#it works with pretty much anything scary or unattractive

[covid-safer-hotties]

we work in prehospital medicine as a paramedic in a rural area. we are very conscious of the ongoing pandemic; we are constantly bemoaning how its not over, how bad it is, how fucked up it is that we're constantly sick and that most of us have significant long COVID symptoms, how our health has never been worse. the issue is, we can't convince everyone else to take it seriously. we get constant pushback for encouraging mask use - even surgical masks, much less respirators. most people got the initial vaccine because it was required by the state, but don't get boosters and don't get their flu shots. even the providers who acknowledge that COVID isn't over and how bad it is don't bother masking. we get ribbed constantly for continuing to wear a mask, and it honestly feels very futile to continue wearing it when everyone else treats it like a punchline. we know effectiveness is severely limited when compliance is so low. especially given that we work 24 hour shifts - like, what are we supposed to do? wear our surgical masks in our bunk while we sleep during our downtime? we would always end up pulling it off by accident in our sleep. there's certainly no good ventilation for dealing with airborne illnesses. we recently had a nasty respiratory bug tear through our whole base, caused a huge staffing issue - didn't seem to be flu or COVID but sent multiple people home with very severe symptoms, and its just treated as the cost of doing business. no one wants to acknowledge it, much less change policy. "it would cause too many problems and morale issues" our command staff says.

we don't know what to do. do you have any resources you would recommend? any best practices for us when everyone else has just embraced the belief that COVID was "just the flu" and "no big deal"?

also, just exhausting to see how many healthcare providers just don't give a shit and promote anti-science rhetoric. we are so very tired.

youhavetoliveyour.life/ is a good resource to have immediate responses to several of the most common "it's not a big deal" type comments.

I also archive every plain-English (and a few en Español llano) covid resource I come across in the Covidsafe Newbies section of the official archive: https://covidsafehotties.boards.net/board/22/covidsafe-newbies

There's also news and science that I update daily, and we're over 1,000 individual articles in each section now. I do my best to keep the latest information on the site. There may be some other places to look, but here is a good place to start.

It really depends on who you're talking to and how willing they are to accept the scary reality about covid. The sad truth is so many people would rather have a million pretty lies than a single unattractive truth, let alone an ugly one. Pick your battles. Save your energy. You don't have to die on every hill, just the ones that matter.

Followers, feel free to hop in with anything you might have to help.

[loki-zen]

re: hair loss, at what point as a man should you just shave it? I have/had long wavy Matthew McConaugh-hair, and I’m decently emotionally invested in the compliments I used to get. Outside of wanting to look good to women I don’t super care though, that and that my dad always wanted to grow his hair long but it didn’t work out for him, so I’m kinda doing it for both of us.

anyway, I’m on the road to approaching the “woody harrelson at the beginning of Natural Born Killers” hairline, and it’s a struggle. Been on finasteride for like 8 months, and I’m pretty sure it’s making me depressed, plus it does weird stuff to your cum, which is both gross and frightening in its implications. I had good results with rogaine, should probably start that again, regardless of what I do.

At what point does a man become sexier with the buzz cut a la Jason Statham, every Russian guy, etc?

it’s also frustrating because there’s so many memes out there about “creepy balding guys”, like it’s just this shorthand for being a coomer or a serial sexual harasser or what have you. I could live with “ugly balding guys”, there have been times in my life when I was hot and times I was ugly, I’m able to cope with that. But creepy just really sucks. I had a lot of female friends in college, and some women I’m very close to were victims of sexual violence, and so I’m probably hyper-sensitive and afraid of being perceived as predatory in any way. It’s good that I’m aware of the problems, but sometimes I wish I was more ignorant, it’d make it a lot less scary to strike up conversations with new people if I wasn’t crushingly aware of how often women are uncomfortable with men they’ve never met.

(I’m not morlock-Holmes, but I think we have some of the same dating issues)

So first off, it is obviously wrong and bigoted to make assumptions about someone's behaviour or intentions based on what they look like unless we're talking about something very specific and intentional like 'they have nazi tattoos'. If it helps any (I'm not sure it does) I don't think that these people necessarily see a balding guy and think that's a sexual predator so much as they are doing that very schoolyard thing of "we don't like this kind of people (sexual predators) and so we're going to stereotype them as being something we think is unattractive" (you see similar things with fatness and 'neckbeards').

If it is the women you actually know who say these sorts of things (that wasn't clear), it literally might not occur to them that they're making you feel this way because it's just a general-purpose insult to them that's become detached from the actual notion of a person they might know and like who happens to be male and balding.

This sort of talk is actually, if anything, dangerous to potential victims of sexual violence, because the idea that you can somehow spot Creepy Guys and they definitely look different to anyone else will tend to help conventionally attractive guys get away with it!

I don't think there are any hard and fast rules about the hair thing. Lots of guys do look cute with a buzzcut, and it is common (but not universal) in the dominant Anglosphere culture for people to find this more attractive than even very nice hair when that hair has visible male-pattern balding going on. I confess I do have this reaction myself sometimes, but I also find that the more I get to know people the more I see the nicer hair and the less I see the "but it's balding" part, but there are levels that will always look a bit odd to me (eg the shakespeare cut). Which, yknow, isn't actually a reason why people should change their hair, though I imagine you're asking because being attractive to other people is important to you.

Your female irl friends are perhaps best-placed to approximate the sort of views that predominate among the sort of women you're likely to be trying to date, and there are now decent AI tools to give you an idea of what you might look with different hairstyles - maybe try one out, see what you think and ask their advice.

Oh, also, in my personal opinion if your hair is fairly voluminous and past shoulder length you can get away with a receding hairline a lot longer - same with certain careful short but long on top looks, although they can be more fiddly.

[survey--s]

665.

What’s something you used to believe in that you don’t anymore?  Father Christmas.

What’s your favorite dinosaur?  Stegosaurus.

Do you believe in reincarnation? If so, what would you like to be reincarnated as?  No, but if it existed and I could pick, then probably a nice, pampered house cat lol.

What are three scents that you like?  Fresh coffee, bacon, cut grass.

Do you ever use the grounding technique 54321?  Yes. I learned it in therapy and have found it quite useful in the past.

Where would you relocate if you were forced to leave your place of residence?  Scotland or Australia.

What smells better... fresh baked bread or fresh brewed coffee?  I love both, honestly. They remind me of bakeries and being on holiday.

Have you ever met a president?  I actually went on holiday with the president of Ireland as a kid. Not intentionally, we did like, this group walking holiday and she was there with her husband, oldest daughter and bodyguard lol. She was super nice and very down to earth. I actually stayed in touch with her daughter (Emma) for a while but we lost touch at some point.

Has anyone ever given you a gag gift?  Yeah. I really don't find them funny, tbh.

Do you find smoking unattractive?  Yes. It stinks.

Do you think flirting is cheating?  No. But I guess it depends how you define flirting.

Have you ever liked someone who had a girl/boyfriend?  Yes.

Would you ever take someone back if they cheated on you?  I haven't but nobody can predict the future.

What's a word that starts with the third letter of your first name?  Cookie.

How many wives or husbands do you want?  One is enough, lol.

What's your favorite color gummy bear?  Red.

What's the last movie you saw in the theater?  Les Miserables - the concert.

What color is your iPod?  When I owned an iPod it was blue.

What’s a quality that your sister has that you absolutely can’t stand?  I don't have any sisters.

Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you?  Yes, but I wouldn't do it again.

Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings?  I don't have any siblings.

Name one of your psycho exes?  Ha, Chris.

Have you ever been drunk at work?  No. I wouldn't have the balls to do that.

Have you ever taken a pregnancy test?  Yes.

How many bananas have you ever eaten in a row? I can do two if they're mashed or in a dessert or something, but generally one is my limit. I have one on toast with peanut butter pretty much every morning.

Do you have a protective father?  He was when I was growing up, but not so much nowadays.

Have you ever had to choose between two people?  I guess so.

The last thing you remember dreaming about:  Cats. But I don't remember anything more specific than that.

The last place you went:  To do two cat visits. One for Benny and one for Jess.

The last time you held a baby:  Uh, years ago. I don't really spend time with small children or babies.

What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played?  I can't think of any scary ones.

If you had the chance to slip through a portal, despite being unaware of any of the effects and/or consequences, would you do it?  No. I'm too much of a worrier lol.

When someone copies you, are you more flattered or annoyed?  Depends on what they're copying. It pisses me off when people copy my business-related stuff - especially if it's almost a direct copy. But if someone copies my outfit or breakfast order then it's just whatever, really.

Which is worse: Stale chips or flat soda?  Flat soda.

What health problems do you have?  Sacroiliitis, generalised anxiety, depression.

Have you ever had an anaphylactic reaction to anything?  No, thankfully not.

Do you have sensitive skin?  Yeah, it's pretty sensitive.

What would you name a baby boy?  I have no desire to have a baby of either sex.

What would you name a baby girl?  ...

Do people's rude comments bother you for a long time?  It depends who's saying it and why.

Name three things you find boring.  Fishing, the stock market, Bitcoin.

What excites you?  Animals, sunshine, having days off.

Would you send your kids to Sunday school?  No.

What is the most interesting biography you have read?  The only one that really stands out is John Lennon's.

Do you think your life story would make a good book someday?  Nope.

Do you buy art for your walls?  No.

Would you ever decorate a room with a travel theme?  No.

What insects do you think are pretty?  Ladybirds, butterflies, dragonflies.

Do you love God?  I don't believe in God.

Is there an ice cream flavor that you strongly dislike? Which one?  Pistachio.

Do you own any books with an image of a cat on the front cover?  I'm sure I do.

Does anything you own have an image of a bird on it?  Maybe.

Does anyone you know own a spaniel? How about an Irish setter?  Yeah, spaniels are a dime a dozen around here, lol. I know a couple of Irish setters too. Gorgeous dogs but utterly bonkers.

[wickedkittens]

No one’s really on here any more and I feel the need to put this out somewhere… so why not do it here?

It’s been about a year and a half since someone who I thought was my best friend for about 13 years of my life pretty much abandoned me at the lowest point in my life. He left me at my lowest while he was at his highest and and told me it was my doing. I don’t know I if I’ll ever be able to recover, it surely feels like that right now since it’s been so long and I feel like I’m in the exact same place I was when he left. Mentally, it feels like it was so long ago yet like it happened last week.

I closed down my business “temporarily” in 2020 until things calmed down but was never able to fully recover once we reopened. We pretty much split everything up until I used up most of my savings at some point in 2021, that’s when he said it would be alright since this business was supposed to take care of us and our future. He convinced me by constantly telling me that and I stupidly believed him. When he left I told him I didn’t know what I was going to do and he told me that I had put myself in that situation. He started and ran his business out of my home which we did not buy or pay rent for since it was passed down to me by my parents. He loves to tell people he started that business out of a closet in his garage apartment and later on a bedroom in his house but never tells anyone whose it truly was. The business grew enough to the point he felt he needed employees. I would ask him why not just get me to help him before he hired anyone else? To which he said no because he didn’t want to be my boss. He didn’t want to be his long term girlfriend’s boss despite leaving her for his employee. He later on graciously allowed me to help fold shirts and pack orders but didn’t pay me for most of it (he did eventually put me on payroll and started paying me but this wasn’t until a couple of months before he left). I did not feel the need to ask to get paid because again, I believed him when he said the business was for us and our future. I gave him the benefit of the doubt with that and so many things because I trusted him. I trusted him when they went on bike rides together, trips to the refresqueria, the grocery store for office snacks, and I trusted him all of that time he worked alone with her. He’s told everyone there was no overlap but they worked together for a year, started dating within days of him leaving and started living together shortly after that. Can I give him the benefit of the doubt there?

He never laid a hand on me but does have problems with anger and aggression. He’s thrown things across rooms, broken a tv, punched a hole in a door. One of our dogs would hide in a corner or under our bed and shiver whenever he was in one of those moods because of how scary it would get at time and looking back at it, I would kind of feel the same. I stayed away because he would get angry when I asked if everything was ok or if there was anything I could do to help. He wouldn’t say much but would make it known he was upset by the sounds he would make and how he slammed things. When I told him I spent most of my savings when I wasn’t working, he got mad. When I told him I felt unimportant, like I was put on this earth to be a side character and die young, he told me it was unattractive.

One of the last times we spoke was right before 2022 where I confronted him about his relationship with his employee. I told him I did not want to hear from him unless it was something about our dogs or when he finally decided to take accountability for what he’s done. He simply said “ok” and I haven’t heard from him aside from the one or two times he asked if something was accidentally mailed to my house. My home will never feel like my home because this home was supposed to be for us. I’m constantly being reminded of the life we were supposed to have here. I can barely afford to pay bills alone and less to fix what needs to be repaired and even less to change the furniture to make it look different from what it was when he was still here. I was with him for 13 years but I put myself in this position.

[mangodestroyer]

God, the sex life shit REALLY annoys me! Like, sure. Let's get on women for having fun, consensual sex. Let's just ignore the possibility of some man holding promotions over a desperate woman's head in exchange for sex. Let's just go ahead and reduce the accomplishments of women by objectifying them and deciding they're only good for their sexual appeal and reproductive capacity. Let's just ignore how male sex scandals are straight-up serial r*pe. Involving, but not limited to, the exploitation of minors, sex sl*ves, threats, blackmail, violence, humiliation, bribery, etc. It's not like these ideas even just affect women in power... everyday women are hurt by these ideas too. Women are shamed for pursuing or showing any capacity for having desires. Women in my age range are assumed to want to find a man and have kids. Seriously, some people think this about me despite not knowing a thing about me. It's something I think about because my brother, who has far, FAR fewer credentials than me has a much easier time finding jobs. I'm a genderqueer, childfree maybe lesbian? who wants to at least get a Master's in their field of study. I'm only just now working jobs that are cooler than retail. It probably took me getting a minor in mathematics for that to finally happen. Along with three years of experience in a retail job. Actually, I've accumulated so many fucking skills just by working/going to school.

