#i was 12 so i was both fully conscious but it also gets that 'childhood memory' haze

[marsixm]

waiting to hear the storm roll in while reading wikipedia articles on previous storms i lived thru but dont fully remember/know all the details of

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (VIII): You Belong With Me.

Imagine you fall in love with your neighbor, who happens to be your childhood best friend, unaware that he bears now a bad reputation and is Alys Rivers’s boyfriend.

Warnings: none; fluff and drama; silly, light reading to start our 2024 well and relaxed. :p

***

You are just going back from college. These are trying days, when you are about to enter your last semester before finally closing the course y/c. Not to mention the internship and tons of final paperworks expected to be done in what should be your vacations.

Such are your thoughts as you go back home. You share your household with your cousin named Lya Baratheon at King’s Landing in a nice neighborhood. But when you arrive at last after two hours traveling by bus, you are welcomed by Aemond Targaryen, your childhood friend who happens to have moved next to you.

“Hello, there!”, Aemond smiles at you.

You promptly leave your backpack down at the garden of your house before running to him before being fully embraced by his strong arms.

“Aemond!”, you hold on tight. “Long time no see! I missed you!”

As he places you down eventually, Aemond sees the woman you’ve become: your y/c hair is tied in a ponytail, there’s also a sweet bangs over your eyebrows. Your face has softened in delicate features and this time there’s a red lipstick painting your lips.

Although you dress casually, Aemond’s eyes can tell you’ve got bigger boobs last time he saw you—and that was 15 years ago, when you were both 12 years old.—, which earns him a smirk.

“Looking beautiful as I remember, Y/N”, he is pleased when seeing you blush.

Some things never change.

“Oh please”, you giggle softly. “So you are my neighbor now, eh? What a coincidence.”

“Yeah, indeed it is. I didn’t know you were living here. My mother recommended this neighborhood after I refused sharing a household with Aegon.”

“Oh. Are you two still not getting along?”

Aemond puts his hands on his pocket jeans and laughs.

“We always got along, but we have been following different roads now. I’ll tell you about it later. Are you coming home from a travel or something?”

“I entered college later than my fellow classmates”, you tell him. “I wanted to work a bit before getting into this academic world. So I’m still about to close it.”

“And what are you studying?”, Aemond inquires, interested in your independent spirit.

As you tell him about your college course, you notice how handsome he’s become. Taller, indeed, but stronger and with eyes so full of life. Your heart flutters foolishly, especially when you remember the old days where you two were so attached that Mrs Alicent used to joke about the day you’d get married.

“Do you want to come inside?”, you invite him after a few more minutes catching up.

“I wish I could, but I’m waiting for my girlfriend”, Aemond hates to break the joy of this reunion, even more so when your smile falters lightly, but he had to be honest with you.

“Of course”, you try not to look so disconcerted. And why, oh why, would I? “Even so you can bring her too if you like.”

Aemond ponders it, aware of your good intentions, but probably more conscious that you know nothing about his past and who his girlfriend is.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll see you around, though.”

As you turn your back to go inside your home, you miss Aemond’s sad gaze following you. Your absence soon leaves a hole where he thought an old wound was closed for good…

***

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said. 'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do…

The next day you leave your bed earlier, trying to distract your head you opt to have some running outside. The morning is inviting and you need to get yourself some exercises before starting your college’s stuff.

After having breakfast and dressing, you pick your headphones and phone, all ready to go when you open the door and spot a very angry Aemond outside, sitting in the sidewalk as he speaks on the phone.

You sigh, probably wondering the cause. It’s either his family or his girlfriend. You carefully approach him, not letting be noticed until he turns off the phone.

“Fuck!”, he curses, before spotting you at last. “By the Maker! Sorry, Y/N, didn’t see you here.”

“No worries. I didn’t mean to intrude, but you looked upset and I came here to check on you.”

As Aemond stares at you almost in disbelief, he remembers how often as children he protected you of the bullies at school, and how you did the same whenever he misbehaved—often excusing his behavior before his own parents.

“We…just had a fight, is all”, he shrugs his shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, you ask him gently, sitting next to him.

“Not really, no.”

But he eventually does. You don’t know the woman’s name, but come to find out she is temperamental and willful, at times difficult to deal with.

For the first time in a while, Aemond feels heard. You are there for him, not a mere physical presence—and here he cannot help a comparison with Alys. At times he wonders how the hell he got so lost.

Towards the end of it, he is surprised by your embrace.

“I thought you might need it”, you explain before the disconcert look stamped in his face, which reminds you how often you used to climb his back as children and he’d awkwardly take you around his household.

The same idea runs in the back of his mind, making Aemond smile in nostalgia.

“Always the optimistic. You haven’t changed a bit, Y/N.”

A laughter echoes the air as you two share a look.

***

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like. And she'll never know your story like I do…

You have finished your final assignments after all. Considering preparing something to eat, you do miss having a company. Your cousin is away, so this leaves you with your neighbor, who happens to be your childhood best friend.

It’s when you open the window that gives you sight to his house and scream out his name.

Aemond, who’s been busy reading a book, chuckles quietly when hearing you calling him a note above the heavy metal sound he’s been listening.

“Hey, girl”, he leans over the window. “What’s up? Listening to rock’n’roll today? I always figured you’d prefer classical music.”

You pull a grimace.

“What do you know of my musical tastes, Aemond Targaryen?”

He laughs quietly. It’s been a while since someone made him laugh like this.

“Well, hit me, baby. What do you want for me?”

“Have you dinned yet?”

“Nope. You?”

“I was about to cook some hamburgers. Do you want any?”

Aemond side smirks at you.

“I’ll be there in five.”

*

And here he is, eating with you late Tuesday night. Aemond soon knows about your college short break, how you are preparing for your last semester and your expectations for your graduation.

“Enough about me”, you say as you open two beers. “What have you been up to?”

“I have nothing interesting to say”, he shrugs his shoulders.

In truth, he is not willing to share the dark path he’s taken. Involved with the gang of his Hightower cousins, coercing those who owe Gerold some money, and doing other business on behalf of Aegon, he now believes to be a loser when compared to you.

“I doubt that”, you poke him. “Come now… What has your father forced you to do now?”

Mr Viserys is the main man behind the Targaryen Org., an advocacy office that has been working in politics behind the scenes and that has produced a few presidents of Westeros, the most recent of them being his daughter, Rhaenyra.

He expects his children to follow the same path, and that is why he and his sons—Aemond and Aegon, particularly—never really enjoyed a good and stable relationship. To worse it all, Mrs Alicent, his second wife, is facing a crisis in their marriage.

Aware of this background, you know how all of these quarreling have produced deep scars on Aemond.

“You should be whoever you want to be, you know”, so you say, holding his hand. “The world is yours if you so wish, Aemond.”

Reclining against the chair, he says nothing for a while, appreciating the song, the beer and… when looking at you, your company.

“You are too good for me, Y/N”, he murmurs, before taking a sip.

***

But she wears short skirts. I wear T-shirts. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time…

You are coming back from jogging when you see her for the very first time. Taller than you, more gracious, prettier and sensual in the way she walks, Alys Rivers is dressing short skirts and a white top that reinforces her curves.

You feel embarrassed, not to say envious, when looking at what you are wearing by comparison. Blue t-shirts and black pants, your college hat and the same cute ponytail.

Insecurity hits hard and you hate yourself for it. But truth is, one is never too old to be hit by intern instability.

You also notice Aemond is having a wild barbecue at his household. At first you are hurt for not being invited, but when carefully noticing who is there, you realize it’s better for you not to get yourself involved in this kind of matter.

Exhibited like a trophy is his girlfriend, surrounded by Aemond’s Hightower cousins. You are not entirely ignorant of their illicit activities and considering Aemond’s rebellious nature, it does not shock you those are his new friends. It is more disappointing to feel overshadowed by that woman.

In the midst of this noise, Aemond feels the weight of your gaze. There is so much to be said. This is not the barbecue he wanted to do, he’s never been a lousy man, rather being introspective.

But one miscommunication, and you go back inside, heading to the shower as you carry disappointment with you.

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me…

It’s been two weeks. What was meant to be a surprisingly good reunion with your childhood best friend is proving to be another heartbreak you thought you’d not have to face since Jacaerys Velaryon cheated on you with his own cousin.

You opt to open a beer and throw yourself in the couch, watch some Netflix cliche, refusing to voice out your inner frustrations. What the fuck were you thinking again? Projecting romance to your life like you are the protagonist of some Christmas movie is old news.

It’s when a knock on the door scares you. Who might be in this hour?

Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs. And you tell me 'bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong. Think I know it's with me.

“Hey”, you are surprised to meet him.

Aemond is dressed in his old jeans and a white blouse. He stands before you not with the happiest faces.

“Come here, darling”, you welcome him with opened arms. “What the hell happened now?”

He is silent like always, but promptly accepts your embrace. Only then, carried to your couch, he slides to your side and takes your beer.

“I fucked shit up, Y/N.” He avoids your merciful and comprehensive gaze.

“I doubt it. But what you have done now? And where’s your girlfriend?”

“We had a fight”, Aemond rolls his eyes, sinking in the couch. You realize he’s still drinking of your beer, but you don’t mind it. “She’s very possessive. I was talking to Helaena… My own sister, and she keeps being demanding.”

Then he looks at you, expecting some answer. It takes you by surprise, though, when he changes topics abruptly by saying:

“Why did you have to go?”

“Uh?”, you barely flutter your eyelashes at it. “What are you talking about?”

“You moved out 12 years ago to High Garden”, and here comes the subtle resentment.

You take his hand and play with fingers, head resting on the back of the couch as you and him lock gazes.

“I had no choice upon the matter. I was transferred to another school because of my father. You remember that.”

“You never sent me an email.”

“Neither did you.”

For a moment there is silence hanging between you. And then Aemond says:

“I’ve heard you dated that Jacaerys lad.”

You scoff.

“How’d you know that?”

“He is my fucking nephew”, and for some strange reason this makes you two laugh. “I’m sorry about how things ended for you two. Harwin was pretty excited for having you as his probable daughter-in-law.”

“You don’t like this idea very much”, you smile at his subtle jealousy. “Something which we know wouldn’t work out well.”

Aemond’s eyes move to his hand intertwined with yours. A view that warms his heart.

“What happened?”

You opt to drink beer instead of responding him. As he studies you, Aemond spots some hurt behind your y/c eyes.

“He didn’t…”, Aemond cannot consider this option. Even so, the mere idea angers him. “Did he?! What a fucking asshole!”

To your surprise, he’s the one to hug you.

“I’m sorry, Y/Nickname. You deserve better.”

You sigh heavily, resting your head against his shoulder. For a moment, it feels like you are teenagers again and it’s you and him against the world.

“It’s all right. It’s in the past now.”

The rest of the evening is spent in between sweet talks, beers here and there. Until all breaks with a call.

“Ugh”, Aemond grumbles. “It’s her.”

As if you are reminded that this bad boy prince is nothing but a long time rebellious friend, you set your heart at easy with the crude dose of reality.

“You should better get going”, you help him stand. “After all, you have a girl waiting for you.”

Aemond rolls his eyes.

“I don’t like how this sounds.”

An intense stare.

“Am I lying, Targaryen?”

He laughs quietly.

“No, Y/LN. I hate you for it.”

For now you two follow separate ways. For now.

***

The more time Aemond spends with you, the more drawn he is to light. Whenever he’s with you, he can talk about his dreams—he wants to have an independent career, nothing related to law or politics, perhaps something related to humanities—, he is allowed to have hopes and become a better person. All of this is possible when he’s with you.

But now… far from his family and emerged in this bitter darkness that his temperamental cousins and his girlfriend aligned with his dark desires, he’s realized how wronged he’d been.

He is broken, he knows it.

“Where have you been?!”, she calls him out. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

And he decides he’s the author of his life. He let others broke him, but that’s enough for him.

When looking at Alys, Aemond knows now how he belongs with you. He just hopes it’s not too late to make it right.

“I owe you no explanations of what I do, or wherever I go. And you know what, Alys? I’m tired of this life. Just… go away.”

She wants to argue, but he doesn’t have any patience for it. The door is open and Aemond makes it clear with his deadly silent moves. He’s a winner now.

“Fine. But you’ll regret it.”

Empty words that the wind takes away after he closes the door. As he looks at the phone, he knows he needs to call the other woman whom he should have never hurt in first place.

His mother.

***

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor. All this time how could you not know, baby?

You are preparing to leave to your college when he crosses your path.

“Hey. Where the fuck are you going to?!”, Aemond asks you, paled when realizing that he, in fact, might be a little late.

“I told you I’ve only had a few weeks here, A. I’m going back to college”, you side smirk. “What’s that face? Why are you looking so serious?”

He swallows his pride and then takes your hands in his, clasping them together.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You swear you are about to faint. And maybe your sudden paling makes sure Aemond is holding you tight.

“Don’t pass out, woman”, he chuckles lightly, though you spot concern in his eyes. “I mean it.”

“B-But Aemond”, you say, struggling to understand. “I am going back to college for my final semester and I thought you were in a relationship?”

Cupping your face with his hands, he turns at you with the sweetest smile you’d ever seen, saying:

“That should not be a problem. I’m on my way to be with you. I shall rent an apartment there and work at my father’s company all the whilst I start to study history. I’m getting my shit together, Y/N, and have all this to thank you for. As for my relationship, I broke up with her. Can’t you see I’m doing all of this for you?”

“Oh Aemond!”, you sigh in content before leaning to kiss his lips.

He smiles in secrecy as his hands slide firmly on your waist firmly, kissing you in return. It is as it should be. He belongs with you, after all.

***

• Epilogue.

Twelve months later…

“What are you reading today, my dear?”, you recline back in your chair and turn your head to look at him, heart melting before the sight of him all concentrated.

Lowering down his book, Aemond smiles quietly at you.

“The history of Westeros through the chroniclers. Quite an interesting reading”. He puts the book aside and pats a seat next to him at the large bed he’s in.

You leave your computer there and happily complies, soon adjusting to his arm, smiling as he plays with your ponytail.

“How’s work today?”, he asks you, in turn.

It’s winter and it’s snowing, but you’ve managed to work from home. A good excuse to be around your betrothed—oh yes, he proposed you recently, about six months after you two moved in together.

“Not very demanding today, thankfully”, you turn at him and smile fondly, caressing his cheek. “Your mother wants to spend Christmas with us.”

Your rogue prince, despite cutting his hair and dressing better, straightening his path, remains temperamental when it comes to his family. He rolls his eyes, before sighing.

“Really now? What did you say?”

You bury your head against his chest all the whilst Aemond wraps you around his arms, throwing blanket over you two.

“I told her to come. I think we might expect everyone, really. I hear she’s in good terms with Rhaenyra too.” Apparently, the two had had a bad fight last autumn.

“Oh no”, he groans.

“Look at the bright side, Leana, Aegon and Daeron are coming as well.”

“This apartment isn’t big enough for all of them, my darling”.

You raise your eyes to meet his. He’s so adorable wearing glasses, you thought.

“It is, it is. I’ll make sure everything is going to be perfect”, you smile warmly.

Aemond smiles back at you.

“Damn, I cannot say no to you. Fine, do your best. And since we are welcoming this big dysfunctional family of mine, how about inviting yours too?”

You tilt your head, smiling.

“Really?”

He scoffs.

“Of course, silly head.”

You lean to kiss his lips.

“I love how Christmas man you’ve become, sweet Aemond.”

He chuckles quietly.

“That’s only because you’ve made me one, darling.”

Leaving aside his book and glasses, he leans to kiss you deeply and you return it passionately. This afternoon is surely going to be warmer than expected…

[crystalkleure]

I’m pretty sure I have DID.

And that’s not something I would try to self-diagnose with lightly.

I had a trash childhood. My mother completely isolated me from a young age, beat me, said vile things to me, and continuously found some frankly very creative ways to torture me just whenever she was in a bad mood about anything at all. I don’t want to get into the gory details of that because 1. I don’t remember it all all the time, 2. it was extremely gruesome and would be upsetting both for me writing it and probably for other people reading it, and 3. that woman did so much fucking shockingly horrible shit to me that we would be here all day if I tried to list it all out [if I even could, which I can’t]. Severe abuse was an every day, multiple times a day occurrence, for as long as I can remember. For most of my childhood, I was never not bruised.

And I’ve had so much, just...damn weird shit happen to me in my life that I could never quite fully explain before. Every explanation I settled on to rationalize the weird shit away never actually 100% fit right, I just didn’t have any better ideas about what the fuck was going on. I didn’t know what a dissociative disorder was.

Hearing voices, for one. Uh, sort of, at least. Not literally “hearing” in the auditory hallucinations sort of way, it was more like...thoughts in my head that I wasn’t putting there and couldn’t make stop? And they were usually just minding their own damn business, thinking a perfectly coherent line of thought about one thing while I was trying to think about another thing/do a different task, interrupting my damn train of thought and being annoying, but some of them [especially one in particular] did actually “speak” [more like “think at”] directly to me. Sometimes just to bitch about “hey I wanna be doing that other thing but you’re doing this thing, stupid body isn’t moving how I want it to wtf, hey, hey, hey, goddammit I wanna do the other thing c’mon man” but also often just making random uninvited remarks about shit I was doing. Nothing particularly bad, just kind of gleefully bothersome? A very consistent personality attached to this voice in particular. [Though, in hindsight, the ones that DIDN’T speak directly to me {at least until recently} were consistent as well, I just paid less attention to them, because this particular one was Extra Obnoxious As Fuck, and also...]

Now, when these “voices” were not Addressing Me Directly, I just wrote them off as my attention span sucking ass and my thoughts just wandering no matter how damn hard I tried to stay 100% on-task, I just thought my brain was extra noisy, Had A Whole Lot Of Thoughts In My Head, Very Loud In There Sometimes, and didn’t really know what else to make of that. Wondered sometimes if maybe it was ADHD, but the other symptoms of that really just didn’t seem to fit. But as soon as That One Guy started Actually Talking TO Me [around age 12 iirc]? I thought “Oh. It seems I have been tortured so badly for so long that I have finally just snapped and gone crazy. I have Voices In My Head, Talking To Me. That must be that schizophrenia thing like from the movies. Well, at least the voices aren’t REAL, even if they’re annoying, so they won’t have any power over me if I just don’t listen to them! I’ll just ignore them and not ever tell anybody, I don’t want to be thrown in the looney bin, I’m sure I can function. I’m fine. I just won’t listen.” [Spoiler alert: The voice apparently WAS real because the voice was apparently an alter, and ignoring him did NOT make him Not Actually Exist, because He Is An Actual Separately-Conscious Part Of My Brain, Not A Figment Of My Imagination. lol. He was very much capable of Controlling My Body sometimes, I just never realized that’s what was going on because 1. he shut up Thinking At Me for the most part while doing that since he was preoccupied with Driving The Body now, and 2...]

I also, for the longest time, just thought I had a REALLY goddamn amazing “autopilot system.” I noticed I could be totally “zoned-out,” “retreated into my head,” putting NO effort into moving my body or saying anything out loud at ALL, and yet my body would continue doing tasks and holding perfectly coherent conversations with people. Even while I was just, like...not actively telling it to. Like I was not intentionally making myself do the things I was doing, and was not even able to predict exactly how Doing The Task would go, or what specifically I would say in the conversation next. It just happened and was perfectly satisfactory. I genuinely just thought I was “on autopilot” and my autopilot was just really fucking awesome.

So, hearing voices? Damn, guess I’m just crazy and hallucinating now, better ignore it and remember it’s not real. Body doing things I’m not specifically willing it to, or specifically predicting it will? Dope fucking autopilot system, look at me Doing Tasks and Holding Conversations without even TRYING, totally sweet. Sometimes during an “autopilot” episode I’ll notice myself talking/emoting like [insert character I’m really attached to], and can’t will myself to Not do that during those times? I’m definitely autistic, that’s gotta just be mirroring [Nope! I do mirror, too. Distinct difference that I can see now -- I am CAPABLE of forcing myself to stop mirroring if I notice myself doing it. Can’t force an alter to Not Talk/Move Like That, though]. Shit memory? Must have been that nothing particularly important happened during that period of time [nevermind concerning evidence to the contrary ig]. Headaches that coincide with “autopilot” episodes so frequently? Well, 1. if the reason I’m stuck in Daydreamsville instead of Putting Effort Into Doing Things Externally is because something Very Stressful just happened and I’m desperately trying to not think about it [lol literally dissociating] then that makes sense bc stress causes headaches, and I am DEFINITELY super prone to stress headaches [lol. lmao. Gee.] or 2. perhaps the headache is the reason I can’t focus in the first place. Posting things that I don’t remember posting, typed in a way that REALLY doesn’t feel like “me” [this is why I’m constantly rephrasing shit like my bios/carrd/etc. all the goddamn time]? Guess I was just in a weird mood and also...not really paying attention or something. Frequently can’t FORCE my fucking body to do something I REALLY WANT TO DO, I just keep watching goddamn YouTube videos or something that I don’t even really care about, wtf? Well, I know I’ve got Depression real bad, so...executive dysfunction ig, or task inertia [nevermind that I much MORE frequently have NO problem changing tasks, even changing tasks into an activity I DON’T want to do, like an annoying chore]...?

So there’s a ton of shit that I just rationalized away as Various Other Things; switching was “autopilot,” switch/split headaches [I can figure out that’s what a TON of those were based on the timing of them and also the lack of other apparent causes for them in hindsight] were “stress headaches,” funny accents I absolutely couldn’t Not Do sometimes [and, lol, I ALSO couldn’t do them INTENTIONALLY, they ONLY properly happened during those instances I was unable to control, I couldn’t ever get them quite right when trying to do them On Purpose] must have just been weirdly hardcore mirroring or vocal stimming, etc.

But there’s always been a handful of experiences I’ve had that I absolutely could not explain. I just tried not to think about them because it disturbed me that I could not produce any rational explanation for them. In hindsight, these things were fits of fucking blackout amnesia.

One time, when I was pretty young [probably older than 10 but not by much...?], I had to endure the longass car ride to my grandparents’ house for the millionth time. And that was always a suckass experience, my mom was driving which meant I was trapped in that goddamn car with her for hours of Nonstop Verbal Abuse, but this time my sister was riding with us, too. Our mother has always done atrocious things to her as well. She was extra pissed at mom that day, so they started fighting pretty much immediately. I remember sitting in the backseat, staring at the back of the drivers’ seat in front of me, just focusing REALLY hard on the fabric of the seat, trying to drown out/ignore the Extreme Terrifying Loudness in the car around me, thinking over and over to myself “I wish this ride were over, I wish this ride were over already, I wish we were there, I wish we would just hurry up and get there...” and then...my sister was lightly tapping me on the shoulder. “Hey, we’re here.” I notice the lighting is entirely different; the sun has fucking set. But it was still broad daylight just a split fucking second ago. And we are indeed parked in my grandparents’ driveway, mom and sis are getting out of the car Right Now. What the fuck. I tried to convince myself that I had fallen asleep, but I knew I hadn’t. My eyes were open. My body was completely upright, muscles currently very much fully in use to keep it that way. Not even leaning back in the seat. It was like I had just fucking time-warped, I didn’t even feel like I had blinked. I was so sure my eyes had never even goddamn closed! It wasn’t even a split second, it was fucking instantaneous!

Another time, a few years later, I was playing with a bug I found marching across my bed. Not, like, hurting it or anything, I was being very gentle. I like bugs. I Very Very Carefully And Slowly reached out with just the very tip of my finger, intending to get the bug to turn in another direction, and as soon as the very edge of my nail touched it...poof. The bug was fucking GONE. Like, instantly, just fuckoff teleported. I assumed [and continued to assume] that it must have just jumped, even though it was very slow-moving and I hadn’t seen it tense up at all, but, on closer inspection...the light coming in the window was a slightly different colour now. The bedclothes were rumpled differently now. All instantaneously, just in a flash [without an actual flash of light or anything ofc]. It was like a timeskip again, but this time only a couple of minutes or so rather than hours. And also I felt weird, there was suddenly like...adrenaline in me, like I had just been spooked, BEFORE I had even realized the Weird Time Jump Thing had even happened. [Best I can figure, in hindsight, is that a headmate of mine switched in and was afraid of the bug, and killed it or swatted it away or something -- the bed being struck would explain the suddenly-different rumpling of the duvet. Maybe the bug bit them or something, but my finger didn’t hurt.]

