her to the other pillars, then after a few years they developed feelings and haven't seen each other in so long bc of missions? reader also gets taller than mitsuri bc that would be so cute 🥺 thank you and have a good day!! ❤️❤️

WLW CONTENT THATS WHAT I LIKE TO SEE BABEY!!!

~~

~~

You were absolutely filthy, covered in head to toe with bruises, blood, sweat and dirt. It was late at night as you were on your way home from a mission, a demon had caught you off guard.

“Tch!” you clicked your tonuge and ran, you were in no postion to defend yourself at the moment. You needed an opening.

Wildly looking everywhere you spotted an opening between some trees. ‘ Looks like an open field might be there.’ You thought to yourself. Making a sharp turn, you ran towards it. The demon that was chasing had suddenly sped up, noticing you were looking for a better stance.

Turning your head to gauge where the demon was, you didn’t expect it to be right on top of you. “ Fuck!” You yelled out as the monstrous creature toppled you over. It had one hand on your neck and the other high in the air, about to strike at your throat.

“Breath of Love: First Form!” Your eyes went wide as you spotted a blur of pink above the demon. “Shivers of Love!”

Everything moved in slow motion. You watched as the pink haired woman sliced the demons neck, its head rolling onto the ground a few feet away.

The woman knelt beside you, “Excuse me, are you alright? That demon looked like it could crush you!” You adjusted yourself, taking a good look at the person beside you. She had long pink braids with green tips, an S shaped sword. A light blush crept across your face as you looked her up and down. She was gorgeous.

“Y-yes. Thank you for helping me.” You tried to stand up but your right leg gave out. You yelped in pain and expected to hit the ground, but you opened your eyes as she caught you, letting your weak side rest against her frame.

“Woah now, don’t push yourself. I’ll help you to the nearest safe spot.”

The both of you walked together, wondering down a nearby path.

“Um, I never caught your name, are you with the Corps?”

“Yes!” She turned to look at you, excitment in her eyes. “ I’m Kanroji Mitsuri, the love pillar. Bice to meet you!”

Holy Shit, a pillar

“I’m y/n.. thank you again for taking the time to help.” You muttered, completely embarrassed a pillar of all people came to your rescue.

Once you reached the bottom of the path, you noticed a cabin there. Mitsuri knocked on the door and you were greeted by an older couple. “Don’t worry y/n, this is a safe place for the corps. We can rest here until morning.”

WE?

You felt your face get hot and felt a but nervous spending the night with a pillar but you didn’t protest, you were in some serious pain.

The older couple showed you both to a room but pulled you aside first, attending to your wounds. Not noticing her, Mitsuri watched from the doorway, making sure you would be completely okay.

You changed into new sleepwear as your uniforms got washed. Mitsuri laid out some sleeping bags while you two waited for food.

“It must be awkward sharing a room for the night with someone you don’t know.” She said out of nowhere. “I didn’t want to just leave you here after seeing your injuries, it’s always nice to have someone around ya know?”

You nodded in agreement. “It’s not that awkward I promise, it’s just a bit.. weird considering you’re a pillar.” Mitsuri tilted her head. “I-I mean not that it bothers me it’s just, you’re so much better than I am. Wouldn’t you rather just move on to your next place?” You placed a hand on the back of your neck and laughed nervously. Words were not your forte.

“I don’t think ranks mean anything once you’re done fighting for the night.”

The older woman brought in the food. There was a lot, bowls of rice and meat. Some soup sides, drinks. Your eyes widened at all of it. Mitsuri laughed.

“Eat whatever you like, I have a big appetite so there’ll be plenty more coming!” She dug right in and stuffed her face.

You couldn’t help but laugh, she was a messy eater.

Again she tilted her head. “Whsv fubbg?” She asked with her mouth full.

You laughed again and wiped her cheek. “You’ve got soy sauce all over yourself!”

“Mowe dow latef!”

There was a small pause followed by a burst of laughter from the both of you.

After dinner was done and you both settled into your sleeping bags there was another long pause.

“Hey y/n.. earlier you said I was better than you. What did you mean by that? Are you not comfortable in your swordsmanship?”

“Aha..” you turned away from Mitsuri. “I’ve been doubting myself a lot lately, I think I’m uncomfortable with the form I chose and want to switch but that means finding someone who’s willing to teach me.”

“Why don’t you become my tsuguko? I can teach you the Love Breath!”

You laid there stunned. “A-are you sure?”

“Of course! I’ve always wanted to pass down my knowledge!”

From then on, when Mitsuri wasn’t on a long pillar mission. You spent day in and day out training, making your body unlearn everything to make room for something new.

One day she introduced you to the other pillars. There was a huge dinner after a meeting and you got to meet another tsuguko. Her name was Kanao, she was really quiet but super nice.

As time went on the sessions lasted longer but were less frequent. Mitsuri was called out more often and suddenly so were you.

Days turned to weeks turned to a few months before you realized you hadn’t seen her. You could feel your heart hurting as you realized this was a new reality. As another month passed by without much contact with her you realized you had feelings for her. It pained you to be away from her for so long, you didn’t want to forget what she looked like,what she smelled like. You missed everything about her.

Waking up one morning you received a letter Mitsuri would be coming back go rest for a while at her home in the corps headquarters. You practically sprinted back to headquarters after your latest mission was complete. On the way to her home you stopped and picked up some ingredients to cook for her.

Outside her door you could see her crow taking a nap in the windowsill, her clothes were washed and hanging nearby to dry.

Suddenly your heart started to pound, you got nervous, palms starting to sweat. What if she doesn’t feel the same way about you? What if she found someone while out?

Before more questions can race through your mind, the door in front of you opened.

“Y/n!!” Mitsuri jumped onto you, diving face first onto your chest.

“Kanroji-san!” You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in closer. “I’ve missed you so much.”

She rested her chin on your chest and looked up, causing you to look away blushing. “I’ve missed you too! Let’s go inside and catch up.” She looked you up and down. “It seems I’ve missed a lot seeing how much you’ve grown.”

She took your hand and pulled you inside, taking the ingredients off you and placing them on a nearby table. You walked into her kitchen, already familar with the layout of her home and started to boil water for tea.

Mitsuri placed some pillows and blankets on the floor, making lots of space for the two of you to sit and talk.

You sat down across from her, watching her every move.

“Y/n how tall are you now?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I think I’m 171cm now, it’s been a while since I’ve measured myself.” You laughed softly.

“You grew 4 inches in only a few months! Who’s been feeding you?” She grabbed onto your arm, feeling the upper muscles. “And your arms are so much more defined now! Oh geez I missed out on so much.”

Her voice seemed sad, you tried to look for answers in her eyes but she looked happy.

“I’ve only been taking care of myself, I did everything you’ve taught me. You have yourself to thank for how I turned out.” You patted her head.

A faint blush spread across the pillar’s face and she looked away. “Well I just want to make sure you’re doing okay without me, ya know? I.. care about you, a lot.”

Your body froze, you could feel the nervousness from before climb its way back through your body. Maybe you should tell her how you feel? Is now a good time?

The kettle screeching inturrupted your thoughts. “I’ll get it!” Mitsuri scrambled to get up.

“No no, you rest. I’ve got it.” You also got up, Mitsuri was too stubborn to say no so you both headed into the kitchen.

You both reached for the kettle at the same time, hands brushing against each others.

“U-uh I’ll get the cups.” You managed to squeak out before turning away quickly. You cupped your hands on your face and could feel the heat from your cheeks.

“Y/n? You okay?”

“Mhmm. Fine. I’m totally fine.”

You could feel Mitsuri press her hand on your back, “Why don’t we go sit down again, we’ll be more comfortable that way.” You trailed behind her as she led you back into her living room area.

She gently placed the kettle on a cloth after pouring you both a cup.

“So, meet anyone interesting while gone?” You asked, taking a sip.

“Hmm not really, I couldn’t stop thinking about you most of the time so it was hard meeting new people.”

You nearly spat out your tea.

“Uh huh.” You coughed, eyes watering a little. “Same here I uh guess. I was sad we couldn’t write each other more.”

“Me too! I found it hard having time to write, by the time I had a chance to sit down, I needed to use that time to recover.”

You both laughed a little.

“I missed having our sessions everyday. Even though I’m sure you want to rest, I hope you’ll watch over me the next couple days.” You smiled at her.

“Rest? Maybe a day or two but I want to spend all this time helping the both of us get better! It’ll be fun” she grabes your hands and held them.” I miss spending time with you, y/n. If I’m honest with myself.. I think I just miss you as a whole.”

That’s it, your entire face went red as you sat there speechless. “I-I umm,”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same! I just felt dishonest not telling you how I felt.” She squeezed your hands.

You looked at her eyes and could telk she wanted to say this for a while now. You pulled her a little closer, “Kanroji-san I feel the same way. Everyday we were apart I thought about only you, I missed the nights we’d train so hard we were too sore to make it back inside so we slept under the stars. I missed cooking with you, I missed you.”

“Oh y/n!!” She lept into your lap unexpectedly causing you to fall backwards. “ I love you!”

You both laughed as you held onto her. “I love you!” You said back, cupping her face and kissing her nose.

You both laid there all afternoon, letting your tea go cold. After a while Mitsuri fell asleep on your chest, one hand around you, the other tangled in your hair.

You kissed the top of her forehead and closed your eyes, waiting for tomorrow to come.

~~

Sorry for any spelling errors, I had to type this on my phone.

[vaguelyprophetic]

top surgery experience

so i’m officially one week post-top surgery and i figured it might be helpful for some people if i shared my experience so! here we go!

i got top surgery with a surgeon in michigan (feel free to DM me if you want to know specifics, i just don’t feel comfortable putting that info out publicly). she was absolutely incredible and even though she doesn’t have a lot of results posted online, she showed me some of her past results and they all came out really well. if anyone is in michigan (or out of state, even, if you’re able to travel and if your insurance will cover it) and looking for a surgeon i would definitely recommend her.

consultation: i had a consultation back in march where i got to meet the surgeon, talk about which surgery i wanted/was a candidate for, and how to get in contact with a therapist to write a letter for my insurance. i loved my surgeon from the very first moment i met her. she was energetic and super helpful and answered all of our questions thoroughly. i was technically a candidate for peri, but i decided to go with double incision because i liked the results better and it gives you the most control over how your chest ends up looking

getting approval for surgery: my insurance required one letter from a therapist in order to cover surgery, so i scheduled a few appointments with a therapist that my surgeon had worked with before. it only took 2 or 3 sessions before my therapist had the letter ready, and scheduling surgery happened very soon after that. i managed to get in really quickly for my surgery (about one month after i got my letter approved), but i’m pretty sure that i just got lucky that we were able to move that quickly

pre-op appointment: not much to say about this. we met with my surgeon’s PA and went back over consent forms and what surgery would look like, some of the restrictions during recovery, etc. the PA was just as kind and helpful as the surgeon (the whole staff was) and the appointment was super quick and easy.

day of surgery: my surgery wasn’t until the afternoon, so i was able to sleep in a little later. instead i woke up super early from anxiety and played animal crossing for a while lol. i changed my sheets, took a shower with the special soap they gave me, and packed a backpack with an extra change of clothes, my phone charger, my toothbrush, and a zip-up hoodie to wear home. checking in at the hospital was a little weird because of all of the covid restrictions and guidelines, but it wasn’t difficult. i was a little anxious just generally, but the staff was all great and helped me stay calm

surgery: went in to prep for surgery with one of the nurses. put on a gown and special hospital socks. had to pee in a cup to prove i wasn’t pregnant (even though i was 102% sure i wasn’t). they set up my iv and the nurse, the surgeon, and the anesthesiologist all came by to talk to me for a few minutes. the anesthesiologist did the nerve block on my sides to help control pain. eventually they gave me some oxygen and rolled me into the OR, then knocked me out. last thing i remember is being in the OR and one of the nurses or the anesthesiologist talking to me, then i fell asleep and woke up in recovery. my surgery was scheduled for about 5.5 hours, but i was done in a shorter time than that because i’m pretty slim and the surgeon was able to work faster.

post-op: woke up in the recovery room INCREDIBLY tired. don’t remember a lot from the first night, just that was super exhausted and didn’t feel great. i was only supposed to spend one night at the hospital, but i ended up spending 2 nights because i still felt super nauseous and dizzy and the doctors didn’t want to send me home like that. spent most of the time sleeping or attempting to eat crackers bc i had no appetite at all.

recovery: honestly recovery has been kinda rough, especially the first few days. luckily i didn’t have a lot of pain, just discomfort and some muscle issues. i had very little appetite for the first couple days, but it started to come back about 3-4 days into recovery. i know anesthesia affects everyone differently so you might not go through that, but that was my experience. (this was my first time getting major surgery and going under anesthesia. turns out i do not react well to it).

i did have some minor complications—i developed a hematoma (a pocket of fluid under the skin) and had some extra bleeding around my drain site. and not really a complication but i have a LOT of bruising especially on my right side where the hematoma is. it’s not really painful, just kinda frustrating and disappointing that after waiting so long and spending so much money, it’s still not completely right. but i keep trying to remind myself that healing is a process and eventually i’ll be fully healed and so much happier.

the drains honestly aren’t as bad as i was expecting. if blood makes you queasy then it might be rough, but they’re actually not TOO terrible. mostly just inconvenient. i’ve been on around the clock painkillers that definitely helped keep the pain to a minimum, so it was more just figuring out how to make myself as comfortable as possible.

if at all possible, you definitely want to have someone around who’s going to help you with medicine schedules, drains, and just being generally comfortable moving around and sleeping. i definitely couldn’t do any part of recovery without having someone with me to help out.

post-op appointment: had my post-op appt one day shy of being a full week out of surgery. they checked over my chest and my drains. because of the complications with draining/bleeding on my right side, they weren’t able to take that drain out, but they did take the left one out so i’m good on that side. they also took the bolsters off my nipples and everything looked as it should. i got to see both my surgeon and her resident and i felt a lot less stressed and anxious after the appointment. getting the drain out was a weird sensation but it went super quickly and i barely felt a thing. definitely one of the easiest parts of recovery so far. i did tear up a little when i finally saw my post-op chest and i’m really really happy about it.

if you want to know any more about my personal experience/any advice i have feel free to send me an ask or a message about it. it’s now weird being the one who can talk about my top surgery experience and i want to be as helpful as i can!!