The way feminists are often portrayed in popular media too... thing is... I'm CRAZY about women's rights! It's pretty much become a hobby of mine to study the patriarch and misogyny. I've slowly become less and less male-centered over the years. If anything, I'm a little disgusted with how a concerning number of men act (but I am still willing to be friendly with and even collaborate with the ones irl who act like normal, decent human beings). I've been addressing my internalized misogyny as well. I grew up being shamed for having emotions. Being convinced that I am ridiculous and dramatic. Something I've realized in adulthood is that I sometimes become disgusted when I see women in media cry, act emotional, or just aren't sunshine and unicorn shit at every given moment. I thought it was "poor writing" (and sometimes, it is). But then I also realized that I was projecting my trauma onto these fictional characters and not giving them room to be imperfect/have emotions and be vulnerable. Because strong female characters are also human beings and are allowed to feel helpless in unfair situations.

The point is, it's been a lot of rewiring of my mindset. At this point, I feel out of touch with a lot of people I interact with because lots of people still have unhealthy ideas that are misogynistic. Lots of people look at me like I'm rabid for challenging these ideas/questioning the status quo. Ironically, this does not seem to stop men from pursuing me. If anything, I am almost at the age where i*cels and r*dpill a-holes decide that I am "used up." I am also a bit taller than the average woman and almost weigh 160 lbs. I'm androgynous and have some masculine interests. You'd think I'd be absolutely repulsive to these men. But I STILL have tons of men, often with these concerning, traditional ideas going after me. I kind of hate it. It also disproves the idea of feminists being unattractive. Truth is, people see us as a challenge to overcome. Especially men! We're the ultimate conquest. Women who are sure of themselves scare people. Even if we articulate 20% of the words in a conversation, we are seen as "dominating" it. And we are the ones who articulate more than 20%! And if we also just aren't all that attracted to men... especially masculine cis men... that seems to scare people even more! Some men just don't like to see a woman who doesn't need them. Some men, and sometimes even women, want to break us down and "put us in our place." Because seeing someone from an "inferior" class thrive is scary to people. It's sick!

Ugh! Sorry for the rant. I've realized some very ugly truths about our society in recent years. And entering the adult world as the outcast I am has finally pushed me to confront them. Same with our politics as of late. It's nice to know that at least some people, even some conservative women, are put off by V*nce. But it's not enough to comfort me. Like you said, some people on the left also seem to buy into/hold onto harmful ideas. I've learned this for myself time and time again the hard way. I've hung around other queer people irl and they are NOT as accepting and open-minded as you would expect. You would think that other outcasts would "get it." Instead, they often seem to have this, "Fuck you, I got mine!" attitude toward other minorities when they believe they have found the things in their life that "complete" them. I've had bisexual women act uncomfortable with my homosexuality while doting over whatever man they happen to be thirsting after, while also trying to convince me that I should go find a man. In fact, some people who support homosexuality only seem to support it when it involves male characters they're attracted to. They don't seem to consider female homosexuality as a "real" thing. Other NBs invalidate my gender identity. White people who claim to be liberal act weird about me being part Native and will sometimes say racist things about Natives, while some POC seem to assume I'm some white Karen and want nothing to do with me. People are freaked out by my autism. Some people on the spectrum act like I haven't done enough to "fit in" and make it a point to act superior to me if they happen to have a larger friend group/partner. People with other neurodiverse conditions also chastise me for the way I naturally am. Some of these so-called liberals also say shit like, "I'm gay and I didn't give a fuck when gay marriage was legalized!" Like, okay? Your point? Some liberals also just don't believe me when I say we're on our way to a dictatorship/genocide. They start falling into normalcy bias and act like I'm just trying to start drama. Even when I bring up evidence from what historians have been saying about this/Pr*ject 2025/overt quotes from the politicians themselves. It's not enough to convince them to vote. Even if they do decide to vote... they think about voting third party to make a point??? And probably the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me was when a fellow liberal started twisting my words and claiming they were worried I was "falling away" and "that I'd vote for Tr*mp." The same person who was dating someone who said they didn't give a fuck about gay marriage and would probably vote third party. AND would casually say misogynistic things that were supposedly backed up by "science." Um... what??? I'm probably the last person on the planet who would have anything to do with the Orange Nightmare!

And this is what I mean when I say that I hate people. To me, it almost feels as if a lot of people just don't want to live in a decent world. Either that or I have a strange talent for finding characters. Seriously, the conservatives are already bad enough, but some liberals are a mindfuck to talk to. I sometimes have to wonder if I'm living in one of the levels of Hell and the universe is subjecting me to psychological torture. The best I can do to cope with it is by voting whenever possible and by being a hermit. Seriously, I hate that I keep finding myself going back to the hermit life, but it's the only way I can seem to find any semblance of contentment. Same with getting lost in fictional works/fantasy. I just can't constantly focus on these heavy things. I also take so many things to try and help stabilize my mood, but there doesn't seem to be a thing in this world to soothe me when I'm confronted with these things.

But at the very least, I can be happy about Kamala. Like I said, she gives me hope. I've never felt so excited about a candidate! She's one of the few people who actually seems to "get it."

I think she was President from the handshake but it's been a safe bet since she had him at "they're eating the pets!" before five minutes had elapsed.

She is eating the orange nightmare alive.

Please, please vote for this woman, Americans.

[recovery-is-an-act-of-revolution]

okay first off--- i am wholeheartedly in support of the Fact that fat people are beautiful and that thinness should not and does not determine attractiveness. BUT

i think we should focus less on “you don’t have to be thin to be pretty” and more on “being pretty does not mean anything.” we place such heavy emphasis on the need to be attractive, and i like that we’ve moved further away from “you have to fit These Specific Criteria to be attractive,” but i think people need to be reminded more often that you don’t need to be pretty at all. you don’t owe anyone beauty!! you don’t need to be attractive to have value!!

i think we should think more about why/whether or not we want to be pretty. is that something you want for yourself, or do you want it because everyone everywhere talks about beauty like it’s some great virtue instead of a completely subjective and inherently useless thing to be?

being pretty isn’t an obligation!! you don’t have to be attractive!! if that’s not something that you personally value-- abandon it! be unabashedly ugly!! be proudly messy and unattractive and okay with that!!

and i know, believe me, i know, that it’s so much easier said than done. everything around us, from books to movies to billboards to tv commercials, is so incredibly saturated with the message that you should always aspire to be beautiful. all kinds of industries make billions by selling us the notion that “you, too, can be pretty! we can make you beautiful! it will make you so much happier!” when we’re surrounded with those messages every minute of every day, it is hard. at first it’ll hurt. sometimes it hurts for a long time. it’s scary, and it’s uncomfortable, and sometimes it will seem so much easier to just go along with it, put in the work to make yourself beautiful, so you won’t have to deal with the self-consciousness and insecurity that comes with unlearning all of that. but it is so, so worth it. when you work on unraveling all those internalized beliefs, you can look at those messages more objectively and see that they don’t help you in the slightest

so don’t be beautiful. be ugly and messy and flawed and creative and kind and curious and thoughtful and all the other wonderful things you can be when you reinvest the energy you spend making yourself palatable into things that actually matter. make your own priorities, figure out what it is you really want to be, and work on that instead

[julilihatfun]

Prompty prompt: Geralt is really struggling in a battle and Jaskier can't just stand by and watch anymore, so he goes up there and kinda saves Geralt, giving him the chance to finally kill the monster...BUT Jaskier is hurt in the process which he doesn't want to admit, being the hero for the first time. He hides it until he just passes out and Geralt takes care of him, mad at himself for letting the bard get hurt, but also thankful. Sorry it's not very original, but hope you like it!

Prompt request: Jaskier hits his head and is concussed and ends up moody, disoriented, and uncoordinated, maybe a bit nauseous, but Geralt never saw him hit his head and has to find out through a careful insoection when he realizes his travelling companion is acting strangely. 

Hey guys - sorry for disappearing for a while :( Everything is just really overwhelming at the moment and well :((( but I hope you enjoy this and I really hope, that you are safe and well!!! (I combined two prompts for this, because it kind of seemed fitting)

----------------------------------------------------------------

Jaskier watched Geralt fight – at first, in awe (as always, because honestly: how can one fight so ferociously while looking that graceful), but then in concern, because the Witcher seemed to be in trouble. And that was something that Jaskier had never seen before.

The giant creature loomed over Geralts head – all bloodthirsty and monster-like – while Geralt frantically scrambled away from it and towards the heavy iron sword that had been smacked away from him a few moments earlier.

“Geralt!”, Jaskier screamed and he sounded hysterical and panicked, but he did not care at all. This was a literal nightmare come to life. 

“Stay down!”, Geralt roared, not even looking at the bard, because he was too busy dodging attack after attack.

And it did not look like the beast was getting tired. Which, in turn, meant, that staying down was not an option if he wanted Geralt to actually survive this shit.

He did not even have to think about it then – just jumped up and out of his hiding place with a loud, screechy screaming noise, that kind of betrayed his fear, and stumbled towards the fight.

He seemed to be much less interesting than Geralt (highly offensive, if you asked him – he did not wear those ridiculously colourful outfits to be ignored like this), because the huge thing did not even take one eye away from Geralts prone form.

Geralt screamed at him to ‘get the fuck back’, while Jaskier searched the forest ground for something, anything, that he could use as a weapon. He had to be fast, because Geralt seemed to come no closer to gaining back control over the fight.

“Aha!”, he cheered, when he finally found something that could work.

And throwing a stone at the creature really did seem to finally do the trick, because it suddenly turned on Jaskier in an alarming speed.

“Oi!”, Jaskier bellowed, tripping over his own feet in an effort to get away faster. “Stop.”

He was not fast enough, of course, because he felt the thing yank his feet out from under him, making him fall hard. His head was catapulted forward in a sickening motion and bounced off of the moist ground, which definitely hurt a lot.

Jaskier turned around, seeing stars dance around his vision, just in time to see Geralt (who apparently was much faster than Jaskier) bring his sword down on the beast’s neck, effectively separating its ugly head from its massive body.

Jaskier barely had enough time to roll away when the thing started falling towards him and felt the ground shake beneath him, when the monsters mutilated form came down right next to him.

He stared at the beast for a long moment in silent wonder, then his gaze swept to Geralt, who was already staring at him.

“I take partial credit for this one.”, he said then, shakily, moving to pull himself up on a nearby tree.

Geralt huffed, still eying him grimly. He growled out a clipped: “That was incredibly dumb.”, which made the bard gasp in mock-hurt.

“Geralt how dare you? I practically saved your life back there! – quite heroically, if I dare say so myself.”, Jaskier snapped back jokingly. And he knew that he would have handled the situation better had he known even the most basic fighting techniques, but he did not have any skills and stuff somehow still worked out, so he felt pretty proud of himself.

Geralt closed his eyes in frustration and heaved out a heavy sigh, before surprising Jaskier with a grumbled: “I did not say that you did not save my life.” Geralt threw him a stern look. “But that does not make it any less stupid.”

Jaskier practically glowed with glee and pride. “I can already envision the glorious ballad! Brave Jaskier, the humble bard, fearlessly throwing himself into the raging battle of-“

“Jaskier.”

“Yeah?”

“You threw a stone.” Jaskier actually saw the bastards mouth twitching in the effort to hide a grin. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Hey! I threw that stone very bravely!”

Geralt actually huffed out a small laugh then, but when he took in the bards disgruntled clothes, smeared with dirt and grime, his face grew serious again. “You went down pretty hard. You hurt anywhere?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Warriors don’t get hurt.”

“You broke a toe dancing last month.”, Geralt noted dryly. “Well, come to think of it, I guess you did not get hurt as you’d already be whining about it if you did.”

“Hey, that toe-thing hurt.”, Jaskier pouted. “I normally am very pain resistant.”

“Sure are.”

And they left it at that. Although Jaskier knew how immensely grateful Geralt really was, when he offered him a spot on Roach (which Jaskier, obviously, happily accepted).

Riding, for some weird reason, made Jaskier kind of dizzy, so he could barely force down three bites of his stew, before he surrendered and pushed his plate towards Geralt.

“Can you get horse sick?”, he asked dreamily and immediately felt Geralts boring stare on him. He looked up. “What?”

“You’re sick?”, Geralt inquired suspiciously, having been wary ever since Jaskier fell oddly silent as soon as they had mounted Roach.

“I never said that.”, Jaskier exclaimed defensively. “It’s probably the adrenaline wearing off.”

“Hm.”

“Nothing a good pint of ale won’t be able to fix, right? And a good night’s sleep – we should really think about sleeping in real beds more often. You know, to get proper rest and socialize instead of wasting away in the forest.”, Jaskier rambled on, desperate to change the subject in order to not have Geralt on his case all week because of a bit on an upset stomach.

“Hm.”

“Spoilsport.”

They separated for the night shortly after; Geralt immediately retreating to their shared room and Jaskier spending some time wooing the small audience with carefully composed songs and mirror-practiced charms. Though, Jaskier did call it a night unusually early too, having promised himself that healing sleep will free him from all ailments that came with kind-of fighting alongside Geralt.

And well, he was wrong.

He woke up to a splitting headache.

“Yikes.”, he groaned as he sat up, bringing up both hands to massage his temples.

“Had a drop too much?”

And as Jaskier thought about it, he came to the conclusion, that he actually had no idea how much he drank the evening prior – not the normal blank he drew, when the evening blurred together in a mass of pints and shots and girls and… no, this was a complete memory lapse.

To him, it was annoying more than scary, really.

“Screw you, Geralt.”, Jaskier snapped, because Geralt sounded way too smug for his liking. Also, no matter how hard he tried, he could not draw up a single memory.

“Touchy, aren’t you?”, Geralt asked with an obvious smirk.