And THEN, just a handful of years ago actually, oh this one frustrated me so bad lmfao...I had an issue where I would set my alarm clock, but I would apparently sleep right through it. No memory of waking up at all. But I could see that the “alarm set” switch on the back had been flipped to the “off” position to make the alarm stop, so I must have woken up enough to turn the damn beeper off and then fallen back asleep [nevermind that I normally always remember waking up even for a moment, I’m a pretty light sleeper]. Okay. Clearly I needed to Fully Wake All The Way Up in order to turn off my alarm, to prevent myself from just rolling over and going back to sleep. I took the clock off my nightstand and moved that bitch into ALL SORTS of places. I set up fucking low-key PUZZLES for myself that I would have to complete before I could make the beeping stop. I would have to get out of bed entirely, navigate through some dumb part of my room, and strain to Retrieve The Clock to then turn it off. No way would I not wake up enough to remember doing that, right? lol. Several times, that STILL didn’t fucking work. I would still wake up HOURS after the damn alarm was set to go off, and it was clear that I HAD gotten up out of bed and done the dumb bullshit. Clock alarm switch was turned off, clock was sitting somewhere different. I woke up in a completely different position that I had fallen asleep in, when I normally don’t toss and turn that much in my sleep. Yep, obviously got the fuck up COMPLETELY and then went back to bed?? Come on. And I didn’t remember any of it, fucking at all! [Apparently I have either 1. a spiteful headmate who does not like to be woken up and knew exactly what they were doing when they shut that clock off and went back to fucking bed, or 2. a headmate who did not REMEMBER why there was an alarm set, assumed “Huh, guess I was just trying to fix my sleep schedule, bleh, mind changed, not worth it” or something, and went back to bed after shrugging and deciding there was no really good reason NOT to go back to bed bc of No Memory Of The Task We Were Supposed To Do Upon Awakening.]

And even now, now that I’m actively wondering about how much amnesia I experience...I notice, when I’m standing in front of the microwave, that the timer jumps down so much faster than it seems like it should have sometimes. I notice all the little instances of people telling me about Things That Happened that I apparently Witnessed WITH Them, but that I just...have no memory of whatsoever. [What do you mean there was a stray siamese tom cat hanging around our house for a few months several years ago?? Huh???] It’s...distressing, actually, to now be aware of the fact that I don’t remember so much shit. Even shit that I know I would have enjoyed. Read the tags on {this post}. This is what I was talking about there.

It’s a little funny, how I finally figured out what was going on. It was more than a year ago but less than two, I think. See, I made a friend who has DID. It seemed to cause distress to him sometimes, so I wanted to know how I could Be A Good Friend to someone with that problem; I wanted to at least vaguely understand what he meant when he talked about his experiences with it, and I wanted to make sure that I could accommodate it thoughtfully. You know, like how you’d wanna know how you could help someone with a migraine by dimming the lights and keeping the noise levels down, if possible. So I looked up DID. Very Thoroughly Read Through a ton of Science Papers and Personal Experience Stories about it, made sure my information was as good and accurate as possible. I was initially just On A Mission To Be A Good Friend! [Psychology is also a long-standing major special interest of mine, so all the little details were also Highly Intriguing to me, which compelled me to Read Even More About This Disorder I Had Never Heard About Before Outside Of “Multiple Personality Disorder” In The Movies {which, it turns out, is often a Deeply Inaccurate Depiction of the thing! Hollywood is Super Egregiously Unrealistic, damn who would’ve thought huh lmfao}]

But then I started to realize that, for the first time in my life, I had just found something that fully explained all of my Previously Unexplainable [Or Badly-Explained-Away] Weird Fucking Bullshit perfectly. This disorder fit like a fucking glove when nothing else ever had. And I was exactly the kind of person who was at an extremely high risk of developing it, I had the exact right kind of Inescapably Repeatedly Traumatic Trash Childhood. I even checked out a bunch of different things that could be easily confused with DID [Borderline Personality Disorder, Schizoaffective Disorder, Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder...] and none of them fit fully the way DID so effortlessly did. [Except maybe MaDD. I actually might have that. Probably, even. I’ve heard it’s comorbid with DID/OSDD a lot. It alone just failed to explain too much that DID covered perfectly.]

And it was, uh, terrifying.

This is a very highly stigmatized disorder with no cure. My brain is going to be like this forever and people are going to be terrified of me and think that I am dangerous because of all the shit misconceptions about how ~multiple personality disorder~ [don’t call it that, outdated inaccurate term with Not Great connotations] works. They’re going to assume there must be at least one Uncontrollable Evil Serial Killer Personality in there somewhere and there’s just not. We are literally all just guys. With C-PTSD, but. Literally none of us are any more dangerous than someone with C-PTSD who has their OWN body that ISN’T shared with a bunch of other guys. I’ve stopped trying to ignore The Voices™ now that I know they aren’t just Not Real/Hallucinations, I’ve communicated with several of these guys. Pretty extensively. None of them are even assholes. Some of them might not have very pretty coping mechanisms but I wouldn’t say any of these guys are bad or even unreasonable, and especially not dangerous to anyone except maybe sometimes themselves. Please don’t be terrified of them? They’re good guys. I like these guys. [You’ve literally even already met most if not all of these guys because they’ve been here the whole time. We share this body and therefore this blog lol.]

And in fact, actually, realizing what was wrong with me was SO fucking terrifying that I didn’t tell anyone I even suspected it for months. Months that I spent reading even MORE closely and thoroughly about DID/OSDD, looking desperately for a way to logically rationalize that I DIDN’T have this disorder, and not finding any way out of it. Damn near every single little goddamn thing I learned about it fit my own experiences just more and more perfectly.

So I just sat there fucking agonizing over what I was going to do with this Newfound Terrifying Knowledge, what the fuck was I going to say to people, are my friends going to be fucking afraid of me now or at the very least are they going to feel awkward and weirded-out, I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable around me, what if someone I care about reacts badly to this, etcetera. There was this HUGE amount of fucking fear and shame just fucking crushing me, for months [which is itself apparently The Most Common Way People React To Learning They Even MIGHT Have DID/OSDD. Hm.]

And you remember that Loud guy from before? The one who had Talked Directly TO Me In My Head for so long? The one who was never shy about Annoying Me Until I Made The Body Do The Thing He Wanted It To Do, the one that has always had fun bothering me [but is not malicious -- only playful]? That guy? Me worrying about this So Much for So Long eventually culminated in him saying “Oh, fuck it. Just spit it out already.” and forcibly taking control of the body to do exactly that. He informed our close friends that he was pretty sure we have some sort of dissociative disorder, pretty bluntly, a little awkwardly. He just got it over with so I would stop freaking out worrying about how to say it. And he was perfectly friendly, not rude to them, he didn’t do anything wrong at all -- I’m actually thankful he handled that for me now, he was indeed doing me a favour and I am grateful for it, but at the time it was happening...it was, once again, fucking terrifying. And it was surreal. I watched him do it, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I got shoved back into my own head, watching from behind my own eyes, as he made the body type out and send those messages. I was like...beating on the inside of my own brain, screaming at that guy to STOP THAT, OH MY GOD, THIS ISN’T HOW I WANTED TO HANDLE THIS NO NO NO NO, but was completely out of control of my own fucking limbs. I just watched. And then it finally irrefutably clicked that “autopilot” was definitely not just “autopilot,” because this is exactly what my “autopilot” always was. This was the exact same sensation. The only difference is now I was watching my body do something I DIDN’T WANT IT TO DO, not just something I Did Want To Do or at the very least Didn’t Mind Doing. It doesn’t matter if I fight it or not, I am not in control. [I finally did end up wrestling Control Of The Body back away from him, but only after he had gotten those messages spit out. In other words, after he was done with the task he was hellbent on doing, so he wasn’t holding onto the metaphorical steering wheel quite so hard anymore. Let his mental guard down a little.]

That event actually did make me finally Fully Trust that guy though, funny enough. He knew what he was doing, he knew it had to happen, he handled a hard situation for me. I like him a lot. He’s a fun guy and he’s got my back. I’m okay with him being Stuck In My Brain Forever, finally. Sorry I spent so many years “La la la, I’m not listening to you, you’re not real”-ing you, man.

Hm. This post is getting way too long. So, there’s that. That’s a thing. It took me a damn year+ to spit the thing out in public, but there it is. It feels kind of good to finally get the thing fully off my chest.

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (12)

   jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: jealous & possessive!jungkook vs. reader who won’t take his shit

words: 8.8k (whoops)

    chapter twelve

Your roommate refused to hide her surprise when you told her you were going to the Parental Advisory party with Jungkook. She couldn’t come with the two of you because she was going to visit her parents this weekend, but the disappointment of missing the party did not overshadow her excitement about you going there with Jungkook.

“Don’t blow this out of proportion,” you pleaded – for the three-hundredth time that evening – unable to relate to her joy. “We won’t be there long, so it doesn’t—”

“It’s your first public date,” Inna spoke—very ceremoniously—as she dug around your closet, convinced that her duty as your roommate was to choose an outfit for you, even if she was the only person – aside from you and Jungkook – who knew that this was all pretend. “Everyone will have their jaws on the floor when they see you arrive together anyway, but a good outfit might just make you feel less self-conscious.”

You had many objections but, knowing that Inna was running short on time before her bus arrived, you chose to only argue about the things that you could have changed her mind about.

“I don’t think it matters what I wear,” you said, your arms crossed over your chest as you watched the several pairs of tights and sweatpants fly out of the closet in reckless abandon as Inna looked for a gold mine. “I’m going to be uncomfortable anyway.”

You couldn’t see her when she had her head in the pile of your clothes, but her voice made the smirk on her lips obvious, “I’m sure he will find a way to make you feel more comfortable there.”

“We’ll only stay there for a little bit,” you said. “We were supposed to return here later. Although, I’m not sure if that’s still happening.”

“Oh!” Inna jumped up, momentarily forgetting about her stylist career. She wasn’t just smirking anymore, she was full-on grinning now, teeth and all. “So, you’ll be coming back to your place later? That calls for a whole different outfit.”

You didn’t realize what she was implying right away.

“We—what do you—oh,” you said, her words hitting you with a wave of hotness that forced your hands to guard your flushed face from her. “Inna, no. You know I don’t like those parties, we just agreed to go there for a little bit, and then watch a movie or something back here.”

“Right, of course,” she nodded and you thought she was relenting but, really, you should have known better as she teased, “that’s why they call it Netflix and Chill, babe.”

“I know you can’t see my eyes,” you said, your hands still on your face, “but I’m glaring at you right now.”

“Here,” she said, picking up a black off-the-shoulder blouse and a velvet burgundy mini skirt – you’d bought them both when you and Inna had lunch at the mall on your first weekend on campus and you hadn’t worn the outfit once – and tossing it for you right as you peeked at her through the gaps between your fingers. The blouse hit you in the chest but you caught it before it fell to the floor. “Now is the perfect time to wear this.”

She didn’t hide the offense in her voice – she was the one who had picked the skirt out for you – as she was evidently still bitter that you’d never even tried it on, aside from that one time in the changing room.

“I thought I’d just go in a sweater,” you said – which was very bold, considering that Inna looked ready to tackle you for wasting her time – and then lamely tried to explain your reasoning, “it’s chilly today.”

“You’ll wear that,” she ordered with an aggressive nod at the clothes in your hands, “and if you’re cold, you’ll ask Jungkook for his jacket.”

“What if he doesn’t wear a jacket?”

“Then you’ll ask for his shirt,” she said and smiled at her own impressive wit. “A win-win situation, really.”

You were going to protest again and Inna knew it, too, so, before you could even open your mouth, she closed the door of your closet – as much as the haphazardly thrown clothes allowed it to close – and stood facing you, her arms crossed and legs parted in a threatening manner.

“Put it on,” she demanded. “I will not leave until I know you’re going to that party in something that’s not sweats. If I miss my bus, it’s on you.”

Inna did not miss her bus – but barely, as she jumped around your dorm for ten minutes straight, in awe over how perfectly the skirt she’d picked out fit you and how “fascinating” (that one’s a direct quote) it made your legs look – and, then, before you knew it, you were waiting for Jungkook to come pick you up all by yourself.

You felt nervous. Granted, you’d felt somewhat worried the whole day today – which wasn’t very unusual, you liked to get your worrying started in advance – but, with Inna here, you’d held yourself together. Now your hands shook—trembled, really—as you sprayed some perfume on your wrists before rubbing them together.

Many things about tonight bothered you: you didn’t want to put up an act for half of the campus – especially not for the people who cared about Jungkook so much, they screeched and ran in the opposite direction when he crashed his car – and you also didn’t want to have to deal with whatever consequences the combination of alcohol and Jungkook would bring.

The first time you saw him drunk, he drove into a pole. The second time – he went home with a different girl, nevermind that he may have been looking for you. You were afraid that the third time could have been the charm – one last hurrah before something finally put an end to your friendship.

But most of all, you were afraid of you and him being there together, because your last conversation hadn’t exactly gone smoothly and now you didn’t know what to expect.

At first, you were almost looking forward to tonight as much as Inna was, especially since Jungkook was ready to leave the party early so you could spend some time together in a place where you felt more comfortable. But then he seemed to take all of his words back with one single phrase.

The only thing that “really mattered” about you and him, was that his parents believed you were together.

You always considered the worst case scenarios – just to prepare yourself – but they seemed limitless tonight as you weren’t sure what to make of his words and which side of him to prepare for: the side that did want to spend time with you and wasn’t afraid to say so, or the other side.

But you wouldn’t have had the time to prepare for tonight even if you did know what to expect; Jungkook -- and all of his sides -- was already here.

When the knock came, you needed at least half a minute to calm your breathing before you finally felt collected enough to open the door.

“Hey,” Jungkook said as soon as he heard the lock turn, sounding out of breath as if he’d ran all the way up the stairs. “Your RA—not a very nice guy—didn’t want me to come in—had to—”

“You ran away from him?” you asked, opening the door properly so he could come inside before the RA came running after him. However, with the door fully open, your outfit was suddenly in full-view for Jungkook and he froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“I—oh, you look really, uh, g-great,” he said, lifting his eyes back to your face – as if to check if this was really you – before sliding them down your body again in a way that you’ve never seen him do before. It didn’t mean that he’d never checked you out before – because, oh, he had – you were just never aware of it. “The dark colors go really well with—well, everything.”

“Thanks,” you said, crossing your arms as you moved to a side. You wanted to give him a compliment in return but could not find the words because the black cargo pants and the ripped jean jacket he’d worn tonight was not much different from any other outfit he’d worn before, and yet, you still hard a hard time looking away. “Come in while I grab my bag.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course,” he slipped inside, eyes still on you – his feet tripping over the threshold just slightly – as he closed the door after himself.

You walked over to your bed to grab your phone with the intention of putting it in the handbag that you had thrown over the open door of your bedroom. But when you turned around, phone in hand, Jungkook was standing right in front of you and your nose almost smashed right into his chest.

“Oh,” you blinked, the close proximity nearly throwing you off balance and Jungkook’s hands were already reaching for your waist to steady you on your feet.

You swore you would have suffocated if he’d touched you right then but he realized he’d entered your personal space as soon as he felt your shaky breath wash off on his own face.

In his defense, he’d only walked so near because the smell of your perfume pulled him in – he didn’t mean to cross any boundaries – but, standing so close, he could see the alarm in your eyes. Clearing his throat, he took a step back and gave you an encouraging smile as you slowly walked past him.

He tried not to think of the expression on your face – wary, yet expectant – when you saw how close he was, but he was glad you lingered by the door as you checked the contents of your bag.

“Ready to go?” he asked as soon as you clicked the lock on the handbag and turned around.

You were not ready to go because even though he stood several feet away from you now, his presence still lingered all around you and you could still smell his cologne. You could almost taste the mint strawberry gum he always kept in his car.

Your head was swimming with the feeling of him.

You’d been afraid of tonight and yet you hadn’t realized just how challenging it was really going to be.

“Yeah, we can go,” you said, not pausing to give him a look as you opened the door and waited for him to follow you out of the room. “If the RA hasn’t called the police yet.”

“Ah, shit. He’d do that?” Jungkook asked, more curious than worried about getting fined for being here without an entrance pass – he couldn’t really bring himself to care because it all seemed worth it.

You stopped in the hallway as you closed the door. Surprisingly, your hands had stopped shaking – it was your heart that was restless now.

“He’s done it before,” you said, fumbling with the lock. “But, in that case, we had a squatter and he’d just discovered her three months after she moved in, so he was understandably angry.”

“Well, I haven’t moved in yet,” Jungkook said carelessly, not realizing how your heart decided to skip a beat at the word yet. “And, not to mention, I’ve been here before and he’s never stopped me from coming up.”

“He would have if he knew how much time you wasted sitting in this hallway,” you said, double-checking if the door was really locked and then joining him on the way to the elevator.

Jungkook stuffed his hands into his pockets after he pressed the elevator button.

“I didn’t waste time,” he said. “I was waiting for you.”

The elevator door opened. Your chest did too as your heart rose to your throat.

“I-I mean, you could have waited at home,” you said, walking into the cabin before him and leaning against the mirror. The mixed signals he was sending you made you dizzy.

“You weren’t answering my calls,” he reminded you, pressing the ‘L’ on the dashboard and sheepishly glancing at your reflection. “And, in any case, doesn’t he know who I am?”

You raised your eyebrows at the arrogant expression on his face. Jungkook noticed your look but proceeded anyway.

“No one else has this problem,” he said, “I’m welcome everywhere.”

“You’re making tonight very difficult for me,” you told him.

“What? I’m not trying to show off,” he said, showing off. “I’m just saying.”

You chose not to play his game anymore as you shook your head and hypothesized, “maybe he’s just worried about how often he sees you here. I can talk to him.”

“Good. Because he’s going to have to get used to the blessing that is me,” Jungkook said, extending a hand for you when the two of you stepped out of the elevator in the lobby, the RA nowhere in sight, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You weren’t certain what he expected you to do – surely he didn’t mean for you to hold his hand right now, before you even got to the party? – so you watched his palm for several moments, involuntarily tracing the branches on it with your eyes.

“Well, come on,” he encouraged, taking your hand himself when it became clear that you weren’t going to do anything. “I parked my car out front. And before you say anything – yes, I do know that parking here is for residents only. If anyone asks, I live here.”

“I—” your mind was still listening to him say he wasn’t going anywhere, so it took you a few moments to find your next words and, in that time, Jungkook had already guided you out of the lobby and into the crisp evening.

“I’m pretty sure everyone knows where you live,” you said.

A smirk appeared on his lips but, this time, Jungkook chose not to gloat (too much) about the fact that he was a Parental Advisory member.

“Not your RA,” he countered instead, pressing a button on his car key. A pleasant click informed you that the car had unlocked. “He looked like he’s never listened to anything that’s not Verdi.”

“He actually plays a lot of Liszt in our second-floor lounge room,” you said. “There’s a piano there.”

“That just proves my point, if anything,” Jungkook stopped in front of his car and opened the passenger door for you, casually leaning against the vehicle while he waited for you to climb inside – it was almost unbelievable how easily he managed to act like all was normal.

In all truth, Jungkook found his laid-back attitude hard to believe as well because, inside of his chest, there were hundreds of explosions happening – thousands, actually, when the evening breeze lifted your skirt higher up your thighs – and only half of them were caused by the way you looked tonight. The other half were the result of holding your hand.

“Alright,” he said after having circled the car to enter it through the driver’s side. “Keep me updated on your mood so I know when you want to go home, yeah?”

“I—” you started to say, wanting to let him know that he didn’t have to worry about taking you home, but Jungkook beat you to it.

“If you say you want to go right now, I swear—”

“No, I was just—well, actually…” you looked at him with glitter in your eyes – and if you’d really meant it, he would have taken you home right then and there – and a teasing smile. “No, I was going to say that I don’t want you to feel pressured to leave with me. I promise to stay for a little bit, but you can stay for however long you—”

“I only want to stay for as long as you’re staying,” he said and you thanked the God that the sound of the car engine coming to life drowned out the loud beats of your heart. “We agreed to get back to your place and hang out there, didn’t we?”

“We did. But then—”

“Did you change your mind?” he asked with a quick glance at you before he turned to the rear-view mirror to back out of the parking lot. “Do you not want to spend time with me anymore?”

It was absurd that he was the one asking you this.

“I do want to spend time with you,” you said.

“Well, I should hope so,” he replied, the arrogant smirk now back on his lips again. “I doubt there are better alternatives than me on this campus.”

“Probably not,” you said, rolling your eyes, and then biting, “but only because Inna left to go home tonight.”

Jungkook would have let you know how this wounded his impossibly huge ego if his mind hadn’t drifted elsewhere as soon as you said this.

“Oh,” he spoke, turning out of the parking lot and into the street. “So you have the place all to yourself, huh?”

You raised your eyebrows when you turned to look at him. “You could not have sounded more like a typical college boy as you said this.”

Jungkook smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I am a typical college boy.”

You smirked. “I thought you were only one of a kind.”

He gave you a proud look – completely ignoring the mocking undertones in your voice – before returning his eyes to the road as he drove towards his house.

“I am, of course,” he said. “Just wanted to hear you say it.”

Much to your – and Jungkook’s – surprise, the party ended up not being so bad, after all. Initially, you thought you’d have to come up with a way to leave after an hour, but several hours have passed now, and you had to admit, you were genuinely enjoying yourself here.

At the beginning, you couldn’t quite get comfortable – all because you could feel everyone’s stares on the two of you when you arrived hand-in-hand – but when you finished a few drinks, the people in the room no longer seemed as strange and threatening.

Jungkook helped you ease your discomfort by refusing to leave you alone – and making his close presence seem so casual, it was as if his parents were, indeed, here, watching you two play a relationship – but even when you finally convinced him to find his bandmates and say hi to them, you still didn’t feel too out-of-place.

You felt relaxed, actually. Excited. And maybe a little irrational or else you wouldn’t have found yourself on the couch next to Brock – the well-known social climber, dead-set on beating Jungkook in terms of campus popularity – discussing your plans for the summer.

“I want to spend at least a few weeks at home with my family,” you were telling him as you toyed with the edges of your third—or was it fourth?—drink tonight, “but only if I pass all of my finals at the top of the class. Or else I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“They’re that hard on you, huh?” Brock nodded knowingly – for someone who seemed so shallow when you first heard about him, he sure had a lot of empathy – and took a sip of his own drink.

“They’re alright,” you said, swallowing the remaining alcohol in your cup. “Although my roommate thinks they’re robots.”

“Oh, your roommate has met them?” he asked.

“I brought her over once,” you explained. “I do that with friends, usually, but only if we’re really close. Most people don’t handle the judgmental looks on my parents’ faces too well.”

“I see,” Brock said but only to win himself more time to find the right way to ask you this, “so, uh, has Jungkook met them?”

“My parents?” you asked. And then, not thinking about it, added, “of course. He met them a long time ago.”

Brock raised his eyebrows in evident surprise. It dawned on you then – albeit slowly – that he didn’t know how long you and Jungkook knew each other. Actually, probably no one at this party knew – you spent the majority of your time at university pretending Jungkook didn’t exist.

“So, you’ve been together for a while then?” Brock questioned.

His eyes didn’t give it away but you were sober enough to understand how this could have been a trick question: Jungkook was probably sleeping around with other girls before you started to talk again, so defining a clear timeline of your relationship was crucial or else you were going to fall down the spiral of “cheating” rumors.

“Uh… no,” you said, choosing to play dumb. “Not very long.”

“So, he met your parents before you started dating?”

“Yeah. My dad’s a teacher,” you said, which was the truth, so you didn’t completely lie, and Brock’s lips parted. You could almost see the puzzle pieces click together in his brain.