[your-turn-to-role]

ayyyyy happy 4/13 have my second list of classpects, vox machina edition! (@lostsometime to add to the homestuck au)

(m9 here)

vex - thief of mind

vax - rogue of blood

percy - witch of light

keyleth - page of breath

scanlan - thief of life

grog - prince of rage

pike - heir of space

tary - witch of mind

first off, there are a couple copies here, and they don’t have a time player, so vox machina on their own could not win the game. but hey, weird plot shit exists, and the alpha kids managed it by combining their session with the beta kids, so who knows how this would go

(explanations under the cut)

1) vex - thief of mind

vex has a lot of ideas about her sense of self. but when you get right down to it, none of them are actually about her sense of self, and rather about how people see her. image is important to mind players, but it’s not really linked with identity. in fact, the canon description of mind players states they have very fluid, shifting concepts of identity, it’s far more important to them that they remain rational and have a logical line of reasoning than sticking to things just because they feel right or wrong. and i think this is very true for vex, she doesn’t often doubt herself, but she doesn’t really know who she is, beyond just what she’s trying to emulate or avoid.

thief bc she’s still one of the stealth twins, it is very her thing, but she’s definitely the louder of the two, the thief demands to be known, the rogue quietly assists. she’s headstrong, stubborn, and the world owes her everything it’s taken from her, which she definitely plans to steal back. and honestly that’s her right and i love her.

2) vax - rogue of blood

god i really love the fact that the twins are a thief/rogue pair, it not only fits who they are as people but vex being the active version of vax’s passive class and vice versa fits so well

(also fun fact, i have something of a personality test/checklist i grade characters on when i’m struggling to figure out their class or feel like i’m being biased towards one particular classpect. there’s 15 possible points per class, most characters will get a highest score of maybe 9 or 10, homestuck characters get something like 12-13. vax, however, does what no one else has ever done, and scored all 15 points in rogue. he is more rogue per rogue than any rogue in homestuck. 100% pure distilled rogue boy.)

personality quizzes aside though, he really is so obviously a rogue. he’s got everything of the thief archetype built into his entire character, but while a homestuck thief steals by their own will and for their own benefit, all of the rogue’s same actions go towards supporting their friends. also, as a passive class, their decisions tend to be less personal drive based and more guided by their aspect, as if the universe was working through them, which is definitely the case for our champion of the raven queen. they’ve been described in canon as the robin hood class, rebellious, but in an altruistic way. true punk. fuck the system, love recklessly

blood players need a family. they draw their strength from the bonds they have with those around them, they’re stubborn as all hell, especially when it seems like there’s no way out of a situation, but it’s in determination to protect their chosen family and keep everyone safe and happy. if they’re leaders, they’re inspirational ones rather than commanding ones. and this is “dramatic speeches about teamwork and morality” vax, “what the fuck do we have in this world except for moments with each other” vax, “how lucky i have been to have had all of you” vax. what else could he be?

3) percy - witch of light

so percy’s an interesting one, because i kinda wanna give him two classpects? like, if you classpect percy before or during the briarwood arc, he’s a prince of light. after that, he becomes way more of a witch. (though, to be fair, light players and witches are both incredibly prone to getting possessed, so, maybe he was a witch all along and just acted really prince-y)

he’s definitely an active class, no doubt about it. percy will fight gods to achieve his own ends. prince, being the most active class, and one designed to cause destruction, definitely suits orthax percy. but then things change, and you realise what he actually is

witches are manipulator classes, like knights, but active manipulator classes. they can’t create things out of nothing like some classes do, but instead bend and twist and transform their aspect (and the world around them, using their aspect) to achieve their goals. percy’s human, and not magic. he doesn’t have any particular special abilities in order to do things, he gets by on ingenuity and reckless bravery. that post that was going around a while ago about how all of vox machina are basically gods and percy’s just a guy with a gun does well to prove the point here, because he keeps up anyway. he’s made mistakes and there are things in the world now that he can’t change, but he does his best to work within those constraints and make as good of a world as he can with what he has

and what he has, usually, is knowledge. which is the main dominion of the light aspect, along with luck (and, you know, taliesin and dice rolling). light players are scholars first and foremost, but very rarely bookish scholars, instead the kind of scholars that think they can make a demon deal and get away with it because they’re clever enough for that, and also they’re extra enough that they’d do it anyway for the aesthetic

4) keyleth - page of breath

this was the easiest of all of these for me to do, it just slots so neatly into place. pages are a slow moving class that have to work their way around all the side quests before they get a lot of their power, but after that they’re powerhouses. they’re easily underestimated, by others and by themselves. keyleth takes a while to come to terms with herself and her power and her effect on the world, most of the plot takes place within her slowly completing her aramente, she often worries she won’t be good enough for anything that’s expected of her, but once she hits level 20 she is a master of the elements, a true leader of her people, and literally unkillable.

breath fits for two reasons. the first is being the aspect of freedom, of acting without being controlled by anyone else’s thoughts or decisions. and keyleth, for all her anxiety and all her bad luck, has never made a choice she didn’t agree with. along with vax she’s the first to speak up when she feels like the group’s moral choices aren’t holding up to her standards, when they’re moving in a direction that isn’t right. the second is that it’s the aspect of air, and the wind, and she’s literally the leader of the air ashari. she can and does in fact do the windy thing

5) scanlan - thief of life

we’ve covered life already in my nott/veth explanation, but it really is so scanlan. look at this excerpt and tell me it’s not written for scanlan shorthalt

[If you're poisoned, chances are the Life-bound have something for what ails ya. This applies to both physical and mental suffering, though it might not be a cure you'll like. They also have the tendency to put other's needs before their own, which never ends well for anyone, because the Life-bound can grow bitter if they feel their own self-care has had to be shunted aside.]

figuring out class was harder? a lot of vox machina classes are pretty difficult to figure out. prince would work to an extent because of scanlan’s self destructive tendencies, bard would work to an extent because he often feels like things are out of his hands, but i think i’m going with thief. scanlan’s more of an active class, despite playing support in dnd, he’s very self motivated and not one to listen much to the guidance of the universe. thief i feel fits with the headstrong attitude, the creative out of the box thinking, and the need for attention in a very specific way (less so having people celebrate you, scanlan enjoys that but can easily shrug it off if it doesn’t happen, it’s more causing things for the sake of knowing and having other people know that you caused them)

6) grog - prince of rage

honestly this is the one i’d be most willing to bend on? it, took me forever to come up with any kind of classpect for grog, he seems to resist being classpected. i know a lot about him as a person, but translating that into either class or aspect was just hard. but i’ve gone with prince because grog’s never stopped for anyone (except maybe pike), because it’s a destruction based class, because it’s the most active on the scale, and grog is definitely one to go do things purely because he wants to do things and wants to do them now.

rage because rage players are about truth at all costs, even if that cost is often destabilizing entire systems and leaving the rubble to pick itself back up. and it makes me think about how grog has never really wanted to disguise himself, and especially about just before the kevdak fight - he knew he would probably get killed if he went back there as himself, but he refused to go in under false pretenses, because that wouldn’t be right

7) pike - heir of space

ashley’s just always drawn to those heirs. i think though with pike it definitely is a consequence of her being in and out a lot, because she’s not just an heir, she’s an heir of space.

heirs tend to stumble into their role rather than creating it or seeking it out. on a meta level, ashley only created pike because the team needed a cleric and she worked it out from there, but as far as pike herself is concerned, she doesn’t really know what she’s supposed to be doing or what her purpose is, but she’s been trying to do her best to follow sarenrae’s teachings, trying to do her best to guide her friends, and hoping that nothing goes wrong along the way.

space, too, is an aspect of patience. it’s about valuing the journey more than the destination, it’s about seeing what the universe has in store for you and trusting that it’s just as likely to turn out good as it is bad - you’ll know when the time comes to step in, at which point space players are pretty fierce fighters. but for now, for pike, it’s trying to help her friends one step at a time

8) tary - witch of mind

tary is like percy but cheating. he has a lot more resources to work with bc he just goes out and buys shit. but the witch reasoning still stands, they are very similar people in that respect, good at working within a set of restraints so well you don’t even notice the restraints are there

mind rather than light because, tary doesn’t quite hunger after knowledge in the same way. instead he’s much more concerned with the application of it, of how to get from point a to point b as efficiently as possible, and how that benefits him. (also because he’s not nearly as extra as light players. have you met light players? like i love them but jesus christ. who let them be Like That)

[asiryn]

this post is going to be very rambly, so i apologize in advance. if you’re potentially interested in my liveblogs, and/or interested in hearing a bit about my current life and disability issues, tune in. if you aren’t, then....keep scrolling i guess XD

(if you just want the current liveblog schedule, scroll to the bottom)

[and this got predictably very long, so i’m gonna put it behind a cut for convenience] 

up to recently, my main liveblogs have been about the pokemon anime, with a few other shows, books, and especially video games sprinkled in here and there. essentially, waaaay back in yonder year of 2014, netflix added the first season of pokemon, the indigo league, to their site, and i, in a fit of nostalgia, made the veeery questionable decision to watch all of the pokemon anime---rewatching the stuff i hadn’t touched since i was kid, and then continuing on into the unknown, and watching all the seasons from gen 3 onward that i had missed due to dropping out of pokemon. i only really started actually making liveblog posts once i hit gen 3, then i stayed consistent-ish from then onward. (for the curious, i’m up to sun & moon, and i have 44 episodes left until i finish it (i’m not ready ;;;; ), and then netflix actually just dropped the first 12 episodes of the newest series, pokemon journeys, so....56 until i’ve caught up with the dub XD)

so, all of y’all who climbed aboard with those liveblogs are probably already aware of Who I Am, at least a little. (....this is making it sound like i’m Some Big Name in liveblogging, but i’m not really anything of the sort, just so we’re all on the same page XD) at least, in terms of the fact that i’m physically disabled, suffer from chronic pain, etc. but recently, i’ve joined two new fandoms, and i’ve begun liveblogging spop and my next life as a villainess. and my spop posts in particular are already becoming some of the most popular posts i’ve ever done (like wow, you guys). and i think part of that popularity is due to the fact that these are two pretty recent, pretty popular fandoms (tho i do also like to think that i do make good content XP). but the point is that quite a lot of new ppl are coming across me, and idk how much, if any, of you have taken the time to look at my bio or anything. so i guess....part of this post is just some ruminations, but also my way of letting you know more of what you’re getting into. 

so, for those who don’t know: hi, you can call me kiryn, i liveblog stuff sometimes, and i’m physically disabled. i suffer from intense, constant, chronic pain. it stems from a bone disease called HME, or hereditary multiple exostosis, if you’re curious (i have a severe case of it, joy of joys). the short version of what that means is that i have a lot of bone spurs everywhere on my body, and they....cause me a lot of pain. basically, i cannot do any kind of sustained activity without the already significant, never-ceasing pain that i feel cranking up to unbearable levels, and basically i’ll be rendered immobile. i do have pain meds that i take, and that very much help to take the edge off, and make it so that i can function at all (bc, believe fucking me, w/o them, i wouldn’t be able to achieve even the little i can do), but even with them, it only makes a dent in my pain levels, and again, sustained activity makes up that difference very quickly. 

now, the gist of this stuff i’ll mention from time to time, but....i don’t usually go into much detail about it (and this post is probably the most detailed i’ve been about my condition in years). bc, quite frankly, it’s depressing. (and seeing as i also already have clinical depression, that’s definitely not something that i need more of XD) i participate in fandoms for escapism, and bc i don’t really want to think about that crushing mountain of reality. i’ve had this condition since birth, and i’ve literally lived my entire life in constant pain, and i honestly have no fucking idea what it even feels like to be painless. and what’s even worse is that it’s a degenerative disease---essentially, the bone spurs are wearing down my joints, so....my entire condition will just keep worsening as i get older. (and no, surgery to remove the spurs isn’t really an option.) i’ll be 29 next month, and i can already tell you, i’ve been feeling that decline sharply. when i was a kid, i could still run. by the time i was a teenager, i couldn’t even do that anymore; the best i could manage was a jog. now....i don’t think i could even do that. 