Jaskier snorted. “Are we leaving?”, he asked then, when his gaze fell on Geralts packed bags; took in the Witcher’s general impatient demeanour.

“Yeah.”, Geralt confirmed his fears. “Took you long enough to wake.”

He looked at Jaskier for a moment, as if searching for something. “Breakfast is on me.”

Geralt’s way of showing gratitude. Jaskier knew, that he should be immensely happy, but he just felt… kind of weird and muddle-headed. Also, still very nauseous.

“I feel so loved.”, he cheered weakly, mostly out of habit. He could probably stomach some food anyways – most times, it even helped him get over a hangover.

When Jaskier had packed up and they stepped out of the inn and into a small tavern, the smell of freshly cooked eggs and beans wafting their way, Jaskier changed his mind.

“Know what:-“, he choked out, dizzily. “I guess I’m not hungry after all. I’ll just… stay with Roach. Outside.”

“Hm.”, Geralt grunted dangerously. “You barely ate yesterday evening.”

“I’m watching my figure.”

“Jaskier…”

Geralt watched the bards face take on a greyish-green hue and he grabbed Jaskiers upper arm roughly, dragging him outside, and nearly pushed him into a bush off the beaten path, away from prying eyes.

“Do what you have to do.”, Geralt said, and it almost sounded compassionate.

“I’m fine.”, Jaskier gulped, despite all logic and appearance. “Jus’ hungover or somethin’.”

“Hmm.”

“Seriously.”, Jaskier mumbled, still breathing heavily in an attempt to fight off the nausea.

“Right.”, Geralt sighed, watching Jaskiers face slowly morph into a more healthy-looking colour. “If you think so.”

“You going back in?”

“No.”, Geralt said, eying Jaskier warily. “Let’s just leave. We can eat later.”

“Alright.”, the bard sighed. His head still hurt and he suddenly felt exhausted. “Let’s, then.”

They walked towards Roach in silence and – unusually enough – it was Geralt who finally broke it, when he strapped his bag onto her back. “You wanna ride with me?”

Just the thought made Jaskier feel terribly ill again. “Hard pass.” He knew that walking would be tough on him too, but there was something distinct to the jostling motion on the horse’s saddle that made it particularly unattractive to him that day.

Geralt eyed him suspiciously. He did not often offer, but when he did, Jaskier never refused.

“You’re acting strange.”, he noted. “Well, more so than usual.”

“Ouch.”, Jaskier said, already a few steps ahead of the Witcher. “I’m great, and you know it.”

So they walked – or well, Jaskier walked. And he kept walking, even when he kept getting dizzier and more disoriented and his head started pounding in earnest.

It was when stars started dancing around his vision, that he knew that he was in real trouble. “Geralt-“, he breathed, hearing his own voice tremble and crack.

And he saw Geralt stop abruptly and turn out of the corner of his eye, before his vision went entirely black.

 When Jaskier woke up, the first thing he noticed was his still-pounding head. Then, something weird, wet on his still-pounding head. “Th’fuck.”, he mumbled in disgust, slowly moving to sit up.

“Stay down.”, a low voice growled.

“G’ralt?”

“Don’t want you doing more damage than you already did.”

“Ow.” Jaskier sat up despite Geralts warning because honestly, that’s just the kind of person he was, and one of Geralts old shirts, all wet and bunched up, fell into his lap with a splat. “Huh.”

He heard Geralt sigh. “Stubborn bastard.” Then, Geralts face was only inches away from his own.

“Uh, Geralt.”

“Look at me.” Geralt stared more intently into his eyes.

“You’re scaring me.”, Jaskier mumbled weakly. Focusing on Geralt was exhausting and the sun’s brightness was only making him feel worse.

Geralt straightened up again. “You hit your head yesterday.”

“Is that supposed to be a question?”

“Not if we both know the answer.”

“Right.” Jaskier continued squinting at Geralt. “I might have hit it.”

Geralt let out a big sigh. “Thank you for telling me right away instead of fainting in the middle of our journey.”

Jaskier furrowed his eyebrows (which made his head pound more fiercely, but well: worth it). “Are you… being sarcastic right now?”

“You were out for hours, Jaskier.”, Geralt snarled, clearly signalling that he was not to be joked with right now. “Wouldn’t wake.”

“I…”, Jaskier began, before letting his head fall into his hands. “Can we do this when my head does not feel like it’s splitting in two?”

He felt a warm hand on his back, lowering him back down, before it vanished for a second and returned with Geralts wet shirt, draping it over his face. Jaskier sighed in pleasure. The ground beside his sleeping mat rustled and he felt Geralt lowering himself down next to him.

There was awkward silence where Jaskier would normally chatter away. But he was to achy and tired to do so then.

“I should have noticed earlier.”, he heard Geralt grumble after a while, mostly to himself, as it seemed. He frowned.

“Stop, your self-pity is making my head hurt.”

“Your concussion is making your head hurt.”

Jaskier sighed, trying to snuggle closer to Geralt in search of comfort. A big hand settled on his shoulder. “Maybe that, yeah.”, he agreed, putting his own hand over Geralts.

The Witcher breathed out a gentle laugh. “Rest, Jaskier.”

[ichika27]

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun s2 ep18

Was gonna post this days ago but I decided to do twewy-related stuff first lol.

Anyways, lots of pictures below again. At least 20, I think. Talks of ships below as well.

The last time we saw them, Iruma had jumped in front of the beast preparing to shoot a blast of magic in front of Ronove. Everyone else is worried but don’t know what to do cause if they tried to help, they’d get blasted, too. It seems though that Iruma himself has a plan.

Iruma plans to use Ali-san’s ability to swallow the huge amount of magic to eat the blast of it the beast is going to release saying he thought it was possible since Ali-san is the Ring of Gluttony. Arikured is surprised by this and complains at first but agrees he could do such a thing but Iruma's strength will be needed to succeed.

Remember that spell Iruma learned before about changing the appearance of something? Iruma uses that magic spell to turn Ali-san into this... cat thing. Giant cat thing idk so it could swallow the magic. Ali-san swallows the entire beast and let it explode inside him. Once it was over, the sky clears up, too. The plan totally worked and Ali-san is full!

Does this mean Iruma could use the power that got eaten from the beasts?

Trouble is over and Iruma gets together with his friends again. His friends were all worried about him though and Kalego-sensei came up to tell him he'd been reckless again. Iruma says he hasn't forgotten about what Kalego-sensei had said before at the home visit and that he had now finally understood what sensei meant. He was so used to danger due to almost always being in one himself that he never realized how bad such situations were until everyone else he cared about got affected. He adds that he gave it everything he's got even though he wasn't sure he'd even win because he wants to protect everyone and holding onto that ideal is part of his "desire".

I’m happy this arc helped some of them grow and show the growth of those who already have. Pretty cool.

Random screenshot but I just wanna direct your attention to fluffy Kalego-sensei who is being adorable right now. I cannot take him seriously when he’s like this and even when he’s angry, this form makes it look adorable.

Back to the story.

While all the mess is happening on the surface, Kiriwo-senpai has finally been found by the Six Fingers who are there to help him escape under the orders of Baal. The other escaping inmates are also in the area but still behind bars and Kiriwo-senpai tells them that he never planned to help them escape alongside him and never said he'd do such thing in the first place.

I kinda feel bad for them but they are also bad people so, eh.

Upon donning the same coat the Six Fingers' wear, one of the prisoners had the realization that unlike all of them there who are merely "bad", Kiriwo is actually "evil".

One of the Six Fingers asked why they couldn't just let the prisoners escape, too as it'll help in causing chaos and Kiriwo-senpai answers that seeing the despair the prisoners are gonna be in when they realize they'd never be let out despite going this far will be fun to see. Plus, they're not strong enough and will be caught again anyways.

I missed seeing Kiriwo-senpai’s evil hairstyle. It’s been a while. I guess this answers the question I had back in season 1: Kiriwo-senpai chose to be evil. Sad but I should’ve seen it coming.

Back on the surface, a parade starts and on the float are the heroes who saved Walter Park. While Iruma is properly mentioned, the owner, Rossevelt also shows off his son (Ronove does call him Legend-daddy as in the English word lol). The owner thanks Iruma for saving the park and calls him a hero.

They look alike except for the mustache and hair length. Anime genetics never fail. Does Legend-daddy also sing his own bgm?

Unbeknownst to our heroes, Kiriwo-senpai is around the corner watching the parade. He's surprised to find out that not only was Iruma also at Walter Park at this time but Iruma is also the one to defeat the beast. Instead of being angry at another evil plan foiled, Kiriwo-senpai says that this must be destiny and was happy to see Iruma. He was gonna walk out into the crowd but snaps out of this happy state by a call from Baal.

Senpai really blurs the line between love and hate cause he acts similarly when it comes to Iruma. Congrats to the fans of this ship for getting this scene and also, I still don’t know the ship name for them. How do I tag this?

Back to the phone call, Baal isn't happy that the park still stands. Walter Park is created to vent out demons' evil cycle after all and he has no need for that in his goals as he prefers that the demons go way beyond the evil cycle and just become ultimately evil. Unfortunately for him, the authorities are coming and they can't really do much else so he tells Kiriwo-senpai and the rest to escape already.

After being told to escape, Kiriwo-senpai says that this isn’t the end and declares that he and Iruma will meet again as they are destined enemies.

I guess in Iruma’s harem, he’s the “enemies to lovers” love interest lol.

Iruma looks at the direction where Kiriwo-senpai was but of course, he doesn’t see anything and he’s none the wiser.

Opera gives Iruma back his backpack at the float. As Iruma looks inside for his stuff, he finds the note his grandfather gave him of things he must do on his trip with the final one on the list being "Have fun with everyone!". Iruma looks at his smiling friends and thinks that even though a lot of scary things happened today, he still did have fun with them. Aww so cute!

Iruma gets reunited with his worried grandpa who goes to the hotel to check on him. Iruma says he couldn't go home early as Ronove's dad let them stay at the hotel as thanks for saving the park. Ronove’s dad adds that they are also Sullivan's students so he's happy to give them such things. Iruma tells his grandpa that he's happy and okay and that the teachers and Opera protected them. Grandpa Sullivan decided that the three adults would be given the job of protecting Iruma from now on (and Kalego-sensei felt a chill down his spine elsewhere in the hotel lol).

These two adults are the same. They probably won’t stop talking about their kids if you’re around them. Reminds me of FMA’s Maes Hughes (thought still makes me sad).

While the teachers are discussing information about the attacks, Kalego-sensei goes to his room to find his team on the bed making fun of the stuff he said earlier much to his annoyance. The boys said wanted to stay in the teachers' room as it's better than the room they got but Kalego-sensei quickly kicks them out.

The girls also get rewards and are allowed to get any clothes they wanted which made them happy. Ronove’s dad is pretty generous, huh? Like, I know these guys deserve it for all their hard work but the guy looks so happy that he’d probably still be nice to them even without all the trouble happening.

They are all also given an all-you-can-eat buffet. Iruma eats a ton of food obviously. Clara is having fun at the chocolate fountain thing and Ronove is trying to make Agares eat. Those two got close, huh? lol I wonder if Ronove’s doing this to try and make Agares unattractive or something. It’ll be cool if they became friends though with their very contrasting personalities and all.

While everyone is having fun inside, Iruma leaves without anyone else realizing except for Ameri who decides to follow. They end up at the rooftop by themselves with Ameri trying to calm herself down as she's thinking of romantic stuff as it’s just the two of them. Iruma then reminds Ameri of the question she asked him before about his goal and tells her he finally found one: he wants have fun with everyone. He's willing to change in order to be able to protect that ideal of his. Ameri is happy to see Iruma has grown.

Ameri decided that she also wants to give it her all for her own desires and ambitions. She then tries to tell Iruma something but sadly she gets cockblocked by Clara and Azz both appearing. Ameri gives up for now and tells Iruma to just go with his friends.

Before leaving, Iruma asks Ameri a question - the same thing she was going to ask him earlier! He asks if they could hang out sometimes but just the two of them and she passes out from this lol.

Congratulations to Iruma x Ameri fans for getting a scene like this, too. I also don’t know the ship name for them. Anyways, why is it just the senpais getting a moment with Iruma? Ameri has been getting a lot of moments, too and it’s making me wonder if she’s endgame.

lol also, Ameri is worried about the other female rivals not realizing there’s another threat somewhere else.

While all that teen drama is happening, both Romiere's dad and Iruma's grandpa are being interviewed on tv. The two men then tell everyone how their kids and those kids' friends are the heroes of Walter Park. Since Iruma's name had been specifically mentioned (with everyone knowing the heroes are "Iruma and friends"), there ends up being reporters outside the hotel wanting to see Iruma the next day. Iruma, of course, doesn't like this popularity. With the thought that there may also be reporters waiting at his home, Clara offers to let Iruma stay at her house.

Oooh... will we finally get Iruma x Clara and Iruma x Azz moments as well? Hehehe

There's something new in the ED video by the way! This used to be for Kuromu but now it’s for these boys! Cute!

---

I’m guessing this is the end of this arc? I wonder what the last one will be since we only have like, what, 6 episodes more? What kind of arc will it be, I wonder cause this one had battles.

Okay, the end where the heroes are mentioned to be “Iruma and friends”, I’m happy and surprised that none of the others were bothered by this at all. No one complained about why Iruma is the only one specifically named. It didn’t cause a fight between the entire group unlike what would’ve happened if this was any other story. I get why Iruma got proper credit as he is the one to end the incident and saved everyone around from being fried but his friends did a lot of work, too and it’d have been better if they were all credited properly in the news. None of them were mad though and are happy that they won because they did their best.

Ronove calling his dad “Legend-daddy” will never not be cute and funny to me. His dad, despite being rich enough to own this entire park, isn’t an annoying, arrogant asshole and I like that. I’m happy that most characters in this show subvert my expectations and they make me like them more.