“Oh, I would not want to spend the summer with my parents if one of them was a teacher,” he said with a chuckle. You gave him a tell-me-about-it-look and scanned the room for another drink. “Are you going to be on campus during the rest of the summer?”

“Uh, probably, yeah,” you said. “I’d like to get an internship somewhere close, so I could live at the dorm.”

“Busy girl,” Brock said in a way that sounded more condescending than affectionate. His company no longer seemed so pleasant – you definitely needed another drink – but he didn’t seem to pick up on your emotions, “I know that Jungkook is probably going to be on campus as well but, um,” he scooted closer to you on the couch – just a little but enough for his knee to touch yours, “if he’s away, I could maybe show you—”

You didn’t hear what was it that he was going to show you because someone landed on the armrest of the couch right behind you. The smell of alcohol was the first thing you registered, but then you picked up the scent of the cologne, too, and you didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Jungkook.

“I’m back,” he spoke into your ear – whispered, actually -- sending an excited shiver down your spine. “I brought you something to try. It’s—”

It was a drink. Finally.

“Thanks,” you cut him off, not really thinking much of the pale green liquid in the half-empty shot glass and downing it all in one go. You frowned when the drink reached your throat, going down with a fiery resistance.

Jungkook noticed your grimace as you swallowed. He placed a protective hand on your back – and then shot Brock a warning look which prompted the boy to return to his previous spot on the other end of the couch – as you coughed, not really enjoying the anise-flavored travesty he’d brought you.

“You okay?” Jungkook asked, concerned.

“Mmhmm,” you replied, your esophagus still burning, “n-not a fan of absinthe. Have you been—” you paused to inhale through your mouth, cherishing every bit of cold air, “—drinking this the whole night?”

“Yeah, he basically drinks that shit raw,” Brock answered instead, somehow happy to see Jungkook bring you this much discomfort. “And it still takes him a while to get drunk.”

“I haven’t been,” Jungkook answered your question, deliberately ignoring everything the other boy had just said. “Taehyung broke out a bottle he’d brought back from France. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you replied, inhaling a few more times and then clearing your throat for good measure. “It just took me off-guard, that’s all—”

You ended up not finding the end of your sentence as Jungkook slid down the armrest and landed on the couch next to you, his arms sneaking around your waist as he pulled your body closer to his. Your heart would have most likely stopped if the shot of absinthe hadn’t released all this adrenaline into your bloodstream.

“I’m sorry,” he said into your hair – the close proximity and the quiet tone of his voice had quickly cut off all signals from the synapses inside your brain – and cuddled into you until he found a more comfortable position. “I would have warmed—warned you if you’d have given me a chance.”

He was obviously drunk and tongue-tied – but that was nothing new. What was new, however, was this affection, as he held on to you as if you were both stranded on a stray piece of wood in the ocean and he was afraid you were going to slide off into the water and die.

“T-that’s okay,” you said with a nervous chuckle, figuring that he was only doing this to prove a point that you were dating. But no one seemed to care; this far into the party, everyone was either making out with someone or dancing their lives away – except for Brock who was actively trying not to look at you two.

“Hmm,” Jungkook exhaled slowly for no reason other than to see the skin on the nape of your neck shiver from his breath. He wasn’t drunk enough to miss the effect he had on you, but he was far too drunk to be able to hold himself back from deliberately affecting you this way.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” you asked, not uncomfortable in his arms per se, but certainly tense – even more so when you finally concluded that he was holding you like this specifically because Brock was here.

“Not much,” Jungkook replied, still as quiet as before. He shot the boy across the couch a glance so full of spite, you would have believed him to be completely sober if you’d seen him do it.

Brock only rolled his eyes in response, ready to say something to you but instead, he was forced to watch you strain your neck as you tried to look at Jungkook, his grip on your waist not loosening.

“Really? Because you seem really drunk,” you told Jungkook, your voice no longer passive.

He snickered – you felt his abdomen muscles move against your back as he did – and, purposefully staring right Brock in the eyes, he said, “I’m only drunk on you.”

If he wanted to see you squirm, he would have succeeded, but his grip on you was too tight for you to move. Pressing your lips together, you touched his knee with your hand in a warning manner. You didn’t like being caught in the middle of a purposeless war of masculinity.

“Maybe it’s time we left, then,” you suggested. He worshiped the disappointment that appeared on Brock’s face after you said this.

“Yeah?” Jungkook asked – but he didn’t have to, he was just trying to win some more time to hold you close to him like this – and then, slowly unwrapping his arms from your waist, he said, “I’ll run to say bye to the guys, okay? It’ll only be one second. Meet you by the door?”

“Sure, yeah. Take your time. I’ll stop by the bathroom before we go,” you said, craving some cold water on your face – and not just because of the lingering fire in your throat – as Jungkook released you and stood up, leaving an unnaturally cold sensation behind you, where his body had been.

He walked off quickly, his grin only widening when he glanced at you over his shoulder and saw you stand up and walk away from the couch without saying a word to Brock.

What Jungkook didn’t see, however, was how -- as soon as he rounded the corner to enter the kitchen where his bandmates were searching for sugar cubes for their ridiculous absinthe ritual -- Brock leaped from his seat and grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away.

“Hey,” he said, pulling away when he felt you flinch in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—uh, you headed home, then?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking your hand back and hiding it behind your back in defense. “It was nice talking to you.”

“It really was!” he said, a little too enthusiastically. “Which is why I was wondering if you were free anytime soon. So we could talk again, maybe? I just don’t want this to be the only time I get to hang out with you. I felt like we had a real connection. You know?”

You didn’t. You thought he wasn’t a terrible person to talk to, but you could only tolerate him in small doses.

“Mmhmm. Well, we live on the same campus,” you said, trying to smile politely as you made your way towards the bathroom. Much to your disappointment – and horror – Brock fell into step with you. “I’m sure we will, uh, see each other around.”

“Yeah? Where do you usually hang out? When you’re not with Jungkook, I mean.”

As far away from you as possible, was going to be your answer if he wasn’t going to let you walk away from him.

“Everywhere,” you said and then decided to make yourself sound less available, “or nowhere, actually. I prefer to stay home. With my roommate.”

“I like to stay home, too,” he said. You doubted that very much – unless staying home meant throwing parties at the million-dollar mansion that his parents had purchased for him. “You think we could do that together some time?”

You could distinctly recall the way your heart sped up when Jungkook suggested nearly the same thing one time. Brock’s words seemed to have a completely opposite effect on you, however, as you desperately looked for a way out of the situation and were almost prepared to use the golden I-have-a-boyfriend excuse – which could have been true for all that Brock knew – when he spoke again.

“Just you and me,” he clarified. “You could text me when Jungkook is away.”

Now, if only he could have survived five seconds without bringing Jungkook up – further proving to you that this was all about Brock showing everyone that he was better – maybe you would have stopped and considered this – although you doubted that, too – but now you didn’t even hesitate before you clicked your tongue.

“Don’t you think that’s inappropriate?” you asked.

He clearly didn’t as he retorted, “why?”

“Because this is something that you wouldn’t suggest if he was here,” you explained. “And I don’t really want to go behind his back and plan some secret tête-à-têtes.”

You gave him a smile – instead of saying goodbye – and were already reaching for the handle of the bathroom door when he grabbed your hand again. This time, when you turned to look at him, you didn’t bother to hide the irritation in your eyes.

“You misunderstand me,” Brock said, very matter-of-fact but still wary as he let go of your hand. Good. You were going to need it when you inevitably smacked him across the face. “I’m not implying anything. I just genuinely liked talking to you and would like to do it again without anyone bothering us. If you don’t think Jungkook’s going to allow you to see me, I can talk to him about—”

“No,” you said sharply. “I don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything. It’s my decision. And I said no.”

Brock watched your eyes for a moment, intrigued by how strict they looked.

“Okay,” he said then. “Got it.”

You nodded and, almost tripping over your own feet in your hurry, you finally tore yourself away from the party by entering the bathroom and locking the door.

Alone at last, you exhaled and walked over to the sink, choosing not to look at your reflection in the mirror out of fear of dissociating even more – you already felt disoriented enough.

Washing your hands with cold water and then dabbing wet fingertips under your eyes and down the sides of your face felt refreshing, but it wasn’t enough to stop your heart from working overtime – courtesy of Jungkook and Brock, and their passive-aggressive battle to show the other one who was better.

You weren’t sure what you were more frustrated with: the fact that Jungkook’s touch affected you so much or the fact that he only seemed to touch you to show off to Brock. Obviously, you’d come here to establish your relationship in front of your peers but, considering that Jungkook tried to treat this whole thing as a sort of business deal, only worrying about his parents’ opinion, his actions tonight seemed over the top.

Not to mention, you could have handled Brock yourself. He was the first person who talked to you at this party and he probably only did because he’d seen you arrive with Jungkook, and, just like with everything else, he was determined to replace him. Naturally, Jungkook -- never one to back down from a challenge -- wanted to put Brock in his place.

This really irked you – you liked to be in charge of your own life and hated having to rely on others to do things for you. Jungkook should have known that.

But although you were irritated, you didn’t feel like starting an argument and then potentially having to deal with dead bodies. However, right after you decided to leave the party quietly, your mythical sixth sense picked up a bad vibe and your stomach dropped – all just a second before you heard deep grunts of struggle from behind the door of the bathroom.

For just a split second, you hoped that this commotion didn’t involve Jungkook but all of that hope vanished when one of the voices yelled, “who the fuck do you think you are?” and you recognized the undeniable tenor of your childhood friend.

Cursing under your breath, you shut the water off and, not even bothering to find a towel, walked out of the room with your hands still dripping.

You felt hopeful yet again when you saw the almost empty living room – maybe they stopped fighting – but that hope disappeared soon enough, too, when a tirade of cuss words reached you from the kitchen, followed by the sound of skin slapping against skin, muscle against muscle.

Following the sound, you clenched your hands into fists and tried to brace yourself for whatever you were about to witness. And, just like you expected, a group of spectators – always thirsty for some violence – was watching Jungkook hold Brock by the collar of his shirt.

Brock – who was obviously enjoying the attention of the whole party – snarled something that provoked Jungkook to throw another punch to the side of his face. Brock’s whole head twisted to a side and, roughly pushing Jungkook off of himself until his back hit the fridge, Brock spat the blood out onto the kitchen floor.

“Jungkook!” you called out before they turned this whole house into a boxing ring. He heard you – his eyes drifted to the group of people watching him – but he couldn’t see you through the crowd.

Cursing again, you tried to push past the people even if it involved losing sight of the two boys – you could hear the fight carry on as they slammed each other against furniture – until you finally reached the kitchen island and saw Jungkook carelessly hurl Brock on top of it, his head nearly hitting the marble tabletop.

“Jungkook, for fuck’s sake,” you snapped.

It was hard to say if he heard you this time, because one of Brock’s hands broke free and roughly pushed Jungkook’s chest. The boy stumbled backwards, hitting the cupboard behind him with a loud groan as empty plastic cups scattered all over the tabletop and rolled to the floor.

Recovering immediately, Jungkook lunged for Brock again – but this time you were there to interrupt them.

Grabbing Jungkook’s wrist as soon as he swung his hand back to prepare a punch, you finally got him to tear his eyes away from the opponent and give you a frenzied look.

“That’s enough,” you said, all out of breath as if it was you that’s been in a fight. “You made your point.”

Brock rolled off the kitchen island and coughed loudly as he dusted his shirt off. When you turned your head – both of your hands still gripping Jungkook’s raised fist, even if he was no longer planning to punch anything with it – you saw that Brock’s lip was bleeding, his left eye was starting to swell, and various hues of dark purple decorated the right side of his face.

Jungkook looked better in comparison to him – at least, from what you could see – although his cheekbones were clearly bruised, the skin irritated and bright red.

“You need to learn how to take a fucking joke,” Brock spat just as you let go of Jungkook. Immediately, he jumped past you, seemingly ready to knock Brock out.

Brock stumbled backwards, not yet prepared to defend himself against Jungkook again, but he didn’t have to do anything because you’d sneaked under Jungkook’s raised arms and pressed both of your hands into his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“Jungkook,” you told him, knowing you had to remain calm in order to make progress, but struggling as fury boiled inside your veins.

Jungkook looked at you, his nostrils still flaring, but his anger dissipating as quickly as it had ignited. He took a step back until you no longer had a hold on him, and snarled at Brock, “you’re a fucking joke. Let’s go.”

The last part was directed at you, obviously, as Jungkook turned around. Knowing how quickly he could change his mind, you took his hand in yours just to make sure he didn’t knock anyone unconscious on his way out of the house.

Everything was already so surreal, you were glad he was clutching your hand so tight it almost hurt, or else you’d have thought you were dreaming. But then, to make this even more hard to believe, Jungkook exited the house and made a beeline for his car.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, stopping and thus pulling him to a stop, too.

“We’re getting out of here,” he shot back as he finished climbing the few remaining porch steps. You remained at the top. “I’m driving you home.”

You could have laughed at the absurdity.

“You are not driving,” you said, resisting his pull as he tried to get you to climb down the steps. “You’re wasted. Do you not realize that?”

“I don’t—”

“First, you need to sit down,” you told him and lowered yourself until you were sitting on the porch, your feet resting on the lowest step.

Jungkook held your hand and watched you, frozen.

“Sit,” you repeated, making it sound more like an order this time.

“I need to get out of here,” he said, growing frustrated with your need to mediate between him and his obvious anger issues. “I’m not fucking sitting—”

“Well, you’re not getting behind the wheel of a car, either,” you cut him off, pulling his hand down.

He still resisted. “I’m fine. Let go of me.”

“Sit.”

“I’m not fucking sitting down, for fuck’s—!”

“Then stop acting like a fucking lunatic and get a grip on yourself!” you yelled, all patience gone as you jumped to your feet. “You’re drunk whether you realize it or not. You can’t drive yourself, let alone someone else, and you’re fucking out of your mind with anger. So, sit your ass down and fucking breathe. Or else I’m calling the police to get you arrested. Maybe that will get through your thick head.”

Scolded to the point where he almost felt embarrassed, Jungkook mumbled something incoherent and sat down.

“God, you truly never grew up,” you said with an exasperated sigh as you plopped back down next to him. “Always looking for different ways to get your adrenaline fix.”

He groaned, leaning forwards as he rested his elbows on his knees and hid his face in his hands.

You wanted to ask him what was it that Brock had said that provoked him to start a fight -- because you had no doubt that Jungkook was the one who threw the first punch -- but decided against it. You didn’t want Jungkook to fire up again.

And so, you sat in silence for a little while – you, fuming, and Jungkook, trying to control his breathing – until he finally sat up straight and dared to look at you. Your eyes were set firmly on the grass, swaying freely in the night wind.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked.

Your face didn’t even twitch as you countered, “what do you think?”

“At me?” he tried again.

“What do you think?”

He swallowed. “What did I do wrong?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Do you seriously have to ask me that?”

“Yes,” he said, knowing that he was going to get a lecture but needing to hear it in order to properly defend himself. “Obviously.”

“You got into a fight with Brock,” you said because it was this simple.

“Yeah,” Jungkook confirmed pointlessly and then said with a prideful undertone, “because he deserved to get punched.”

He did not seem to regret it in the slightest and would have probably done it again if he went back inside the house – that’s what scared you the most about this. You may as well have been talking to a wall.

“But that’s exactly what he wants—” you tried, but Jungkook cut you off.

“To get punched?” he asked.

“No—to get a reaction out of you,” you explained, more patient now that it looked like he was finally starting to listen to you, “he wants people to talk shit about you.”

Then, surprising you, Jungkook said, “I know.”

It took you a moment to grasp that he knew the consequences his actions would have, and that made his decisions all the more self-destructive.

“So,” you took a breath, “why do you do this?”

You were scared of his answer but instead of sounding like a lost cause, he just sounded aggressively nihilistic.

“Why not?” he retorted, shrugging one of his shoulders. “What do I have to lose? At least they’re talking about me. About us.”

If he’d asked you – really asked you, not just rhetorically – you’d have told him about all the things he would have lost if he kept this up. But he didn’t ask because he didn’t think there was an answer – a meaningful answer – that would have been worth the change in attitude.

He was simply convinced he didn’t have anything worth to keep: not his relationship with his parents, and not even what remained of his own reputation.

“Well, yes, but what they’re saying isn’t doing us…” you started to say but felt yourself hit a dead-end. You were a conformist. He, clearly, wasn’t. But it wasn’t for you to decide which one of you was right when it came to dealing with campus rumors. “Anyway. That was wrong. You know fighting is wrong. You end up getting hurt.”

“He’s the one who picked a fight with me as soon as you walked away,” Jungkook mumbled childishly.

“That doesn’t mean you’re any less guilty,” you stated. “You were acting weird around him before the fight, so, in a way, you brought it upon yourself.”

Jungkook looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “When did I act weird?”

You looked away. “When you brought me that shot of absinthe.”

“What do you mean?” he asked but he knew what you meant. “I was just letting him know that we were dating. Letting everyone know that we were—”

“Right but everyone got that when we arrived together,” you spoke as soon as your face started to grow warmer from the memory of you and him on that couch, “and none of that even matters, anyway, remember? Your parents aren’t here. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he said.

You paused. Then asked, “what?”

“I wanted to touch you,” Jungkook clarified. “Is that wrong?”

For a minute, you couldn’t remember if you thought that was wrong or not when he put it like that.

“It’s—” you said and then swallowed, thanking the cold breeze that raised goosebumps on your bare legs for distracting you from his intoxicating words. You had completely sobered up when you had to break up that fight and you’d have liked to remain clear-minded. “Well, if you’re doing it to mark your territory like some dog, then yeah. It’s wrong. It’s disrespectful to me.”

“I wasn’t trying to mark my territory.”

“It felt like you were.”

Sighing, he caved, even though he hated the accusation, “alright, maybe I was, a little. But Brock needed to know that he was never going to get to touch you like that.”

“Ah,” you smiled humorlessly, “and you get that privilege, right?”

“I—well, didn’t we come here to show off?”

“We did, supposedly. But…”

Your voice faded because you realized that one of the biggest reasons why it felt like he’d crossed the line tonight, was because his actions affected you so much. If you hadn’t cared about him the way that you did, you probably wouldn’t have been bothered by the methods he chose to prove the authenticity of your relationship.

Sure, he could have been less possessive, but you knew him well enough to understand that he wasn’t trying to offend you. And yet you couldn’t let this go without standing up for yourself – especially not after he tried to take back every single one of his confessions the last time you’d talked to him.

“We weren’t supposed to do it like that,” you said, sounding a little more confident now. “I just felt like you went too far. Brock wasn’t worth it.”

“There’s a dozen others like Brock at that party,” Jungkook pointed out.

You scoffed. “Right. Even if there are, the only reason why they’d want me is so they could brag about stealing Jungkook’s girl.”

“No, it’s—is that the only reason why you think these guys want you?” he looked at you as he asked this, almost appalled that you would reduce your own impact to this level.

“They don’t—” you started to say with a shake of your head but that was enough for Jungkook.

“They do,” he countered, cutting you off, “and it’s not because you came with me. It’s because you’re you,” he didn’t mean to scan you from head to toe with his eyes as he said this but self-control was not one of his strong suits.

You had your objections but, at the same time, you were able to understand that arguing about this would have been pointless. Your knowledge about how men functioned came from text-books and observations, while his came from personal experience. You’d never see eye-to-eye about this.

“Why do you care about those other guys?” Jungkook asked after you didn’t reply.

“I—I don’t,” you said, still distracted by your own thoughts. “But you clearly do.”

“Of course, I do,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “They want you.”

You looked at him. “So, even if they do, why does it matter?”

“It matters because they can’t have you,” he said, “and they need to know that.”

“Know what?”

“That you’re mine.”

Your hands went numb and the fabric of your skirt that you’d been playing with started to feel foreign – fake, even – so you dropped it and took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around your midriff instead.

“I get that we’re playing a relationship,” you said, quieter than you probably should have, “but I’m not a trophy that you can brag about when you feel like it.”

“You might as well be,” he said, not intending to make it sound like you were some decoration, but realizing how it could have been interpreted precisely like that, “maybe ‘trophy’ wasn’t the right word. I mean that you are something—someone—to brag about. Because I’m proud to call you min—m-my, uh, fake-girlfriend. My friend. I’m proud of who you are. Proud of what you’d achieved. Proud of the way you can call me out on my bullshit and put me in my place—”

You did not acknowledge his slip-up with the label of your relationship – because he was drunk – scoffing instead, “there’s no way in hell you’re proud of that last one.”

“No, no, I am,” he nodded for more effect. “No one has the patience to deal with my shit. But you do.”

You went quiet again, your head spinning. The buzz of the alcohol had mostly worn off but you were unable to find a way to reply to him, and you chose to blame the drinks you’d had for that.

“Don’t do that again, okay?” you ended up saying.

Your thoughts ran a little too fast for him to keep up. “Do what?”

“Get into fights,” you said. “Act irrationally to prove a point.”

“Me hugging you was completely rational,” he said, bringing it up with such ease, it was like he was a completely different person now.

“You know what I mean,” you said. “Don’t treat me like an object. Especially, since it doesn’t change anything with your parents.”

“I wasn’t trying to--w-why are you bringing my parents into this?”

“Because of the other night?” you said, thinking it was obvious. “You were completely dismissive about this – a-about us – and you basically said that—”

“I know what I said,” he cut you off, looking down at the wooden steps of the porch. He remembered. “I didn’t mean that.”

So, here’s the answer, then: he didn’t mean that. But something – fear, insecurity, uncertainty – had still made him reduce your relationship to just an act for his parents.

“Okay,” you said, hesitating. “But we’d agreed to tell each other the truth. So, don’t—don’t say things you don’t mean. Not when it’s just us alone.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nodded, a promise on his lips, “I’ll think before I act from now on.”

You scrunched your nose, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “Will you, really?”

He considered it, then rephrased himself, “I’ll try to think before I act.”

That got you to smile. “That’s better. Thank you.”

Jungkook smiled back and the tension outside of his house seemed to blow away with the wind. Even the night shadows around you suddenly seemed brighter.

“You have to admit, though,” Jungkook said then, “my plan to get Brock to believe we’re dating worked so much better than your diplomatic speech would have.”

“Why do you think I’d have given him a diplomatic speech?” you asked.

“I’ve known you since birth,” he replied, grinning.

“Fair point,” you couldn’t help but snicker. “We’re still doing it my way next time, though.”

“Alright,” he nodded, not really caring about much else except that you said there was going to be a next time. “So, you ready to go home now?”

You’d been ready to go home for a while now.

“I am,” you said,

He stood up. “Let’s go.”

You stood up after him but, once again, hesitated before climbing down the porch steps.

“Actually,” you spoke slowly, “I think I’m going alone.”

Jungkook hadn’t noticed that you weren’t following him as he headed towards the pavement across the front yard. He stopped at the sound of your distant voice and turned around.

“What?”

“Yeah,” you said, making your way towards him. “You stay here. Stay out of fights and—”

He was shaking his head. “If you think I’m going to let you go home alone, you’re—”

“If you think I need your permission to—”

“Okay, sorry, my bad,” he lifted his hands in a defensive manner that interrupted you. “I didn’t choose my words well. But my point stands. You’re not going home alone.”

You looked away with a sigh.

“Neither of us can drive,” you said, “and I’m not staying here.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, dismissing your attempt to escape him with a very sarcastic, “oh, and that would sure be tragic if our plans didn’t involve us going back to your place together anyway.”

“I…” you did feel the same pang of excitement in the pit of your stomach as you did when he first suggested you spent more time together at your dorm, but everything that happened since then made you unsure if it was such a good idea, after all. “I feel like going to sleep, actually.”

“Okay,” he didn’t seem bothered by that. “I’m walking you home, then.”

“I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way,” you said.

“I’m sure you are, you’ve walked around campus plenty of times before,” he said, still as witty as ever. “I’m still coming with you.”

“Jungkook…”

“Let me. Please,” he took a step closer to you as he said this and you would have probably let him to do almost anything when you saw the night sky reflected in his eyes. “I don’t want to walk you home so that other people would believe that we’re in a relationship. So that my parents would believe we’re in a relationship. Or because you’re an item I want to show off. I want to walk you home because I want to walk you home.”