i guess the main point in why i’m saying all this, is that for the last year especially, i’ve been dealing with the worst downward swing that i’ve had in years. in my late teens and early-mid 20s, i got into a pretty good rhythm, of knowing my body’s limits, how to budget spoons to accomplish things, etc. but now even that fragile equilibrium has been thrown out the window, and i’m currently struggling to learn the new limits and rhythm of this downward swing that is unfortunately now my reality. even before, i was pretty limited on what i could accomplish, but even that narrow window has shrunk even further. so basically, i’m in the testing zone still. and it’s a very slow process, bc once i exceed the limit, my body breaks down, and now it takes me even longer to recover. as an example, i used to know that i could wake up in the morning and get ready to leave the house in 20-30 mins. now? i need at least an hour, which involves me pushing through a wave of agony to be able to take my pain meds in the first place, and then wait for those meds to kick in and the pain to die down enough to move without feeling like i’m moving through a wall of spikes. (and that’s just the start of every day for me, and before even throwing in all of the other variables)

so, coming back to the liveblogs......obviously, that’s affected by all this too. if you’ve wondered why there’s been a gap between me finishing up spop s1 and starting s2....that’s why. partly, i didn’t expect how analysis-heavy i was going to get on spop; pokeani just doesn’t tend to be as consistently thematically deep, so those liveblogs took far less out of me than spop has, and pushing myself to finish 5 episodes in one day....well, it was too much. and the thing is, it’s obviously unhealthy for me to continually push myself to the point of total breakdown, so...that’s where learning my new limits comes in. so, these past few days, i’ve been thinking, and essentially trying to better figure out how to do liveblogs like this without pretty much killing myself in the process (bc i honestly do love making them....i mean, if i didn’t, then it really wouldn’t be worth the literal pain it takes to make them XD). and also there’s a component of managing my anxiety-brain, bc leaving things Unfinished stresses me out, and so when coming to terms with the fact that it’s going to take me awhile to finish one show....knowing that i’d be leaving others hanging....Doesn’t Help XD

so, here’s what i’ve got so far (and obvs, this is subject to much tweaking in the future XP)

currently, i’m watching 4 shows: pokeani, good omens, villainess, and spop. villainess rn is the least of my worries, bc 1 ep is coming out a week, so it’s not demanding a lot of my time. 

for the other 3, here’s the preliminary schedule i’ve sort of hashed out:

- pokeani sm103-106

- spop s2

- pokeani sm107-110

- spop s3 

- pokeani sm111-114

- spop s4

- pokeani sm115-118

- spop s5 

- pokeani sm119-122

- good omens

- pokeani sm123-126

- [catch up block] (i don’t have a good track record in keeping up with ongoing shows, so if i fall behind on villainess, this is where i can catch up)

- finish pokeani sun & moon [sm127-146] (the league starts on ep 128, so i’d rather not experience any big interruptions in the battles XD)

basically, i’ve given myself a limit of 4 pokeani eps in a single session (bc as stated, they don’t take as much out of me), and with spop, the most i’ll let myself watch in a row will be 3 eps (s2 will probably be broken up into a 3/2/2 block, s3 a 3/3 block, and s4&5 will be a 3/3/3/2/2 block).

now, keep in mind that i’m very deliberately making no guarantees about specific days, bc who even knows, but at the very least, scheduling and talking it all out like this will help me to better manage my spoons, and if you’ve actually read this far, then you’ll know the method in the madness and why i’m doing things this way. XD the vague goal is to get in a least 1 liveblog session a week (plus a bonus of the new villainess ep on saturdays)---at least for the shows. i’m still having to working out what i’m going to do about video games....maybe i should just go on a ‘once a week’ model for all my hobbies across the board XDD

in the next couple of days, i’ll be posting that in-depth look into all the ships of villainess (it started as me just pecking down a few thoughts while i was taking a social media break due to the Current Events, but now i’m at the point where i’m like, i’ve put too much effort into this to not post it, damn it XP), and then depending on spoons, i’ll try to start in on that schedule this week, so stay tuned for some pokeani! (again....i’ll try to hit at least 1 liveblog a week before i start trying to get more ambitious XDD)

in any case, if you have stuck through to the end, thank you very much. your support means a lot to me 💖

[xbaepsae]

heartbeat | part one (m)

“You fell in love with a boy who was in love with music, and you weren’t sure if he was capable of loving you the same way. This thought should’ve caused you to move away from him; but, if anything, it just drew you closer.“

[musician!yoongi x reader | jeongguk x reader]

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.4k

a/n: hello! happy new year! if you’ve followed me for over a year now, you will know that this is a reupload. i deleted all of my fics a few months ago, and now i’m finally ready to start writing again :) i’m not sure if i will reupload all of my previous works, but heartbeat means so much to me so i had to start off with it. when i first uploaded this fic series, there were four parts but i decided to condense them into two bc they’re not new and i’m only minimally changing some things. so, i hope you enjoy (if you’re reading this for the first time)! thanks for reading and excuse any grammatical errors lol. xoxo

part one | part two

The exact moment that you fell in love with Min Yoongi would be a moment you’d remember forever.

“Here,” he had said to you that day, “listen to this.”

He handed you a pair of beat-up headphones and you placed them over your ears. You hadn’t known what to expect, because honestly, the headphones were extremely uncomfortable, but what you heard next surprised you. It was a song—he wanted you to hear a song he composed. And the best thing of all was that he sang, even though you knew he hated singing. Yoongi handed you his notebook that day too; and as you read his lyrics and listened to his song, you knew you were done for.

Most people fall in love because they know they’ll be loved back. You fell in love with a boy who was in love with music, and you weren’t sure if he was capable of loving you the same way. This thought should’ve caused you to move away from him; but, if anything, it just drew you closer.

The year Yoongi played his first song to you, you were sixteen and already hopelessly in love.

Even though you were positive that the feelings inside of you were true, you never told him how you felt. At least, not until it suddenly spilled out of you. By this point, you were nineteen and still had everything bottled up inside of you. Yoongi was still a good friend to you and invited you over to his place to listen to more of his demos. This little listening session turned into sharing a few drinks.

And blame it on the alcohol; you don’t know why, but you suddenly said the three little words: I love you. The reality of your words didn’t hit you until moments later, and your eyes had nearly fallen out of their sockets. Yoongi stopped moving and looked at you with scrunched brows. What came next was what you had expected all along, but it still made you shatter into a million pieces.

“I’m sorry, y/n, but I don’t feel the same way.”

He had tried to explain that he did love you, but not in a romantic way. He saw you as a little sister, which had perhaps stung more than simply saying he didn’t like you. You went home that night and cried. And although his rejection stung, you learned to deal. You just pretended like the confession didn’t happen and, thankfully, Yoongi never brought it up again.

After the events of that night, you never drank so much around Yoongi again; alcohol clearly made you a little too honest, and you didn’t want to risk acting like a lovesick fool.

It would have made sense if you let the boy go after sister-zoning you, but you were such an idiot—you still loved him endlessly and you couldn’t just stop. Min Yoongi was like a drug that you couldn’t stop using. Everything about him was intoxicating. His passion for music was out of this world and, although he often had a cold exterior, you knew deep inside that he was soft as could be.

The year you turned twenty-one, your friendship seemed like it was fine; the same as it had always been. But you knew something was different when Yoongi stopped calling you over to listen to his new music. You didn’t know what you did wrong, or if you had done anything wrong at all. Yoongi was known to go into weird funks, so you didn’t question anything. Then, a whole month went by. That’s when you started getting worried. It was a Friday, after work, that you decided to pay him a visit. You swung by his apartment, using the spare under the mat, but no one was home. Hope was nearly lost, until you remembered that he was sharing a studio with someone.

When Yoongi told you that Namjoon had given him the opportunity to use a room in the studio, you were happy because it was a definite upgrade from the desk in his bedroom. You had met the guy a few times before, but he was always holed away in that studio. You guessed that Yoongi was there too; where else could he be? Since you had been to the studio once or twice, you had a general idea of where it was.

The studio was only a few blocks from the apartment so you made it there in only a few minutes. It was actually the basement of a small ramen place, and you always wondered if the couple who owned the place got annoyed with all the noise. But they were all smiles when they saw you and didn’t even look twice as you climbed down the stairs.

You pushed the door of the little studio open and immediately, you were greeted with Namjoon. He sat on the couch by the little window, a cigarette pulled to his lips. When he noticed your presence he stood up, discarding the narcotic. He stared at you with wide eyes, surprise marred across his features. Now that you think about it, you were quite rude that night; you completely ignored the poor guy and marched straight to the room you knew belonged to Yoongi.

Namjoon called your name, attempting to stop you. And now, you wished he would have.

You pushed the door of Yoongi’s room open, walking right in. Your lips had started to part, in hopes of speaking your mind, but the picture in front of you completely stopped you. All of the extra pairs of eyes in the room turned to you, but the only one you sought out didn’t even spare you a single glance.

“Y/n,” Yoongi said your name, finally acknowledging your presence.

“Wha—What’s going on here?” you asked, frozen in your spot.

A man in front of Yoongi stood up and suddenly extended his hand, “It has been my pleasure, Yoongi.”

“Mine as well; see you in Seoul.”

That was when everything made sense.

Yoongi had been avoiding you that entire month because he was making personal arrangements concerning his musical career. A part of you had been furious; why didn’t he say anything? Why did he have to stop talking to you for a month? Another part of you had been ecstatic for him; he was going to make it big, and you couldn’t be prouder. But despite all these mixed feelings, there was something larger weighing down on your shoulders—a part of you was scared. If Yoongi went to Seoul, you were going to lose him.

As the men finished congratulating him, they walked out and left you there alone to stare at him; you didn’t really know what to say. Should you congratulate him? Should you just leave?

“Were you never going to tell me?” was the only thing you mustered up.

His eyes rolled once before lazily meeting yours, “You’re my friend, y/n.”

“And?”

“Of course I would’ve told you.”

Your eyes move down to stare at the floor, “I doubt it.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he suddenly asked, and your body flushed in anger.

“What the hell is wrong with me? More like what the hell is wrong with you, Min Yoongi,” you said to him. “You claim that I’m your friend, yet you ignore me for an entire month. I thought that maybe you were just in a little music funk, but no—you were actually planning your career and didn’t even bother to tell me.”

“Is it so bad that I want to pursue music?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, it’s not; I’m actually really happy for you. But you don’t seem to get it—you didn’t tell me. If I hadn’t shown up today, I probably would’ve never known.”

“I said that I would’ve told you,” he argued. No, he wouldn’t have.

No longer knowing what to say, you backed out of the room and ran out of the studio. You rushed past Namjoon, past the ramen couple, and felt slightly bad for not saying goodbye, but you couldn’t stand looking at Min Yoongi anymore. You ran all the way home and didn’t stop until your body landed in the sheets of your bed.

That night, you cried again—he was always making you cry. You mostly cried because the truth, which you tried to suppress, was coming back to bite. Yoongi was never going to be capable of loving you as much as his music, and it hurt more at this moment than ever before.

You wondered for many years why your heart chose to beat for Min Yoongi. Why him of all people? Fate seemed cruel that way. Many times you wished to go back to how things were before he stepped in your life. But then you remembered that your life was rather dull without him. Even though Yoongi caused you a lot of pain, his presence was important.

Sure, he was cold and calculating, and he always got too consumed in his work, but behind it all, he was just a boy who loved music.

The next morning, you went back to the studio. Yoongi was already there, like you had predicted, and looked surprised to see you. In fact, it looked like he hadn’t even left the place—he was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. The air had felt awkward, but you pushed past it and pulled your hands from behind your back, “Here.”

You handed him an iced Americano, and a few moments later he actually smiled. A relieved sigh left your mouth as he took the drink from your hands and began to sip it.

“What’s this for?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, shifting on your feet. “I overreacted and it’s not my place to question you. It’s your life, you should be able to do whatever you want.”

Yoongi looked in your eyes, “I’m sorry too. You were right, I probably wouldn’t have said anything—but that’s just how I am. I’ve always kept to myself, but you really are my friend and I also respect your opinion.”

Taking in his words, you nod once, still not able to look him in the eyes.

“So…when do you leave for Seoul?”

“Next month.” His answer was short and sweet, but the impact it has on you would’ve said otherwise.

“Really?” your voice sounded small. “So soon?”

He sighed, “It would’ve been sooner, but I told them I had some unfinished business here.”

You suddenly looked up and met his eyes, “What? Me?”

“I told you that you’re my friend; my only friend.”

“What about Namjoon?” you asked.

“Namjoon and I? We’re more like music colleagues; dudes who just do music together,” Yoongi said and you couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ve been through a lot, y/n—you’ve been through a lot with me. I’m grateful for that.”

There it was—there was the Min Yoongi you fell for. You yearned so much for him in that moment. You didn’t want him to leave; you didn’t want to lose him. But instead of verbalizing all of that, you merely smiled and showed him everything otherwise.