I’m sorry if I don’t tag ships in my mairuma posts but I don’t know any of the series’ ship names lol. Speaking of ships, as I mentioned before, Ameri’s been getting a lot of moments with Iruma or focus on her growing feelings for Iruma. Kiriwo-senpai only showed up a bit in this arc and got a bit for himself, too. Kuromu and Clara only had a bit when Iruma went evil cycle and I wonder if they’d get more, too. I personally ship him with Azz so I wish they’d gets some moments as well. Eiko gets hers mostly on the “Interval” segments.

So... is it possible to have a mairuma dating sim or not? Look at how many routes are available! XD

Anyways, focus next time is on Clara’s family probably with Iruma spending time there. I expect another Valac Family musical! XD

Thanks for reading!

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Gray wakes up one night with a voice in his head, the last thing he expects is to suddenly be sharing a body with a demon. Natsu is nothing like Gray expected, though. He's surprisingly charming, and more concerned about getting Gray to eat vegetables than he is with taking over the world. Since Gray can't push him away like he does with everyone else, he begrudgingly accepts Natsu's place in his life - for now. But when Natsu ends up needing Gray's help, what started out as an inconvenience turns into a road trip - and a friendship - that changes Gray's life.

written for @fuckyeahgratsu​ gratsu weekend 2021 event

day 1; prompt: first

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Lyon Vastia, Mard Geer Tartarus Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Humor, Adventure, Demonic Possession, but the good kind, demon Natsu, References to Depression, Depressed Gray, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Road Trips, Falling In Love, Natsu's not an evil demon, he really just wants to take care of Gray, Gray sucks at feelings

-----

“Wake up.”

The words drifted through Gray’s dream, breaking up the strange carnival music that had been playing in the background. He could feel the images dissolving around him and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to stay asleep.

“Hey! Wake up.”

The edges of the dream blurred and then slipped away entirely, leaving Gray miserably awake with a pounding headache. He sighed, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes. The room was still dark, and when he glanced at his phone, he realized it wasn’t even two in the morning.

Continue reading on AO3

“Fucking hell,” he grumbled, pushing himself up and swinging his legs out of bed. He stumbled to the bathroom, grabbing the bottle of aspirin and tossing two back before leaning forward and staring blearily into the mirror. There was a soft meow behind him as the bathroom door opened wider, dragging a bright line of moonlight with it. It cast a strange shadow along the wall and lit up Gray’s reflection with an eerie glow.

“Finally, you’re awake!”

The voice that filled Gray’s head was bright and wild, and for some reason it made Gray think of a matchbook. It curled around his senses, filling him with a strange sense of warmth. He frowned at his reflection. Something wasn’t quite right.

“What the…” Gray leaned in further, running his fingers underneath his left eye. The iris, normally a deep blue-black, was shimmering. Gray blinked a few times, then groaned and rubbed his face. “Lyon, you stupid fuck, what the hell did you put in my drink?”

He stood there for a minute, hand over his eyes, until his hazy brain caught up with the fact that someone else had been talking, and he lived alone.

“Happy?” He frowned at the cat that had padded into the bathroom and was now sitting on the back of the toilet, staring at Gray. “Did you…”

“I’m not gonna lie,” the voice interrupted again. “I’m really, really tempted to let you think that your cat can talk.”

Gray jerked back from Happy and glanced around the bathroom. There was nothing around except the two of them and the moonlight, but he flicked the light on just in case. The only thing that greeted him was his reflection – messy hair, lines on his cheek from the pillowcase, and one glowing eye.

What the fuck?

“I…” He frowned, rubbing his face and blinking a few times. The eye kept glowing. He could feel something behind it – something in his mind, wriggling around like a memory he couldn’t quite find. “What?”

“Are you always this eloquent?”

“It’s two in the fucking morning,” he snapped irritably, then ran both hands over his face. “Am I dreaming?”

“Are you gonna believe me if I say no?” Gray could hear a laugh coloring the voice this time.

“Who are you?” he demanded, looking back out into the bedroom. Nothing greeted him but the empty bed, piles of books, and several cups of cold coffee.

“Look in the mirror.” Gray’s gaze flicked back to his reflection. “Closer,” the voice said, and despite his brain screaming at him that it was a terrible idea, Gray leaned in.

His reflection wobbled for a second – like the surface of a lake after a rock had been thrown. Then the features on the left half of his face started to shift. The glowing eye turned a soft shade of green and changed shape, slanting upward, and a wave of freckles rippled out across his cheek. The piece of hair that hung in his face started to curl and shifted from black to a soft pink. His teeth sharpened into fangs, and his lip quirked up into a smile that Gray definitely wasn’t controlling.

“How high am I?” he murmured, touching his teeth to ensure that they were not, in fact, sharp. “I’m gonna kill Lyon.”

“Is that the kid with the white hair?”

Gray nodded absently.

“He didn’t give you anything. He’s a punk-ass bitch who waters down his liquor.” There was a pause, and then the voice added, “And he’s a fucking terrible warlock.”

“A… what?” Gray was only half paying attention to the words. The rest of his focus was still on the way that his reflection was shifting and changing. The right half of the mirror was still him – messy hair, tattooed chest, pierced ear, black boxers. But the left half was quickly becoming something more… Gray wasn’t sure what word to use for it.

“Warlock,” the voice repeated. Gray’s left eye rolled itself in the reflection. He blinked a few times and shook his head.

“You mean that Ouija board shit?” he asked.

Slowly, the left half of Gray’s reflection separated, shimmering and then coalescing into the form of a young man standing just behind him. Gray looked over his shoulder to the empty washroom, then back at the mirror. The man waved at him and gave him a cheeky grin.

“I’m Natsu.”

Gray blinked a few times, rubbing his temples to try and relieve his throbbing headache. Natsu, who was now almost entirely solid in the reflection, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. He looked about the same age as Gray, with black tattoos that twisted around his arms and up his neck. His cheeks and temples were smattered with what looked like scales, and his wild pink hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck.

Fuck, he was hot.

“Do you have a name?” Natsu prompted, giving Gray a grin that showed off his pointy teeth.  

“Um.” Gray’s brain blipped and he frowned and blinked at the same time, making what he assumed was an extremely unattractive face. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he ran his hands through his hair and quickly said, “Gray.”

“Hm.” Natsu tipped his head to one side, studying Gray’s reflection. “You’re not a warlock.”

Gray shook his head. “No, it’s just Lyon. Well, he’s into magic stuff. Like tarot cards, and he’s got the Ouija board. I thought it was just… weird college shit.”

“I am not ‘weird college shit,’” Natsu said indignantly, making quotation marks in the air as he raised a pierced eyebrow at Gray. “I’m a demon. From—” Here, he said a series of words in a rough language Gray didn’t understand.

“Is that, um… in Germany?”

Natsu glared at him.

Gray sighed and ran both hands over his face. Happy, who had been watching him with vague disinterest, hopped up onto the sink and rubbed his face against the mirror. Gray felt a tugging sensation in his arm, and before he realized what he was doing, he reached out to pet Happy. His hand felt strange and weightless and it took him a second to realize that he wasn’t controlling it.

“What the hell?” he yelped, jumping back and pulling his hand toward his chest like he’d been burned. “What did you—”

“Not hell,” Natsu reassured him. His reflection was no longer against the wall, and he was instead standing directly behind Gray as he stared down at Happy. “Hells. Plural.”

“No, what did you do with my…” Gray gestured vaguely at his arm. His fingers were still tingling.

“Oh. I just wanted to pet him.” Natsu nodded at Happy. “I haven’t seen a cat in a long time. Not alive, anyway. He’s soft.”

Gray frowned at Natsu in the mirror, then reached out – on his own, this time – and ran his fingers over Happy’s fur again. “He’s kind of an asshole,” Gray warned as Happy purred, then turned and nipped his fingers.

Natsu grinned. “We’ll get along just fine, then.” The weightless sensation appeared in Gray’s hand again as Natsu took over, but this time he let it. Despite Natsu’s fangs and scales, he didn’t seem particularly scary. In fact, the expression on his face as he petted Happy was one of almost child-like excitement.  

“Wait,” Gray said as Natsu’s words finally caught up to him. “You’re staying? In me? I mean not—not in me like that, but in…” He trailed off and ran a hand over his burning cheeks. Natsu started to answer but Gray shook his head. “Nope. No. It’s two in the morning and I’m still not convinced this isn’t just a side effect of Lyon accidentally giving me mushrooms again, so I’m going to sleep and deal with all of this—” he gestured vaguely to Natsu’s reflection in the mirror “—once I’m awake and sober.”

Before Natsu could argue Gray flicked off the light, grabbed Happy, and headed back to the bed.

“I’m not a side effect,” Natsu grumbled as Gray burrowed under the blankets and pulled a pillow over his head.

“Shut up,” he said through a yawn. “If you’re still around tomorrow, we can talk.”

~

“Gray. Graaay. Graaaaaaaay.”

Gray groaned as he blinked slowly awake. His head still throbbed and he felt vaguely sick, and the insistent voice calling out his name wasn’t helping.

“What’you want?” he mumbled. His mouth felt fuzzy.

“Finally! I’ve been trying to wake you up for like half an hour now. Did you know that you snore? Like, a lot. It’s a good thing I don’t need sleep, or I’d be pretty annoyed at you right now.”

The voice was much too chipper for – Gray squinted at his phone – 7:36 a.m. He groaned and flopped back against the pillow, then looked around for the source of the voice. Nobody was there except for Happy, who was curled up on the pillow next to him, fast asleep.

“Who—”

“In your head, remember?”

The events of early morning started to come back to Gray in pieces – the hot guy in the mirror who claimed he was from… somewhere that wasn’t Germany. He frowned and looked over at the bathroom.

“I don’t live in the mirror, idiot.”

“Well how the fuck am I supposed to know that?” Gray glared at the ceiling. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before.”

“Aw, I’m your first?”

“No,” Gray said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. “I get possessed by demons all the time. It’s a hobby.”

“Really?” Natsu sounded genuinely surprised.

“Oh my god,” Gray muttered under his breath. “It’s way too early for this.” He sighed, then pushed himself up and ran his hands through his hair.

“Is it breakfast time?” Natsu asked. “’cause I’m starving. Or you are. I’m not sure if I can be hungry when I’m possessing you. Maybe we’re both hungry! What kind of food do you have?”

“I’m not hungry,” Gray interrupted. A low growling from his stomach disagreed with him, but he ignored it.  

“Well then I am.” Natsu sounded almost petulant. “Do you have coffee? I haven’t had coffee in forever. I mean, I haven’t had anything in forever – demons don’t really eat. Do you like tacos? I wanna try tacos. They weren’t around the last time I was here.”

“Do you always talk this much?” Gray asked. He stood up and stretched, then rummaged through his drawers until he found a clean shirt to pull on.

“I dunno,” Natsu said. “Maybe? Probably. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a long time.”

“Aren’t there other… demons? Where you’re from?”

“Yes. They’re boring, though. All they talk about is torturing people.”

A cold thread of fear suddenly crept up the back of Gray’s neck. The word ‘demon’ had obviously registered before, but it wasn’t until now that he realized that being possessed by one probably wasn’t a good thing. Natsu seemed harmless enough, but the mention of torture made Gray’s hairs stand on end.

“Don’t worry,” Natsu reassured him before he could say anything. “I’m not gonna torture you. I mean, I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, ‘cause I don’t have a body. I mean, I can sort control you, so guess I could probably compel you to walk into traffic or something.” He must have felt Gray’s fear surge because he quickly added, “I wouldn’t! I promise.”

Gray didn’t say anything as he pulled out the tin of coffee from the cupboard and started measuring it into the machine. Now that he was awake, a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind. How had this happened? Did Lyon do this on purpose? If it was an accident, how was he going to reverse it? Would an exorcism work?  

“It might.” Natsu’s voice shoved its way to the forefront of Gray’s mind.

“You can hear my thoughts?”

“Mhmm.”

“Fuck.” Gray watched as his hand moved on its own and added one more scoop of coffee grounds to the machine. “Stop that.”

“Why?” Natsu’s voice was bright and playful. “It’s fun.”

“’cause it’s my body.” The coffee machine started to hiss and sputter. “And it feels weird.”

Natsu huffed but acquiesced and Gray was relieved when the sensation returned to his arm. He shook his hand out a few times, then slumped down on one of the stools next to the counter.

“Aren’t you gonna make breakfast?” Natsu asked. “Do you have bacon?”

“I’m not hungry,” Gray said again.

“Why are you lying?”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I’m literally inside of you, I can tell you’re hungry. Why don’t you want to eat?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Gray said. “This is weird enough without you bossing me around.” He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen, then swiped to his text conversation with Lyon.

Natsu was quiet for a few minutes while Gray attempted to compose a message. The only sound in the kitchen was the drip of the coffee machine, and Happy’s quiet meow from beside the pantry where he waited to be fed. Gray started and deleted a few messages, then set the phone back down on the counter and dropped his head into his hands, sighing.

“You’re really sad,” Natsu said quietly.

“No,” Gray said, “I’m frustrated.”

“I don’t mean right now,” Natsu said. “I mean just… in general.” Gray felt a strange tugging sensation in the back of his mind. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”

“Stop looking through my brain!” Gray stood up and shook his head as if he could dislodge Natsu from his mind. “I’m fine. I’m just not hungry, is that a fucking crime?”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“None of your goddamn business.” Gray could feel heat rising in his cheeks as he ran his hands through his hair. “Leave me alone.”

“I can’t.”

Gray stared across the room at his reflection in the microwave. The shadow of Natsu stood behind him with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look angry, though, just concerned. Gray hated it. The last thing he needed was someone poking around in his brain – even if that someone was unfairly attractive, and, despite being a demon, actually kind of nice.

“How do I get rid of you?”

“I don’t know.” There was a note of hurt in Natsu’s voice as he disappeared from the reflection. Gray could still hear him, though, when he added, “Ask your warlock friend.”