You could no longer feel the cold, late-hour wind.

“Okay, fine,” you said, your voice purposefully indifferent and even irritated, just so your real feelings wouldn’t manifest themselves. “Walk me home, then.”

“Way to make it sound like I’m putting you in pain,” Jungkook jabbed.

“You are kind of a pain in my ass, actually,” you pointed out.

“Yeah? Does that pain bother you?”

“Yes, very much,” you glared at him as the two of you crossed the front yard towards the main street where he’d crashed his car weeks ago when you first found each other again. “Keeps me up all night with thoughts about it.”

“Good,” he said with a smirk, walking around you inconspicuously, so that he was on your right side, his body shielding you from the cars that drove past every now and then. One could never know what sort of a drunk lunatic could drive by. “That means my plan has worked.”

keep reading | masterlist

[curiosity-killed]

a bow for the bad decisions

canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)

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

The office still looks the same. In the space between blinks or in looking up from the desk, he keeps expecting to see Uncle Jiang behind the desk instead of Jiang Cheng. The dissonance leaves him a little unsteady, like he has to blink away the afterimage to see the present. He doesn’t mention it. No sense troubling shijie and Jiang Cheng with it. It’s not the only ghost lingering in his periphery anyway. “Yu Bujue can take over the upper level cultivation lessons,” Jiang Cheng says, “and Cao Xingtao is strong enough to take over the sword lessons.” He hates this, this calm delineation of his own weaknesses. These have been his duties since he was fifteen, since he passed half their own teachers and stepped fully into his role as Head Disciple. He’s supposed to be the one training their disciples, running them through their paces and building them back up stronger. He hunches a little into his shoulders, fiddling with Chenqing’s tassel. He doesn’t have room to object, he knows. He’s the one who told them how useless he was. They’re only doing what’s right, taking care of Yunmeng Jiang.

“Rumors are going to start if your da-shixiong is passing off all his work,” he points out.

This is why it would be easier if he just left. If he passed out of Lotus Pier in the night, he could just disappear into the shadows, let the resentment dissolve him into ash. Everyone the world around knows how inconsistent and capricious he is now. Sure, there’d be plenty to say about his own character, but at least it wouldn’t come back on Lotus Pier. At least they wouldn’t have to deal with his own shortcomings. “You said you had some ideas about defensive arrays,” Jiang Cheng says. “Defense is a higher priority than teaching a couple lessons.” Wei Wuxian stills, studying his brother. He can’t seriously be suggesting Wei Wuxian use demonic cultivation here in his own home. It was one thing during the war; Jiang Cheng has always been pragmatic, strategic in his own way. They were fighting a war and Wei Wuxian was a weapon, no matter how unsightly or unorthodox. No one looked too hard at the blood on a blade as long as it was pointed in the right direction. “You’d have demonic cultivation in Lotus Pier?” he asks carefully. Jiang Cheng catches his eye and shrugs, uncomfortable, as he looks away. “The old defenses weren’t strong enough. I promised I’d never let anyone take Lotus Pier again. So,” he says. He clears his throat. “Anyway, if our Head Disciple is the grandmaster of a whole cultivation path, it’d be dumb not to use it.” Something warm and unfamiliar uncurls in Wei Wuxian’s chest, more comforting than any embrace. He swallows and gives a short nod instead of saying any of the ridiculous things that press against the back of his throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, I mean,” Jiang Cheng adds brusquely, “and tell me what you’re doing so it doesn’t backfire and kick your ass.” He laughs, and shakes his head. He’s had his ass thoroughly kicked by resentful energy, and he knows it would flatten Jiang Cheng if it wanted to. Still, he’s — touched by the trust. “Alright,” he agrees. “You could also teach some of the classes that don’t require as much spiritual energy,” shijie says. “The early classes on meditation and the talisman courses. It might help with rumors, and it could help stabilize your qi as well.” She sits primly on the third side of the desk, hands folded neatly in her lap and expression solemn. He forgets, some times, that she was there for all the war too. It’s easy to do when the marks of violence are so much starker on Jiang Cheng and the rest of them. He’s grown used to seeing his brother steeped in blood, grown familiar with the cold flat look in his eyes when he kills someone. Shijie isn’t half so obvious. She still smiles for them, still mothers them with that soft love she’s wielded for nearly as long as he remembers. Her scars are subtler, tucked in the tight frown she wears now as she contemplates their next steps and the quiet tears he’s caught her shedding a few times when she doesn’t realize he’s passing by. He and Jiang Cheng were out killing men on the frontline, but she followed in their aftermath, trying to hold together the wounded and dying. He wrinkles his nose, releasing Chenqing. Across the desk, Jiang Cheng’s expression is equally doubtful. “Meditation?” he says. “Shijie, I got kicked out of our meditation classes more than anyone in the history of Yunmeng Jiang.” A smile quirks at the corners of her lips, but the look she turns to him isn’t the fond exasperation he expects. There’s something knowing, something tinged with sadness, instead. “You meditated during the war,” she points out gently. This time, he’s the one to look away. He’s been trying to keep everything tucked away since he came back. It’s one thing for them to know he doesn’t have a golden core anymore, but he will not tell them about the Burial Mounds, about the resentful energy still spooled in the marrow of his bones. It lies quiescent and idle as long as his own emotions aren’t drawing on it, and he can stop that either through white-knuckled control or through the hazy buffer of liquor. He couldn’t afford to loosen his grip during the war, so he’d meditated to fine tune and strengthen his grip. Now, though — now he doesn’t want to have control over it. He doesn’t want to have to spend his every hour painfully conscious of the resentment that moves through him, alive and vicious and waiting. “Alright,” he agrees reluctantly. “Fine.” There’s a small quiet after his concession before shijie reaches out and gives his wrist a squeeze. He glances up to see her offering him a softer smile, reassurance. Releasing his wrist, she turns back to the papers laid out on Jiang Cheng’s desk. “Outside of Lotus Pier, there are still challenges from the other sects,” she points out. “Jin Guangshan’s frothing at the mouth to get that amulet,” Jiang Cheng agrees. Immediately, Wei Wuxian’s hackles rise, hand tightening around Chenqing’s neck. “He can’t have it,” he says flatly. “I’ll destroy it before he can touch it.” He doesn’t know how to explain the amulet to them. It and Chenqing were made of the yin iron sword just the same, but they’re wholly different beasts. Chenqing is his. She hums under his skin, a needling purr, hungry and ready at his call. The amulet is…different. Other. It’s more the sword than anything else and it still retains that presence. He can wield it, use it, but it’s borrowed power. It remembers what it was like to unmake him, and its teeth trace lovingly against the tender skin of his neck. It remembers their promise, their bargain. It waits. “Of course,” Jiang Cheng says, waving off his answer like it was obvious from the start. “But the fact remains the Jin Sect came out of the war nearly unscathed. They’re strong enough to take us down with one hand behind their back. And it’s not like you made a lot of friends in the war who’ll stand up to stop them.” Wei Wuxian purses his lips, annoyed that Jiang Cheng isn’t wrong. “We need alliances,” shijie says. Jiang Cheng sighs, presses a thumb into the ridge of his eye socket like he’s warding off a headache. Wei Wuxian sympathizes. He’d rather fight another legion of cultivators than wade through the tangled net of politics. “Lanling Jin’s already wrapped everything so well around them with Gusu Lan and Qinghe Nie,” Jiang Cheng says. “We should’ve petitioned for Wei Wuxian to be granted sworn brotherhood, too, I guess.” “Me?” Wei Wuxian asks, startled. “But you’re the sect leader, it would’ve made more sense for you.” The look Jiang Cheng shoots him is scathing. “Who took Nightless City?” he snaps back. “We weren’t winning the war till you came. Three months of skirmishes didn’t give us much in the way of victory.” He subsides at that, feeling strangely chastised by the praise. Shijie frowns, her lips pressing together in thought. “It won’t hold the political strength of a sworn allegiance,” she says, “but you were both close with Nie Huaisang before the war. Chifeng-zun has always cared deeply for him. Perhaps you could rekindle that friendship. He could visit Lotus Pier for a time.” Sourness rolls unsteady deep in stomach at the mention of Huaisang. The three of them spent childhood summers together, towed back and forth between Qinghe and Yunmeng depending on the year. He remembers dunking Jiang Cheng under the lake water and Huaisang squealing when they teamed up to drag him into the water. He remembers laying on his belly, feet waving in the air, beside Huaisang as they painted mountains and clouds and each other. He can’t remember the last time he lifted a brush to paint anything but talismans, to create anything but ruin. The last time he saw Huaisang, he’d flinched away, shuddered up a fearful barrier between him and his old childhood friend. Guilt is an uneasy squeeze under his ribs. “And a-Xian,” shijie says, turning to him, “you should talk to Lan Wangji.” He balks, recoiling. “Lan Zhan?” he demands. “What— why?” He hasn’t spoken to Lan Zhan since the war, since the fall of Nightless City. There’s no point to it anymore, he thinks and stubbornly ignores the way his heart twists. Shijie looks at him with endless patience. “I thought you two were close friends and confidants,” she says and doesn’t give him a chance to protest. “He was dedicated in helping you during the war.” “To exorcise the evil out me,” he scoffs, looking away. “So I should tell him everything so that the great Hanguang-jun can come save this feeble man from my own wickedness?” Bitterness scrapes across his tongue, sour speckling his throat. He once thought Lan Zhan was his equal, his match. Now, he thinks of his scowl, his voice coming hard and reproachful and all the times he said that he was committing evil, practicing wicked tricks that would leave him burnt and ruined.    Telling him he has no core, that he is broken in a way no song of healing or clarity can remedy— No. Wei Wuxian knows he wouldn’t be able to stop there. If he let Lan Zhan close enough to tell him that, it would all spill out of him, all this bad blood clotted up in his heart. He would drain himself dry, and there would be nothing left when Lan Zhan inevitably recoiled, horrified and disgusted, and turned his back. He won’t do it. He can’t. He’s too selfish. He can’t have Lan Zhan’s friendship the way he once did, but he’s not strong enough to end it for Lan Zhan, to provide him this easy justification for walking away. He can’t bear to see those dark eyes wide with pity, not for him. He’d rather be hated than pitied. Rather bite back than open up his tender underbelly.

[ycllowshocs]

SHIP. ELISE AND REEVES.

uncamaleon said:

The whole shebang for the otp meme for Reeves 😘

[ MUN. This is my not surprised face :P ]

ALSO. Random note about Elise I realized I need to say after completing this and realizing she seems extremely shy and like she is a homebody which is weird for someone working in house sales; she’s not. Elise is great at her job. She can smooze and compliment people into buying a house and make that sale with the best of them. Be glad she isn’t in a competitive field. She’d hand you your ass. But in her personal life she is a bit more quiet and reserved. She can get really shy in a relationship because it is so deeply personal and it is hard for her to open up. ( She is very scared about getting hurt. ) Random people are easy for her. She can be polite to that poor lost guy trying to find the closest supermarket or the old lady that doesn’t know where something is in the book store. If it is people connected to an important relationship though she can get a bit shy. Like meeting someone’s family or best friends. Her high school reunion. It takes you back there. And with a developing relationship it takes her a bit to relax fully.

OTP Ask Meme

1. Who wakes up first?

Elise. She has a lot of early morning appointments for work. Also she is currently the only one of them that has an actual 9-5 style job. The only times Reeves beats her might be on weekends or if he never did fully get to sleep.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Both. But Reeves is normally the one found trying [ and able ] to talk Elise into it. Though she is a pretty good persuader too ;)

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

They are both pretty equal. Reeves has his rock god musician look to uphold and Elise has her fashionable looks. It would probably end up being Elise. Because women’s clothing are not made to go on easily. And women are expected to do so much more to look presentable.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Reeves goes into another room and works on music normally. ( Sometimes he might just watch Elise sleep for a bit. ) 

Elise slips out of the bedroom to watch tv quietly maybe on her ipad or on the tv so she doesn’t risk waking him up. Occasionally she’ll read that book she’s been trying to get through. ( With work and life she doesn’t get a lot of down time to actually be able to dedicate attention to a good book fully. She doesn’t read a lot at night because she doesn’t want to fall asleep and miss something important. )

If we’re talking the both of them, they normally will just lay there and talk quietly until one of them drifts off, fingers brushing patterns on each other’s skin and carding through each other’s hair.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

It kind of depends. They alternate depending on the day of the week. Either way whoever stays up longer covers the other with a blanket and cuddles up to join them or if the movie is over they’ll gently wake the other to help them walk ( or carry ) them into the bedroom. There are a lot of couch cuddles. These two are bad at sleep.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

Reeves likes to claim he does more but Elise often goes in and out of sleep so she’ll wake back up and then spend the next little while just watching him and thinking how lucky she is that he wanted her.  They both do it though. The romantic saps.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Reeves. He likes to use them to make Elise laugh.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

Reeves. Elise doesn’t really play. She’s bad at controller games. She didn’t have a gaming system other than a Gameboy growing up.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Reeves. He’s often on the phone with his agent or busily replying to an email or text and he gets distracted. Elise laughs at him when he does it. ( Before of course making sure he’s alright and kissing his forehead or nose where he smacked it. )

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back

Elise likes to set his ringtone to one of his own songs for amusement.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Elise. It’s one of her coping mechanism. If she’s anxious she’ll go on a cleaning spree and reorganize the apartment/house.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Reeves. Because he is adorable.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Both. They love animals. Don’t get them started on the animals they got to play with when on vacation in Australia....

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Elise. She’s good about it but it is definitely there. She doesn’t scream but there are some very colorful words dripping out of her mouth under her breath. Reeves doesn’t drive all that much and is pretty relaxed anyways.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Elise does love a good set of comfy fluffy socks. Especially on rainy days. If it is cold she’ll wear them instead of slippers but normally she’ll take them off to sleep. A lot of times at night Elise runs hot so if she leaves them on she’ll get a little too toasty. 

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Elise. She doesn’t forget to put it on because she has been pretty pale her whole life and burns very easily. There is not going to be a repeat of that summer after 6th grade...

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Reeves. He has actual pockets unlike most of female clothing. :/ They are both good at staying organized though. Two heads are always checking off docs when they travel.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Elise. She doesn’t get to travel quite as much as he does so it is an adventure. Also, this way Elise doesn’t have to deal with a stranger next to her. Reeves is more of a people person in all situations.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Reeves. Elise if she does it is completely by accident. Reeves loves to get a squeaked reaction out of Elise and laughs. Though she does like his cold hands. Feet though. Not her favorite.

20. What do they argue about the most?

Though Reeves never really shows it, he is human and does get tired and frustrated at times. It bothers him that Elise hides in herself so much. That she doesn’t really show her actual self at all. I mean look at her apartment. It looks more like a show home when he starts seeing her than like she lives there.

Sometimes it feels like she doesn’t even really know herself. There are times when she just hides from him and he is just so frustrated that she won’t just be herself. And when they start dating it is something that she becomes aware of. She’s just so used to being disconnected to a certain extent. And it drives him crazy. He wants to know this woman he has been thinking about for a decade. This woman that he spent years going to school with and fell in love with her little quirks. He got to see a little bit of her at the reunion but at times it feels like he hasn’t learned much more than that night. He wants to know her likes and dislikes. He wants to know what makes her laugh and what makes her cry. And a lot of times she’ll just be neutral about something and it isn’t really even on a conscious level most of the time.

So it is frustrating. But.

They have made a rule never to go to bed angry. And always kiss each other goodnight.

And she really is working on it. Slowly but surly she is getting to know herself better along with Reeves. She has also been bad about doing things for herself before they were together. Most of the time she just lived for work and didn’t do much for herself.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Reeves. Thankfully never with his guitar.

22. Who texts more often?

Reeves. He sends little messages at random to let Elise know he is thinking of her; especially when he is out of town. She does too sometimes but she’s often on her actual phone for work or else has her phone on silent if she is with clients.

23. Who is better with kids?

More often Reeves since he is around his friends kids a little more now that he comes back to visit to see Elise. Kids tend to like both of them though. Elise is just fine holding a baby while people are busy. Her pretty calm energy ( when not surrounded by strangers or forced into the center of attention ) radiates with them. She’s good with calming crying babies. Reeves is the good one at keeping them entertained. They do well as a team.

She has been known to entertain a baby while parents go to explore a room more during a house showing.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Reeves. His food has more flavor. Elise likes flavor and hates the boring recipes from her childhood. There are not many recipes saved from her side of the family. They both like to pick up interesting spices they find at random to experiment with. They both like spicy food.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Reeves early in the morning for his coffee. He isn’t awake, okay? Stop laughing at him.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Thankfully no one has forgotten metal in the microwave but there has been a plastic fork at 4am before. Neither will admit who it was.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Reeves. He likes to be productive. Though Elise has been known to bake brownies on a whim.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Elise. Completely by accident. She’ll be in her own little world in the kitchen getting lost in her thoughts. Most of the time she tries to catch it because she doesn’t want her insomnia to bother Reeves but sometimes subconsciously she’ll let it ring out.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

They both do. Rebellious kids at heart. Salmonella who? Never met ‘em.  It’s chocolate. Of course they sample.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

If they are both home and they’ve had dinner sometimes they’ll do them together. Reeves will do them if she has some extra work to catch up on. Because he is a sweetheart and knows how much a small gesture means to her. And cleaning isn’t just ‘for women folk’.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

Reeves gets cravings when on the road. Normally it’s for the little greasy hole in the wall place they like to get breakfast after a drunken night.

Elise likes dark chocolate Reeses.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Reeves. Again, small gestures. He knows her love language.

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Well.. they know their mothers would frown at them and tell them to get a bowl, but a lot of times they buy little personal ice screams like Ben & Jerry’s or something and will sit on the couch with their own little pint in hand. ( There are a lot of dueling spoons as they normally like to also steal from each other. ) IF they do buy a normal sized container of ice cream they’ll use a bowl because those containers sweat a lot and then start sagging. 

Elise really likes that new line of Haagan Dazs spirits collection lately. She really likes the Irish Cream and the Bourbon sometimes makes her feel really grown up in a silly way. But normally she just gets something with a lot of chocolate. Possibly with brownie or nuts.

Reeves is good with simple classics like Rocky Road ( which if it doesn’t have coconut in the formula, because some heathens do, Elise will definitely try and steal ), peanut butter cup, and cookie dough.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

They do go on a lot of simple ones like out to a bar or concert. It’s kind of his scene and she is fine with the relaxed atmosphere. Even just going out for some pizza and a movie is a good time for them. There is always something going on nearby. Sometimes it’s just an adventure down to one of the boardwalks for a few hours. ( yes, they, and by they I mean Elise’s park passes with a guest. She’s bought them for years. Before they were together she would sometimes like to just wander around and have a nice day to herself. Personal days are important. Her ex with the previous marriages wasn’t really a entertainment park person... ) 

35. What do they smell when they smell amortentia?

What equates out to Reeves aftershave, cologne, with a small tinge of his sweet sweat after a gig.

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

If we are talking secret, I guess Elise??? Because everyone knows within 2 seconds of meeting Reeves he is a snuggler.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Reeves. Elise is more likely to suffer in silence because she knew she should have brought a better coat even if the forecast said it would be fine. But Reeves can tell and will insist.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Reeves. He’s all about that touch. Elise is getting better at just doing it.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch? (Bonus: What does it say?)

Well.. Elise is the only one that might pack a lunch so I guess Reeves? if he is being a house husband for the week?? It isn’t really a thing that happens often. It’s more little text messages here and there. Cute notes are left in on bathroom mirror or on the night stands if the other has to leave while the other is sleeping. But packed lunches aren’t super a thing generally

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Reeves. Hands down. But that doesn’t mean Elise isn’t in her own way. And she is learning to be more physical in daily life.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Normally Elise is the little spoon. But if Reeves has been gone a long time or is having a bad day/upset about something ( generally not Elise related; family, friends, career related ) she’ll turn over and curl up behind him with her arms wrapped around him and her head buried into his back. Kisses planted gently on his spine. She knows when he needs some extra comfort.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

 Reeves on Elise: lips ( she does this thing where she bites her lip and it kills him ) and eyes ( he is able to understand a lot from her eyes when she just can’t get the words out ) Also her smile can make him melt.

Elise on Reeves: his confidence and sense of humor ( he is easy to her to talk to and can get her to relax and want to talk. I guess she should also add in his musical compositions with the reunion being her case and point. ) Physically it is his ass and his occasional flirtation with scruff. And of course his eyes/smile. She can also read a lot from him.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Well first off, Elise finally breaks it off with her ‘serious’ but really not that serious MANFRIEND. She knows deep down that he was mostly just a safety net/security blanket. She did care for him but nothing was ever going to come of it and she was too scared to even think about wanting more.

Reeves definitely starts visiting his hometown ( and friends ) more often as they start to work on a relationship finally.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Elise mostly just calls him Reeves. She has been known to call out a ‘babe’ ‘handsome’ ‘good looking’ just nonchalantly in greeting. Babe is probably her most popular one for him. Every once in a while she might let drop an endearment in Spanish ( especially if they have been with his family or listening to a lot of Spanish music [ she’s a pretty big Juanes fan ] which they do a lot when having Mexican. )

Reeves on the other hand is all about the nicknames. Babe/baby, sweetie, El, beautiful/bonita, mi amor, mi corozon. He uses a lot. Elise finds them really sweet and they make her smile. ( And thank GOD he stays away from things like ‘honey bunny’ or ‘pookie’ or anything related to food. Definitely not their style. )

There are times they call each other by their last names as a call back to high school.

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Elise. Over everything. She has pretty bad anxiety. Though Reeves definitely worries over Elise possibly trying to run away in the beginning. ( Though he knows it isn’t because she doesn’t feel for him. She’s just scared and not sure how to handle a fully healthy relationship. ) He knows that she needs reassurances and is worried that with his traveling she might be left with her thoughts too long and talk her out of this thing they have been circling for over a decade.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Reeves normally. Elise does start doing it more but that is more often in the comfort of their own space than in public. 

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Reeves, obviously. He had it all planned out. It was going to be all romantic and a Big Moment(tm). But he’s talking to her and watching as she does dishes and he just blurts it out without a thought. The look on his face after when he realizes what he’d done is priceless and draws an ‘awww’ from her as she takes in his upset face at having spoiled his plans. She just pulls him over and wraps her arms around the back of his neck, trying not to get soap suds on him and looking up at him affectionately, sprinkling little kisses on his lips as she tries to comfort him. But just. The look.  It's like comforting an upset baby. They were trying to walk on their own and got two steps before doing something silly and falling over and she just walks over and draws him to her as he sulks saying 'aww' sweetly and giving a sweet kiss as her heart overflows with affection at his adorably upset face.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

Reeves. Elise is a pretty private person and doesn’t have too many close friends or talk about things like feelings with her parents really. Reeves does wait until he and Elise have had time to kind of talk at least a little bit about their situation before he spills it to their old high school classmates like Jake or Scott or even Sam.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Facetime. Lots of texting and phone calls. A lot of times Reeves will call after a gig to check and see if she has actually gone to sleep or she’ll call him if she is up late and knows he probably just got off stage. 

They also will watch Netflix together if they’ve been marathoning something.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Elise. Even if it is just something as simple as Reeves surprising her with her favorite take out at work because he knows she probably skipped lunch or setting up a relaxing bath for her when she gets home from a long day or just letting her have some space to herself sometimes

[causeiwanttoandican]

I think I hear he sound of shattering glass coming from Vancouver.

The Telegraph

Kate steps up: The making of a future Queen

Revealed: The crack team building and shaping the Duchess of Cambridge's royal future

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor

7 February 2020 • 9:00pm

It has been exactly a month since Harry and Meghan announced that they were stepping back as senior members of the Royal Family. For the past eight weeks, column inches have racked up about the ‘Megxit’ bombshell and its impact on the institution of monarchy.

Yet amid all the hysteria and hullabaloo, one of its most important members has been serenely going about the business of keeping calm and carrying on.