“I guess we’re going to have to make this month count, huh?”

Over the course of the next month, you proceeded to show him everything he would miss about your small town. You would say to him, I bet you Seoul doesn’t have this…even though you were sure Seoul would have something much better and greater. But the one thing Seoul would lack was you; and even though Yoongi mentioned numerous times how important you were to him, you just didn’t know how much.

Like all things in life, the day of his departure came and it was time to face reality. You walked him to the train station with heaviness weighing over you.

“Well…I guess this is it,” he said, looking down at you.

You looked into his eyes and felt the tears that threatened to overspill, “I guess so.”

And without much of a warning, he suddenly pulled you into a hug and the tears sprang free. You had tried to keep the tears at bay, but you just couldn’t help it. You clung onto him like your life depended on it; your hands fisted into his jacket, your head nestled into the crook of his shoulder.

“I’ll come back and visit, yeah?” he chuckled a bit to relieve the situation.

“You better, Min Yoongi,” you could barely muster up the words. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

You knew that you couldn’t hold onto him forever; you had to let go eventually. And you did, watching him step onto the train. The tears still fell down your face and your chest wouldn’t stop heaving. You saw him take a seat by the window and waved to him. He did the same, waving until the train departed the station and left your line of sight.

Once he was gone, your chest hurt—like there were a million fragmented pieces that couldn’t be mended together anymore.

The exact moment you experienced heartbreak with Min Yoongi would be a moment you’d remember forever.

***

He never did keep his promise.

You waited month after month for a visit, but a visit never came. You also waited for a phone call or message—one of those never came either. Even though you knew Yoongi had forgotten all about you already, there was still a smidge of hope in you and you didn’t know why.

The hope that you had for Yoongi to contact you contrasted deeply with how you actually felt about him; you still felt the same as the day he left—completely broken.

For a while, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You were a shell of the person you once were. You were in love with the guy, and he just up and left. It was honestly kind of sad how dependent you were on him, especially since to him you were just a friend.

You just missed him so much, so much that you found a job at a music store just to feel a little bit closer to him. It was pathetic, really; every day you were surrounded by music that he loved and if anything, it just made you miss him even more. Missing Yoongi and working at the store soon proved to be a bad combination.

Working in a music store meant you had to deal with masses of people whenever a new album dropped. At first, you really didn’t mind the masses; they kept you well occupied and mind off your problems. Being busy was a great distraction, at least until roughly about a year after Yoongi left for Seoul.

Your work day started off as any other day would; you clocked in, restocked the current music racks, and checked the new inventory. It was all fine and well until you checked to see who the album belonged to. It was a name you weren’t familiar with, but when you looked at the cover art you stopped breathing for a second. Shock racks its way through your body and the album nearly slips from your hand.

“Oh my god,” you whisper and run the computer.

Typing away at the keys, you search every article concerning the name and album. Soon enough, you pull up an article speaking about the new artist and nearly die on the spot. The new artist was Min Yoongi himself, now going by the stage name Suga.

You stare at the computer screen, at a loss for words.

Scanning the contents of the article, you read that Yoongi—Suga—was set to release his debut album. And apparently, many music critics were anticipating the drop due to a preview of his single that dropped a few days ago. You click on the link that leads to you a video and a song begins playing. It’s short, only fifteen seconds long, but leaves your chest heaving.

You look through a few more articles before you hear your name being called.

“Y/n, you’ve got customers,” your manager calls.

“I’m coming,” you answer even though you want to keep looking through the internet, but you also don’t want to get fired.

You walk back out into the main area of the store and see a young man browsing the vinyl shelves. Looking around, you notice that there is no one else in the store and you almost want to scream at your manager for making you come out for one person. He didn’t even look like he needed help. But you walk up to him anyway and put on your best fake smile.

“Hi, do you need help with anything?” you ask in a voice that sounds way too cheery, even for your own ears.

The guy looks over at you, “I’m just looking around, but thanks anyway.”

He turns his attention back to the vinyl in his hands, and you can’t help but look at it too. You notice the familiar cover and smile, “I really like that album.”

“Really?” he looks at you surprised. “Not many people listen to them anymore.”

“Yeah, they’re a band Yo—” you catch yourself, “an old friend introduced me to a long time ago.”

Yoongi had introduced you to them sometime around when the two of you had first become friends, and you had loved them since. Seeing the album stings a little, nostalgia from the past resurfacing.

The guy offers you a wide smile, “Your friend has great taste then.”

For a moment, you feel struck by this stranger’s smile. A warmth you haven’t felt in a while fills you up at how genuine it seems.

“By the way, I’m Jeongguk,” he introduces himself to you.

“Y/n,” you reply, shaking yourself out of the little trance.

“So y/n, how long have you been working here?”

“Just the past year,” you tell him.

Jeongguk nods, “So you like music then?”

Only because of Min Yoongi. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

The conversation hits a lull, but you find yourself not moving away from him yet. Jeongguk has picked up another vinyl by this point, seemingly moved on. You take this moment to ask him again if he’s sure that he doesn’t need your assistance. But the boy just kindly declines your offer and you finally begin to walk away. Before you can very far, however, something stops you.

“Since you like music, there’s a show happening at a bar near here tonight. A friend bailed on me, so I have an extra ticket…did you want to go?”

You turn around, slightly biting your lips, “Tonight?”

“Yeah, it’s tonight,” he says looking a bit flustered. “I mean, I understand if it’s too short of a notice—or if you just don’t want to go. It’s just an offer but I get it if you—”

“I’ll go,” laughter comes with your response. He was kind of cute when he didn’t know what to say.

“Really?” Jeongguk looks shocked by your answer; and honestly, you kind of were yourself. “You’ll go?”

Nodding with a small smile, you say, “Sure, why not?”

“I mean...you just met me,” he says.

“You just met me too,” you retort, raising a brow.

“Touché,” he smiles. “When do you get off?”

“At five.”

He pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and unlocks it, scrolling through something. Suddenly, he tosses the phone to you, “Here.”

You barely catch it, the phone awkwardly wedged in-between both of your hands. When you hold the phone properly, you discover that his contacts page is up. Jeongguk quickly tells you that he, in his own words, kind of needs your number if he is to pick you up at your place later. You feel your face begin to heat a little, but type your number and save it under your name.

Handing him back the phone, you smile, “Just text me and I’ll text you my address when I get off.”

After a few more exchanges, Jeongguk leaves the store with a see you later and a strange happiness you haven’t felt in a long time washes over you.

***

As the hours tick by, you find yourself getting more and more excited about the nights promised event.

This was going to be the first social outing you attended in, what has seemed like, forever. And while you were extremely excited to go out, there was an impending sense of distress lingering in your mind.

You just didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself.

So when the time reads just a few seconds past five, you clock out faster than you ever have before and bolt home. Walking into your apartment, you pull out your phone and see a message from an unknown number. You swipe the message and smile when you realize that it’s Jeongguk. You type out your address, send, and are pleasantly surprised when he replies back within seconds.

The two of you text back and forth for a few minutes, and he lets you know that the show doesn’t start until eight. But before you can suggest that it would be okay if you just met him there, he says he’ll pick you up half an hour earlier.

You spend the next two hours frantically searching for an outfit to wear. These things all seemed like foreign concepts to you; you have no idea what to do. It was like you were suddenly unskilled in the art of date preparation.

Up until the last mere seconds, you struggle with your hair and makeup. You barely get a second to compose yourself before the doorbell rings.

Running to the door, while simultaneously slipping your shoes on, you open it and see Jeongguk standing there. You take a split second to do a once over, and are surprised by how nicely he is dressed. But perhaps your split-second stare is too long because Jeongguk raises a brow and your face immediately heats up.

You awkwardly cough, “Um, hi.”

“Hey,” he smiles, showcasing cute bunny-like teeth and your embarrassment soon fades away.

The walk to the bar is surprisingly not that bad. You had expected it to be painfully weird, but it’s not; you find yourself carrying an easy conversation with Jeongguk. When the two of you reach the bar, you actually feel sad that the conversation has to end.

“So, who is playing tonight anyway?” you ask, walking into the dimly lit place.

Jeongguk leads you to a set of empty chairs. “They’re a local band; I think that’s them right now.”

He points behind you, which causes you to turn around and see a stage lit up with various spotlights. On the stage, you see a group of guys plugging up equipment and instruments.

“Do you know them?” you ask, turning back to face him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head, “well, not personally at least. I’ve heard their music before and it’s great.”

You nod and smile a little, “I’m excited.”

“Good,” Jeongguk returns the smile. “By the way, did you want anything to drink?”

He tells you that it’s only normal to order drinks, since the two of you are at a bar. You laugh and say that you’re up for anything; you were never too picky about your alcoholic beverages. “So…anything?”

“Yeah, I’m cool with whatever,” you assure him.

Jeongguk leaves with the promise of bringing you a drink that you’ll love. Once he is gone, you settle into a chair, looking around the room and taking in all the décor along the walls. The bar is small, but it has a nice feeling to it and you wonder why you have never bothered to come before.

There were many times you had walked right past the tinted windows of this place, not even sparing the deep red brick walls a second glance.

You return your attention back to the stage just as the band begins playing. Not only are they extremely talented, they also manage to get the crowd excited—which is really impressive. Unconsciously, your hands begin clapping along to the beat of the drums.

“Enjoying yourself?”

The voice startles you for a second, until you realize it’s just Jeongguk. He stands beside you with a drink in each hand, and a smile stretched across his face.

You smile sheepishly, “Uh…yeah; the music’s great.”

He laughs, “I told you.”

Jeongguk hands you a drink and you take a sip, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. The drink isn’t bad at all and you end up downing the entire thing in a few seconds. You set the glass down and look over at Jeongguk, whose eyes are wide.

“What?”

“Well damn, y/n…” he says and you realize how crazy you must’ve looked just a few seconds ago.

“High alcohol tolerance?” is your lame excuse; it’s obvious that Jeongguk doesn’t buy it, but he just laughs again and begins to sip his own drink.

The little gig continues on, and you find yourself having a great time. You realize how much fun being around Jeongguk is—he dances along to each song, adlibs a bit, shouts with the band, and unwillingly makes you do it all too. And as embarrassing as it is, you don’t mind looking stupid as long as it’s with him.

For the first time in a long time, you’re having fun and the change feels great.

After a few more songs, the band lets the crowd know that their set has come to an end—to which Jeongguk boos along with the crowd and demands an encore. You just shake your head and laugh at his antics. Fortunately, for Jeongguk’s sake, they agree on one more song. And the boy is so happy you can’t help but feel the emotion too.

When the show is officially over, Jeongguk offers to walk you home—he claims it to be the gentlemanly thing to do—and you don’t dare argue. The walk back to your apartment is spent talking more about music under the lights of the small town. In all honesty, you had forgotten how pretty it could be at night.

“If you like the band that played tonight, there’s another similar one that’s playing at the same location next week…”

You look up as Jeongguk trails off, his face softy illuminated by the streetlights. “Are you asking me out again?” You tell him this with a raised brow and enjoy it when he starts to look all flustered.

“Um…no,” he scratches the back of his head, “…maybe?” He says all of this without looking at you, which you find absolutely adorable.

“Well, if you’re maybe asking me out…I’ll maybe say yes.” You laugh at your own words and only cease when you suddenly feel Jeongguk stop walking, and grab both of your hands. You jump a little at the contact, his warm hands a stark contrast against the cool night.

“Really?” he smiles widely, revealing a bunny-like grin.

“Uh…s-sure,” you stutter, but pray that he didn’t notice.

“Cool,” he says, lifting up his chin. “Then, will you go out with me again?”

You tell him yes and he practically skips the rest of the way to your place—one hand still tightly clutching one of yours.

The rest of the way there, you can’t even think straight. Your mind screams he’s holding your hand y/n! and you can’t stop the thought from resurfacing every point five seconds. But once you see your building come into view, you release a slight sigh of relief.

“Well, I guess this is it.” Your feet plant onto the stiff fabric of your doormat, slowly kicking at it. You look up at Jeongguk, only to see that he’s already staring right at you.

“Thanks again for coming out tonight,” he smiles.

You return it, “Thanks for inviting me.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of you and you don’t know if you should go inside, or do anything at all. It also doesn’t help that Jeongguk is still firmly holding onto your hand. As you finally decide to just call it a night, you turn around and slip your key inside the lock.

“Y/n?” Jeongguk suddenly calls your name.

Turning around, you’re about to ask him why he called your name. But before you can, you realize that he is inches away from you. His hand has detangled from your own and found its way to your face, gently cupping it.

“What—” and as the word leaves your lips, his own meet yours.

And you’re frozen; mind devoid of thoughts, body incapable to moving. But just as quick as everything begins, it all ends just as fast. The warmth emitting from his body is gone, and all you want to do is have it back.

“Have a good night, y/n,” he says, hand caressing your face.

“You too,” you reply quietly, head spinning.

Jeongguk’s thumb runs over your cheek one last time before he leaves. And even when he is gone, you continue to stand there completely dumbstruck. Eventually, you realize how strange this all looks—meaning, what if one of your neighbors saw you—and snap yourself out of the trance.