“He’s not my friend,” Gray said, glaring at his phone. “He’s my brother. And he’s a fucking idiot.”

[songsoomin]

Begin Again Part 1 (A, F)

Word count: Around 10k

Idol! Jongho x Fem Reader, Best friend! Hongjoong. Reader has serious body confidence issues due to a past relationship but Jongho will help her through it. First two chapters will be angst with some fluff but a little smut will appear in chapter 3.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, both emotional and psychological, body shaming, anxiety issues. 

Authour’s note: Reader is overweight but not as massive as she thinks she is. She has been conditioned through psychological abuse to believe she is very fat and unattractive. This is not intended to be the kind of story where reader becomes thin and is then happy and gets male attention (although, due to reader’s warped sense of self she does equate being thin with being happy). Even after losing some weight (for her own health and happiness) she is still somewhat overweight and curvy but the more important part is that she gets her confidence back and that is what makes her happier and more attractive. 

Part 2 Part 3

Posted 16th October 2020

This was a bad idea, you were sure of it. Meeting new people never worked out well for you and you could already feel the anxiety creeping up on you. But Hongjoong was with you, he had told you he'd look after you and you trusted him - not something that came easily to you, these days. Still, the little voice in your head kept telling you you were stupid to think anyone would like you.

As you both approached the restaurant you froze, pulling him to a stop with you.

"Hongjoong...I'm not sure I can do this." You looked at him, clearly nervous.

"Y/N. I know it's a lot of people to meet at once but they're the best bunch of guys you could ever meet - and I'll be here with you the whole time."

"Okay." You were still skeptical that they would like you - great guys or not. The problem wasn't them...it was you.

In school Hongjoong had been one of your closest friends but you fell out of touch with him when your lives started taking different paths. Looking back at the last few years you had actually lost touch with almost every friend you had - a byproduct of the toxic relationship you had been in - and now your self-esteem was so low that it felt too scary for you to make any new ones.

You had run into Hongjoong while shopping some months ago and he had asked you to have a coffee with him. He could see you were very different to how he remembered you and asked how you had been. It was a particularly difficult time for you and you couldn't keep it all in anymore. You broke down in front of him, frantically apologising for burdening him with all this. You were sure he was going to think you were crazy and you'd never hear from him again...but he stuck around. He kept texting, asking you to meet just to make sure you were okay and, gradually, he pursuaded you that you deserved better than how you were being treated. That your boyfriend was abusing you...even if he wasn't physically hurting you. It was psychological and emtional. You had lived walking on eggshells all the time - what was fine one day would cause him to get angry and lash out at you the next - or to spend days ignoring you completely. You never knew what to do or say to please him. Hongjoong helped you gain the strength to leave him and promised to help you start afresh.

So here he was, trying to get you back out into the world and make some friends because, if left to your own devices, the depression would make you sit inside your flat all alone, convincing you not to try in case you get hurt again.

The restaurant wasn't too crowded, which was good because you weren't comfortable around lots of people. Your red-haired best friend led you to a big table occupied by seven of the most attractive men you had ever seen and you froze up again.

You don't belong here.

The mean voice in your head taunted you.

Look at these guys...they're perfect and you're just...well, a fat mess.

You tried to ignore the voice as Hongjoong introduced you to all of them,

"Guys, this is my friend Y/N that I told you about. Y/N this is...." He reeled off all their names but you knew you wouldn't remember them all. You just tried to match names to the various hair colours, hoping it would be easier that way. They all greeted you warmly, Hongjoong pulled a chair out for you next to the big, blue haired one - Yunho - and sat on your other side. He was right, they were all very friendly and a few of them very loud.

"Y/N, how old are you? Can I talk comfortably?" You think the one who asked this was called Wooyoung, he was the loudest by far. Cute, with short black hair, parted in the middle but it had a dark bluish tinge in the light. His laugh was so high-pitched you thought your ear drums would burst before the end of the meal.

"What do you do, Y/N? Do you work or go to college?" Seonghwa was next, he was so attractive you almost forgot how to form coherent sentences. Big, dark eyes, a beautiful smile and darkish-blonde hair that almost covered his eyes. He seemed the most mature of the lot and looked a bit intense sometimes - he was a little intimidating, really.

"What kind of music do you listen to? What kind of fashion do you like? Your trainers are really cool." The big one with brown hair threw questions at you next. He was dressed really well so you guessed he must like clothes a lot. He was big, like Yunho but he didn't look so friendly, at first. You thought he might be a bit cold when he was just sitting there but when he smiled it lit up his face. He was easily the cutest, despite his size.

"I'm not into clothes much...I just wear whatever, really."

Yeah, whatever you can find to fit you - which isn't much. You look awful in everything.

I mean, he has eyes...he can see how fat you are. Does he really think you can wear the new fashions in the shops? They're all made for skinny girls, after all.

You tried your best to block out the voice because you knew he was just being friendly but the voice was always there reminding you how awful you were. Making you feel even worse.

Even before you had become withdrawn you had never been outgoing - always shy and only talking to people once they'd spoken to you first - but now outgoing people were so opposite to you they actually made you feel a little uncomfortable and you couldn't help shying away from them.

Hongjoong recognised it - probably because you were clinging on to his sleeve - and asked them to tone it down.

"Guys...stop bombarding Y/N with so many questions. You really are a bit too much sometimes." He chided, although affectionately.

They got the message and switched to general conversation after a chorus of sorries. You calmed a bit once you weren't the centre of attention, just enjoying their chatter and the way they were with each other. They had a closeness you'd never experienced yourself with friends. You had been good friends with Hongjoong but, as far as girlfriends went, you'd always felt left on the outside.

You'd had some bad experiences and knew that girls could be very mean. In the past some had pretended to like you but talked shit about you behind your back. Sometimes you'd feel you were left out on purpose - once even listening to girlfriends plan a night out, knowing you were there but not inviting you. These kind of things happened more than once, with different groups, so in the end you decided it was you. You must be unlikeable in some way. It was after that you became friends with Hongjoong and his friends in the last two years of school, prefering the honesty of boys. They weren't usually two-faced and bitchy like the girls. In your experience, if a boy didn't like you he would either tell you or show it in some other way.

That was why you had agreed to come out with Hongjoong today, you felt more comfortable with boys and you knew he was a good judge of character. If this had been a table of girls you'd have been way too scared to come...and god knows what that voice would be saying to you now. Most of the girls he knew were idols like him - and it was fair to say you were on the larger side - so the inferiority complex you'd develop sitting with girls that thin and pretty didn't bear thinking about.

Despite your discomfort you were truly enjoying being with the group and litening to their stories and friendly jibes. It's hard being around a group of friends who have a long history because they will talk about their shared experiences but they were all kind enough to explain the stories to you and include you as much as they could. You appreciated their kindness.

They're probabbly getting sick of you by now...having to explain everything. You're just an incovenience to everyone. I bet they wish you weren't here.

The waiter came over to take the order and you asked for a diet Pepsi.

"Diet?" Yeah, right. They're probably laughing at you for ordering a diet when you look like you don't even know the meaning of the word. One look at you and they can see you don't do 'diet' anything.

The voice was often stronger in your mind when you were already anxious or in an uncomfortable situation. Right now it was really being mean. You also ordered something relatively light and healthy to eat and that spurred the voice on more.

Really? You know they can see you, right? They won't think you usually eat this way. You're not that fat because you've been eating salads.

You tried your best to drown it out and just listen to the guys' chatter again. You knew you'd probably still be hungry after so you'd eat back at home.

Yeah...too much. Like always.

You knew in your heart that they wouldn't think you ate that healthily normally but you didn't like eating in front of others. Other peope judged you for how you looked, what you ate. You'd rather they inwardly laughed at you for trying to pretend you were healthy than look at a fat girl eating junk food and be more disgusted.

The thought brought back old memories of the daily nagging your ex subjected you to...

"Y/N? Do you really think you should be eating that? You eat far too much."

"When are you going to start losing some weight?"

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"A salad would probably be better for you than that."

"I just think you should get rid of that dress. It makes you look awful."

"I'm not trying to upset you but I just want you to be as attractive and beautiful as you used to be. Everyone knows fat isn't sexy."

He never outright called you names or said things anyone would consider insulting so it was difficult to see that what he was doing was emotional abuse. What he did was gradually strip you of any shred of self-confidence. Everyday the things he said were carefully designed to remind you that you weren't as thin as you were when you met him and therefore you weren't good enough. There were certain clothes he disliked because they didn't flatter your size as well as others and if you wore any of those he would withold hugs and affection. You could see him purposefully not looking in your direction anytime you were changing because seeing you naked was so repulsive to him. But he didn't leave you to find someone better. He carried on gradually demeaning you, trying to force you into becoming what he wanted you to be. He thought if he made you feel bad enough, you would eat better and go to the gym but it didn't work that way. Your self-worth became so wrapped up in what you looked like that you began hating yourself. You couldn't go to the gym because people would laugh at you. You stopped going on nights out with friends because you hated how you looked in everything you owned and didn't want people looking at you. Laughing because the fat girl thought she could make herself look good by putting on some make up and a nice dress. It was logical to think that if you didn't like your weight you could just eat better but the depression kept you down and just made you eat more. A vicious circle. The more you ate the more you hated yourself until you just got used to it. You might have got rid of him but the voice remained, constantly demeaning and mocking you.

You were close to tears now but didn't want to embarrass yourself further so you made an excuse to leave the table.

"Joong, I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Okay." You'd learned in the previous months that Hongjoong could always see through you but everyone was around so he didn't comment on it. He knew you wouldn't want anyone else to see you were upset. You appreciated his sensitivity but how he also wouldn't let you bottle things up until they were really hurting you too much. You knew it was his mature and caring nature that made him perfect as the group's leader.

You calmed yourself down and went back out before anyone would wonder why you'd been gone too long.

You think anyone but Hongjoong would even notice you were gone?

When you got back to the table they were all still engrossed in conversation but Hongjoong lightly squeezed your hand under the table and Yunho broke off to talk to you. A few seats away another boy smiled at you shyly, noticing your return. You hadn't spoken to him directly and he seemed one of the quietest of the group. He had light brown hair and a cute smile. You wouldn't have thought he was the youngest because he was a bit stockier than the rest and seemed more mature than Wooyoung and Mingi but he called each of them 'Hyung' so you guessed he must be. In any event, he had seemed to notice when you returned so maybe the voice wasn't always right. You felt hopeful but you also knew how quickly hopes could be crushed. You guessed you'd just have to see how this went.

As the meal went on you really were enjoying yourself but couldn't get rid of the fear of judgement completely, despite how nice they seemed. You felt so self-conscious as you ate in front of them that you took tiny bites and didn't even finish it all. You noticed the same boy - who you'd now learned was called Jongho - looking over at you every now and then and it made you feel a bit anxious.

He's probably judging you. He's clearly very fit and active, whereas, you get no exercise and clearly eat too much...what must he think?

You tried your best to shove it to the back of your mind and enjoy the afternoon.

You had had fun but were glad once you got home, where you could relax and know no one was watching or judging you. You went to the freezer and took out a full tub of ice cream, ready to eat the whole thing by yourself. Food used to comfort you - something you'd learned a long time ago and had now become a habit - but these days you didn't get the same feeling. Eating had become robotic, almost. You picked up food even when you weren't really hungry and, although you still enjoyed the taste and the action of eating, you couldn't say you paid much attention anymore and the whole tub would be gone before you knew it. You thought it might be like drugs, where you needed more all the time to get the same fix. Or maybe it was just that you'd had to disassociate from your feelings that you didn't get the same pleasure you once got because inside you were actually ashamed of yourself and, as long as you weren't feeling anything, you wouldn't feel that either.

You did want to change because, if nothing else, you knew overeating wasn't healthy. It wasn't that you thought people needed to be thin to be beautiful because you knew beauty was subjective and came in all forms but you knew you were much happier in yourself when you were slimmer. How much of that was due to the mistreatment from your ex-boyfriend, it was impossible to know. Maybe if he had embraced you as you were you could be happy at whatever size without hating yourself but it was done now.

You weren't completely sure why you felt ashamed of yourself because you never judged other people for not being thin. You could only imagine that it was another side-effect of the emotional abuse. He was always gaslighting...making it seem like it was your fault.

“I'm only trying to help...don't you want to look good?”

"You know how unhappy it makes me. Don't you care about saving our relationship? If you did you'd be down at the gym doing something about it."

If you ever tried to point out how his behaviour made you feel or how he could change how he treated you so you were happier together he just turned it back on you.

"I'm not the one who needs to change. The only problem in our relationship is your size so it's you that needs to fix it."

Deep down you knew that wasn't true, though. His behaviour wasn't right and shaming someone was not an incentive for self-improvement. On the contrary, it only made you eat more but now you did it in secret where you couldn't be seen and, therefore, couldn't be judged. At least until they could see the results of your overeating.

                                                     ********

A few days later you and Hongjoong were watching a few more episodes of the Netflix drama you'd started together in your apartment. You'd just finished the second and were having a break to get more drinks before beginning the third when he seemed to remember something.

"Oh, Y/N! I forgot to tell you...the guys all said they like you. Said it was nice to meet someone new, for a change."

You leaned back against the kitchen side, abandoning the hunt for drinks for a moment, "What do you mean?"

"Well...we get so few chances to meet anyone who isn't part of our industry or who isn't a fan." Hongjoong continued on, lifting himself up onto the opposite counter-top. "The people in our industry are like us where they don't get to do much real-life stuff so mostly we end up talking about idol life and work. We adore our fans and love getting to meet them but it is still a big part of being an idol so it's nice when we meet someone not linked to that at all."

"Really?" You asked. You liked hearing about Hongjoong's life but never pressed him for too much information. He did talk about it but was usually more concerned with how you were doing. You'd never pressed him too much about being an idol because you wanted him to be able to be himself with you and talk about whatever he wanted.