Until now this kind of understated behaviour may have been most closely associated with the Queen, but it is her modern day equivalent, the Duchess of Cambridge, who has been quietly putting duty first with increasing visibility.

A recent UK tour to launch her landmark survey on early childhood, combined with well-received visits to Bradford and Mumbles, may at first look like Kate making a conscious effort to fill the void left by her brother and sister in law.

Yet as has ever been the case with the middle class girl from Bucklebury who married into the Firm almost a decade ago, that would be to underestimate a woman who has never made a show of her royal role.

Motherhood to monarch

Having discreetly spent the past eight years beavering away on the causes closest to her heart, Kate has finally found her voice and is determined to use it. No longer willing to be seen but not heard, sources say she is now ready to commit the rest of her working life to raising awareness of the importance of childhood - and its impact on adult life.

Although she never took the credit for being the inspiration behind the Heads Together mental health campaign spearheaded by William and Harry - having witnessed its extraordinary impact, there is a sense that the Duchess has finally realised just how much she is capable of.

“The Duchess has worked quietly away in the background for years,” said one well-placed royal insider, “And now she knows that people want to hear from her”. No longer as fearful of public speaking, and fast carving her own path out of the shadows, Kate’s landmark online survey '5 Big Questions on the Under Fives’, will mark the start of decades more work on the subject, according to aides.

“It’s much easier to speak out when you know what you’re talking about and passionate about your subject,” added the insider. “She has become an expert in early years learning, she understands the science and is respected in the sector because she has spent the past eight years working it out. But she also wants to find answers. This is about evidence based research.” The first results of the childhood survey are due next month.

Kate’s gentle yet inquisitive manner was never more on display than when she met wheelchair-bound Harvey Bentley, 90, in Mumbles on Tuesday. The warm exchange was filmed by Mr Bentley’s son-in-law Mike Sutton-Smith

This kind of reaction is certainly welcome after arguably the most testing period for the monarchy since Diana’s death. With two of the so-called ‘Fab Four’ poised to set up their own projects in North America, the focus for the Cambridges will not only be on putting duty first but in a non-partisan, but an extremely effective way.

As one observer noted: “It is a bit of a paradox, having such a naturally introverted person in such a high-profile position. I think that’s what people find endearing about the Duchess. She’s not a showy person. It’s a deeply British trait.”

And one which she certainly shares with Her Majesty who also has a quiet confidence and sense of reserve when interacting with the public.

Of course, accession may still be decades away, but preparations for the royal couple to become the next Prince and Princess of Wales were already well underway before Harry and Meghan’s move to Canada.

Yet while efforts had previously been ploughed into elevating the status of the man who would be king - there is a new, and arguably even more compelling project now fully in progress at the palace: the advent of Queen Catherine.

So much so in fact that team of academics have been drafted in to help the mother-of-three shape her royal future, with input from the highest echelons of government and even the security services.

Likened to a modern-day version of the Way Ahead Group, set up to rebuild the monarchy in the aftermath of the Queen’s ‘annus horribilis’ of 1992, the Duchess’s steering group of experts has informed her focus on early years learning and helped her to grow in confidence in her royal role.

Working royals putting duty first

As the royal couple prepare to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary next year, 2020 is set to be momentous for the Cambridges.

Projecting themselves as a family unit - and a relatable one too - has become a priority and was behind them agreeing to the prime time Christmas TV special with national treasure Mary Berry, which saw the royal couple cooking souffles while discussing the work of their Royal Foundation, the philanthropic vehicle for all their charitable endeavours.

With talk of trips to Ireland, Chile and Columbia already in the offing, and both having recently launched major charitable initiatives - including William’s Earthshot Prize - a multimillion pound project to ‘repair the planet’, the next 12 months will see the pair try to bring what one palace insider describes as the ‘calm after the storm’.

The source added: “What you are going to see with the Cambridges is a couple carved very much out of the Queen’s mould: Duty first.”

Having had three children in swift succession and with Prince George, six and Princess Charlotte, four, now in school and Prince Louis turning two in April, Kate’s priorities have shifted.

According to one well-placed source: “Over the last 12 months they have realised the potential power of their platform. They understand that by launching these long term projects they can genuinely make a big difference. They’ve been told clearly by people the impact that they can have if they pick the right spaces - things they care passionately about.”

Just this week we have seen William discuss diversity at the Baftas and his mental health initiative Heads Up, tackling the issue through football, has been well received. As with Earthshot, described by one aide as “the biggest thing the Duke has ever undertaken”, it’s about saying ‘we can do this’, rather than ‘this is too daunting’”, said a source.

“The Royal Foundation has been going for 10 years now. What they want to do is a smaller number of things on a bigger scale. For the Duchess, the early years work is something she will lead for the rest of her life. It's easy to dismiss it as nice and cuddly, but the focus is going to shift from how much childhood issues affect adult mental health and on the social side, it's as significant as climate change.”

While both projects and their recent visits to Yorkshire and South Wales had been in the diary for months, there is no doubt the ‘Sussex situation’ has escalated matters. “A hell of a lot of responsibility rests on their shoulders and they’ve just got to get on with it,” said royal author Phil Dampier. “I think they are both resigned to spending the next 30, 40, 50 years as heavyweight royals.”

A formidable asset

Government hopes are also being pinned on William and Kate flying the flag for post-Brexit Britain. The Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) was “delighted” with their highly successful visit to Pakistan last year, which helped to demonstrate the Cambridges’ worth to UK Plc. There emphasis will be on ‘youthful yet dependable royalty’ - demonstrating the power of the Royal Family both home and abroad as a formidable ambassadorial asset.

This was certainly on show last month as William hosted his first major state occasion - a reception for the UK-Africa Investment Summit - on behalf of the Queen at Buckingham Palace.

Standing alongside his wife, many royal watchers noted how much more publicly demonstrative William had become towards Kate. During the reception he was uncharacterstically nostalgic, saying: “The African continent holds a very special place in my heart. It is the place my father took my brother and me shortly after our mother died. And when deciding where best to propose to Catherine, I could think of no more fitting place than Kenya to get down on one knee.” When a wellwisher in Mumbles complimented William on Charlotte, he replied: "Yes, she is lovely - just like my wife."

And it is this kind of gentle encouragement and support which is intended to propel his wife to the next level - where her dependability turns into the kind of ‘soft power’ which can affect real change.

Or as one insider put it: "They are going to be doing what politicians can't do, with such a comparatively shorter shelf life. Only royals can think about this scale of change on a generational basis - and that is what the Cambridges are determined to bring about."

A crucial appointment for Kate will be her next private secretary following the departure of Catherine Quinn, the Oxford-educated right hand woman who has helped to chart the past two years. The Telegraph understands a replacement is yet to be found and the Duchess is continuing to be supported by her assistant private secretary and Simon Case, the former civil servant who has been William’s closest adviser since July 2018. Case previously worked for former Prime Ministers David Cameron and Theresa May and that they are taking their time, searching for someone of Case's calibre for Kate is certainly telling.

The couple arguably have another, equally pressing legacy project: the future survival of the monarchy. William has certainly been working in ‘lock step’ with his father and grandmother to find a solution to his brother and sister-in-law’s desire to leave the Firm.

The Telegraph can reveal that the second-in-line was also much more involved in the decision for the Duke of York to step back from public life last November than has previously been reported.

When Prince Andrew travelled to Sandringham to hold talks with Prince Philip and Charles - he also held a meeting with his nephew, believed to be at Anmer Hall, the Cambridge’s Georgian country house on the Queen’s estate in Norfolk. According to a source: “William spoke to Andrew for about an hour. They met separately. The Queen and Prince of Wales both agreed he should be fully involved in the discussions - he is very much a part of what has become a triumvirate of decision-making these days.”

No Fab Four Anymore

As Joe Little, editor-of-chief of Majesty magazine points out, there needs to be a shift in focus now that Harry and Meghan have handed in their notice. “Prince Charles had hoped to have a slimmed down monarchy with his own children and grandchildren as the major players, but he has had to revise that masterplan in light of recent events.

“The House of Windsor was riding high for such a long time with weddings, babies and jubilees, William and Kate have got to restore some of that magic.”

Agreeing that the Duchess’s role will be key to ensuring a modern-day monarchy is fit for purpose, he added: “There’s a mystique about Kate like there has always been about the Queen.”

While Harry and Meghan appear intent on politicising their future role, for William and Kate it is going to be all about the three S’s: stature, strength, and stability

[brightbriar-writes]

@tenderwulf tagged me!! :D

1. Do you ever make your bed?

I mean I guess that depends on your definition of making a bed??? Often by the time I wake up like half the sheets have been pushed to the side/off the bed entirely so I take a second to fix that each night, but I don’t usually bother to tuck them in or anything???

2. What’s your favorite number?

9 ^^

3. What’s your job?

I work in a bookstore! In a lot of ways it’s very on brand for me except that I haven’t read a whole book for fun for like,, two years alfjsksk (I want to though!) I’m also a full-time student studying undergrad law/music (composition for film and video games :3)

4. If you could go back to school, would you?

Nooooooooooo, I mean I had a great time in school but the restrictions on my freedom and time as well as constantly being patronised would drive me a bit insane

5. Can you parallel park?

I don’t have a drivers licence alfjskdks, I want to learn to drive but it’s just never something I’ve prioritised?

6. A job you had that would surprise people?

The bookstore job is my first job! My mum has a farm that I work on sometimes though which tends to surprise people?

7. Do you believe aliens are real?

Absolutely if we’re talking about like, microscopic organisms! As for advanced civilisations I like to think it’s possible but idk if we’ll ever cross paths with each other since the universe is so big and the balance of life is so delicate, and in the grand scheme of things our existence as a species hasn’t lasted very long, nor do we know how much longer it will last, let alone how long-lived other civilisations might be, and we don’t know if they exist at the same time as us. The universe is so big

8. Can you drive a manual car?

Actually yes!! Despite not having a licence I can drive a manual car around a paddock at like 30 km/h without any major disasters thanks to farm work lmao

9. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Bubble tea, pretty dice sets, watching vine/tiktoks/starkid out of context compilations for two hours straight in order to add ideas to my “I could make an animatic parody of this about not guilty” list and then never actually doing it

10. Tattoos?

None — I’ve been mulling over the idea of getting a d20 with the eye symbol on all the millennium items on one side for about a week, and I love the idea, but I’d get it because I’d be self-conscious/nervous when people ask what it is because I don’t exactly wear being a die-hard yugioh fan on my sleeve haha

11. Favorite color?

Purple, but like, kinda blue

12. Things people do that piss you off?

When people say they want to come when I’m organising group plans and then when we’re actually organising a time don’t respond to anything :’)

13. Any phobias?

Not really! I mean, there’s always being afraid that everyone else is moving on with their lives and I’m getting left behind because I’ve never made a major decision in my life and don’t know what I’m doing after I graduate so I just procrastinate and keep studying to put off making a real choice even though all my close friends will probably eventually leave and I don’t know how to turn new friendships into deep ones because I’m terrible at opening myself up fully due to being incredibly self-conscious about my nerdy interests even though they’re a massive part of my identity but hahahahaha it’s fine ^^

14. Favorite childhood sport?

Archery and dragon boating both slapped

15. Do you ever talk to yourself?

Oh absolutely, when I’m home alone

16. What movie do you adore?

Jojo Rabbit is a recent favourite, but I tend to get way more into series ^^ That said I know The Devil Wears Prada, Mamma Mia, and The Sound Of Music almost word for word

17. Do you like doing puzzles?

Hell yeahhhh

18. What’s your favorite kind of music?

Literally all of them, but if I had to pick three, film/video game music, disney channel original movie musical soundtracks/musicals in general, and indie not-quite-rock-but-it’s-angsty-and-the-vibes-are-there

19. Tea or coffee?

Tea ^^ Otherwise I can only handle mochas and other sweet things, straight coffee is too bitter for me :’)

20. First thing you remember wanting to be when you grow up?

A writer alfjskdks

I tag @blublubmeow @patch27 @engavaire and @impossibleclair ^^

[itstimetotheorize]

the promise will be broken! warning, 152  spoilers

sooo, lets have a little look over what has happened so far in the promised neverland as well as what may happen now that the royal family is dead

1. there is currently a gigantic army of demons searching for the cattle childrens secret tree base, and for some very odd reason, the demons actually have an idea as to where the children may be.

Whats odd about this whole situation is that the queen never ordered them to do this, she ordered them to go to different demon villages to hunt down the fake rebels Norman made her think were raiding and destroying farms. But if she didn't give the army the order to look for the children, then who did? who would have a greater authority than queen legravalima herself? could it be peter? 

it is his responsibility to make sure the demons and humans are keeping their end of the promise. So maybe he has leverage over all of the demons, this would allow him to do whatever he needs to do if it means maintaining the promise.

2. if the demons do find the tree base, the children will have already been left completely outnumbered now that all their fighters are away at the royal capital with Norman. Not only that, norman and his army are days away from the hideout so even if they do decide to head back now, its possible the majority of the children will have already been captured by the time they arrive.

 sure, Oliver and his team went back to the tree base to warn the children about the demons and prepare for any sudden attacks.

 but in all honesty, I don’t think the other children, besides the ones from the B06-32 shelter, will believe them. What makes me say this? well, since the other children are so dependent on Norman, and because Norman specifically stated no one would ever find the tree hideout, the children may truly believe they will never be found, preventing them from trying to prepare any possible escape, leaving Oliver and his team in a desperate situation to save a bunch of kids who don’t believe they are in terrible danger.  

3. despite Normans final decision to carry out his demon extermination plan, and despite the fact that Norman decided to not wait for Emma, we see here in chapter 152, that for the first time in a long time, Norman is finally beginning to contemplate everything he has done. As norman watches Vincent and Cislo approach the last member of the royal family with blood thirsty eyes, Norman does not look happy with what they are about to do, so he looks away, 

but as he does,

 Norman begins to have a vision of a child Emma and himself looking at him with sadness and grief. Of all the things Norman could have seen, the fact that he saw his childhood self look so unhappy along with Emma, could imply that Norman really didn't want to do what he did. He really did want to wait for Emma, he really did want to consider a different solution. But because of everything that was at stake, because of how lambda made him see the world, because he was so sick and tired of seeing so many children die, and because he knew he may not live long enough to see the world he had hoped to give to emma

 norman decided in the end to carry out his plan, believing that it really was the only way to save everyone. And now that the royal family is dead, Norman tries to ignore his own good conscious as he tries to reasons with the fact that despite what he has done, despite how he really feels on the matter and despite how upset he knows Emma will be, at least now he knows the worst is finally over and the future that he and Emma had hoped for can finally be accomplished....or will it?

4. Peter Ratari, a crazy intelligent and insanely destructive man who is still hell bent on capturing the cattle children and getting rid of anyone that stands in the way of maintaining the promise, has still not made an appearance and is most likely standing behind the shadows, secretly carrying out his next move without anyone suspecting him 

5. we still don’t know what has happened to sweet innocent Phil!. At this point Phil is either still waiting for Emma or worse has finally reached a point of despair that allowed the grace field employees the chance to persuade him into joining them in exchange for at least saving carol and three other kids that phil managed to stay with before being separated from the others....or he could be dead, but lets try not to think about that!

6. before queen legravalima is killed, it is revealed that she was very power hungry. And in order to become queen, she even resorted to killing her own father (the demon king) as well as her siblings. 

whats even worse is the fact that she does not take ??? reward seriously and had in fact wanted to eat Norman herself rather than giving him to ??? as an offering like she was supposed to. 

but to get away with it, she had to send Norman to lambda to give her that chance to eat him. So technically speaking,  legravalima was stealing from ??? and neglecting the demons side of the reward!

I mean, sure, she did present ??? with another offering for the tifari. But what we don’t know is whether ??? accepted it or not. The answer to that lies in the vida plant.

the vida flower is a very important part of tpn, why?,  because just as sonju explained to Emma in chapter 49, if the vida flower fully blooms then that means god (or in this case ???) has accepted the offering presented to him. But now that we know the queen was holding out on ??? by not giving him norman, the flower may have never fully bloomed for that years tifari, meaning that ??? may not have accepted the queens offering!

7. The promise specified that the demon and human world stay separated so long as neither side returns to hunting each other

however, that idea is pretty much now out the window when it came to Norman. 

back in chapter 48,  mujika explains to us that if a human break a promise then they will make an enemy of ???. If this is true, then normans plan not only  succeeded in killing the royal family but it may have also threatened to break the promise itself. If so, then ??? may just end up joining norman, emma and rays reunion at the royal capital!

8. Norman and his demon killing team are still unaware of the fact that ??? really exists. Let alone know that he is actually a supernatural god demon with the personality of a child who is crazy powerful to the point where he can even separate worlds and destroy anything or anyone that gets in the way of his reward or the promise. As i said before, if ??? really does show up to the castle after  learning that the queen denied him his reward and learning that Norman had broken one of the promises, then Vincent and the others may try to kill ??? once they see him go after Norman, however, I don’t think they will fair very well against a god deity should they decide to attack

9. we still don’t know what the reward Emma agreed to is, but considering ??? sick sense of humor, we at least know that is has got to be something very dear to her.

 emmas promise asked for all the cattle kids to be sent to the human world as well as for ??? to make it impossible for humans and demons to cross into each others worlds. Now, in order to figure out just what the reward is, first, think about emmas dream for a second. Emmas dream is to create a world where she can be happy with her family, she wants to live a life free of ever being considered food for another creature. 

Now look back at ??? idea of what kind of reward he wants from someone. No matter who it is, ??? wants that persons dearest thing as his reward. When julius ratari made his promise with ??? 1000 years ago we knew that he made the promise because he was tired of fighting with the demons, he was tired of all the sacrifice and war that came with it. 

All julius wanted was to be free from all that struggle, he wanted to return home knowing that despite sacrificing his friends to ??? he would at least have the chance to finally put the past behind him and forget about what he did. To him, that sacrifice was well worth it now that he has ensured a future for humans to live free of the demons ( this included himself). Even more shocking, is that julius ratari was even willing to sacrifice himself for the promise because even in death he would still be at peace, free from all the wars with the demons as well as his guilt over sacrificing his friends.

So.... when ??? does asks julius for his reward to separate the two worlds, what does he end up asking julius for?, 

??? decides that he wants julius to act as gatekeeper to both worlds, he forces julius and his decedents to forever be involved with the demons and have julius be plagued by the horrible sacrifice he had hoped to forget about, for the rest of his life!

??? took Juliuses desire to finally rest in peace along with the other humans! Knowing this and knowing that the only thing emma wants is to live happily with her family, ??? may have decided to take away that happiness and force her to stay with the very demons that wanted to eat her and her family, and as an ironic twist, perhaps shirai will have emma live the remainder of her life as the very creature she had hoped to save, a demon. Now is it possible for ??? to turn humans into demons? who knows...maybe.

10. Lewis might still be alive! . Lewis body was never found in the goldy pond village. Many have theorized that the monkey he was always carrying around was actually an extension of himself, and carried his real eye just as a fail safe in case anyone ever tried to kill him. He is the demon queens sister after all, so not including humans, lewis might have always been cautious about other demons trying to kill him.

11. we still dont know who mujika is, let alone why she is the only demon in history to have the power to turn other demons into non-human eaters.

12. what happened to isabella?! she was grace fields top caretaker so I don’t think they would get rid of her that easily 

13.  and last but not least, We still don’t know what the human world is like, let alone if any cattle children in the past actually managed to escape there.

so in conclusion, and per story line rules, now that everything seems to good to be true, now that normans plan seems to have succeed without an sort of problem, and now that none of the other major threats of the series have been re-addressed in a significant amount of time, then logically speaking, everything norman and emma had hoped to accomplish for all cattle children will come crashing down

[silentauroriamthereal]

This seems like fun! Thanks for the tag, @swissmissing! 

1. AO3 handle: SilentAuror

2. Ships I write: Johnlock. Oh, and maybe a touch of Freebatch. In the past I wrote a crapton of Harry/Draco and a few other scattered ships hither and thither, but these days it’s pretty much pure Johnlock over here. 

3. Ships I read: I don’t read much fanfic, but if I do, it’s definitely Johnlock! 

4. When I started writing: I don’t remember my first piece of fiction ever, but it was definitely sometime in childhood! My first fanfic was posted in 2002, I believe! 

5. First fic I wrote: In this fandom? Resurrection. 

6. Favorite fic I wrote: I really can’t say! 

7. Hardest fic I wrote: Again, I really can’t say. Different stories have been hard for different reasons. Against the Rest of the World comes to mind, just for sheer length and complexity & detail of plot, but Scars was very different to write for the emotional and physical abuse it contains. Some of the angst-heavy stories I’ve written have practically given me ulcers. Sometimes I make the cases so complicated that I have to keep a whole separate file just on case notes (witness The Bells of King’s College, which features not just six cold cases, but they all had to be related to: a) the murderer (obviously), b) each other, and c) a potential seventh victim, and d) Mary!). Bridging the Ravine features something like 21 named OCs, about 8 of whom have fairly major parts. And The Final Proof was hard as hell to write because it made me cry throughout, lol. Along with basically 98% of the people who have read it, which was sort of the point, but there you go. :P (See warnings!!!!!) 

8. Most research-intensive fic I wrote: That has to be a toss-up between Against the Rest of the World for the location research specifically, and Scars, for which I did extensive research (including interviewing three separate therapists who specialize in female->male abuse and gaslighting). 

9. Fic that is most dear to me: This is like asking me to pick a favourite among my children! Of which I now have 84 in this fandom alone! Really can’t say! 

10. Favourite trope to write: I mostly avoid actively writing tropes, though I’ve unapologetically used fake-couple-for-a-case twice now (once where it goes quite well for them (Bridging the Ravine) and once where it goes quite badly for them (The Bells of King’s College)), and smaller tropes like sexual coaching (Isosceles), bed-sharing (numerous), and then apparently I’ve used some accidentally, such as amnesia (The Wisteria Tree). Lol. 

11. Something I wouldn’t write: An unhappy or non-Johnlock ending, a version of Mary that doesn’t line up with her actual canon behaviour, fluffy familial sitcom that’s wholly out of character (which isn’t to say that parentlock can’t be IC, but it’s a stretch to make it fit with these two particular men, IMO). 

12. Favourite scene I ever wrote: I’ve just written too many to choose only one. :/ Sorry, I keep saying this! 

13. Where I get my inspiration: From Moftiss’ resolute determination to prevent these two from having an honest, direct, and complete conversation about their relationship, their history, and their feelings. I WILL make them talk, damn it! And then kiss. Like a lot. :) 

14. Hardest scene I ever wrote: There’s a rape scene in chapter 3 of Scars. I avoided writing it for days. Then, once I finished it, I remember literally just closing my laptop, standing up, putting on my shoes, and walking out of my apartment to clear my head. 

15. Favourite characterisation I wrote: Oooh. Okay, I’m giving this one to Sherlock in Against the Rest of the World, specifically because it’s told in first person, which means that I spent four solid months living inside this version of his head, and I found it very difficult to not be in it once the story came to its eventual finish!

In this fandom, I’ve now written in the POVs of 12 different characters (not counting the “characters” of Ben and Martin in my four Freebatch fics), and I’ve loved writing every single one of them, even if I don’t necessarily love the character themselves! The breakdown goes like this, though for the last two, it’s only single chapters/parts of stories, never a full stand-alone story: Sherlock (36 times, including both novels), John (37 times), Mycroft (3 times), Lestrade (3 times), Mary (3 times), Molly (twice), Rose (Rosie at age 19, once), Janine (once), Ella (once), Vee (Mummy) Holmes (once), Mrs Hudson (once), and Sally Donovan (once). 

My current project is one of my rare mixed-POV stories, heavily John-POV, but with contribution scenes from Sherlock, Ella, and Molly. 