Shutting the door behind you and walking down the hall to your bedroom, you run a finger over your lips the entire time. Once you reach your room, you fall onto the bed with a sigh and stare at the ceiling. You don’t know how long you stare, but what you do know is Jeongguk plagues all your thoughts. Everything almost feels like a dream, but the only thing reminding you that this is reality is the warmth you still feel pulsating through your hands.

Somewhere beside you, your phone vibrates and your hand flies over your covers searching for it. Once you get ahold of it, you press the power button on the side and see a text message from Jeongguk.

Instantly, your heart starts to beat a little faster.

You swipe his name and see the cheesiest goodnight text that nearly makes you throw your phone across the room, but you love it at the same time. The question of whether or not to text back stresses you for a moment before you decide to hell with it, responding with a simple goodnight.

It was clearly the easy thing to do, but you have had enough over-stimulation of feelings today to last forever. You don’t expect Jeongguk to text back, it was late after all. So you decide to head off into dreamland yourself, already dreading going back to work in the morning.

Washing up, you change into your pajamas and slip underneath your covers. In the drawer of your nightstand, you pull out an extremely worn-out journal and fish for a pen. Every night, you write out the events of your day. The good, the bad, the ugly—everything. It was therapeutic, really; you have been doing it every night since…

And that’s when you realize Min Yoongi hasn’t crossed your mind a single time the entire night. This was a first for you; you were used to him filling even the littlest of your thoughts.

Not only was it a relief, but you could breathe again.

***

You think about Jeon Jeongguk for days after the kiss.

During your shifts at the music store, you randomly find yourself unconsciously running a finger over your lips; as you do this, you think beyond your shock of the overall situation and vividly recall how soft his lips had felt against yours.

Not only do you think about the kiss, but the feeling of his fingers against your skin still lingers and it drives you insane. As much as you try to make everything go away, he never leaves your thoughts.

Strangely enough, you pray that he shows up at the shop. Every time the door chimes open, you look up expecting Jeongguk to stand there smiling; but of course, he doesn’t walk in.

You don’t see him again until the next Friday, when he rings your doorbell again.

“Date number two already?” you say the moment you see his face, trying not to look too eager. But as you drink in his outfit and how his dark hair is parted to the side, you are sure that the façade falls.

“You’re the one who said yes.” A smile lights his face. “Ready?”

All you do is nod and Jeongguk slips his hand into yours immediately, as if it was something completely natural, and your heart starts to pound a little faster.

***

“Remember when we first met?” Jeongguk asks you one day, a few weeks after that second date, while lightly nipping at your neck. The two of you were watching a movie in your small apartment, a routine that started occurring every Tuesday night.

You moan at the feeling of his lips against your bare skin, merely nodding because you can’t even begin to process actual words. The memory of your first meeting briefly fills your mind; you remember feeling an array of emotions that morning: shock from Yoongi’s new album, a connection with Jeongguk, and a pleasant surprise from how it all turned out to be.

“Well, I lied.”

“What?" You’re confused. What did he even lie about?

“When I asked you how long you had been working there, I actually already knew the answer.”

With that, Jeongguk begins to suck on your sensitive skin and you clutch onto him tighter. “Are you a stalker?”

He pulls away, laughing, “No—I’ve been to your job multiple times before. Meaning, I’ve seen you before that first time we formally met.”

“Then why did you even ask?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you,” his lips are close to your skin again, “like, have a real conversation aside from the generic how can I help you. I wanted to from the moment I first walked into the store, but I was always too afraid.”

“What gave you the courage to speak with me?”

“Truthfully? When you told me you liked that album.” Jeongguk raises his head, looking into your eyes. He smiles, bringing a hand to your face. It’s the same look he gave you that particular morning, and you melt on the spot.

“Really?”

He smiles even wider, “I’m pretty sure I fell for you on the spot. I had never met anyone who had the same appreciation for music like me before”

Fell for you. You can only hear those three words.

“Y/n, I don’t know if what I feel for you is love…but I know damn sure that it’s close,” as he says this, you can see how genuine his eyes are—so large and vulnerable.

For a moment, you don’t say anything. What can you say? The boy just spilled everything to you, but you aren’t exactly sure how to spill everything you feel too. But you must hesitate too long because Jeongguk’s face begins to change; he’s second-guessing himself. So you crash your lips onto his, cutting off any words he has to say.

In the kiss, you try to tell him you’re falling for him too. You try to express that in a way, he saved you from the person you were becoming. And you only pull away when you feel that he understands.

“You made me nervous for a second,” Jeongguk breathes.

“I’m bad with words,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. You only cease when he grabs your hands, holding them tight.

He laughs, “A simple same would’ve sufficed.” And that’s when you push yourself away from him.

“Stop making me feel bad.”

Jeongguk wraps his arms around you, “I was just joking.”

And you can’t help but give into his embrace, his warmth filling you. At this moment, you feel whole; a smile makes its way onto your face as you think about the words Jeongguk said to you again.

You bury your head into the crook of his shoulder and whisper a few words that are barely audible to your own ears. You aren’t sure if Jeongguk heard them, but you get your answer as his body tenses up. “What did you say?”

Lifting your head off, you press a gentle kiss against his lips, “I want you.”

He stares at you, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

“You said that you’re falling for me, right?” you quirk an eyebrow up.

“Yeah…but I want you to be ready…”

You press yourself closer to him, finding a surge of courage to trail a series of kisses against his jaw, “I am…”

“Really?” his breaths are already uneven.

“I feel the same way about you, Jeongguk,” you look up at him, “and I want this—I really do.”

And you aren’t lying; you thought that maybe you’d be shaking with nerves right now, but you’re strangely calm. You really want to share this experience with him. This was by no means going to be your first time, but you had held it off with Jeongguk because what you are beginning to feel is real with him.

He isn’t just someone you want to fuck and then forget about—this time is different. He’s different than the other guys you’ve used to take your mind off Yoongi.

“You’re sure about this?” Jeongguk asks.

You nod once, “Positive.”

And before you can say anything else, your body is raised off the couch by Jeongguk and he practically races to the bedroom.

“Hey, how do you know where my room is?” you giggle, teasing him.

He makes it there in no time and drops you onto the white sheets covering your bed, smirking at you before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I’ve been dreaming about this for a while now.”

You instantly go hot, red flushing your entire body. And you aren’t sure what to say, feeling speechless from what he just said. Somehow, your mouth musters up something but you swear that they probably aren’t even actual words.

Jeongguk stands up straight and peels the t-shirt he is wearing off, and you can barely contain the need inside as you take in his taut physique. You loved him for his sweet personality and his body was icing on the cake. He then loosens the buckle on his jeans and takes them off, and you notice immediately how hard he is already.

Your brain can barely comprehend that this is happening right now.

Leaving his boxers on, Jeongguk helps you out of your shirt. When he unclasps your bra, he moans at the sight of your bare breasts and begins kissing down your body. He starts from your collarbones to your breast, and then your stomach to right below your bellybutton. Every kiss is fire, igniting a small gasp from your lips.

He continues teasing kisses above the edges of your shorts and you just want to beg him to rip them off already. After another few kisses, he slowly tugs the material down, leaving you almost fully exposed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jeongguk’s eyes are dark and dilated. One of his hands has moved up to cup and pinch your nipples, eliciting a moan from you.

And although he has barely touched you, you can already feel your body drumming with excitement.

“Touch me, Jeongguk,” you say, moving his hand directly to where you want him to be.

He curses at how your juices have started to soak through. You begin rotating your hips slowly, feeling bolder as Jeongguk begins to crumble before you. He leans down to kiss you deeply and slips two fingers underneath the waistband of your panties.

The moment he begins to circle his fingers around your clit you fall back in pleasure. You moan at the pressure he applies; he knows just what to do and it feel so damn good. With each sound that comes from your mouth, Jeongguk moves his fingers faster and you feel yourself becoming undone.

But just before your high comes, he stops. A frustrated moan leaves your lips. You lift your head up and narrow your eyes, “Stop teasing.”

Jeongguk just laughs and peels your underwear down your legs, tossing it to the side. Then, he brings his fingers back to your clit, rubbing it a few times before sliding two fingers inside of you.

You moan his name as you prop yourself up on your forearms. The same high from earlier begins to build up again and you want it come badly. He begins pumping his fingers in and out, building a steady rhythm. Your hips unconsciously begin to buckle up, meeting his finger thrusts.

“Oh my god—I’m close,” you tell him, body tightening up.

And as Jeongguk eases another finger inside, that’s it—you scream his name as an orgasm deliciously washes over you.

He pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his mouth.

“Fuck!” you’re sensitive and Jeongguk lapping at your core doesn’t help. Soon, you feel another wave of pleasure hit you. Jeongguk quickly cleans you up and lifts his head off to crush you with a kiss. On his tongue, you can taste yourself and it makes you even more eager to have him inside you.

You voice this thought out loud and he wastes no time stripping his boxers off, revealing his hard cock already dripping with pre-cum. You lick your lips as Jeongguk reaches for his discarded jeans and retrieves a little foil packet. He rips the packet and rolls the condom over himself.

“Ready?” he asks, positioning himself over you.

You nod your head and he slowly enters you. The both of you groan at the stretch. Jeongguk was bigger than you thought, but you were so wet it barely hurt.

“Holy shit, you feel so good, y/n,” Jeongguk says once he’s all the way in.

“Move, Jeongguk,” you tell him, and he begins to move his hips.

Everything just feels so good and you can’t stop moaning. You bring your hands to cup your breast, kneading them and pinching your nipples. Jeongguk picks up his pace, digging his fingers into your hips as he pounds his cock deep inside of you. And just as pressure begins to build inside of you, he pulls out of you.

The loss of contact makes you let out a string of profanities. “What the hell?”

You watch as Jeongguk moves so he’s laying against the headboard of your bed. He smirks and motions with two fingers for you to come over. Even with your aching body, you crawl over to him and straddle his hips.

“Ride me, baby girl,” he whispers as you lean in to kiss him. The pet name causes your insides to twist up and a stupid smile to grace your face.

You lift yourself up and let him slip right into you. Moving your hips in a circle, you grind and watch Jeongguk’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Just like that,” he moans and you begin moving up and down.

Jeongguk kneads his hands into your ass and you moan when he moves them up to your nipples, pinching and twisting. After a few more thrusts, you let him that you’re going to cum again and he lifts you up a bit and begins slamming himself into you.

“Ohmygodjeongguk,” you can’t even breathe.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. And what sets you off is when Jeongguk brings his fingers to your throbbing bundle of nerves, rubbing until your second orgasm of the night hits you.

Immediately, you collapse into Jeongguk, feeling completely spent and exhausted. He continues thrusting into you, riding out your high, until he reaches his own. When he does, he moans your name and you press a few kisses on his chest.

The both of you don’t say anything for a moment, still catching your breaths.

“Wow,” you finally say, and you can feel Jeongguk’s chest vibrate with laughter. You lift your head up and raise a brow, “What’s so funny?”

He just smiles, “Nothing. It’s just that wow is the perfect word. You’re amazing…”

Your face heats.

“…and beautiful.”

You become even redder, leaning back down to bury yourself into the crook of his neck. And Jeongguk doesn’t say anything else; he just wraps you in his arms and savors the moment.

***

In the blink of an eye, six whole months go by.

Time spent with Jeongguk makes hours feel like seconds. When the two of you are together, you forget all of your problems and are filled with an abundance of happiness. And sometimes, you can’t even believe that you’ve only known him for a short time; it feels like you’ve known him forever.

With him, you feel at ease. You don’t have to try to be something you’re not.

And as Jeongguk begins to fill a void in your life, you think of Yoongi less and less. Sometimes, he feels like a person you just made up; and then you see his promotional posters and suddenly remember how real he was. But the pain is lesser now; your heart no longer calls for him in a sea of unrequited love.

You’ve finally embraced a new start.

Also, you feel…happy. Really happy. You realized that you are deserving of happiness and love; the thought that you actually considered following Yoongi around like a lost puppy for all your days seems nearly unbelievable now. The girl you were back then is someone you don’t want to be again. It’s unhealthy to love someone so much just to not be loved back.

“What are you thinking about?”

Jeongguk’s voice brings you out of your daze. You blink a few times, “Nothing.”

You look up at the boy your heart has grown immensely for and you can barely stop the smile from gracing your face. You barely recognized yourself sometimes; who was this new y/n who smiled all the time?

“Admit it—you were thinking about how hot I am, right?”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you roll your eyes dramatically, laughter bubbling from your lips. “But if you really want to know…I was thinking about how happy you make me.”

The smirk on his face softens to a gentle smile and he captures your lips in a kiss. He brings both hands to cup your face and press your bodies closer together. Desire begins to pool inside of you, and you want nothing more than for Jeongguk to push you against the bed and pull your panties aside.

“We have to go, Jeongguk,” you murmur as his lips travel down your neck.

He groans against your skin, “Right…we have plans.”

Your mind flashes back to just a few hours earlier. It was your day off so you had spent the majority of your time just lounging around, not being extremely productive. You finally got out of your bed around noon when Jeongguk stopped by, bringing some lunch with him.