"Yeah, it's nice for us to have friends who we can talk to about other things and get some time to switch off from work. That's probably why they bombarded you with questions the other day." He laughed thinking about it and you had to join in. Hongjoong had such a bright smile that it made you happy just seeing it. You knew he used a lot of his free time trying to help you mend yourself and you had worried he'd get sick of your drama but it felt like a relief to know he liked the distraction.

He'll get sick of you one day. He may be helping you now but he'll soon realise you're not worth it.

"I really liked meeting them, too. It was a bit overwhelming at first but they seemed just as nice as you said they were. Thanks, Joong, I had fun for once." You smiled at your red-haired best friend, still sitting up on the counter.

"They liked you, too...they even suggested I bring you over to the dorm sometime."

"They liked me? I thought they'd have seen how boring I am. I'm too quiet and shy."

Hongjoong sighed, "Y/N...you are a wonderful person and being shy doesn't make you boring. You're different to the other kinds of people we know and that is refreshing."

You looked down at your hands awkwardly, not used to hearing anything good about yourself from anyone but your parents and they had to say nice things about you - they were biased.

"It's understandable that you're reserved around new people given what you've been through. That arsehole made you feel like you're not worth anything and you've nothing to offer anyone but it's just not true. I've got to know you again and once you let me in I could see how great you are. You're funny and caring and they'll see it soon, as well, if you let them."

"Stop it Joong, you know how uncomfortable compliments make me." You said, blushing.

Hongjoong hopped down from the counter and slung an arm around your shoulder, "That's because you don't believe any of it yet and I'm not going to stop until you do."

"Thanks, Joong...I don't know where I'd be without you."

                                                      ********

You stood outside the door to the boys' dorm, anxiety flaring. Slowly you took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. Hongjoong had told you they had liked you and wanted to see you again but you still doubted it.

Over time you had come to believe that people never really liked you - you weren't worth it. You were too quiet and boring, not attractive enough so what did you really have to offer? Thinking this way meant that you had trouble believing Hongjoong even though you knew he was a good person and wouldn't lie to you. He could've been mistaken, though.

They probably just told him they liked you because you're his friend and they didn't want to hurt his feelings.  

But he said they had suggested I come over...so that can't be true. You told the nasty voice in your head and hoped you were right. Finally feeling a little more calm you knocked timidly on the door.

Jeez...even your knock is boring.

You heard a small comotion on the other side of the door before you heard the click of the door opening.

"Guys, stop crowding! She doesn't want you all in her face straight away."

As Hongjoong opened the door with a sigh you saw three of his members standing behind him looking excited and you had to laugh a little. Thankfully you remembered their names - Yunho was easy because he had blue hair and you remembered San and Wooyoung as they had been the ones to talk to you most at the restaurant.

"Hi." You felt a little overwhelmed again but not as much as last time. True, it was a new environment and those added to your anxiety but the three guys seemed genuinely pleased to see you again so you felt much more comfortable already.

"Hi, Y/N!" Hongjoong greeted you with a hug, then, turning to the other three commanded,

"Guys...give Y/N some room to breathe before you attack her."

San looked slightly forlorn, like a small child who's dad just told him he couldn't go out to play yet and you smiled because he just looked so cute.

Wooyoung, however, ignored Hongjoong completely.

"Y/N, what kind of pizza topping do you like? We're ordering a bunch for all of us."

"Uh, I like Hawaiian best."

"Yes! I knew someone else but me must like pineapple on pizza."

The tall brown haired one, Mingi you thought, yelled from his spot on the sofa with a tone that said 'I told you so' to the others.

"Fine," Wooyoung replied, "You and Y/N can share that one and the rest of us will get the usual order."

Mmmm, pizza. That'll help you to not be a massive fat cow. The voice chimed in sarcastically and you sighed.

"Are you okay?" Yunho asked, bringing you out of your own thoughts.

"Oh...yeah, I'm fine."

"Let's get you a drink. We got Pepsi, Fanta, juice...."

You followed Yunho to the kitchen while he carried on talking to you and asking how you had been. He was really easy to talk to and, although he seemed like he could be quite hyper and chaotic - especially with Mingi, as you witnessed at the restaurant - he also seemed to have a more perceptive side, like he could read how people were feeling. You appreciated how he was chatting with you more calmly, without making you feel overwhelmed by attention.

You made your way into the living area of their dorm and looked around. Not all the boys had been there to greet you when you came in, which was good as it meant you didn't have the focus of eight people on you all at once.

Yeosang, the quietest of the group, was sitting on the couch by Mingi and he smiled and said "Hi." when you came over and took a seat on the other couch. Mingi, happy to have found someone who let him order pineapple pizza started chatting to you, asking if you wanted to watch a movie or play games first. They seemed to have the evening planned out but it was nice he was asking what you wanted to do - it made you feel included.

Seonghwa was getting snacks together in the kitchen and when he brought them out to the living room the boys all descended on him like they were starving. He tutted, grumbling about how uncivilised they were but you could see the affection he held for them. Hongjoong had told you Seonghwa was the oldest so you presumed he took on more of a caring role like Joong did.

Jongho was the last to enter, coming from down the hall where their bedrooms must be. He paused slightly when he saw you there and gave you a small smile. You weren't really sure what that meant. He didn't seem as pleased to see you as the others but didn't seem unhappy either...more awkward, maybe. Hongjoong had been trying to help you stop and think through the negative thoughts you had and to actively think kinder thoughts about yourself so you tried not to think it was anything personal, like you normally would. Maybe Jongho was just awkward around new people like you were.

As you were contemplating that you reached for your drink on the coffee table, completely missing the target but managing to knock the glass over, spilling all the liquid inside over the table and the floor.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I'll get something to wipe it up!"

You rushed frantically to the kitchen looking for paper towels or a cloth to clean the spill but Seonghwa was already on the case and getting everything he needed for the job.

"It's okay, Y/N, I'll get it."

"I should clean it, it was my fault." You mentally kicked yourself for not being careful enough.

"You're our guest, it's fine. Don't worry." Seonghwa said with a kind smile.

A memory of your ex looking at you with disgust played through your mind...

"You're so useless. You can't do anything right.”

"I'm sorry, it was just an accident."

"It's only ever me who cares about keeping this place clean - you just go around messing things up. You'd probably be just as happy living in a pigsty. At least that would suit you more."

 You must've looked like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack as Hongjoong came over and placed his arm around your shoulders.

"It's okay, Y/N. Breathe."

"I'm sorry, Joong. I should've been more careful. I'm just so clumsy."

"Y/N..." He faced you with a hand on each of your shoulders and looked you straight in the eye, "No one is upset about this. It happens, don't worry."

Seonghwa was already done cleaning up the spill and wiping the area down with a wet cloth so it didn't get sticky. He smiled as he passed you on his way back to the kitchen. You peeked past Hongjoong to the others and no one looked angry or annoyed at your clumsiness...just a little confused at the exchange between Hongjoong and yourself.

They're probably wondering what kind of crazy person they've let into their dorm by now.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom." You moved quickly to avoid the curious gaze of the others while Hongjoong called out,

"It's the last door on the left."

Once locked in the bathroom you sat on the lid of the toilet, head in your hands and trying not to let all the panic take over you. You thought it might help to splash cold water on your face except you had make up on.

It doesn't help, though. You might look slightly better with make up on but you'll still look ugly.

At least that's what the voice tells you each time you try to make yourself look more presentable. You might not think you're that attractive in make up but you sure as hell know you look like crap without it.

"Aren't you going to wear make up today?"

"We're only going to see your mother...I'm sure she doesn't care if I don't have any make up on."

"It doesn't seem like you care about how you look either."

That was just one of the many snide comment your ex would make if you didn't feel like wearing make up every now and then. Comments that let you know that he would only find you acceptable with make up and nice clothes.

Sometimes it was something like, "Well, if you don't want to make an effort for me..." that made you feel like you didn't love him enough, that you didn't care if he was happy with you. You'd always end up either going back to put on make up to make him happy or spending the day with him virtually ignoring you just so you knew just how displeased he was with how you looked.

You took a few deep breaths and sighed, forcing yourself up and out the bathroom because it wouldn't do any good to hide in here. That would make them all think you really were a crazy mess.

You paused as you walked down the hall upon hearing one of the guys ask, "Is Y/n okay? Her reaction to spilling her drink was a bit...odd."

"Uh...it's not really my place to say but...it's because of her ex. He wasn't good to her. In fact, he was quite cruel a lot of the time."

There was a pause as you listened but then noises of disgust came from some the boys.

"Oh my god!"

"What a bastard!"

"But she's so sweet...how could he do that?"

"I know." Hongjoong said, "She's come a long way but don't bring it up, please. I don't want her more upset."

You smiled, Hongjoong was the one who was so sweet. He really was your rock and the only one you'd ever really opened up to about it all. Your parents knew your ex wasn't always good to you but you hadn't wanted to upset them by telling them how badly he treated you. Whenever you had been around them or his parents he had been the master of pretending your relationship was great and showing how much he 'loved' you.

As you walked back into sight, the guys went back to chatting or looking at their phones. Mingi and Jongho were arguing over what movie to watch. Jongho wanted horror but Mingi was outright refusing.

Only Joong and Seonghwa took notice of your return as you walked over to them in the kitchen.  

"Sorry for making you clean up my mess, Seonghwa."

Seonghwa looked at you with a smile - he really was painfully attractive.

"Y/N...Joong and I live with six massive children. You think these boys aren't constantly making a mess for me to clean up?"

"Okay, I suppose..." You laughed, "...but I'm still sorry that I made you."

"It's nothing, really."

Seonghwa quietly exited the kitchen, leaving you alone with your best friend.

"You okay now?" He asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Just my normal reaction to messing up."

"You don't have to live like that anymore, Y/N." You felt Hongjoong's arms wrap around you comfortingly.  "It was his reactions that weren't normal. No one deserves to be made to feel like shit every day and certainly not over silly things like a spilled drink or forgetting to put something away."

You let out a big breath and relaxed into Hongjoong's embrace. Once he felt you had calmed down properly he spoke again.

"Do you wanna go join the guys again? The pizza must almost be here."  

                                                    ********

"You can't do that, Woo!" You exclaimed.

"I can! I've always played like that." the dark-haired boy retorted.

"That is not how you play. I'm not having it." You replied, setting your cards down and picking your phone up to Google the official rules of Uno.

"Y/N, I've been trying to tell him this for six years but we always end up arguing." Yeosang said wearily.

"Yeah." Yunho added, "That's why we never play Uno anymore."

You found the official Uno page and read over the rules until you found what you were after.

"When a person places this card the next player will have to pick up two cards and forfeit their turn." You read word-for-word off the screen. "You have to pick up two cards. You can't just put another plus two card and make me pick up four!"

"Well...that's not how I play." Wooyoung replied stubbornly but you could be just as stubborn.

"Okay then...I just won't play with you if you cheat."

Wooyoung gasped dramatically at the implication of cheating while the others all laughed at your childish interaction.

It felt so good having fun for a change. Spending time with people who seemed to genuinely like you and have fun with you, too. People who weren't constantly looking out for any mistakes you made so they could make you feel like shit.

You'd spent quite a few evenings at the dorm with Hongjoong and the boys and you were slowly starting to relax around them - enough to start arguing over game rules, certainly, but you still had a lot of doubt. Despite your last relationship you still had a tendency to trust too easily because you were desperate for warmth and friendship. The voice in your head had taken the place of your ex, constantly telling you you weren't good enough, that no one could ever want you, you weren't funny or pretty or interesting in any way. So, even though it had the potential to destroy all the progress you'd made so far, you felt yourself trusting them more and more because they seemed so nice and kind. They appeared to accept you for who you were and not judge your looks or size. Laughing at how you and Woo were playfully arguing it appeared like they really liked having you around. You just hoped the voice was wrong and you weren't setting yourself up for more pain when you found out they were just pretending to like you for Hongjoong's sake.

                                                      ********

You were sitting on the couch in the boys' dorm for another evening of a Netflix series and pizza - Yeosang and Jongho had won the battle this time, it was a horror and Mingi was not happy. Despite your original impression of him being big and intimidating he was actually just a big baby who loved affection just as much as you and right now he was holding on to your hand and squeezing his eyes shut every time the music that signalled something bad was about to happen started playing. You couldn't blame him, though, you were holding his hand just as tight and watching the tv through half-closed eyes so you could shut them quicker if something scary did appear on the screen. Your best friend, Hongjoong, was sitting on your other side, hand lightly resting on your leg in a comforting way because he knew you didn't like scary programmes.

"I still enjoy the storylines even if they do scare me." You'd told him after the episode ended, when he asked you why you still wanted to watch them.

"Do you want the last slice, Y/N?" Mingi asked, holding up the pizza box from the Hawaiian you'd shared again.

"I really shouldn't." You sighed, "You have it."

"What do you mean?" The tall brown-haired boy asked, confused.

"Well..it's alright for you guys to eat a lot because you all dance all day and work it off. You don't get fat from it. I'm just getting bigger and bigger so I need to lose some weight."

"That's stupid." San said, matter-of-factly, "There's nothing wrong with how you are."

You knew San meant well and didn't judge you but when he said 'how you are' it just cemented in your head that 'how you were' wasn't good at all. It was the same as being told you look good 'for your size' - if you weren't overweight he would surely have just said there's nothing wrong with you.

"Thanks, San but I don't feel like I'm fine like this." You said feeling awkward as everyone was looking at you now.

"I can teach you to dance, if you like. It's really good exercise." Yunho offered.

You know their practice room is upstairs, right? You'd probably go through the floor. The voice in your head mocked you.

"You do not want to see me trying to dance." You grimaced at the thought of your clumsy, uncoordinated body lumbering around a practice room.

"You could always come to the gym with me." Jongho said.

It surprised you as Jongho didn't usually talk to you that much and your face must have shown your surprise as he quickly added on, "If you want to, I mean."