16. Sequel I would write, if I had the chance: I’m actually somewhat planning, pending my muses’ inspiration and general whims, a sequel to Isosceles, where Sherlock and John visit Corey Graham in LA. :)

17. Story I want to write, but I don’t think people would enjoy reading: It’s so masochistic, but I never let that stop me! :P I did suppress my urge to write my first Freebatch fic (The A.G.R.A Complex) for about eight months before finally giving in. I fully expected to be shot for writing Scars, and I’m somewhat expecting people to hate my current project, but if the muses demand it, then I write it. What can you do. :P

18. A line from a WIP: I never do lines. It’ll have to be a snippet, lol. Not to channel Culverton Smith or anything... 

Ella thinks of the long story Sherlock told her one stormy afternoon only a few weeks ago, during one of the appointments she cannot, by dint of professional vow, acknowledge to John that are happening, and of the fact that Sherlock admitted that he’s never yet found a way to casually bring up the snipers in conversation with John, his hesitancy to rock the boat, the surface stability they’ve seemingly found in the wake of the events with Sherlock’s unbalanced sister. She sighs inwardly, but keeps her expression neutral. “You’re still angry about that,” she says. It isn’t a question; after all, she knows John rather well by this point.

John frowns, but nods, still looking down.

“And how has that anger come out?” Ella asks, conscious to keep her tone even. 

John’s mouth opens, his breath drawing in sharply and stopping in his chest.

19. A recent comment on a story that made me smile: That someone commented at all makes me smile! Unless it’s overt hate, I guess. :P 

20. A discontinued work I would love to finish: I have never, in my 2.1+ million words of Sherlock fiction, or 1.5 words of HP fiction, not finished a story that I started. 

21. Fic writers I admire: Honestly, for these last two, I just don’t read enough to be able to comment well on this! I also know that if I list anyone, I’ll leave out someone who really, really should be mentioned. I’ll just say this: anyone who is actively working at the craft of writing and putting themselves out there deserves all the praise and admiration in the world. Same goes for artists! You’re putting a naked little piece of your soul out there for the world to see, criticize, hopefully (but not necessarily) love, and that is SO brave! So the truest answer here is: all of you! 

22. A story I recommend: Same answer as above! I would recommend @swissmissficrecs for recs! 

Tagging: anyone who reads this post and writes. You’re tagged. :)

[daylighteclipsed]

It's so nice that you're enjoying both series!! Especially when fandom is so divided over them.

I’m over 30 episodes into 2003 now. I haven’t finished 2003 or Brotherhood yet, but I think both series are necessary to get the full experience. I see fma as one universe. Brotherhood has breadth and 2003 has depth. Brotherhood gets you interested in these characters, and 2003 (at least, for me) makes you care about them. 2003 fills in the gaps that Brotherhood leaves behind, especially in the first season like:

Ed and Al’s childhood; Ed’s journey to becoming a well-known state alchemist at 12; how the boys become acquainted with Hughes, Roy and the others; the extent of the boys’ bond with Nina; Barry the Chopper’s backstory; Yoki’s backstory; how Riza got her dog; why Al loves cats; Roy’s PTSD; Ed’s PTSD outside of nightmares; everything about Liore; Ed’s big appetite; the extent of the struggles the Ish(b/v)alans still face against racism and oppression years after the war; how corrupt the military is and how Roy and co. are not exempt from that corruption.

The Amestris military is painted in a less sympathetic light. They’re much less trusted by Ed and Al, and although that means a lot of the chummy interactions in Brotherhood are missing, I think its important to see this side of things too. I think its important to not find Roy and co. as “likable” and to see the tension between Ed and the group because Ed doesn’t approve of what they’re doing (obeying orders against their better judgments, truly behaving as “dogs of the military”). Ed often goes behind their backs to do what’s right, and I think that gives more meaning to what he chooses to wear, red and black in a sea of blue and white.

It’s uncomfortable to see characters you’re fond of in one adaptation be deliberately shown as not great in the other, but I think you need that other perspective to fully appreciate the themes of racism, genocide, fascism, militaristic nationalism trying to be told in both stories. You can enjoy/sympathize with the characters, but you NEED to be uncomfortable with what’s going on. You NEED to understand the horrors Roy, Riza, Hughes, Major Armstrong, Jean Havoc, etc. are taking part in as soldiers. You need to see that they’re racist. Even Ed is racist.

One of my favorite parts of 03 is Ed acknowledging his own inherent racism and realizing he and others have to make a conscious effort to unlearn it: “There’s something that’s had me afraid: your red eyes. The first time I saw Scar on those library steps I was scared of him. He was the first Ishbalan I’d ever seen. But now…Well, I’ve learned that you can’t always trust the way that you feel, and you can’t trust everything you’ve heard about people like me either. Not from mom, dad, because even they can be wrong. That’s why we’ve all gotta find our own answers.” 03 is riddled with powerful themes like this that give more meaning to the fma universe as a whole.

Most of all though, 03 develops and fleshes out characters and relationships that aren’t explored much in Brotherhood. Characters like Winry, Sheska, Rose, Maria Ross, Izumi, Lust, even Trisha (…all women characters, yikes). You see Winry interact with girls and have friendships with Paninya and Sheska. And you get a really cool dynamic between Al and Scar that isn’t really brought up at all in Brotherhood. The similarities between them, the unspoken understandings between them, are super interesting to watch.

Al’s character is 100 times more interesting because of 03. His struggles, feelings, and flaws are given way more attention as he and Ed more evenly share the main protagonist role. His idealism and sensitivity get him into trouble. You actually see how much being a suit of armor bothers Al, how painful it is for him, how scary. His doubting he was ever real is built up over many episodes, so when that conflict comes to a head it makes sense. Even more so because there’s already tension between Al and Ed. Their relationship is not smooth and easy. Al has issues standing up to his older brother, and Ed doesn’t really listen to him. It’s revealed Al was never 100% on board with trying to bring mom back to life. Al wants to talk about things that are bothering him, but Ed doesn’t.

But on the flip side of more conflict, you see more of how much the boys love and depend on each other. And you get an interesting look into Al’s character regarding the darker side of that love. Al admits that if Ed was killed he’d want revenge on Ed’s killer the way Scar wants revenge for his brother. He threatens to tear Wrath’s arm and leg off because they belong to Ed. That’s a side of Alphonse you do not get in Brotherhood. He’s much more human and responds to situations the way you’d expect someone in his place, at his age, would. I really didn’t care much for Al until I watched 03 tbh. He just seemed perfect to me, and his attempts to warn Ed against doing things seemed pointless because everything Ed did ultimately turned out OK. Now Al’s a real person to me.

The same goes for Ed, just less drastically because I already found Ed kinda interesting in Brotherhood. Both of the Elric brothers in Brotherhood are kind of just your ideal heroes who don’t have to develop much because they’re already, unquestionably the Big Good. Their flaws don’t create serious problems. They don’t have to learn much, and they’re not forced to change. They’re always strong, always win, always do the right thing. Sure, they could let people like Winry help out more, but its not really treated like much of a problem. They’re pretty standard characters, and there’s nothing wrong with that as long as the plot makes up for it–and I’d say Brotherhood’s plot does because I find Brotherhood really enjoyable–but I think you’re missing a lot about these characters if you don’t watch 03.

Ed in 03 has to learn to care more about others outside of his own self-interests. His arrogance as a young child is actually comparable to the Icarus myth he mentions in Liore. He’s stubborn and cynical to a fault, and he and Al butt heads because of this. His unwillingness to open up and communicate is an actual problem that’s prevalent in all of his relationships and it is not easily overcome. He’s defeated a lot, and alchemy can’t solve all of his problems. Like Al, he responds to situations the way you’d expect someone in his place, at his age, would. He cries. People don’t put up with his bullshit as often, and his bullshit has consequences. Things don’t just always turn out OK for him and everyone else. His core is challenged. His morals and goals are challenged. Like Al, the question of how far Ed is willing to go for his brother is posed. He has to sacrifice his childhood and his innocence and you really see the effects of that.

The Elric brothers are complex, human characters so their relationship is also complex and human. It’s the core of the fma universe, and I think 03 does a brilliant job of illustrating that, the conflicts and the profound sibling love between them. In Brotherhood how deep the connection runs didn’t really register to me. Watching 03 I’m like oh my god? They are bonded through soul and blood? Ed wrote that sigil anchoring Al’s soul to this world with his own blood?? They burned down their house. They are each other’s last living remnant of home. They ARE each other’s home. They really feel like all they have is each other. And you get all these really precious scenes between them, like one time they shack up with a stranger and share a bed on the floor, curled up beside each other on the mattress like little kids. The opening(s) often show them staying outside with Ed asleep against Al, which I think emphasizes the fact that home is not a place to them but a person. 

But anyway. Like I said I haven’t finished Brotherhood or 2003 yet, but I really like both of them. I think together they create one complete universe.

[arca-na-na-na]

Here’s the mess of an semi apprentice sheet. It’s long

Name: Isaura Sigrin

Favorite Food: Potato Skins (these take a couple hours to make but they are delicious. Fight me.)

Favorite Flower: Orchid

Favorite Drink: Hot Chocolate

Birthday: March 10 (I had no idea what to give her so I just did my own. I don’t really know when any of the LI’s birthdays are.)

Nicknames: Izzy, Rara

Familiar: a black fox name Koja (the name is actually a reference. Bonus points to who can get it)

Quirks: has a stutter, surprisingly affectionate when in a relationship, warm body temperature, can stand outside for the entire duration of a storm and not get sick.

Little warning here. I kinda comendeered Drakr and gave it like an image

Isaura is a mage form Drakr. She has an affinity for storms and is unusually strong in magic. Her parents are Rhiannon and Galehaut Sigrin and she has an older brother named Varian. She has never been know to react very strongly about most things. What does get her to react is those she cares for, stories, and discoveries. The reason for the muted emotions? When she was 8 she had been in the woods and had gotten separated from Fenris. A fae like monster kept out of the woods and attempted to kill her. In her panic she lashed out with a spell but lost the little control she had at the moment and it gave her lighting esque scars from the center of her palms down her forearms. It wasn’t clear if she did any damage but before it could recover from at least being phased, her father intervened, followed by Fenris. He stunned the mister again and picked her up on his horse and rode away, but the creature recovered quickly and gave chase. It was too fast to run, and they couldn’t lead it back to the village, so they had no choice to hide. They found a spot but she was panicked and crying, and Galehaut desperately tried to calm her. The creature found them from her cries. He set her down and told her and Fenris to run when they could. He acted as a distraction so she could get away. The next she saw him his body was bloody and lifeless. She blames herself for it all. She shut down for a few months afterwards, the only times real emotion were visible were at night during her nightmares. She’s self conscious about those scars and uses a talisman she tucks in this side pouch thing she has under the sash around her waist to hide them

Around the time when they were about to move, she went to her old friend Theron to tell him but they ended up in an argument and she never told him that they were even leaving. Turns out he was leaving too but to become a knight. She had another friend named Agnete Baraz who was a merchant’s youngest daughter. She stayed every summer because that was a time of highest trade and her father couldn’t keep watch on her during it. Isaura met Asra a few weeks after moving to Vesuvia. It had been in the middle of a nasty storm and he had been caught in it. He’d ended up taking shelter in the shop’s doorway and she had noticed and invited him in. They became fast and good friends.

She learned magic from her mother and combative skills from her father and brother.

She met Julian once before the plague while on a short journey with Varian. They ran into each other in a small bookshop. They had a brief conversation before he got pulled away, but during it he recommended a book that ended up being one of her favorites.

Her approach to dealing with her own problems would be to deal the best she can which usually involves ignoring them until she has a solution. When it comes to other people she is determined.

Rhiannon was also an incredibly powerful and mysterious mage (called wizards or sorcerers/sorceresses in Drakr) No one is exactly sure where she grew up and quite a few speculate that she is either fully or part fae. She had a great gray wolf named Fenris as her familiar and had an affinity for earth magic. Rhiannon got into her fair amount of trouble with her husband before his death. Fenris acted as a wolf mom to Isaura and Varian. Both she and Galehaut ended up investigating odd magic attacks that were happening near the coastal cliff region where they lived. She took her children to Vesuvia to avoid what could have been a curse but never told anyone the reason. They had been 18 and 22.

Galehaut was born Galehaut Reddenguard and served as a knight for a good 8 or so years before marrying Rhiannon. He was the third child of a noble family. His oldest brother was 9 years older than him and despised Galehaut. The middle brother was 4 years older and kind but not one for a fight. He had been trained in the ways of a healer and was loath to argue with anyone. Galehaut went to serve and became a knight in record time but avoided returning home. Early in his service a unruly lion had been transported overseas for illegal trade. His group had intercepted it with orders to capture or kill. It turned out to be that the lion was Galehaut’s familiar, whom he named Aviram. Their relationship was possible in the same way Julian has Malak without being a mage. When their parents passed and the eldest assumed the head of the house, Galehaut was disowned by him. This was around the time he met Rhiannon and when they were married he happily took her last name. He died fighting a almost fae like monster made of shadows when Isaura was 8 and Varian 12.

Varian was always kinda laid back but protective before, but in the wake of their father’s death he was almost overbearing. He has a wanderlust to rival Asra’s and those that know him well enough will joke about his current record of staying in one place (for now it’s a month and a half). Galehaut had trained him in many of the skills of a knight, which he continues to practice. He doesn’t flaunt these skills and comes as a shock to anyone not in the know. He has his father’s old dagger which is one of his most prized possessions. He also has more magical knowledge than your average person because their mother attempted to teach them but he had little interest while Isaura had a lot. He has inherited some talent for it and knows of his affinity for kinetics, something he takes advantage of in sticky situations. He has a prominent scar on his lips from childhood. Most people’s first guess is that he was in a fight. He was in a fight of some sort, but it was against gravity and a sharp corner. He was gone when their mother died and returned a week after. Isaura was unusually very emotional and he was grieving and felt guilty for not being there. They had gotten into an argument and haven’t seen or spoken since.

Other than his sister, he’s close to Cyan Baraz, older sister to Agnete. They met one summer where she stayed with Agnete. They parted ways for awhile only to reconnect years later. He found out she’d made a name for herself in the less than legal side of things.

[sexywmatsui48]

Acceptance | Chapter 12

Previously:  PROLOGUE - CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3- CHAPTER 4 - CHAPTER 5 - CHAPTER 6 - CHAPTER 7 - CHAPTER 8 - CHAPTER 9 - CHAPTER 10 - CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

This Saturday evening, when Jurina had stepped inside The Blue Moon, it was in desperate need to try and explain herself and seek forgiveness from Rena. These last couple of months, there was no denying that the 26-year-old long, dark-haired stripper had entered her life in the most unexpected way, provoking strong, new feelings. Yes, Rena was stunningly beautiful and had a magnetic personality doubled with a powerful aura impossible to ignore, but what Jurina felt for her wasn’t solely reduced to simple physical attraction as she initially wanted to believe.

Her desire to be around the stripper recently recruited by the club wasn’t either motivated by the wish to fulfill her basic, raw physical needs with someone else. She had already gone through the later with Akane for half a year, then reiterated the experience when Nana had entered her life once more. Even though it had in both cases procured her great pleasure and - for a little while - a certain feeling of self-esteem that she lacked without contest, Jurina was everything but naïve.

Deep down, she was conscious that it would never be enough.

The bond she had formed with Rena so quickly and naturally. The genuine caring and attachment she felt for her, even to the point of unleashing an unsuspected, protective side. The happiness mingled with unrestrained impatience that blossomed within her each time her eyes landed with affection on the other girl across the room and she was granted with the possibility to spend a few – admittedly always too short - hours with her.

As days transformed into weeks, then months and Jurina couldn’t resist the urge to pass that front door every weekend, she was forced to realize that, maybe, she had finally found in Rena’s presence what she had searched for during all these years of misery and solitude. Unfortunately, her profound insecurity, that had inhabited her since her early childhood and followed her ever since had blinded her and led to terrible repercussions, fragilizing and hurting her relationship with Rena in the most devastating way.

When Jurina faced Rena again at the club after two weeks of separation, she feared her words of apology wouldn’t be welcomed. In fact, she expected nothing less but the other girl to refuse to listen and turn her back on her, before wiping her out of her existence once and for all. Jurina had mentally prepared herself for such an outcome: she was also fully aware that a firm rejection from the other girl would only crush her heart and destroy her last hopes of reconciliation.

Despite it, her latest serious conversation with her roommate had been greatly revealing, making her realize that Mayu was indeed right and she couldn’t afford to give up on Rena without a fight. Because, surprisingly, Rena had accomplished what no other girl had done before her: she had turned her life completely upside down.

Not a single night passed without Jurina’s dreams filled with thoughts of her. Not a week went by without her looking forward to their anticipated next encounter at The Blue Moon. During the course of those few months, Rena had come to mean so much to her: much more than she would have ever expected. And Jurina didn’t know what would become of her if she ended up losing her for good because of her foolish mistakes. 

I accept you.

It had taken a full, long minute for Jurina to process that she had finally received what she had truly longed for: Rena’s wholehearted forgiveness. The electrifying sensation of Rena’s lips moving against her with a passion she hadn’t felt in weeks fueled Jurina with renewed hope and confidence. As a feeling of elation and relief coursed through her, she refused to let go of Rena now that she had her back in her arms, trapping her once more against the door of the VIP room.

“I don’t want anyone else but you,” Jurina reaffirmed between kisses, hearing a small whimper leaving Rena’s mouth as she captured, devoured and savored every inch of the stripper’s soft lips.

Jurina slipped her arms around Rena’s waist and embraced her tightly, feeling all her accumulated tension evaporating in an instant. Rejoicing their regained closeness and intoxicated by the mutual - almost overwhelming - fervor of their exchanged kisses, Jurina’s fingers grew impatient and refused to stay immobile any longer. While her right arm stayed secured around Rena’s waist, her left hand moved north, easily finding an opening and sliding underneath the back of Rena’s red blouse.

As soon as her fingers came in contact with the softness of Rena’s skin, Jurina felt a sparkle of desire igniting inside her. Jurina caressed and explored every inch at her disposal, venturing each time closer towards the clasp of Rena’s lace bra. Jurina showered kisses around Rena’s lips and along her jaw but soon had a burning desire, an aching need, for another kiss. Rena’s lips met hers halfway, recapturing hers.

The touch of Rena’s demanding lips sent a shockwave through her entire body, Jurina’s calm far long shattered with the hunger of her partner’s kisses. Freed from her last feeling of guilt and with no more secret separating them, it was an arduous task not to wish for more and to reclaim that body she had once possessed. That unique yet memorable night they had abandoned themselves into each other’s arms and succumbed to their desires, prey to a passion they hadn’t been able to control any further.

Yet, at the last minute, Jurina had held herself back, her fear of rejection forbidding her to cross a certain line with the older girl.

As the memory of that evening flowed her mind, Jurina fluttered her eyes open and detached her lips from Rena’s, gazing back at her somewhat uncertainly. While she tried to slow down her beating heart and regain a semblance of composure, a flicker of insecurity swept through her. Yes, Rena said she accepted her, but was she truly conscious of the implications? Of what it meant to be with someone physically different like her?

“Jurina?” Jurina jolted out of her thoughts at the sound of Rena’s small, hesitant voice, witnessing the other girl’s slightly worried expression. “What is it?” Rena’s fingers tenderly traced the line of her cheekbone.

“Maybe… Maybe we shouldn’t get carried away,” Jurina replied, dissimulating her unease behind a tentative smile. “Time is almost up,” she added, taking a step back. “And you still haven’t finished your shift tonight.”

“You’re right,” Rena sighed, leaning against the door. “But I don’t want you to leave.” Her hands moved with desperate speed, seizing the hem of Jurina’s jacket. “Will you stay? Will you wait for the end of my shift? We could go out for a drink. What do you think?”

At the hope lightening up Rena’s enchanting small brown eyes, Jurina couldn’t resist invading her personal space once more. “Where do you want to go?” she kissed her gently on the lips. “The Furukawa Lounge Bar? Or do you want to go somewhere else?”

“I don’t really mind…” Rena replied, running her fingers through Jurina’s hair. “I just want to spend time with you. So, promise me you will stay?”

“I will,” Jurina murmured, reaching up for a final kiss.

Rena clung to her, wanting the kiss to go on. “I have one last request,” she whispered, lips against hers. “When we go back to the main room, I want you to choose a table near the front stage.”

Jurina frowned in confusion, slightly taken aback by the unusual request. “Near the front stage? Why?”

“Just do it, alright?” Jurina noticed a mischievous gleam in her eyes, shivering lightly when the stripper slowly and sensuously brushed her thumb across Jurina’s lips. “I want to make sure you fully enjoy the show.”

    1:20 a.m.

Jurina watched distractedly the two strippers, Nao and Madoka, dancing together in rhythm with the loud, upbeat Japanese music, admitting to herself that it felt a little odd to be back at the club after a full month without visiting it. After Rena had discovered her physical difference - and believing to have been rejected - she was well decided never to set foot at The Blue Moon again. Yet here she was, to top it all occupying a table so close to the main stage that she couldn’t possibly miss out a single detail of the performances unfolding in front of her.

Jurina took a sip from her second beer and averted her gaze from Madoka who was now undressing and making lascivious poses in front of an attentive and enthusiastic male audience, soon sweeping around the room in curiosity. Once again, Jurina found herself impressed by how crowded the club proved to be on this Saturday evening. One thing was for sure: the popularity of The Blue Moon showed no sign of decreasing, even attracting new clients every weekend.

Jurina immediately drew her attention back to the Smartphone laying on the table when she saw the screen flashing, taking in that she had received a text from Mayu. “It looks like you’re planning on spending the whole evening at the club. Finally, you two made up. You can thank me later. I’m staying at Yuki’s, so don’t worry about making too much noise when you come home. The apartment is all yours. Make good use of it!”

“How did she…” Jurina widened her eyes in stupefaction at her friend’s perspicacity, before shaking her head in amusement at her very last words. Mayu might tend to speak her mind without filter, no one understood what she was going through better than her. Every day that went by, Jurina considered herself extremely lucky and grateful to have such a trusted and supportive friend by her side.

For a little while, Jurina played with her phone until she went through her contacts, soon pausing on the new phone number she had recently added.

+81-9092270711

Rena

A smile fell upon Jurina’s lips in at the remembrance of that significant moment when she and Rena had at last exchanged phone numbers an hour ago. As she reflected upon everything that had been shared between them in the private room – demonstrations of affection but most of all, words of forgiveness and acceptance - Jurina was conscious her relationship with Rena had reached a new level.

And she was impatient to discover what the future had in store for them.

Jurina looked up from the screen when she felt a light touch on her shoulder, caught off guard when she saw another – yet very familiar – long, dark-haired stripper standing by her table. “Nana,” Jurina whispered in astonishment, leaving her phone aside to focus on the new unexpected presence.

Truthfully, during the course of the evening, their gazes had occasionally met across the room but the other stripper had strangely always kept her distance, never approaching her once. Jurina stole a quick, preoccupied look in the direction of the dressing room, somewhat relieved that Rena was currently absent from the main room as she was getting prepared for her upcoming and last show for the evening.

“Don’t worry, I won’t stay long,” Nana rested her hand for a moment on her shoulder, caressing it gently, before slowly withdrawing her fingers. “I just came by to say hi and see if you were having a good evening.”

Although it was quite brief, Jurina noticed Nana following her gaze on the closed dressing room’s door. On further reflection, Jurina now seriously wondered if this meeting with Nana was everything but a coincidence after all and the stripper hadn’t in fact waited deliberately until now an opening to engage a conversation with her. “I am,” Jurina answered, thankful for Nana’s delicate attention. “I really am.”

“Did you manage to obtain what you desired?” Nana asked.

Jurina processed Nana’s enigmatic words, detecting the small apprehension behind them, until realization dawned on her when she remembered her previous exchange with Rena. Back then, she hadn’t paid much attention to it when Rena had mentioned it, but now it occurred to her that she was visibly missing a piece of the puzzle. “You talked to Rena, didn’t you? What did you tell her?”

Nana’s mouth tugged into a slow, knowing smile. “I told her the truth; that she had nothing to fear from me. I just hope that my words managed to reach her. Did they?”

Jurina nodded almost imperceptibly, touched that the older girl had gone to such length as to interfere in her favor. “I’m not sure why you did it but, I wanted to thank you for never treating me differently all this time.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Nana protested lightly, relief crossing her features. “Do you remember what I told you the first time we met?”