Food was always great, so you two just popped some Netflix on and sat together for an hour. The two of you were halfway into some movie when Jeongguk turned toward you and suddenly said, “Let’s go out tonight.”

You had thought about it for a second, “Sure, why not?”

It had been a few weeks since the two of you had spent some quality time together…outside of your apartments. Jeongguk said he knew the perfect place for you two to go and that he’d be back tonight to pick you up.

“It was your idea,” you gently remind him.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “but I didn’t think you would wear that dress.”

You were wearing one of your favorite dresses; a little maroon number that flattered the curves of your body well. The first time you wore the dress, it was sometime after your first night together, Jeongguk nearly made the two of you miss your dinner reservations.

“And?”

He raises a brow, “I don’t even want to go out anymore.”

You just laugh at his tone as he stands up and brushes his hair back. “We’ll have time later.” You look up at him with the promise in your eyes and notice his eyes darken considerably.

As you get up off the edge of your bed, smoothing out your dress, Jeongguk pulls your body close and you yelp at the sudden movement. He kisses you one final time before you slip your shoes on and the two of you walk out the door.

He drives down your street and under the city lights, which cast a gorgeous glow against his skin. Jeongguk steers with one hand, while the other intertwines with yours.

“So where are we going?” you ask.

“It’s somewhere new,” is all he says. And when he pulls up to the place, it is somewhere the two of you haven’t been before. At least, you hadn’t been here with him before.

You turn to face him as he parks his car in a vacant spot, “A club?”

And it wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea of clubbing, but you didn’t think that Jeongguk was into these sorts of places. He was a let’s just chill and go to small bar type of guy, or so you thought.

“This isn’t really our typical scene, I know, but a friend told me about some hip musician coming out tonight and I just had to check it out,” he explains. “We don’t have to stay long, if you don’t want.”

“I don’t mind it at all,” you tell him and he smiles.

“Great.”

The two of you get out of the car and walk to the doors. Even though it was the middle of the week, there was a line circling the place and cameras everywhere.

“Who’s the musician?” you ask your boyfriend, realizing all the people must be here for him.

Jeongguk just shrugs, “I don’t know who he is, but I do know that he’s huge in Seoul.”

“So why the hell is he here?”

“Beats me,” he laughs.

You and Jeongguk end up waiting in line for probably fifteen minutes. And when you get inside the club, you’re at a loss for words at how grand and colorful everything is. The last time you had been in here was high school, and the place had been less than stellar.

“Woah,” you breathe, “when did they renovate this place?”

“Apparently, someone bought it out and changed everything.”

“That’s amazing.”

Following Jeongguk, he leads you two deeper into the club and to the bar. He orders a beer while you order the special for tonight. When the bartender hands you the concoction, the drink is a shade of bright pink and Jeongguk nearly chokes at the sight.

“What’s in that thing?” he asks.

“A little of everything,” the bartender smiles. “It’s a favorite of the owner.”

While your boyfriend is clearly worried for your life, you just shrug and remind him of your high alcohol tolerance with a smile. Jeongguk just rolls his eyes and prompts you to try it. You tip your head back and let the pink liquid flow down your throat. It’s gone within seconds, and you set the glass down with a grimace.

“It’s…interesting,” you say with a slight cough. “People don’t order more than one, right?”

Bartender guy just shrugs and smirks, “Depends.”

You didn’t even want to know. The drink honestly wasn’t that great; all the different alcohols made it too strong and overwhelming. You tell the bartender you’re fine, not really feeling like drinking the night away. Instead, you drag Jeongguk out to the dancefloor and demand that he show you his best moves. He laughs and says that he doesn’t know how, but you just raise a brow not convinced.

“You’re way too smooth in bed not to have dancing experience,” you tell him boldly, enjoying how his eyes deeply look into yours underneath the colored LED lights. And he doesn’t say anything at your comment, choosing to let his actions speak instead.

Jeongguk places his hands on your hips before roughly pulling you closer, so your body aligns perfectly with his. You nearly moan at the contact, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“You make it awfully difficult to control myself,” he says, looking down at you.

“What if that’s the goal?”

You begin to dance to the music, moving along with the beat and remembering to push your body harder against Jeongguk every now and then. Surprisingly, he dances with you too; he moves fluidly with the song and even catches the attention of a few women around you.

When the song ends, you start breathing harder and smile at your boyfriend, “I thought you said you couldn’t dance?”

He just shrugs, “I guess it’s natural.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes with a smile and tell him that you need to use the bathroom.

You walk away from Jeongguk and say you’ll find him at the bar later. You aren’t sure where the restrooms are, since there weren’t signs anywhere. But eventually, you find a little hole in the wall of the club and are relieved to see a glowing sign that reads women. You walk inside not expecting much, but what you see is a pleasant surprise.

This was a definite upgrade from the previous bathroom they had. The walls were painted a pretty shade of blue and neon pink lights were placed around randomly. But the best part was that the room was air-conditioned.

Your main issue with the bathrooms last time was that they lacked proper ventilation, which sucked. It was already hot enough in the main area of the club. And that was why you told Jeongguk you needed to use the bathroom—you just needed a breather.

After washing your hands and checking your makeup, you walk back out and feel the wave of humidity wash over you. It was gross, but you needed to find Jeongguk. The club was a lot bigger than you remembered and you end up forgetting which direction the main bar is. All the walking was making your heel clad feet begin to ache. You just wanted to take them off and go barefoot, but the floors of this place were probably filthy.

You end up finding an empty table to lean against for a moment and pull out your phone…which you realize you left with Jeongguk since you had no pockets. Great. You decide to just wait and let him find you himself; you knew he would come for you eventually.

And as you’re waiting for Jeongguk to show up, you listen to the music. All the songs that play are some that you know well, until one comes on that you’ve never heard of before. Despite being a clear dance song, it has a certain aesthetic quality and you love it. The production is done well and must have taken a while to create. The words of the song are also quite deep and you really feel the emotions coming from the singers. You can’t really tell who the artist is, since it has a vocalist and a rapper, but you were sure it was someone you have heard of before.

But before you can try to guess the singers, it ends and you make a mental note to search it up later when you get home.

“And that ladies and gents was the newest single from our very own Suga!” You hear someone shout that through the speakers and immediately your body goes rigid despite the cheers from the crowds.

It was no secret how famous Suga has gotten over the last few months. Ever since the drop of his album, he has topped every music chart there is. You can’t even begin to recall how many times his album sold out at the store, people leaving empty-handed and disappointed.

And with this newfound popularity, you now saw his face everywhere.

Every billboard had his face plastered on it and every other television commercial was him. It was like you couldn’t escape his presence at all. But seeing this new Suga person all over the place didn’t feel like Yoongi to you all.

Suga was just another pop star to you. And as if the universe was playing games with you, you begin to hear his voice.

“…It’s nothing, really. It was a project I’ve been working on the moment I went to Seoul.”

That’s when it hits you—the musician who is here tonight at the club is none other than Yoongi himself. The thought nearly makes you throw up. You figured he would spend the rest of his days in Seoul, working on music and doing concerts. The last thing you expected was for him to show up here again, a place where the two of you used to hang out.

Why did he come back?

Why was he here?

You can’t see his face anywhere, but it was his voice—you’d know it anywhere. You nearly want to punch yourself for not recognizing his voice in the song. But perhaps time made you less tuned to him.

Even though you didn’t know where Yoongi was in the club, he was close and you could feel your body begin to shake. His voice gets closer and closer and you realize it’s coming from in front of you.

So you tilt your head down, hoping he doesn’t see you.

You haven’t given Min Yoongi much time or thought these last few months and you really didn’t want to start now. Besides, you haven’t thought about what you’d say if you ever saw him again because you never thought you would see him again. But your body betrays you and as he begins to walk in your line of sight, you look up and meet his gaze immediately.

Whatever he was saying ceases and his entire facial expression changes.

A year changes a person. So, imagine how much someone could change in almost two years. Yoongi was no exception to that fact. His once dark hair that you remembered so well was a shade of pink now, practically glowing underneath the lights. The way he carried himself was different too; he was confident now, standing tall and dressed from head to toe like a true star.

You wish, more than anything, that you could read his mind. What was he thinking? Did he see how much you had changed too?

“Y/n,” he’s the first to say anything, taking a step closer to you. The people he was with tell him that they’ll catch him before the nights done and walk away. You wanted to yell for them to come back and take him away; you didn’t want to talk.

He walks until he is standing a foot away from you, and everything feels surreal. And your heart—your stupid, stupid heart—is beating so fast.

“Hey,” he says, “how have you been?”

You just look up at him, not understanding why he’s trying to talk to you. But you tell him that you’re doing well and there is obvious surprise in his eyes. “Why? Didn’t think I could be happy?”

He shakes his head, “Of course not; you deserve to be happy, y/n. I just…I just didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.”

“Just because you left for Seoul doesn’t mean I did,” and you don’t know what’s happening, but a dam seems to break inside of you. “And literally what the hell; how dare you have the nerve to ask how I’m doing and act surprised that I’m here tonight. You haven’t talked to me for almost two years, Yoongi. Two years.”

“Y/n…”

“Do you even know…” you can feel the tears starting to fill your eyes. “Fuck. I was doing great Yoongi, and seeing you here again has reminded me of everything I tried to forget.”

You were getting louder and starting to cause a scene. People were staring and probably wondering why a girl like you was talking to Suga—Seoul’s hottest rapper. Yoongi must notice all the stares too because he suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you off the table, and drags you away. You try to resist him, but his hold on you is strong and he doesn’t stop until he reaches a secluded area of the club. It’s a dimly lit hallway with some posters adorning the walls.

“Let go of me,” you jerk your hand away from him and he releases it.

“I think we need to talk, y/n.”

You nearly laugh at his words, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“What were you trying to say back there?” he asks, ignoring you.

He was never going to let this go and you hated yourself for letting emotions cloud your judgment. You think about everything that’s happened over the last two years. When Yoongi left, you seriously thought that your life was over. You don’t even remember how many sleepless nights you had, wishing that he would just call you. Thinking about how sad your life was back then hurts.

“When you left I…why didn’t you call?” you can hear your own voice breaking. “Why didn’t you text? Or something?”

He rakes a hand through his hair, “I don’t know…”

“Do you know how long I waited?”

Yoongi looks at you as a tear falls down your face. You quickly swipe it away, clearing your throat. As bad as he had fucked your life over, there was a light at the end of the tunnel—Jeongguk. Although he was no Yoongi, he made you feel almost normal again. You weren’t kidding when you said that he saved you.

You think about Jeongguk and his endearing smile, realizing he must be so worried about you. “I’m happy now—happier than when you were around,” you tell him, and he winces at the words.

“Why didn’t you wait a little longer?” the question slips so softly out of Yoongi’s mouth you almost didn’t hear it. You look at him confused; what did even mean?

“I don’t know; guess I got tired of waiting.”

At this point, you’ve backed yourself against one side of the hall and Yoongi’s at the other. But with your answer, he closes the gap between the two of you. He’s so close you can feel his breath fan your hair. You swallow nervously, the hallway suddenly feeling too hot.

“I’m sorry,” he says and your hands tighten into fists. “For hurting you and not calling. I fucked up, y/n. Please forgive me?”

“That’s all you can say? You want me to forgive you for not calling?” You look into his eyes. “I wish you would apologize for making me love you.”

Where your words came from, you had no idea. But even you’re shocked that they came out at all. Yoongi seems equally, or more, shocked that you brought up the conversation the two of you had years ago. “You still…you love me?”

You advert your eyes from him. He probably thinks you’re foolish to still love him. After all, he did reject you. Yoongi probably thought you were some sad case to still feel this way about him despite how much time has passed already.

“I don’t know,” you say, looking down. “I’ve moved on, I really have, but I think…I think a part of me will always love you.”

“Y/n,” he says your name and you muster a bit of courage to look up.

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me words,” a sigh leaves your mouth. “I still remember that night in your apartment when you told me that you didn’t feel the same way. I thought I had grown past that moment already. I—”

But before you can go on about how stupid you are, Yoongi brings his arms up to cage you between the wall and him. You let out a shaky breath at his sudden closeness.

“You talk too much,” he says, voice low. “You always have.”

Your nerves are too bundled up to laugh at his comment.

Instead, you ask, “Why are you here tonight?”

“Seoul’s amazing, but I’ve missed home…and you.”

The way Yoongi looks at you leaves you at a loss for words. He missed you? Although his words made your heart pulse a little faster, you tried not to be too happy. Even if he did miss you, he never called and that was a fact you still couldn’t let go.

“I doubt that,” you say.

“I mean it, y/n,” he pounds a fist against the wall and you’re startled for a moment. “Shit. Sorry.”

You blow some air out of your lungs, “Look, Yoongi…I don’t have time for this.”

As you tell him this, the look in his eyes becomes desperate. Yoongi begs you to stay as you attempt to move away from his body. And when you nudge his arms away, they just grab onto your wrists.

“Yoongi,” you say, struggling. “Let me go.”