From the corner of your eye you saw Wooyoung and Yeosang share a look and smirk and you couldn't help but wonder what that meant. Were they laughing at the thought of you exercising...or how you'd look in gym clothes? You didn't think on it too long, though as Jongho was still waiting, looking awkward.

"I guess?" You answered, except it came out more like a question. "I don't think I'll be very good at it, though. I've never really been to a proper gym."

"That's no problem..." the youngest said excitedly, "I can coach you."

"I don't want to use up all your time, though. You must have other things you want to do and you guys don't get a lot of time off."

"Don't worry, Y/N," Hongjoong told you, "Jongho spends most of his time off at the gym anyway."

"Well...okay then. When do we start?"

                                                    ********

You stood looking at yourself in the mirror, sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt left over from your last failed attempt at losing weight through exercise. You didn't like the way you looked but there was only one way to change that so you would just have to suck it up and go.

On getting to the gym doors you stopped to take a deep breath. It surely wouldn't be that bad but you couldn't help but worry in case people judged you or laughed at you. It didn't make sense for people to laugh because you were at least there making an effort but you'd seen your fair share of larger people being laughed at for exercising and trying to get fitter but you'd long ago realised that people were cruel. You'd be mocked for being bigger but mocked even more for trying to change it.

At least Jongho would be there to support you... Unless... the voice in your head started...

You don't know him that well...what if he thinks it's funny, too? What if he stands you up and you're left here looking stupid all alone? He might even -

'STOP IT!' You shouted silently at the voice in your head, 'You can't keep making me feel this way! Jongho wouldn't have offered to help if he was going to be mean...Hongjoong's friends aren't like that.

You were going to have to overcome this voice if you were ever going to be able to accept yourself and be happy. You knew that but it was easier said than done because these were all your thoughts about yourself and how people thought of you. If someone like your ex was being cruel and saying derogatory things about you, you could cut them out of your life and their voice would be gone but when it's your own 'voice' degrading you...how do you cut your own cruelty out of your life?

You cut that train of thought short as you could see Jongho inside the gym - surrounded by a vast array of intimidating looking machines - and you didn't want to keep him waiting. This wasn't the time for an personal crisis. It was the time, however, to force yourself through those doors and try to take the first steps towards liking yourself again.

"...five...four...three...two...one. You did it!" Jongho exclcimed happily, grinning at you. You were exhausted already because you just weren't used to this type of activity and you knew you were gonna feel it in the morning.

You and Jongho had only done twenty minutes on the treadmill before he had you using the weights. The machines had looked scary and complicated to you but he assured you he would do all the prep work and help you position yourself right. He helped you test out how much you could lift without causing damage as your muscles weren't used to the strain but he said he didn't want it to feel too easy or there would be no benefit.

"Are you sure I shouldn't be using the cardio machines if I need to lose weight?" You asked Jongho uncertainly, "I don't want to build myself up."

"No." The light brown-haired boy answered sounding very sure of himself, "Too much cardio won't help. You need to stress your muscled to make them kick into burning fat effectively. You won't build lots of muscle because you won't be lifting that much and we'll just be doing short high intensity bursts on each different machine but you will tone up."

You looked at him in awe of his knowledge, Hongjoong must be right, Jongho must spend a lot of time here. You looked over his physique as he was talking to you, he was just in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt but it was enought to hint at the muscled he had underneath that were usually hidden under his  normal clothes. You could see that Jongho had a bigger build than the others but you'd not been able to see how well-defined it was before now.

"You'll need to do some cardio before and after, of course, as your warm-up and cool-down or you could damage your muscles...and you don't want that because it could put you out of action for a while and you'll have to build your fitness back up again."

"Oh, okay. Well, you seem to really know what you're doing so just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it."

He seemed pleased at your assessment of his knowledge because he smiled, allbeit with a slight blush - maybe you'd embarrassed him a little. It occurred to you that this was probably the longest you'd ever spoken to Jongho for so maybe it was just the slight awkwardness that still lingered between the two of you.

"Good, then get yourself settled into the bicep curl and we'll continue with your arms."

                                                    ********

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...five...four-"

"Hey!" You cried, "You can't do that!"

"Do what?" Jongho asked innocently.

"You can't go back to five when I just got to one...it's not fair!"

Your 'instructor' laughed a little, "It's a standard training technique. You've been doing so well over the last month that I wanted to increase your reps but if I say do fifteen from the start you'd think it too much."

"I would." You agreed.

"But...if I just add another few on while you're already working you'll just continue - well, that's what most trainers find works." He gave you a questioning look and you wondered what he was thinking.

He's thinking you're a lazy, fat cow who can't see hard work through.

'That's not true!' You answered the nasty voice in your head silently, 'I have been working hard.'

"Okay, I'll try." You we're skeptical but you really wanted to show him you could try hard.

Jongho smiled at you and you couldn't help but want to do your best when he flashed you his cute, gummy grin.

"Great, let's go again! Ten..."

                                                   ********

Your muscles were so tight the next day after Jongho had increased the workload and you groaned lightly as you shifted position on the couch in the boys' dorm.

"You okay, Y/N?" Hongjoong wondered as he heard you grumbling to yourself.

"Oh, it's just my legs. Jongho made me work harder yesterday and my muscles are really achy." You looked over to see said boy looking a bit sheepish.

"I'm really good at deep muscle massages." Jongho was already next to you by the time he'd finished his sentence and reaching for you. Alarm bells instantly went off in your head - you didn't want him to touch you. It was enough that he saw you sweating and looking less than dignified at the gym, you didn't want him to be able to feel your flabby legs, as well.

"No!" You virtually shouted as you pulled your legs up under you so fast, ignoring your muscles' complaints.

"I'm sorry." You said in a small voice as Jongho looked confused and - maybe -a little hurt. The other boys were all looking at you, too, having been surprised by your outburst.

"I just...don't really like people touching me much." The apologetic look was clear on your face as you tried to explain so he knew it was your problem and nothing against him.

"It’s okay, I understand that. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He smiled slightly but you could still see the hint of hurt on his face.

You felt awful. You didn't want Jongho to feel bad about something that was all you but you didn't know how to make it better so you just smiled apologetically back at him. The night continued on but you couldn't deny it felt a little awkward - especially when you saw Jongho look at you out of the corner of his eye when he noticed you let Hongjoong take your hand to hold while you were all watching TV. The gesture was to comfort you because your best friend knew you well enough to know you'd feel uneasy about the unwanted attention you'd brought on yourself.

Out of the eight boys, physical contact was something you only let Hongjoong do because you trusted him not to judge you. You didn't know them well enough yet and trusting people didn't come easy. Again, though, you had to admit that it was nothing to do with what kind of people they were because they really did seem genuinely lovely people. The problem was completely within you. You thought they'd judge your size because you judged it yourself. Thought they might secretly dislike you because you disliked yourself. Wondered why they wanted to hang around with a boring, unattractive girl like you because that's how you saw yourself. Thought they'd be disgusted if they saw or felt how you looked under the baggy clothes you wore because that's exactly how you felt when you saw or touched yourself. If you couldn't even like yourself, how could anyone else?

                                                    ********

"Jongho..." You panted, struggling to catch your breath, "I can't...do anymore...I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?" He asked confused.

"Because I'm failing." Not wanting to meet his eyes you looked down dejectedly. It had been a week since Jongho had increased your workout routine and you were exhausted. You dragged yourself off the treadmill and sat on the seat of the nearest weight machine.

"You're doing great, Y/N."

"No. I'm failing like I do everytime I try to lose weight." You felt tears welling up and were about ready to give up.

You always give up. You're lazy and useless so you might as well do it again.

Jongho frowned and placed one of his hands on each of your shoulders; you went to stand up off the seat and move away from his touch but he wouldn't let you, he was holding you too firmly. He crouched down so he was on your eye level.

"Y/N. Don't be so hard on yourself. This is a really tough workout and...I may have pushed you a little too far."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm really not." He was trying to get you to look at him but you wouldn't. "We've been here almost every day this week and it's probably too much straight after increasing the workload."

"Really?" Looking up you looked Jongho in the eyes trying to guage if he really meant it or was just being kind to you. His dark brown eyes were staring straight back into yours and you could only see sincerity. It made hope swell a little inside you.

"A lot of people think that the more they do, the fitter they will become but if you take on too much at once you will exhaust yourself. If you're struggling, it's probably your body telling you to slow down and allow yourself to rest."

"You think so? I'm not just a massive failure?"

"No." Jongho chuckled.

But you are massive.

"In fact," he continued, "it's me who should be apologising for letting you do too much. You could've hurt yourself."

"It's okay." You smiled, just happy he didn't think you were useless.

"How about we make sure we only do every other day to allow you resting time inbetween. We'll finish up for today and get showered."

"Sure, thanks Jongho."

You were just turning to go shower when you heard him call out to you in a softer voice than normal.

"Uhh...Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to get a coffee or something when were done here?" He looked a little unsure of himself, which was unusual because here in the gym he always seemed very confident.

"Oh...Uh, sure. I guess we could." You felt quite awkward yourself and you realised again that, although you were spending time with Jongho, you weren't really socialising - too busy concentrating on training. Nerves started to rush through you at the thought of trying to have a conversation with just the two of you but he'd been so kind to help you, you didn't want to say no.

Not wanting to keep him waiting you showered as quick as you could and towel dried your hair, leaving it to dry on it's own. You put on the same kind of baggy clothes you always wore and headed out of the women's changing room to meet him.

Your 'training instructor' smiled warmly at you when you walked over. "I know a nice coffee shop not too far from here, we can go there if you like?"

"I'm fine with wherever you want to go."  You told him, smiling shyly.

The two of you walked mostly in silence with just a bit of small talk between you. You weren't sure if Jongho was shy like you or just quieter than the other boys - some of them were so loud they didn't give the others a chance to say much. Maybe he was just the kind of person who didn't feel the need to fill the silence.

Every now and then as you were walking you saw him steal a glance at you from the corner of your eye. You tried not to think it was because he was judging you but that was always your first thought whenever anyone looked at you. You weren't always like this, in fact you used to be confident and get a lot of attention from boys. How you were now was the result of the systematic destructuction of your self-esteem over years. Being constantly told you weren't good enough, attractive enough, thin enough, pretty enough.  Being made to feel like no one else would ever want you. You used to like the attention you got but now whenever anyone looked at you, you were sure it was because they were judging how you'd 'let yourself go', as your ex would so often put it. But you'd been doing well with trying to see the positive side so you dismissed those thoughts because why would he ask you to get coffee if he was embarrasssed to be seen with you?

The cafe was one you'd not seen before and you could already see it was pretty just from the outside. It looked more like an independent shop than part of a large chain with old-style signage and the cafe name in italics.

Jongho held the door open and you walked in to find small tables with a little vase set on each one. Inside each vase was a pink flower which complemented the colour of the cushions on the ornate chairs. There were fairy lights hung aroung the cafe which gave it an almost magical feel.

"Wow, this place is really pretty." You breathed as Jongho led you to a vacant table and held out your chair for you. Shyly you thanked him and sat down on the plush seat. It was just as comfy as it looked.

"What would you like?"

"Oh, no, you don't have to get it - I can pay for mine." Before you could even get your purse out of your bag Jongho had reached out to stop you. His hand was warm on yours and - surprisingly to you - you didn't immediately pull away.

"Please, it's no problem. Let me get it." His tone was soft but you could see from the look in his eyes that he had no intention of letting you pay so you reluctanly gave in.

"Okay, if you must. A hot chocolate, please."

"Cream?"

"No, thanks."

Jongho went to place the order and you sighed, you didn't like other people paying for you, especially if you didn't know them well. You remembered all the times your ex would pay for things but then make you feel bad about it. Complaining that you didn't earn enough and that he had to help you out. You had never asked him to and he didn't need to. It was just another way for him to belittle you and make you feel worthless.

As you waited for Jongho you thought about your 'realtionship' with him. At the moment it was only at the gym that you interacted. At the boys' dorm the louder members usually dominated the conversation so, although you did sometimes speak with him, you hadn't had much of a real conversation together. You didn't think you could call him your friend yet but you wanted to be able to. Maybe if you were brave and made the effort you could make a good start today.

The clink of the mugs being placed on the table startled you out of your thoughts.

Jongho laughed a little, "Sorry, did I make you jump?"

"Yeah," A sheepish look crept onto your face, "I was lost in thought."

"Oh? About what?"

"Well...we only really talk at the gym. I was thinking it would be nice to get to know you better outside of exercising."

It wasn't easy for you to put yourself out there even this little bit. In addition to judgement you always expected rejection. Except for Hongjoong you'd never had any good friends. You'd had people who you hung around with but not that you'd call real friends. You'd never felt accepted by the other girls. Rejection was what you feared every time you tried to make friends now.

"I'd really like that." You looked away shyly and blew on your hot chocolate as Jongho smiled brightly at you. You didn't really know where to go from here because it was so unlike you to even start a conversation let alone try to make a friend.

"I'd also really like you to share this red velvet with me." He said, indicating to a ridiculously-sized piece of cake sitting between you on the table.

"Oh, no...I really shouldn't." The cake did look amazing but you'd been so good lately, for once managing to stick to a healthier diet that didn't include your usual excessive amounts of cake and ice cream. You hadn't cut them out completely, just reduced to a normal amount. In addition to exercise, Jongho had helped with dietary advice; telling you not to forbid yourself anything but to balance your intake better. In the past when you cut out treats completely, it had always gone badly. You'd stick to it for a few months then crack and go on a binge. Jongho advised to make sure you get the proper amount of carbs, protein and nutrients to keep a balanced diet and stay healthier.

"Don't make me eat this all on my own...pleeease?" The pout that accompanied his plea was possibly the cutest thing you'd ever seen and definitely not something you could win against.

"Oh, alright. I'll have a little bit." You sighed, giving in to him again. "But only because you looked so cute. Pouting like that is a really dirty tactic, you know."