“I don’t,” Jurina shook her head no.

“I told you that you shouldn’t be so afraid of who you are,” Nana said, dropping a light, gentle kiss on Jurina’s cheek. “And now, I can tell you finally found that happiness you always sought.”

Jurina could sense by the solemnity of Nana’s words that the other girl wasn’t naïve, and she knew that their little arrangement had come to a definite end. Jurina reflected upon something to reply, and hastily caught Nana’s wrist as she was about to take a step back. “I don’t regret what we did,” she let out at last, regarding her seriously, hoping the other girl wouldn’t doubt the sincerity of her words. “Thank you for never rejecting me.”

Nana nodded and smiled, and Jurina watched her as she turned on her heels and left, vanishing from her sight and from her life.

    Hittin' me up late always be blowin' up my phone

I'm lying awake wonderin' why I'm still alone

Lord knows I am sinning, please forgive me for my lust

Sending pictures back and forth

Babe, I'm craving your touch

Jurina swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around her beer as the daring lyrics of the American song played in the air. Now, she was having a good feeling why Rena had asked her to come and sit near the stage. As soon as the lights went out and the speaker had announced the arrival of the next stripper, a boldly confident Gekikara had made her appearance clad in a long sleeve nylon fishnet and a black mini-skirt, her see through top revealing a black, lace bra accentuating the natural curves of her breasts. 

You're my new obsession

Let go of any hesitation

Baby, be my new addiction

Intoxicate me gently with your loving

From the moment Rena had begun swaying her hips in rhythm with the sensual music, she hadn’t ceased sending suggestive, lingering looks in Jurina’s direction, easily giving away her sneaky intentions. As the seconds went by and it became harder for Jurina to maintain her composure, she could tell tonight’s performance was going to be nothing like what the stripper usually delivered. By Rena’s repetitive and frequent lascivious poses towards her side of the stage, it didn’t take her long to figure out that the stripper was determined to tease and provoke her to no end.

I want to make sure you fully enjoy the show.

The following minutes were going to feel painfully long if the stripper didn’t tone down her little act, Jurina grasped as she recalled Rena’s previous words and couldn’t find the strength within her to detach her eyes from her beautifully attractive tormentor. Tonight, the proximity with the stage coupled with the special, personal attention Rena was giving her were making it hard for Jurina to control her longing, the erotic dance awakening and increasing by every heartbeat her excitement.

You got me so high

Pull me closer into you and watch our bodies intertwine

I feel so alive

You know what I'm thinking of

Got me dreamin' 'bout that sexy dirty love

Jurina’s pulse quickened as she watched the person responsible for her current agitation approaching her side once more, surprised and destabilized when Rena drew even closer and came to kneel by the edge of the stage. Jurina didn’t have time to understand what was happening that the other girl had extended her arm in her direction and caught her hand without warning, confidently guiding Jurina’s hand towards the zipper of her skirt.

Jurina’s heart beat with the pulse of the music and stared up into the eyes so close to hers, reading the silent invitation behind them. It wasn’t rare for strippers to tease the clients closest to the stage and involve them in an aspect of the choreography, such as helping them remove a piece of clothing or allowing them a fleeting caress of their naked body. But it certainly wasn’t part of Gekikara’s little routine. All the regular customers witnessing the current scene and following their interaction were perfectly aware of the difference of treatment Jurina was subjected to.

“What are you waiting for?” Rena asked, not hesitating to lean forward when Jurina’s fingers stayed motionless on her skirt, refusing to comply. “Don’t tell me you’re now afraid of touching me.”

The tone was teasing, even shamelessly flirtatious.

Rena’s hand wrapped around the dark fabric of her sleeve and Jurina shivered despite herself, relishing the contact when Rena’s fingers progressed upwards, stroking her arm slowly and sensuously. Rena’s touch numbed her senses, effortlessly shutting down Jurina’s internal voice warning her that the stripper was crossing a line by showing preference towards a client in front of an audience.

Jurina’s gaze dropped from Rena’s eyes to her breasts, drinking in the sensuality of her physique, before traveling down to that short skirt that proved to be in the way. Rena’s provocative, almost insolent, gaze was enough to weaken her resolve and Jurina didn’t waste any more time to seize the zipper and pull it down, slowly enough to give her proper time to savor the moment to its fullest, gliding her hands on Rena’s hips and caressing her thighs as she assisted her in removing the piece of clothing.

“Thank you...” The sweet touch of Rena’s lips on her cheek as she reached forward to kiss her set her aflame, Jurina not missing the promise for more in the smoldering depth of Rena’s eyes as the stripper stared back at her with naked longing.

The visual exchange was eventually broken when Rena abruptly drew away from her side of the stage and returned to the center to dance. While watching as the stripper finished delivering her sexiest performance of all times, Jurina, heart hammering against her ribs, attempted to quench her parched mouth with a deep swallow of her beer, more than ever conscious that no one else but Rena was capable of bringing out her emotions with such intensity.

    2:02 a.m.

Only a couple of minutes had passed since Jurina had left the strip club in Rena’s company when she felt small droplets of water hitting her face, instantly wetting her jet-black shoulder-length hair and blue jacket. Jurina barely had time to assess the new situation that Rena abruptly grabbed her hand, quickening the pace. Jurina didn’t hesitate to follow her as the stripper guided them in the streets of Tokyo, vainly attempting to dodge the rain as it increased in intensity by every second.

When Rena spotted a closed café in a nearby alley, she turned and engaged in it, both hurriedly taking shelter underneath the small storefront. Jurina glanced up to the dark, rainy sky of Tokyo, feeling slightly dejected by the sudden downpour. When she had left her apartment three hours ago, the weather forecast predicted nothing else but a beautiful, rainless night, and she now feared this unforeseen turn of events to have ruined her evening plans with the other girl.

Jurina took a tentative peek at the girl standing quietly by her side, taking in how her appearance had been greatly affected by the heavy rain. Her previously neatly brushed, shiny long, dark hair were damp, sticking against her face and neck, while her red blouse was almost entirely soaked, the black, lacy bra she was wearing easily showing through the light fabric of her top.

Jurina’s attention lingered despite herself to the wet clothes that clung to Rena’s body, outlining the slim curves of her chest, defining the roundness of her breasts. Despite the circumstances, Jurina couldn’t help but find the stripper feverishly attractive. When she finally tore her eyes away from the appealing view, she realized by Rena’s subtle, amused look that she had been caught staring.

Jurina held Rena’s gaze, heart pounding, trying to anticipate her next move. She watched as the other girl’s eyes searched her face, studying her carefully, as if trying to reach into her thoughts. Eventually, Rena was the first to reduce the distance between them, Jurina soon finding her mouth smothered by Rena’s warm lips. Jurina wrapped her arms around Rena’s waist, bringing her closer. Rena’s kiss left her mouth burning with fire and she didn’t hesitate to part her lips, allowing Rena’s tongue to move into her with urgent passion.

Rena’s moist, firm mouth demanded a response and Jurina returned the kiss with reckless abandon, moving her mouth overs hers, devouring its softness. Jurina stumbled back under the force of their wild kisses, her back grazing the window shop as Rena leaned into her and pressed her body further against hers.

Jurina’s thoughts fragmented when Rena’s hands wound around her jacket, finding a path underneath her wet shirt, her flesh tingling as possessive fingers explored the surface of her back. Jurina detached her lips from hers and traveled down her throat, searing a path down the creamy expense of Rena’s neck, before stopping dead when she felt the alarming, knowing bulge pushing against her pants.

“W-Wait…” Jurina gently pushed her away, disengaging herself from Rena’s embrace.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Rena met her eye questioningly for a moment before her lips slowly descended to brush hers, reclaiming them into a gentle, drugging kiss.

Jurina felt herself shiver, greatly tempted by the tantalizing invitation for more as every inch of her being craved for Rena’s touch. Rena’s fingers had now unbuttoned her jacket and were caressing her chest, before venturing down and playing around her inner thighs. When Jurina felt a pair of fingers landing on her crotch, she stiffened. The kiss was broken; their eyes locked at once.

Jurina could tell by Rena’s surprised look that the gesture had been accidental; the next moment, she slowly removed her hand from her sex. Jurina swallowed hard, gauging Rena’s reaction, knowing the other girl was now fully aware of what the partial darkness had successfully hidden until now: her growing arousal. Jurina watched her somewhat apprehensively, the memory of that day when the stripper had touched her at the same place, discovering for the first time her physical difference, still vividly imprinted in her mind.

Rena’s eyes traveled down; her fingertips approached Jurina’s pants, touching the showing bulge slowly and tentatively. Jurina noticed that Rena’s expression had considerably softened, a small, secret smile playing on her lips when she drew her hand away and raised her gaze to meet hers. “It’s alright, don’t be afraid.” Rena cupped her chin, placing a tender, lingering kiss on her cheek. “I said I accepted you, didn’t I? So, what should we do now?”

Jurina released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding; she felt her own tension dissipate as she slowly returned the smile. Jurina pushed tendrils of hair back from Rena’s damp forehead, carefully replacing and adjusting to the side Rena’s fringe that had been messed up by the rain. “Do you want to go to The Furukawa Lounge Bar?”

“I don’t really feel like going out anymore,” Rena replied, before adding tentatively. “But we could go to my place, I live a few streets away from here. What do you think?”

Jurina held her breath and briefly looked around them, noticing that the rain had by now slightly decreased in intensity, before she slowly returned her attention to Rena, seeing nothing else but the sweet temptation in her invitation. Jurina nodded, not trusting herself to speak, watching as a smile of pleasure played at the corner of Rena’s mouth as the stripper laced their fingers together and pulled her along behind her.

    Jurina was conscious that it was the first time she was standing in Rena’s apartment yet she barely took a moment to look around the place, far too distracted by the presence of the girl preceding her and leading her inside. Jurina’s eyes bored intensely into the curves of Rena’s slender back as the other girl let go of her hand - briefly listening as she informed her she would be back in a minute and to make herself comfortable in the meantime – before watching her walking away and disappearing in a room.

Despite hearing the invitation well, Jurina couldn’t stay idle and she followed Rena’s steps until she stopped in front of the room she had previously entered, her heart skipping a beat as she observed through the bathroom’s partially opened door while the stripper removed her wet blouse and approached the sink, grabbing a fresh towel within reach, slowly drying her skin and her wet hair.

Jurina didn’t know how long she stood there, staring, admiring at length the flawless body of the creature that had stolen her soul and her heart so many months ago, but her presence soon didn’t go unnoticed when their eyes suddenly met across the mirror. Now discovered, Jurina couldn’t bear the separation any longer and decisively stepped inside the bathroom, reducing the distance between them and encircling Rena’s waist from behind.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” she whispered inside her ear, before bending her head and nuzzling her nose against the crook of Rena’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of Rena’s perfume.

Jurina felt the body against hers quivering in response and she tightened her hold around Rena’s body in a possessive gesture, before placing a trail of lingering kisses along Rena’s jaw and removing a few strands of hair from her skin, kissing her way down the nape of her neck. Jurina distinguished the muffled sound of a towel dropping on the floor and she fluttered her eyes open, feeling her stomach tighten in anticipation when Rena turned around in her arms and looked at her with eyes that made her shiver with desire.

Their lips met in a hurried, hungry kiss and Jurina backed the stripper against the sink, mapping every inch of her chest with her hands, outlining the shape of her breasts, caressing their softness through the fabric of her bra. Jurina didn’t oppose any resistance when Rena grabbed her jacket and removed it with hasty fingers, listening as it fell loudly by her feet, before the older girl took a firm hold of her shirt and pulled it over her head, their lips briefly parting in the process before quickly reconnecting in a languid, exploratory kiss as soon as it followed the same path on the floor along with her bra.

Jurina stumbled a few steps backwards when the stripper suddenly placed her hands flat on her abdomen and pushed her back, out of the bathroom, heat coursing through her veins when Jurina read the burning desire dancing in Rena’s eyes. Jurina barely had time to react that the stripper’s lips had assaulted hers again, her mouth massaging hers with provocative insistence as she kept pushing her back and back, only realizing where Rena was leading her when the back of her legs hit the edge of a bed.

Jurina heard the faint, distinct click of a bra being unclasped and she shot her eyes open, watching intently as the stripper removed the straps from her shoulders and let them fall, before tossing aside the piece of lingerie. A bright flare of desire sprang in Jurina’s eyes as she stared at Rena’s exposed chest and took time in appreciating her beauty, the beautiful mounds that waited for her attention.

Jurina stilled, regarding her somewhat uncertainly while the stripper took a step back and went to lie down on the bed. Every inch of her ached with need, craved to touch that erotic, perfectly sculpted body that she had once possessed. However, a part of her feared she wouldn’t be able to stop herself this time if she let herself get consumed by her lust, already feeling her excitement increasing by every minute, the knowing bulge pushing against her pants and asking nothing more but to be attended.

Jurina swallowed a nervous lump when she saw the other girl straightening up in bed and slowly approaching her side, taking a seat by the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” she looked up to her in a mixture of confusion and concern. “Talk to me.”

Jurina knew she had no other choice but to be completely honest. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself once I start.”

A sudden, knowing look passed over the stripper’s features. “Who said I wanted you to stop?” Rena reached out for her fingers, giving them a reassuring, light squeeze. “When I said I wanted to be with you, I really meant it.”

“Rena…” Jurina hesitated. “What I meant is-”

“I know what you mean,” Rena murmured, gently placing a hand behind Jurina’s neck, pulling her mouth down onto hers. “And I want this.” Rena’s lips brushed against hers in a tender, light kiss as she spoke. “I want this as much as you do.” She reached behind her jeans and retrieved the foil package from her back pocket.

Jurina studied her in search of any sign of unease or apprehension while Rena gently slipped it into her hand, but all she saw reflected in Rena’s eyes were genuine honesty and affection. When Rena took her hands and placed them onto her breasts, encouraging them to explore, Jurina surrendered as they shared a new kiss full of passion and need, before feeling Rena’s fingers deftly unbuckling her belt and pushing her pants down, leaving her in nothing else but her boxers.

When the older girl crawled backwards onto the bed invitingly, Jurina leaned down and slowly took off Rena’s pants, discovering the sexy, black panties she was wearing, before moving onto the bed, now more than eager to worship Rena’s desirable, nude body. Jurina climbed on top of her and her gaze traveled over Rena’s face, searching her eyes, tenderly melting into hers. When Rena tangled her fingers in her hair and gently pushed her down, Jurina’s lips came coaxingly down on hers, her mouth moving over hers in a sensuous exploration.

Jurina kissed her, lingering, savoring every moment, before her mouth left hers, her lips flickering over Rena’s skin with hot desire as she traveled down her throat, tracing a path towards her breasts. Her lips continued to explore her soft ivory flesh before her mouth closed over the flower of Rena’s breast, while her hand gently outlined the circle of her other mound, feeling it up and massaging it.

The fingers buried in her hair grew more pressing, urging her to continue with her ministrations, which Jurina was more than happy to oblige. She teased Rena’s nipple with just the tip of her tongue, before her tongue explored and tasted the rosy peak of Rena’s breasts. She gently nipped her with her teeth before suckling harder, reveling in her moans of pleasure, her pleas for more.

Jurina detached her lips when Rena’s nipples firmed under her touch and she gazed back at her work appreciatively, noticing the fine sheer of perspiration that now covered Rena’s throat and breasts, before crushing their lips together, swallowing another moan. Her hand slid down Rena’s abdomen then her hip, taking her sweet time in caressing each inch of her skin, before her fingers ventured lower to her midsection.

Jurina broke the kiss but never took her eyes off the girl beneath her while she slowly explored the area between Rena’s legs, caressing through the soft fabric of her black panties. She watched with pride as Rena’s pupils dilated with unmistakable lust, feeling the progressive moisture against her fingertips as she stimulated with gentle strokes and light pressures the erogenous region.

“S-Stop teasing me.”

A small, amused smile fell upon Jurina’s lips and she knew she had played long enough with her patience. Descending her lover’s agitated body that begged for more of her touch, she marveled at the view of the sexy piece of lingerie covering Rena’s private parts before carefully sliding it down her hips then her thighs, removing it completely. When she moved back on top of her, a tremor of desire rippled through her when she saw Rena running her tongue over her lips in anticipation.

Jurina’s lips covered hers hungrily, lost again in the intoxicating sensation of Rena’s warm and smooth lips brushing against hers, before traveling her hand south and leading her fingers into the folds of flesh that hid the center of Rena’s womanhood. Jurina gently explored then dipped her middle finger into her, Rena letting out a soft, feminine moan at the intrusion, soon pushing her finger deeper inside her.

Jurina slid into her slowly and methodically, twisting and curving, stroking her inner walls, brushing against her most sensitive spot. Jurina added her thumb to the mix and rubbed softly against her clit, feeling Rena’s sensitive, tight walls relaxing, moistening deliciously around her finger, Rena’s breathing growing more erratic as she moved her finger faster and deeper inside her.

As Jurina felt her partner’s pleasure intensifying by every new stroke, she could feel her own arousal increasing dangerously. She bit down on her lower lip to stifle a groan, feeling her member hardening even more, swelling against her boxers uncomfortably and begging for attention. Jurina barely registered the feeling of a pair of fingers fumbling with the waistband of her boxers, before stiffening when Rena gently cupped her throbbing organ through the fabric of her underwear.

“You’re so hard. Come on, take it off.”

Jurina shuddered at the sound of Rena’s husky voice, feeling her resolve faltering by every second under her penetrating look. She wasn’t sure why she was still holding back; she had waited this moment for so long. Then, a part of her realized that her fear of rejection remained deeply anchored within her, and she was afraid Rena might not be completely ready for this and would regret afterwards taking the next step.

"I want to feel you inside me.”

Rena’s lewd words only served to reinforce her arousal and she knew she was on the verge of losing her sanity, feeling a new lurch of excitement within her. When Rena reached up and connected their mouths, she succumbed to the forceful domination of her lips, before swallowing hard as Rena leaned back on her elbows, her eyes slowly traveling down to her underwear in silent expectation.

Jurina brushed aside the voice inside her head, the one that had filled her with insecurities and doubts all her life, before slowly peeling off her boxers, letting the cotton undergarment fall by the side of the bed. Jurina felt a prickle of apprehension under Rena’s scrutiny, trying to decipher her unreadable expression, knowing she was discovering her unconventional anatomy for the very first time.

When Rena held out her hand in her direction, Jurina carefully got back on top of her and, as she read no sign of fear or repulsion in Rena’s eyes but only tenderness and desire, she felt an overwhelming surge of relief and hope. Jurina could feel her heart beginning to beat faster and she caressed tenderly Rena’s cheek, taking her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, trying to convey her eternal devotion to her.

Jurina kept her eyes fixed on her while she gently spread Rena’s thighs apart and pressed herself between her legs, knowing her need for her was showing when their wet parts came in contact. After putting the protection on, Jurina laid down on top of her and placed her member at the entrance, prodding against her, carefully pushing her length inside Rena’s closed folds, her member slowly working its way into her.

Jurina heard a small plaintive cry leaving Rena’s lips and felt the body beneath her tensing at the sudden, unfamiliar intrusion. At once, she stilled and paused her progression. Jurina planted little, soft kisses along Rena’s cheek, determined to reassure her, ready to patiently give her enough time to adjust to the size of her erect member. “Try to relax. I’ll be slow and gentle.”

Jurina kissed her lingeringly on the mouth while her hand seared a path down her chest. Her palms followed the curves of her breasts before roaming intimately over them, caressing her sensitive taunt nipples. Jurina could tell her soothing words and affectionate gestures were having a positive influence as she felt Rena’s body easing up, the heavy breathing against her cheek slowing down little by little.

Tentatively, Jurina began moving inside her again, slowly pushing, progressing inside her inch by inch as she felt her muscles stretching to accommodate her length. She restrained herself from going all the way in for now, knowing Rena’s insides had not fully gotten used to the intrusion yet. Jurina pulled her member out, then back in, slowly moving her hips back and forth a few times.

Jurina kept moving inside her at a slow, gentle pace for a while, relishing the delicious sensation of Rena’s walls enveloping her length, progressively giving her better and more access to maneuver inside her. Jurina felt her own pleasure and arousal increasing in intensity as she realized she had finally obtained what she had desired ardently for so long, and she and Rena were finally making one.

Jurina could tell that Rena’s initial discomfort had turned to pleasure when the moans spilling from Rena’s mouth were now sweet with arousal. Excited by her response, Jurina was driven to indulge even more in her body. Jurina thrusted a little deeper inside her, feeling Rena’s nails digging, almost painfully, into her back in reaction, until her member reached Rena’s deepest point, causing her to let out a particularly loud moan. 

Rena’s gasps and moans rose in intensity as she continued moving rhythmically, penetrating her body over and over. She increased the pace gradually but refused to go too fast or too hard, wishing to be as gentle as possible and prolong their lovemaking, ensure the moment was pleasurable for both of them. Each time Jurina slid herself in and out, she felt Rena’s uneven breathing brushing against her cheek, intermittent moans leaving her lover’s quivering lips as her arms around her back tightened their hold.

Through the fog of ecstasy, Jurina focused on how Rena’s face was bustling with her own pleasure, watched in fascination as her body writhed beneath her, matching her every movement. Her face nuzzled into Rena’s neck and she kissed the pulsing, moist hollow at the base of her throat, exploring and caressing her skin with her tongue. This body was all her heart desired, she was in supreme bliss.

Jurina felt the older girl embracing her buttocks with her legs, seeking more friction, allowing her to plunge deeper within her. Jurina’s eyes clamped shut and she groaned, her breathing haggard. She could feel the fresh rain scent of Rena mixed with the musk smell of passion that their desire had released into the air, hear the wet sounds of their bodies smacking so deliciously lewd in the bedroom.

All of a sudden, Jurina saw the body beneath her convulse and she stilled, feeling Rena’s inner walls clamp down around her member as a powerful orgasm shook her. Rena’s arms closed around Jurina’s neck and she muffled a cry against her shoulder, shuddering as waves of ecstasy crashed over her again and again.

Jurina could not contain herself any longer as she felt her own climax coiling around her throbbing member, squeezing tight, showing no mercy. Giving a few more thrusts, she buried herself inside her and let her own orgasm claim her, following her too over the edge when the wild ragged pleasure overtook her completely.

After a few heavy breathings, Jurina collapsed onto her and buried her face in Rena’s neck, listening as they both panted in raged, sated bliss, losing herself in the delicious aftershock of her orgasm. Jurina lingered inside her for a moment, feeling Rena’s grip progressively relaxing around her neck, before slowly pulling out of her. Jurina’s lips descended to meet hers and her mouth moved over hers with tenderness, witnessing the sting of tears of happiness behind Rena’s eyelids as she whispered her unconditional love for her.

[azah-awasum]

hey!! for the ask game,

general bb: 5, 12

personal bb: 8, 15

personal: 2, 14

general bb

5) favorite modern bb season

admittedly, I haven't watched every modern big brother season because I think the complex gameplay is greatly lacking. also, I may be a little biased because, before bb23, the last season I watched the feeds for and truly got into was big brother 17. I really do think that bb17 is the best modern season, even if only for vanessa. vanessa is a one-of-a-kind player and the interactions she gave us with the other houseguests were both genius and hilarious for the viewer. her messy gaslighting attempts and victim complex never really got old for me because it was completely shocking every time and, although really toxic for the other players, was a strategy we haven't seen work well before. I could go on about her forever. it was a good season overall though in personality, gameplay, and competitions.

12) favorite first boot

ashlea from bb6 but not because of her personality or anything. her eviction lit a fire in janelle and was a major reason she and kaysar had such an iconic and close bond. if she stayed I think she would have held janelle back from developing as a player so I'm glad she left first!

personal bb

8) would you be a bitter juror

unpopular opinion, but maybe! part of good gameplay is winning votes so if someone treated me poorly I wouldn't want them to win. I 100% respect good gameplay but also really despise bullies and people with weak values. I also wouldn't want someone who floated or didn't make any big moves to win either though so I would really have to weigh my options based on circumstance. if I were a player, I would view vanessa in a different light than I would as a viewer, for example, because she was toxic to a lot of people. there's just a lot of personal factors that I would account for so I may be considered bitter by some.