And he does let your wrists go, only to replace them with his lips on yours.

For a moment, you’re frozen; the kiss is quick and ends before you can say anything at all. Yoongi pulls away and breathes heavily before you. You try to find words to say, but nothing comes out.

“Kiss me again,” you say after an eternity of silence and he doesn’t hesitate.

You’re lost in the feeling of his lips against yours. He pushes you against the wall, pressing his body firmly against yours. Yoongi’s hands grab your face, your hair, your waist—he can’t keep his hands off of you. And everywhere that he touches leaves a searing burn.

This was what you have been waiting for since you confessed all those years ago. You should be ecstatic and beyond joyful. Kissing Yoongi is all you’ve ever wanted and it is happening right now. You moan into his lips as he presses himself even closer to you, so close you can feel every ridge of him through your dress.

You’ve imagined kissing him since forever, and it’s even better than every fantasy you’ve ever had.

So why did you feel so bad?

You begin to feel tears pool underneath your closed eyes. When Yoongi feels a tear hit his fingers, he pulls away. “Hey…what’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this,” you whisper.

“Y/n…”

“I’m sorry.” As you say this, you untangle yourself from him and run. You run back out into the crowd of people and look back to see that Yoongi, although staring right at you, hasn’t moved an inch. He didn’t come after you; he never would.

You feel disappointment gnaw at your insides, but you suddenly jump when a hand comes to rest on your shoulder. Looking up with wide eyes, you immediately relax when you realize it’s just Jeongguk.

“I’ve been looking for you. Where did you go?” he asks surveying your face, and his mouth tightens when he notices you’ve been crying. “What happened?”

You wipe you face, “Nothing. I’m okay.” Liar; you were anything but okay. “Can we just go?”

Jeongguk nods and presses a kiss to your forehead, placing a hand on the small of your back to lead you out. As the two of you get closer and closer to the entrance doors, you sneak a look behind and notice that Yoongi hasn’t stopped looking at you.

When you realize this, you quickly turn back around. Even from across the club, his eyes manage to make you feel too much. And you hate it. The power he still has over you almost makes you sick.

That night, when you and Jeongguk return to your apartment, he makes love to you—just like you had promised him earlier. You try your best to be into it, but your hearts not and you just hope he doesn’t notice the less than thrilled orgasm you fake. After the two of you are done, he falls asleep with his arms spooning you from behind. His touch is comforting, but you can’t fall asleep.

A single thought keeps you awake: Yoongi kissed you and you let him. And you don’t know how to feel or what to even begin thinking.

All you know was that it felt like you were transported back to square one.

[momentofmemory]

it’s almost the end of october, which means one of the greatest, most terrifying exploits known to writers is upon us: NaNoWriMo.

there are plenty of super good survival posts out there, but as this’ll be my seventh time participating (six wins, hoping for a seventh), i thought i’d drop my own set of tips into the mix. i’m going to focus mostly on the practical details of how to write; if you want tips on the writing itself either search the writing/reference tags or pester me to do another one later :P with that said, ~on with the post~

Step One: Figure Out Your Goal

i know, i know, obviously it’s to write 50k, but what does that mean to you? are you expecting

polished prose, ready to send off to a publisher?

being able to write every day? 

just throwing up a bunch of ideas?

a mix of everything?

all of these are valid, but they’re going to require different approaches. if you want jaw-dropping writing, you’re going to need in the ballpark of five or more hours each day, if not more. if you want consistency, you’ll want to look at your normal schedule and set up a couple times you know you can write at. if just you want words, pretty much all you need to make sure is that you squeeze writing time in whenever.

your goal will probably change as the month progresses, and that’s totally fine. just check in every so often to remember a)what you’re working for and b)if it’s actually plausible. speaking of...

Step Two: Realize Your Limitations

1. Typing.

imma get super practical here: your typing speed dictates how fast you can get done. if you write 40wpm (the average), you cannot write the full 1667 in a half hour any more than you can run a mile in under three minutes. it’s honestly not a bad idea to check out your own speed, if only to help you understand yourself better. in my experience, actual writing then works like this (using my max speed, 89, as an example):

Absolute Max: 89 wpm (baseline)

Warring: 70 (75% of baseline)

In the zone: 45 (50% of baseline)

Taking my time, concentrated: 22 (25% of baseline)

anything lower than your max/4 probably means you’re spending a lot of time either researching or staring at the page, so just be aware of that.

2. Time & Focus

this kinda goes without saying, but best case scenario this is at least 1-2 hours of your life a day, or dedicating full Saturday/Sundays if you’re a weekend warrior kind of person. it’s so, so worth it if you can make time for it, but also don’t feel bad if you can’t! doing a half nano (25k) or whatever you want is also a fully acceptable plan.

that said, if you do have time, figure out your focus too. if you’ve never been the kind of person that can type for six hours straight, you will probably not magically become this person when it hits Nov. 1 (though with practice, you might be by Nov. 30). i like trying to write at least 300 before work and another 300 during lunch. that way there’s only 1k left for the evening, and having words on the page just makes me feel better. experiment with different ways of blocking out your time in the first few days and see what works best for you.

3. Don’t Forget You Live in a Body

writing is hard work, you will need to eat brain food! hunching over wrecks your back, stand up and stretch every so often! you will hate existing if you forgo sleep for days! and for the love of charles dickens, patron saint of getting paid by the word, take care of your mother-effing wrists!!

seriously on that last one. i’ve ignored it in the past and thoroughly screwed up my wrists one year; don’t be me. keep in them in a neutral position, do regular stretches, and if you need to, get wrist wraps (i recommend these).

Step Three: Actually Doing the Thing

the previous steps have had pretty broad advice, but now it’s time to get down to the nitty-gritty. these are mostly things i know work for me, and therefore may not for you—adjust to your own needs!

1. Write for 15 Minutes Every Day, Non-Negotiable.

i don’t even mean this is a “write 15 min and then your brain will be tricked into writing more” kinda way, but like, literally. you’re probably not going to be able to do 1667 every day—sometimes you’ll be tired and just won’t have the time. you’re very likely, however, to have 15 minutes, and you’ll want to use them. Doesn’t matter if you write 50 words or 500 in that time, at least you’ll have done something, and that’s usually enough to keep you from feeling like just giving up the next day.

2. You Might Need Physical Spaces

i’m a pretty sensory person when it comes to writing, and having a dedicated writing space is so helpful for me. going back to the idea of being an embodied person, it’s a lot easier to get your brain into a writing mode if your body’s already there. some good options include:

coffee shops (cozy! food!)

a specific room in your home (easily accessed! do what you want!)

libraries (free! quiet!)

a friend’s house (writing buddy! easy access to sounding board!)

all of these places usually have access to wifi, which is a positive.

3. You Definitely Need Digital Spaces

i pretty much always write in the same processor, once again because it helps set the mood. the main options include:

google drive (solid choice, cloud backup, mobile accessible)

dabble writer (cloud backup, links to nano, dark mode, chapter options)

write or die (only for actual writing—a scary but effective motivator; save elsewhere)

word/pages/etc. (ready to go on your computer, formatting options)

scrivener (great plotting tools, detailed interface)

i use dabble writer myself (they’re a nano sponsor, so you can get it free for this month, and as a double bonus you get it half off for the rest of the year if you win). and no, i’m not getting paid to wax poetic about them, but honestly i’ve used it to win the past two years and i adore it. 

anyway my biggest tip here is that i SUPER SUPER DON’T RECOMMEND NON-CLOUD OPTIONS. it’s very risky, but if you must, do a proper back up at least once a week. that shiz is not worth it.

4. The Timer is Your New Best Friend

because i’ve heard this argument before: no, it’s not a crutch, and no, it’s not cheating. it’s literally best practices. i’m personally a big fan of this online timer, and i let it run for 15 min every time i write. after each session i check how many words i wrote, then after maybe a quick 1-2 min break, start over.

you can totally set the timer for longer or shorter periods, depending on what works for you. i’m a fan of the 15 min sessions bc it’s just long enough to get a bit of flow going, and just short enough that i can convince my spacy brain that we can get through it without wandering. it’s also a fantastic length for warring, if you’re down for that.

5. Write That Idea Down for Lewis’s Sake

the original idea for the chronicles of narnia came to c.s. lewis when he was at a restaurant, and thank the lord, he wrote it down on a napkin. he wouldn’t write it until some time later, but if he hadn’t written it down, he might’ve forgotten it. why is this important, you ask?

BC YOU WILL FORGET THINGS.

if you have an idea, write it down in your phone or your notebook or the waterproof paper in your shower, because i don’t care how sure you are that you’ll remember it, you super won’t. i’ve forgotten many solutions to plot holes in my time and i still hold vigils over their graves. don’t be me. write it down.

Step Four: Managing that Inner Critic of Yours

all right, pay attention. i’m not going to tell you not to edit, because i would be a massive hypocrite if i did. i totally edit during nano. the important part is letting your editor help you win, not hurt you. and that means gaming your critic’s system.

1. Have a Dedicated Deletion Section

many people hear “don’t delete anything” and baulk, because for some of us it’s distracting and we want to rewrite that section until it matches our vision. so, i’m here to tell you: delete it!! rewrite entire chapters!! just save the original content as part of your word count. this is another reason i love dabble, bc at the start of nano i just make a separate part of the book, label it “delete”, and any time i’m writing and dislike a sentence/paragraph i just dump it into that folder and move on. this way you still get to keep the numbers (and why shouldn’t you? you wrote them!) while also writing words you actually like. plus, sometimes that line you deleted in ch. 1 winds up being supremely pertinent in ch.15, and now you can just copy/paste it instead of having to try to remember what exactly you’d said.

2. Acknowledge Ranting as a Time Honoured Tradition

think there’s no precedent for that 2K diatribe you wrote on the london underground? well fear not, because you can’t possibly do worse than hugo’s entire chapters worth of content on the french sewer system! or melville’s frankly terrifying obsession with the finer features of whale biology!

like, yeah, maybe you’ll decide later you don’t need it, but for now, embrace that soap box. dead white guys have been doing it for centuries and still get places in college syllabi. the least you can do is give it a place in your word count.

Step Five: Have Fun!

i know, i know, it’s cliche, but seriously. if this isn’t fun, or at least rewarding, why are you doing it anyway? so enjoy it! send passages you’re proud of to your friends! daydream about it in the car on the way to work/school! cry over a notebook about the twist you just came up with! nano’s a time of fun and exploration, and you shouldn’t miss out on it because you’re thinking too much.

also, this might be counter productive to put at the end of an essay on nano, but don’t obsess over reading essays on nano :P there comes a time when one must simply do, and nano is pretty much the definition of that.

[selfcallednowhere]

February 3, 2018 Dallas, TX

They opened with "James K. Polk." This surprised me--I expected them to keep doing it during the Quiet Storm section cos that was what they did the previous two nights. I'm honestly feeling pretty burned out on this song live after seeing it a million times--seeing it done acoustically during Quiet Storm was different enough to keep me interested, but when it's just the normal arrangement I am yeh rather sick of it.

Next they played "Damn Good Times," the second song all three nights on this trip, which I very much am not sick of even though I've seen that one a bunch too. It's one of my favorite live songs, actually--it's just SO FUN. "Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had a Deal" was next and also superfun, even though the presence of Curt would've made it way better.

After that Flans said that this theater was "the box that rocks," and then, gesturing at the balcony, told us that we'd be meeting our accusers one by one and then all our verdicts would be read.

After "All Time What," Flans that it was time for the "fastest-singing portion" of the show, and that they were going to try to sing together. Then John said that this show was like a re-enactment of the instore they'd done earlier in the day cos so many of the same people were there. Then Flans said that he'd gotten our verdicts and we were all guilty.

I didn't really try to think about what song has them both singing really fast and singing together when he said it, but if I had I probably would've been able to figure out what the song was: "Letterbox." I was really excited to see it again, cos it's one of my top top top favorite songs.

After "New York City," Flans said that the show was "going too fast." Then he made them turn the house lights on for a "beard assessment." He said the beards looked "shockingly natural," and ordered a "round of beards" for everyone.

John said that they were going to be playing a lot of new songs and it was "a burden" and "a weight pressing down and crushing everything." I don't understand why they kept acting like we were going to hate seeing the new songs so much--I loved it and actually wished they would play more new songs.

Then Flans said that what they were aiming for was volume, and "as Bob Dylan said, there's just too much sound." Then they played a little bit, and Flans said if you buy I Like Fun you can get "all your favorite classical themes in one set."

Then they played "Mrs. Bluebeard." John really mangled the lyrics when they played it for the first time two days prior to this, but then the next day he did a lot better and only screwed up a couple of times and I was proud of him! But this time he was back to screwing up all over the place again. I was amused because afterwards he said "That's how it goes!" NO IT ISN'T JOHN. (Yes, I of course understand that he knew that too and that was the joke.)

Next they played "Music Jail, Pt. 1 & 2" which is one of my fav Glean songs, so I'm glad that one is still in the set.

After "Particle Man" and then "The Famous Polka," Flans said that they were playing two sets, which gives plenty of time to email and text.