15) do you plan on changing the way you behave just because you're on live feeds

yeah, I probably would. I have severe adhd so I kind of just say some dumb shit a lot without thinking it through and it gets me in trouble sometimes so I would have to be mindful of that, especially since it's a social game too. I wouldn't be fake on the feeds necessarily, I'd just tone down my symptoms people find annoying by being extra self-aware. seeing people judge how kyland speaks has made me more self-conscious because he reminds me of myself and has made me realize more that people are probably annoyed with me and just don't say it to be polite so I'd probably keep that in mind.

personal

2) what is your childhood dream job compared to what you now plan on doing

I always wanted to be an astronaut or paleontologist, but now I'm currently going to school to be an archaeologist! I'm hoping to eventually get my Ph.D. but I'm not sure what I will do with it yet. Maybe being a professor or doing fieldwork, but either way, I want to do something where I can switch up what I do often because I get bored and restless easily. I really love trying to understand how humans work at a deeper level and so being able to do that through physical means like archaeology is a dream for me. I would also like to try to indigenize the field in my own way because I strongly value my Ojibwe identity and the field has been historically anti-Indigenous.

14) do you believe in astrology

yes, but not when it is limited to the sun signs or big 3. I love finding patterns and puzzles so after reading many circular birth charts of both people and events, which are basically big puzzles, I've found that it's way too accurate and has so many similar themes based on placements and aspects to be fully coincidental. I believe everything in the universe puts off energy so celestial bodies, which are basically huge masses with different energetical compositions, affects life in general and imprints us at birth. similar to how different crystals give off different energies.

[fairyshuuu]

Redamancy Pt 9

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader x Jongin Length: 3.5k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Jongin pov | Part 11 | Part 12 |

A familiar voice now sounds, completely throaty and rough. Jongin. “What the hell happened?!”

Jongin sounds furious, as he bends down over you.

Before you can answer though, shaky hands find your face, as they pull you up. Baekhyun is shivering, though you don’t know if it’s because of the cold or because of the adrenaline. Might be the adrenaline, since you are shaking slightly as well. “Are you okay?” He sounds again, peering worriedly into your eyes, brushing your wet hair out of your face.

You slowly nod, a little confused at the urgency in Baekhyun’s voice, but also incredibly grateful. “I’m fine, Baekhyun. It’s-  Aah.” You wince, as your shoulder moves back in his grip while he pulls you in for a hug.

He frowns guiltily. “Sorry.”

You just shake your head, before looking around. You were on a big raft, something that makes you gasp. When you were all still children, you had made this to cross over the rivers on the island. They still had it? A groan pulls you out of your amazement, finding Kyungsoo’s slumped form. Guilt floods you as you run over, holding your arm. Sehun is still bent over your friend, helping him sit up when you fall down next to him on your knees. “Kyungsoo? Are you-”

He looks pale, but nods, shivering slightly in Sehun’s hold. Jongin is suddenly next to you too, putting his hand on your friend’s head. “He has a fever, Baekhyun. We need to go, now.”

The oldest man nods, head nodding Sehun over too, who hands Kyungsoo to the man next to you. Baekhyun and Sehun grab out huge paddles, rowing you back to shore. Luckily you weren’t that far out. Falling back on your butt, you sigh deeply. Jongin is still bent over Kyungsoo, holding the other man’s head up, with brows furrowed.

“Jongin-”

He cuts you off then, looking you down angrily. “Why can’t you just ever stay put?!”

You blink in surprise at his tone, as you try to gather yourself again. “I didn-”

“Why would you put yourself in danger like that? Do you have any idea what that does to people?! Baekhyun almost got a heart attack when Sehun told him, and I-” He stops, biting his lip. He trails off then, bending over Kyungsoo again, checking his temperature as the other male does his best to keep his eyes open.

You open and close your mouth a couple of times, trying to get sense of what is going on, then looking at Sehun. The tallest man is looking back at the three of you with a frown. In confusion, you turn back to Jongin, and put a hand on his shoulder. He looks like he wants to shake it off, but doesn’t, when you speak again. “Wait- Sehun? How did Sehun know where I was?”

Jongin grunts, stubbornly staying turned away from you. Baekhyun clears his voice, looking over at Sehun, before catching your gaze for a second before looking away. He does speak up though, as you push yourself from the floor. “I asked- Sehun went looking for you when the guys woke up, since you hadn’t returned. He found a note on the beach.”

The wheels in your head turn as you try to sense of this information. Suddenly, you gasp. Of course. “Minseok.” How else would they have found you so quickly? And why else was the ship still so close to the coast? That beggs one question though. Where is Minseok, and where is Hook?

Baekhyun looks back at you, like he wants to say something, but then his eyes glide to your shoulder, and his eyes harden while he looks back in front with his back muscles straining to push the raft forward.

Not knowing what to do anymore, you sit back down, exhausted. Great, now everyone is mad at you. You keep your eyes on Baekhyun’s form though, as he and Sehun push against the waves. It must be hard, but you can’t push yourself up to help. Sighing, you brush your wet strands of hair behind your ears, looking around. Baekhyun looks back every few minutes, as if to check you haven’t disappeared yet. When he does, you catch his eyes, though you don’t say anything. 

It’s in these moments of silence between just the two of you that you feel like you two are explaining something to each other. What, you don’t know, but you can feel the intensity and trueness in his gaze. He licks his lips once, before lowering his eyes to his feet, and looking back in front. You pull your legs up to your chest, desperate for some more warmth as the wind makes you shiver, while you think. It’s strange to think how close you and Baekhyun were before, in comparison to now. Though he likes to pretend that you are almost strangers, even you can tell he doesn’t truly feel like that. It comes out in the moments where you do truly need him, as if he can’t help himself from ultimately protecting you. He’s hiding something, though you don’t know what. 

Something that infuriates you to no end, because you’ve missed him so much. You’ve missed his smile, missed his warm hands, his hold on your body. As you think that, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye, and see Jongin carefully put down a sleeping Kyungsoo. He looks cold, and miserable, even while sleeping, and you feel horrible. If you wouldn’t have turned away from him, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. You know Kyungsoo though, and know he wouldn’t see it like that. He would say that you did what you thought was right, and that he did what he thought was right, and that he got hurt. 

And he would be correct, but you still feel responsible. After a while, you turn to Jongin, who had come to sit down next to you. Not right next to you, but close enough that you could reach out if you wanted to. Your hands stay around your body though. Jongin still has a frown on his face, and doesn’t turn to face you. This makes you frown too though, since you don’t know what you did wrong. Jongin said you put yourself in danger, but you didn’t. Why would you? Did he really think you were that selfish, to put yourself in danger like that with no thought of the consequences?

With a huff, you turn to the tanned man, surprising him slightly. “I didn’t put myself in danger.”

Jongin turns to you, eyes flicking across your face, as his hands wrap around his legs to pull them to his chest too. He doesn’t look convinced, turning back to the front without saying anything.

You turn to the front too, ignoring his stubbornness. “I really didn’t. I was thinking, when they dragged me down the island.” This makes Jongin breathe in, worries seeping through, but you continue. “It was at the far side of the island, I’m fine. But I can’t believe you’d think that of me. Do you-” You turn to him again, weaving your hands together in frustration. “Do you really think I would do that, Jongin? Because if you do, you don’t know me very well.” You pause after that, sighing slightly. You don’t mean that, but can’t force yourself to take it back.

Jongin looks like he knows though, eyes closing as he rubs his face. “I’m sorry. I am. I was just worried about you, and angry. When Baekhyun woke us all up in panic, I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been stressed ever since. So I am sorry. I’m glad to see you’re back okay.” He huffs, before turning fully to you. “Hell, I thought I was gonna die from nerves in your place. If we wouldn’t have been in time, I don’t-” He trails off. When you catch his eyes, he’s suddenly a lot closer. He scoots closer, and you blink, slightly frozen as his hands wrap around your waist to pull you into him. It feels both comfortable and too intimate to be doing in an open space, when his thumb glides gently over your cold cheeks. “You’re freezing.”

You know you’re cold, but your cheeks feel burning under his fingers, surely bright red. His fingers don’t move from your skin though, while his free hand pulls you between his legs. “You’ll get a cold like this. Come on.” Before you can protest, he pulls you against him, arms wrapped around your back protectively, the two of you sitting like that in silence for a while.

Suddenly though, Baekhyun cleats his throat, looking between the two of you with a slight frown. He bites his lip, before nodding to himself. “We’re here.” He says, to which Jongin moves away from you, somewhat self-conscious. Baekhyun doesn’t throw any angry looks, though you can see him deflate a little, as he walks over. “Come on, let’s get you patched up.” As he places his hands under your arms, carefully pulling you up to rest against him, you wonder where the cocky asshole that told you you shouldn’t be here went. 

And even more, did he say it to tell you off or was there another reason? You let yourself be picked up by your childhood love, not having the right mood or energy to fight him about it, while Jongin and Sehun help up Kyungsoo. He looks less in pain now he’s asleep, something you are grateful for. Though Sehun doesn’t say anything, you can tell he has a lot on his mind, his eyes moving tiredly between all of the people on the raft. Baekhyun looks down at you from time to time, eyes big but unreadable, as he repositions your body to lay against him more comfortably. His sandy blonde hair is still sticking to his forehead, while his lips purse as if he’s trying to push out words that have been stuck on his tongue for too long. 

It comes out in a breathy sigh though, his eyes focusing on where he is walking instead of on you, while a blush tints his ears and cheeks a soft pink. The steady rhythm of his footsteps makes you sleepy, as your hands fist into his shirt for support, too tired to be self-conscious in his hold. When your eyes flutter closed completely, Baekhyun sighs out, letting your cheek rest against his chest gently. Like this, you miss the way he swallows away his resolve, looking back at Jongin once, before back at you, your cute sleeping face, your eyelashes, spread out over your skin. He takes long strides to the house, desperate to get you out of the cold and to treat your wound.

The door is pushed open by Baekhyun’s back, as he walks to the far end of the room right away, rushing up the stairs to his room. He looks back at the others quickly, who are already putting Kyungsoo down on the sofa. “You still know where everything is, right?”

Sehun nods, so does Jongin, though the older man looks bothered, eyebrows drawn together. Baekhyun doesn’t wait up for the others, carrying your now half-asleep body into his room and carefully putting you down. Despite how much conflicting feelings he has, seeing you in his bed still makes his heart swell. Careful not to wake you up, he pulls the blankets up to your chin. It would be best to get you out of those wet clothes, but that would have to wait a bit, until you woke up again. In the meantime, Baekhyun quickly spins around, looking for the things to bandage your cut.

You awake to dimmed lighting, and a familiar smell, surrounding you so perfectly you pause to think this must be a dream. It’s not though, because when you push yourself up to look around, a sharp pain in your shoulder has you reaching up. Your fingertips touch fabric though, some kind of gaze already binding your wound. You look around then, breath catching in your throat.

Baekhyun stands facing away from you, as he looks to be searching for something, though that isn’t what shocks you. You’re in his room. You are in Baekhyun’s room, encased in his blankets. Somehow, you hadn’t seen yourself like this after all that’s happened. You would have expected Baekhyun to carry you to your room, and that would be it. Being here now though, you can feel it filling cracks you didn’t realise you had. Baekhyun moves around swiftly, bending to yank open drawers, before glancing back at you in worry for a second. When he sees you staring, he visibly flinches, before sheepishly rubbing his neck. Very slowly, he walks over to you, and sits down on the edge of the bed, fingers picking at the blankets mindlessly. “How are you feeling, are you alright?”

You just nod, the movement making him relax just a bit.

He pauses, before taking a deep breath. “I think there’s a lot I have to apologise for.” At your silence, he nods. “And explain.”

For some reason, you don’t really know what to say to that. Apologise, sure. At the end of the day, Baekhyun was, is, right though. Maybe you minded what he said so much, not because it was unfair of him to say so, but because it was him saying it.

Baekhyun seems to notice your internal struggle, so he scoots closer, and lowers his eyes. “I’m sorry. I- A simple apology doesn’t feel like enough, does it. I acted like a total dickhead.” He weaves his fingers together on his lap, still trembling slightly.

You notice then, he’s still wearing his wet clothes. You are too, but you’re wearing a warm sweater now and since being wrapped in the blankets, you don’t feel so cold anymore. Baekhyun though, looks awfully cold. His lips are shaky, and blue, something that worries you. “Baekhyun, you should change first.”

He shakes his head then, eyes shooting up to yours. “No, I have to explain first. Please.” His voice cracks a bit at the end, as he looks back at his hands. “I- I was-”

He only looks up when he feels your fingers wrap around his slim wrist, thumb rubbing back and forward. You sink down next to him, the blankets now falling from you, as you brush some hair gently out of his face. “First go change, Baekhyun, you’re freezing. I’ll listen after, I promise. Now go.”

He lingers for a second, before nodding. You quickly turn away from him, staring out of the window instead while he peels the drenched clothes from his body. The sun is already lowering quickly, turning the sky pink and orange, and you let out a relieved sigh. Strange how small things like a sunset can turn your entire day around. Getting up from the bed, you wander to the window, pressing your fingers to the window. The island looks beautiful like this, lighting up slowly, an explosion of bright greens and soft colors as far as the eye can see. A soft voice knocks you out of your daze, though you don’t turn around.

“You still do it.” It’s more a comment than it is a question, so you let out a soft laugh, while Baekhyun comes to stand next to you.

You breathe out slowly, before looking up at his side profile, recognising the same gentle colors painted on his skin. “Four years is a long time, but it’s also… not, you know?”

The man next to you just hums, before you can see him bite his lip, his hands balling up. He then sighs deeply, before taking your cold hand in his even colder one, while you look at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just leads you to the bed, the both of you sitting down in silence. His hand lingers just a bit, before he pulls his legs up to his chest, and breathes out. He looks small and vulnerable like this. “I really want to explain, but I feel like you’ll prove to me how stupid I am for acting the way I did.” He laughs softly, the smile not reaching his eyes. “I’m just so sorry. I thought I lost you, you know. For real this time, and I-” He pauses, which gives you the chance to look at him. He’s biting his lip, chin resting on his knees, as he tilts his head back. “You get to be mad at me, because I was wrong. I just- When I heard your voice after so long, I felt like my heart might jump out of my chest. But-” He looks at you now. “But I was scared. Scared of what was happening, of what it could do. I thought that if I got you to go home, I could protect you.”

You blink once, before looking at the floor. “But the aging doesn’t affect me.”

Baekhyun nods, just a tiny movement. “But I didn’t know that.”

“But then why-”

“Didn’t I do the same to protect the lost boys? They don’t have anywhere to go. And what if they couldn’t come back after? I couldn’t do that to them against their will. You though, you have a life.” He swallows, picking at his white sweater. “One that I screwed up majorly as well.”

At that your face shoots to face him. “You didn’t.” You sound sure of yourself, and you are. “What happened was never, and never will be, a mistake, Baekhyun. I loved you. I loved you so much, you know that. How can that be a mistake? Yes, it might have never been easy, or perfect from what others could see from the outside, but it was to me. You didn’t screw anything up.”

Baekhyun blinks a couple of times, before he moves. His fingers glide over the back of your hand, with an uncertainty you’re not used to with him, before slipping his fingers between yours. He looks at you then, eyes big and deep and scared, as if he’s on the verge of losing everything, but he still speaks. “I know you loved me. I know that.” A breath. “I love you too.”

You shake your head, before falling short, freezing in place. He…. “What?”

Baekhyun breathes in deeply again, before whispering it again. “I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat, before it starts fleeing, the overwhelming feeling of waves of emotions too much right now. “You- You never say it. Never, even when we were together. Wh-”

“I couldn’t. If I wanted to return, I couldn’t make a true commitment. Peter Pan is a free spirit. I hoped that you would have known that I did.” He shrinks into himself a little, as he stares at you to gage a reaction, but you can see how much it must have meant for him to say something so big.

“I did know. I just-” You turn away from him, hands disconnecting. “Baekhyun?”

“Yes?”

“I still love you. After all these years, I still-” You turn back to him, while tears brim at your lash line. “Does that make me an idiot?”

Before you can hear an answer, Baekhyun’s hands are on your face. Brushing over your cheeks, your chin, your lips, before he softly presses his lips to yours. His lips melt to yours, as if nothing ever happened between the two of you, while warm feelings rush through you. He opens your mouth with his, hesitating ever so slightly before pulling you closer, hands sliding in your hair. “If that makes you an idiot, we both are.” You push closer to him, desperate to feel him more, closer, deeper, while your hands run over his shoulders. He groans softly, before pulling you to his chest by your waist, other hand still threading through your hair. Everything feels burning, like a drug you’ve been kicked off for so long, but God- It feels so good to taste him again. To smell his scent around you, his hands on you.

Suddenly, you break away breathlessly, covering your mouth and cheeks with your hands. “Baekhyun, I’m- I’m so sorry. I- Jongin.” You stumble, not even sure what you are talking about yourself.

Baekhyun looks to still be coming down from everything too, his lips parted and red, ears tinted bright against his light hair, before he blinks. To your surprise though, he nods. “It’s okay. I understand. I know you love me, but you love him too, don’t you.”

You just stare, not sure about anything anymore. What do you feel for Jongin? One thing was sure though, it wasn’t fair to be kissing Baekhyun like this, for both boys’ sake.

Baekhyun nods, a little pout coming to his lips, but his eyes are still bright. “I’ll be here. I’ve waited for so long to say that, now I’m not letting anything take it away. I love you. When you decide, I’ll-” He stops then, pausing to scan your face. Gently, he cracks a soft smile, while pulling your hands away from your face and brushes a strand of hair away. “Would it be cheesy to say I’ll always be there for you? Because I will.”

--

There we go!!!! Whoooww, finally some more romantic development. I hear you say already: ‘Sienna, where is Jongin? You’ve only been writing Baekhyun in the last two parts, what is this...’ and I’ll say, calm your sweet ass, there will be a lot of Jongin in the next chapter, I promise! 

If you want some more info about the aging, I answered an ask about it here. And a new moodboard for this part too!

Okay, as always thank you so much for reading!  And if you want to be (un)tagged for this series, just shoot me an ask or a message! @baekfanapleintemps @yeollieollie @kookiie-bear @very-important-army

[fatheroffive]

Hello, Mr. Uno

1. I love your name. It reminds me of another mistreated man, Benedict Arnold. 

2. Can I give you a hug?! I saw your father, whom from now on I will refer to as Sperm donor, for that’s all he really is. I felt so sad.

3. Your children are just delightful, by they’re also workaholic perfectionists. They’re pen pals with Lance Gobbo, who is the same. I see you, you love them so much!

4. Again, about your sperm donor, you gave him life again, and he abuses you again. THAT’S the thanks you get?! 

5. You’re so handsome in your Benedict form. Those glasses, the clothes you wear, and your hair. It makes you look so handsome.

6. I see you always trying to be fair and equal. I remember you giving Constance something really expensive she wanted and so the rest of them got more stuff that they wanted to match it, since what THEY wanted was all cheaper. Meanwhile, your sperm donor got you garbage, LITERAL GARBAGE when you were a kid. 

7. Also, what else happened to you during your childhood?!

8. How do you plan to parent differently?!

9. How do you feel about brats who cry that their parents are abusive when they’re not. I know a child who does this. Her name is Sabrina. Her parents spoil both her and her sister Lottie, but when she’s punished for doing something wrong, she deems them to be abusive. How do you feel about this?!

10. Who’s your favorite child?! I know you don’t show it to them.

11. Lance reminds me of your children.

12. Your children go to the same school as the Decendants of the U.S.A. I remember when Constance told Antonio politely to “Leave that man (Shylock) alone”, and Sarah, Shylock’s descendant slapped him and hurt her hand because she slapped the mirror. 

13. Your children are super smart. I heard that they’re even on the same league of intelligence as Giovanna, descendant of the idiotic Gratiano. Bruce is the smartest of them all. He’s in Mensa, right?! He is even better at chess than Giovanna is. 

14. Lenny will make for a great future lawyer. Already he is beating Portia Jr. in half of the debates he has with her on the debate team. He also beat Daniel in being a good lawyer in Mock Trial club.

15. Isabelle is an excellent public speaker and has a high vocab. She is also the best in spelling .She even beat Giovanna and Lance. Poor Lance, although he beat her in the math challenge.

16. David is a human calculator. He is amazing at math.

17. You encourage their talents. What happened when you showed your sperm donor a talent?! 

18. What was your mother like?!

Bye, I hope you answer. 

Sincerely, one of your biggest fans.

I would appreciate it if you didn’t compare me to other people with my name.

No you cannot hug me, do not call Pappy a “sperm donor”, and I do not want your sympathy.

I don’t know who Lance Gobbo is.

I would prefer to not talk about that.

You mean outside the silhouette? They are not “forms”. My silhouette is a covering over my body that gives me powers and keeps me safe.

I’m fair and equal? I’m never either of those things and I’ve never gone out of my way for anyone. The Delightfuls just get what they want because I don’t have the time nor the patience to argue with them otherwise. 6.2. Pappy didn’t give me literal garbage. I got hand-me-downs from Monty. Different thing entirely.

Nothing I want to tell you.

Differently from what? Now? Pappy? Other people? In any case I don’t care. I parent the way I parent and that’s that.

I think they need a few moments in my Delightfulization chamber.

I don’t have a favorite. They’re all equally annoying.

Again. I don’t know who Lance is, nor do I care.

These “Descendants” kids go to Gallaghar Elementary? News to me. 12.2. No. I don’t know any of these people you’re talking about.

I know my children are smart. I made them that way. 13.2. No. Bruce is not in Mensa. My children do not have time for any extracurricular activities. They come home, do their homework, chores and help me plot to take down the KND. Any extra time they have, I garuantee you isn’t taken up with extra school activities. 13.3. They’re all equally good at chess.

Lenny isn’t in any Lawyer clubs. I would be proud of him if he became one, but as I said he doesn’t have time for clubs.

Who is Isabelle and why are you telling me about her?

They’re all great at Math. I programmed them to all be excellent at school for a REASON.

I really hate that you make so many assumptions about my relationship with my children. I tell them what to do and they do it. If I told them to go jump off a bridge they’re programmed to do so. I don’t have to encourage anything.17.2. That’s none of your damned business, you brat!

Neither is that!

((I appreciate getting things in my inbox but please discuss crossover headcanons with me prior to asking Ben about specific events within them. Also please ask about events from his childhood/with Pappy before stating them like they’re fact. These things make me feel like you’re trying to force your headcanons on me.

((My Father’s Delightful Children are ran by myself and @asklenard-knd​ and all headcanons are between us. I’ve never heard of this Descendants of the USA thing you’re talking about. I will not add them into my headcanons unless it’s RPed out by myself or Olive to place any of this into his universe.

((I also find the term “Sperm Donor”, as used here, very offensive. Pappy was abusive, yes, but in Ben’s eyes he is still his dad. I come from an abusive home where I didn’t have my mother for most of my life as well and just as Canon Ben I can’t see my dad as anything less than my dad. “Sperm Donor” is a term properly used in reference to a male that leaves before a child is born and never has any contact with the child afterwards.

((The blond girl of the Delightfuls is canonically named Ashley and that is the name Ben and myself use when referring to her.

((Father is only mildly less abusive than Pappy was to him.There are many many signs in the show that say he physically abuses the Delightfuls on a regular basis. It’s shown that he always puts them down and talks bad about them and doesn’t care if they hear it. It’s also shown that he had a standard of them that’s higher than what’s logical or appropriate. He punishes them for things that aren’t their fault. He has an explosive temper and they are SCARED of him. He buys them things and does special stuff for them, not for them or to make them feel special, but to keep his conscious from affecting him. He doesn’t really care about them the way he should through the whole series. He’s a bad person. Don’t make him look like a good one. He’s going through a redemption arch here on my blog but he’s never going to be fully good. He’s always going to struggle with the idea that he’s ever been wrong. He’s going to always have a sever temper. I will never label him as good. Never.