Then:

JL: We're playing a lot of new songs, so bear with us. JF: No one likes the new songs, John. But we've already locked the doors!

Then there was this really obnoxious and probably drunk woman screaming for "When the Lights Come On," which they were most likely going to play anyway because they'd already played it at every other show on the tour. They said they weren't gonna play it and she just kept screaming for it. Then Flans said that they were gonna play it but now they weren't because of her, and then she started yelling "BUT I LOVE YOU," which made Flans tell a story about how they played at Bonnaroo which "is like being on the surface of Mars, you want to be anywhere else, and we were getting paid," and he met someone who told him how TMBG meant so much to them "and by the way, I love '500 Miles.'" Then the obnoxious woman went back to screaming, and I guess Flans figured there was no way to get her to shut the fuck up besides playing the song, so he asked John if he wanted to play it and John said "Sure. Fuck it." So then they played it and it was COMPLETELY AWESOME like it had been the other times I'd seen it, but also I was just happy to not have to hear that woman screaming anymore, and I'm sure all the rest of the crowd and the band and well anyone else in the building actually were too.

After "Your Racist Friend" they played "Nothing's Gonna Change My Clothes," YES YES YES. Even though I'd just seen it the day before I was ecstatic, since it's one of my fav songs and I've only seen it live a handful of times.

Next came "Cyclops Rock"--I'm really happy that's one of the Mink Car songs they've brought back into the set. It's great live--SO ROCKIN'.

Afterwards, Flans asked John about the current political climate.

JL: It's awesome! JF: Who needs nightmares when you have daymares? Things are gonna be great...later.

John introduced "The Mesopotamians" by saying that when he was a kid in 3000 BC there was a TV show about them.

Then came the set break and then Quiet Storm, the first three songs of which were the same as the previous two nights: "Older" and "I Like Fun" with the contra-alto clarinet, then "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" on accordion. Before the third Flans said they were "Tres Might Be Giants" and made Marty give a sample of what he can do with the electronic drums.

After that there was something that really upset me:

JF: How are you, John? How are you doing with that accordion? JL: I'm ok. The accordion...just have to deal with it.

This is definitely not the first time I've witnessed him complaining about how much he hates playing accordion these days and I'm sure it won't be the last, but it still really upsets me every single time because seeing him play it is pretty much my favorite thing.

Then Flans was talking about the storm sound effects--he reassured us that they are in fact not just fans blowing in mics.

Then they played MY THEME SONG. Nothing is ever going to be as special as seeing it for the first time the day before, but I was still unbelievably excited to see it again.

After that they played something they hadn't played either of the previous two days: "Meet James Ensor." So that was an unexpected surprise. I love that song, and I thought it worked really well in this format.

Then the band came back on stage. Flans introduced Dan as being "the finest guitarist in They Might Be Giants."

Next they played "Istanbul." I'm so unbelievably sick of this song live, but I do at least like the crazy jam session at the end of it. Flans jumped up on Marty's drum riser for part of it and it was silly.

Afterwards, Flans said he was sick of that acoustic music and that it "reminded him of his folkie days." Then he asked whoever was in charge of the A/C to turn it on (he was right, it was for some reason really warm even though it was chilly outside). Then he said that the next song they had to play "out of contractual obligation to our band."

The song was "Number Three," which is superfun live. It's become one of the Pink songs I've seen the most cos they've been playing it a lot the last few years, but I always really enjoy it.

Afterwards Flans said that they wanted to thank "the guy holding the beer perilously close to the end of his fingertips."

Then:

JF: This next song is from the album Glean, everybody. JL: That's right. JF: All the way back to 2015! JL: Not a song that we have to do. A song that we get to do. JF: Think about the good old days. 2015. Things seemed so...so normal then. No dystopian...hellscape.

They played "Answer," and then John put his accordion on and Dan came over to the keyboard. Flans said that he was getting on the keyboard "where he belongs," and I was like "Ummmm how does the keyboard player feel about you saying that?" But HEY if you ask me John does belong with his accordion on, not behind the keyboard.

The next song was a major show highlight for me: "Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head"! This is a very special song to me, it was my very first fav TMBG song (in other words the one I'd most rock out to as a 5-year-old hearing my dad play his cassette of Pink), and I still love it dearly now. I've only seen it a handful of times, so it was a big deal.

Next they played "Doctor Worm," which wasn't as big a deal since I've seen it a million times, but still really fun as always.

Flans was mentioning where the next few shows are going to be, and said if we know anyone in those places we should tell them to come to the shows.

Then:

JL: If you don't know anyone in those towns...the first letter of each city...backwards spells out...an important message. I know it seems like a random tour where you like...it's like drawing a star on the map. There really is a reason for it. JF: Our booking agent is keeping it a secret from us. JL: Yes, he hasn't told us what the message was. We haven't been able to figure it out. JF: But it appears the letters spell out some kind of swear word. JL: Yes. Something very harsh. JF: It seems to be some kind of swear word and then the words "you guys." We're not sure what it means. It's impossible to know what that message could mean. JL: Before we get off-track here. Apparently--there's a thing called the Kessler effect. [The name of the venue was The Kessler.] And I believe it originated here. What it is, is when stuff in space starts smashing into each other and...all of space is destroyed. Do you guys know about this? And I don't know why but this theater is the very first part of that chain. The Kessler effect. JF: I first heard about it when we were described as the Kessler effect of bands. JL: I mean, yeh. We've smashed into, um...Soup Dragons, I believe.

(I thought he might've been making this whole thing up, but my friend Ant, who's very knowledgeable about space stuff, informed me that no it's a real thing, it actually is when stuff in space smashes into other stuff and they break apart, and it can actually be really dangerous. The "all of space is destroyed" part I'm pretty sure he made up though!)

Then they played "The End of the Tour," which is so good live (though I do think it works best as a show closer).

Next came "Spy," lots of fun as always. At each show I'd been to John played a sample of something as part of his improv part--this time it was "Here Comes Santa Claus," which was silly. I also managed to scream during the parts when Flans was trying to get everyone in the crowd to scream, even though I was feeling almost weak from excitedly singing along with every song and screaming after they played songs I particularly loved.

Then they played "I Left My Body," which was the last I Like Fun song of the night.  I really loved all the new songs I got to see them play, but I just wish they'd played even more!

They closed out the main set with "Twisting," which was, as always, COMPLETELY KICKASS. For some reason Dan was singing the "she wants" backing vocals instead of John--I'm not sure what was up with that and I didn't like it.

They started the first encore with "Let Me Tell You About My Operation." This is my current favorite Flansong, so I love seeing it live.

Flans said that the next song was their new single, which I was confused by because they'd already played "I Left My Body" (which wasn't a single exactly, but the closest thing the album had). But he was just joking--it was actually "Why Does the Sun Shine?", which is of course very much not a new song. John informed us that things that are a gas on the sun included Fiestaware, which he held up his red mug when he said (holding tea instead of coffee this time, I noticed, as evidenced by the string and tag sticking over the edge). He paused for a long time before the list of things that the heat and light of the sun are caused by the nuclear reaction between, but finally it was "Stuff! Things! Items! And objects!" He is so silly!

The first song of the second encore was "Wicked Little Critta," and they closed the show the same way they did the night before: with "Birdhouse in Your Soul." A perfect close to a perfect night.

John continued on his "stripey shirts, nothing but stripey shirts" streak, so he was 3/3 on this particular show trip for me. This time it was a black and white stripey t-shirt that I don't think I've ever seen him wear before.

[ramblingclandestinethoughts]

Update on the therapy stuff so far

So I had my fourth appointment a couple of days ago and I kind of want to make a post about each one but still haven’t actually done it, so...gonna just make a long-ass post now about what it’s been like so far and hopefully I’ll keep up with it in the future. Right now we’re meeting weekly, and I really like her so far! She seems super nice and I feel comfortable talking to her. She doesn’t use a bunch of therapy jargon, platitudes, etc., and something else I really like is that she’s never tries to tell me what/who I am or what I should do? Like, she seems less interested in trying to tell me exactly what my sexuality is and what I should and shouldn’t do, and more interested in helping me figure out what I genuinely want. I can’t remember if this was in the second or third appt, but at one point she said something about how people often talk about how we should take risks and stuff - but it’s also ok if taking risks isn’t what you want. She said you should take risks if that’s what’s best for you personally, but it doesn’t have to be the case for everyone. If I want to try working things out with my bf because of the security of being with someone who I’m compatible with and close to (as opposed to taking the risk of exploring things with women) there’s nothing wrong with that - what we need to do is figure out if that’s truly what will make me happy. Anyway, below are details on the four appointments I’ve had so far:

2/25/20 - The first appt was sort of just a foundational kind of thing - telling her why I’m seeking therapy, some basics about why I’m questioning my sexuality, stuff about leaving religion and when/if I should tell my family about that, etc. We talked a little about compulsory heterosexuality (which I’m familiar with) and she asked me to research it in the next week and see if anything about it applies to me. (She usually gives people “homework assignments” of things to do or think about until the next session).

3/3/20 - We talked about a conversation I had with my dad a few days before about queer people and the Bible. The short version is that he and I started talking about it, I mentioned some of the arguments I’ve heard about why the Bible might not actually condemn homosexuality (without necessarily saying if I agreed with them or not, and definitely not mentioning that I no longer give a fuck about what the Bible says), he basically just said that he doesn’t think those arguments hold up. However, he also doesn’t believe it’s his place to try to decide who’s going to hell and who isn’t, and also that he doesn’t think it makes sense to expect people who don’t believe the Bible is true to follow what it teaches. So in other words, queer Christians are living in sin but he doesn’t think they’re going to hell any more than Christians who struggle with other sins, and there’s no point in telling people to be celibate if they aren’t Christian. He says he wishes he could accept queer people but can’t do it in good conscience, and I believe him - tbh I’m 99% certain he'd be a great ally if not for the fucking Bible. Anyway, we also talked about comp het stuff - the main ones that seem apply to me are liking unattainable men (celebrities, fictional characters, boys who didn’t like me back), never liking the idea of marrying a man (assumed I’d want to eventually), generally liking men that are somewhat “feminine” from a traditional standpoint (long hair, no beards, etc.), and thinking that women are objectively more attractive then men in general. This one is really interesting to me because I feel like I have so few childhood signs of being queer, but I do actually remember thinking this as a teenager. I remember being frustrated that it seemed like there were so few attractive guys but lots of attractive girls, and it was kind of unfair that guys had so many more options. 

3/10/20 - Last week I was supposed to think about the different crushes I’ve had on boys in the past and try to figure out why I was drawn to them. I looked at some old journals to help me remember stuff, which was kind of fun. The first crush I can remember was when I was 9 (fun fact: that guy is apparently now in prison? so I think I dodged a bullet there). The last one was in 2015, possibly through early 2016...so it’s been a while. It was kind of hard to remember how it felt to have a crush on someone, but I do remember it wasn’t too hard to get over them. Like I know I was sad about it when I realized they’d never like me back or whatever, but unless I’m remembering wrong I don’t think I was ever upset for a really long time or anything? I never knew any of the guys very well, and I’m not sure what exactly drew me to them. Mostly just that I thought they were attractive and I just generally felt drawn to them for some reason, but I never had the chance to actually form any kind of emotional connection to them. Another thing we talked about was core values and how they play into making decisions. We tried to pinpoint my top four out of this huge list, which was...kind of difficult, but I ended up with Personal Fulfillment, Kindness, Honesty, and Nature. This week I’m supposed to think about how making different decisions might look based on these core values.  

3/17/20 - We talked about a few different things this time. We went over the core values and how they might work with relationship decisions. At one point I told her about this girl from church youth group at high school I potentially felt attraction to this one time? The problem is I can’t remember it very clearly, but I just remember liking the way she looked and it must have been similar to how I used to feel when looking at cute boys, bc I do remember thinking something along the lines of “well I probably just like her clothes/I’m comparing my body to hers and even if I was somehow a lesbian (which I’m not, lol can you imagine? crazy idea) I would never act on something like that, so it doesn’t matter anyway.” It stands out to me because I can’t remember any other times from when I was younger that I was specifically attracted to a girl - I can just remember a few vague instances with girls I passed by on the street or whatever where I was “comparing myself to another girl’s body.” I also told her about how I’m watching Ocean’s 8 mostly for the eye candy (I felt it was relevant lol). Also we discussed the way I’ve been sort of semi-identifying as lesbian in my head and how I sort of...do little secretive pride things? Like I have a couple of rainbow socks I’ll wear if I’m feeling especially gay one day, etc. Then at the end talked a bit about how, when I’m talking to her about how I feel and verbally processing things, I tend to kind of just barely mention the things I’m anxious about regarding exploring my sexuality and then move onto something else - so she wants me to think about that more this week and try to pinpoint the specific things I’m afraid of. 

Things to think about:

Week 1. Research compulsory heterosexuality and see which things might apply to me.

Week 2. Think about past crushes on guys - what things about them attracted me? How hard were they to get over? lol not very hard

Week 3. Think about core values and how they might play into future decisions, particularly about relationships.

Week 4 (current). Examine/let myself feel anxiety about exploring sexuality - what I am afraid of, specifically?