"I know," Jongho smirked, "...but at least you think I'm cute."

He flashed his signature gummy grin at you and you blushed, looking away. You wondered where on earth that confidence to call him cute even came from but as you sat talking to your training partner you found it amazingly easy to talk to him - comfortable, even. You had thought him shy because he didn't say much around you when the other boys were there but he didn't seem that way now it was just the two of you. He talked about so many different things and carried a lot of the conversation so confidently. He made you feel perfectly at ease and despite your fear of eating in front of other people he even managed to make you forget that, too. He was making you laugh with his terrible 'dad' jokes so much that when he held his fork out for you to take a bite of the moist red velvet cake, you were just too distracted to feel self-conscious.

Even when Jongho guided you out the door with his hand on the small of your back you didn't flinch away, you felt so comfortable with him.

"Wow, I didn't realise we'd been in there so long." Looking around the darkness outside confused you. It hadn't seemed like you were in there for that long.

"It is pretty dark now. I can walk you home...I mean, if you want that, of course." Jongho really was being quite the gentleman today; you idly wondered if this was what he was normally like or if he was just offering out of politeness because of the dark.

"It's okay, I'll be fine. My place isn't too far from here." You didn't want to put him out any more. Your apartment was in the completely opposite direction to the boys'.

"Oh." You weren't sure but he looked almost disappointed. Most likely just worried about you walking alone in the dark. "Well, get some rest before our next session. Be careful walking back."

"I will. Thanks for the hot chocolate...and cake." You smiled and waved before turning and making your way home, feeling really happy for once.

In bed that evening you found yourself going over the days events in your mind again. Not worrying over any errors you made that might make you look stupid, like you normally would but being thinking about Jongho and hoping you could think of him as a proper friend now. He was so kind and patient with you when you were working out at the gym but you had to admit you had much more fun with him afterwards.

You found yourself replaying the meeting in your mind; the silly jokes he made, how he looked so cute when he was trying not to laugh at them himself as he delivered the punchline. His smile really was so pretty.

As usually happened, though, the self-deprecating thought crept back in as you pondered just how good-looking he was and wondered what people must have thought seeing someone like you with someone like him. You really weren't in the same league as him. You could see just how easy it would be to fall for him but that didn't make any difference; it's not like he'd ever like you back. Why would he when he had tons of perfect-looking girls around him to choose from. Backing dancers, other idols, you couldn't compete with a single one of them. Your ex loved to remind you that no one else would ever want you looking like you did but at least if you remembered that and didn't get your hopes up, you couldn't get hurt again when the inevitable rejection came.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 151

151

Coming back to Garrison should have been a relief. It really should have. It wasn’t until Lance had cleaned through that he felt like he was really home again. All his stuff was where it was supposed to be, but Matt and Rieva had changed a few things around. Lance felt bad about changing it back, yet he knew it’d grate on him until he had.

Sitting himself down on the lawn, the vampire sighed deeply. Hand clutching at his pendant, unable to not think of Mami. That photo... of his first scan. Taken from camera footage obviously... back when he thought they were only have one child and Mami placed her bet. Back when he thought he’d have his Mami through it all. Back before Allura had dropped her foresight in their lap, and back before everything fell apart. It felt impossible to get Allura’s words out of his head. So he’d done what he did best when stressing, he’d cleaned. Cleaned and organised. Everything in its correct place, normalcy restored one room at a time. The Pidge and Hunk had climbed into bed with them, and... it’d been kind of nice seeing how long it’d been. Keith was left coffeeless, but that was okay because he was there to guide his sleepy boyfriend from the chaos.

This was his first Christmas without Mami, ever. It wasn’t even Christmas Day by a long shot. Presents were a distraction. Opening Mami’s was the hardest... then they dropped one last present on him as he lingered over opening the presents for the twins

“Lance?”

Shooting Hunk a wobbly smile, he’d heard them coming. Kind of glad it wasn’t Keith. He didn’t want to burden his boyfriend with a mess of feelings when all he wanted was Keith to feel part of their Christmas traditions. Being the tech nerd she was, evenings meant losing repeatedly and watching her and Hunk get progressively drunker through the night. He’d tuck them in, Pidge would be bragging about her winning right until she fell asleep

“Hey guys. I’m okay”

Dropping down beside him, both his best friends leaned into him

“Dude. We’re sorry about Mami”

“You guys did nothing wrong. I love that photo. I just miss her”

Wrapping their arms around him, Lance didn’t know who to hug back first

“I miss her too. She like super believed in me. Told me to show those boys how a real woman took on technology”

“Remember how she made all that extra food for our exams...”

“Mhmm... and Lance disappeared, so she called us to come over and visit”

“Remember the first time we met her...”

Pidge laughed at Hunk. Hunk had stammered so badly Mami couldn’t stop laughing at him to relax

“Yeah. I thought she was too cool to be related to Lance”

Lance sighed softly

“She really was the coolest. I miss her... I miss her so much”

Pidge eased off, letting Hunk pull Lance up against his chest as Lance started to cry

“We know you do, buddy. We know. We do too. She was the best to go to the fair with. Always cheering us on”

“She loved you guys. God. She loved you both so much. I thought... so many times I thought that this was it. Then she’d rally through, talking about how she’s a tough old bird...”

“I don’t think she’d want to see you crying like this. She’d call you out and say you’re too soft hearted”

Lance snorted

“Yeah. Yeah, she’d tease me. But... she was like... like my number one supporter. She protected me from everything. And I feel like I didn’t do enough for her”

Pidge punched his arm

“Idiot. Mami loved being with you. And you loved being with her. We all knew you were a total Mumma’s boy”

“That’s... that’s because... She never looked at me differently. When they... my siblings cut ties, she kept them all in line. I ruined my whole family and she’d tell me I didn’t. She didn’t blame me when it got too much for Rachel. Or... or how many nightmares I had. She’d reach for me and hold me in her lap. Sometimes she’d sing me to sleep, and sometimes she just knew I needed her to hold me. I’m sorry... I know I’m not... not okay... I just...”

“Man, she was your mum. Pidge and I are just happy you’re home again. We really missed you”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you guys”

Deciding she needed hug, Pidge wrapped her arms around the pair of them, digging her chin into Lance’s shoulder

“It’s okay. If you’d up and left we would have totally hacked your devices and found some way to track you down. You didn’t leave because you hated us, right?”

“No! No... I could never hate you guys. But... I wasn’t sure about coming back”

“Dude, we get it. I mean, you were mostly here because of Mami. You like to overthink too much”

“Careful, Pidgeon, you’re starting to sound too much like Keith”

Pidge sighed dramatically. Lance glad she hadn’t screamed in his ear. She was so excited over this Christmas party that Lance wondered how many coffees she’d downed before coming over and if she’d slept at all the night before

“I hate to admit it, but he’s got a point. You’re back with us now, and you’re stuck with us. Like super stuck. I mean, I could superglue myself too you, if you’re not getting the point, but I think it’s against some kind of universal law to glue yourself to a pregnant person”

Lifting his arm, the angle was awkward as Lance hugged Pidge without having to move away from Hunk’s chest. His two besties were the best friends anyone alive, or dead, could ask for

“I think Keith would be mad, plus being a vampire means throwing up what you eat... and we all know how much you love the sight of vomit”

“This pregnancy isn’t working in my favour. At least I know I’m in prime position for favourite aunt”

“There’s always Shay. Seeing she knows... Which I’m betting you haven’t had her sign a non-disclosure agreement over���

That Shay now knew meant there was a massive weight taken off Hunk’s relationship with her. He didn’t need to know Hunk and Shay had done the do. Hunk was his best buddy. The feelings it brought up were the same feeling about hearing Shiro and Curtis, or Matt and Rieva, meaning as long as it was consensual it was absolutely none of his business. Hunk let out a long moan of what Lance assumed was despair, before shaking his head

“I didn’t mean to tell her. She was talking about you being gone, and not coming back and why you vanished in the first place when that was completely unlike you... and it kind of slipped out. I thought we were over. She left pretty much as soon I’d told her...”

Pidge took over from Hunk

“Then she called me up, talking about Hunk saying some really weird things. She was as freaked as I was to know these things existed. I told her to listen to Hunk and that he wasn’t crazy, and Shay was crazy enough to go back and demand answers”

Yeah. No. Lance wouldn’t have able to handle it. He was slightly cowardly and he knew it. Though... he hadn’t really had much of a life not knowing about the things in the dark

“I don’t think I could have handled it”

Pidge giggled

“She already thought you were a bit weird. The teeth totally didn’t help with all the flashing around you did, and she had her own theories about you being ill. She’s not as good of an investigator as I am, but she’s got potential”

Hunk defended his girlfriend, Lance not sure how he felt about Shay thinking he was weird when he’d been so nice to her in the past

“She’s still learning. Shay is so smart, I’m sure she’ll catch up in no time. We weren’t that good when we started”

“Maybe. She’s better than Matt. People want to see more of my “Hot Brother”. Like, excuse me?! Matt isn’t hot, and he’s not that smart either. We’re making a show about ghost hunting, not about my brother”

Eh. Sometimes he could throttle Matt and wish an in anaesthetised neutering upon him, yet, he wasn’t ugly. Objectively Lance assumed a lot of people would find mind Matt attractive

“Matt’s not completely unattractive. Like you’re pretty cute for a criminal mastermind”

Pidge made a fake retching sound. Matt to busy arguing with the others over how to hang the photo frame over the fireplace. It’d look nice there, better then the mirror and above his little shrine of super important things on his mantle

“Dude, that’s my brother. No. You’re not allowed to say that”

“I’m very happily taken by Keith, so you don’t have to worry about me climbing into bed with your brother. If anything I should be worried about Matt climbing into bed with me”

Pidge detached herself. Lance clinging to Hunk like gum to the bottom of a shoe. At this point someone might have to scrape him off. Anxiety was so cruel. The voices in his head telling him over and over that they’d never forgive him and he should rid them off the curse that was knowing him. He’d been preparing his heart, knowing he’d break theirs if he chose Cuba over coming home. Blue would go to Hunk, who’d make sure his princess would have all the wet food that her highness could desire.

“You guys are weird. Like, super weird. I get that you’re close, but why would Matt climb into bed with you”

“It’s a wolf thing. They have a high sex drive. I’m a vampire so his ego is naturally ruffled, but my body can also take a lot more than human. Don’t worry, we punched it out and we’re friends. Rieva says I’m part of her pack, which is super weird for a wolf to accept a vampire”

Hunk was making his “confused face”. Lance didn’t have to see it to know he was. Pidge must be wishing she hadn’t gone there. A moment or two of thought passed before Hunk shrugged

“I don’t think it’s weird. They do live with you”

“Hunk, my sunshine. It’s not really a thing in my world. I’ve never hung around werewolves and vampires for longer than I could help it. Normally we’d both kill each other if we were strangers in the wrong territory. Even if we’re “domesticated” we still have strong egos that control us if we don’t keep a tight hold of them”

“But you helped them out”

Bless Hunk from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet

“Yeah. But there’s all this instinct bullshit. Sometimes the smell of Rieva and Matt still makes my face go all vampire like and my nails get super long and scary. I guess maybe if you think of as being drunk and trying to act sober. There’s that part of you that’s all party with no fear and could anything. I don’t know how to really explain ego to you. It’s just there for me”

“Well... we’re here for you too. Shiro says we’re having a baby shower soon”

Pidge wasn’t having a topic change by Hunk on her watch

“Excuse me, but I think we were actually crowning me best aunt”

“Shay would make a great aunt. And a great mother...”

“Can I not have anything to myself?”

Oh dear. He’d better not mention Allura

“Now, now. We all know Curtis would make a great aunt too”

“He doesn’t count. You two are too into those weird soap operas. Plus, Shiro said he’s the best uncle, so Curtis is already one up”

“What about me?”

Lance nuzzled into Hunk’s chest. He loved cuddles with Keith, but Hunk cuddles were a whole other feeling

“You’ll be the very best uncle. As for a baby shower, can we wait? Until things have settled down and we’re closer to June?”

Pidge tugged on his arm

“But we want to celebrate”

“And you will. That reminds me, should I be worried about Keith’s present?”

“Oh, absolutely. We’re got to borrow you both for a bit, but we think he’ll be happy”

Putting two and two together, Lance bit down his groan. Obviously Keith’s bike was at Hunk’s dad’s garage. Great. Now he’d have to worry about Keith out on it

“I know what’s happening. I don’t think I want to think about him back on his bike”

“How did you know?”

“Call it one of my many vampire senses. You guys can borrow him. I don’t want to see that death trap. He’s still got the scars from the accident”

“Fiiiiine. We’ll borrow him. It’s not our fault if he comes back smiling”

Lance smiled at the thought of Keith smiling. He loved it. He loved how unguarded Keith could be when he let his walls drop and let himself be happy

“He does that”

“Much more than when we met him. You’re completely to blame”

Blame was such a dirty and ugly word. Still, if he was to blame for Keith’s happiness, he’d take all the blame in the world.

[diaryofaboringstudent]

#1 (7/24/21)

this will technically be posted past midnight, making it my 7/25 entry, but i tend to get to bed past midnight every night, so chances are my journal entries will be posted at around this time.

i want to turn this blog into my journal because i fancy writing my thoughts, but my handwriting is honestly sh*t, plus my hands hurt after i write five words down. here, i can spill my guts about my boring life and not fear anyone figuring out who i am, plus this isn’t a written diary that could be lost and never found.

today we celebrated my grandmother’s birthday and it was quite fun. just a few hours ago, my aunt made me watch jeepers creepers, and it was honestly pretty scary. i didn’t jump or scream or anything, but i have a very uneasy feeling in my stomach. hopefully i’m able to sleep, although i am afraid to turn the lights off tonight. despite that, today honestly wasn’t terrible. my aunt and grandmother are staying tomorrow as well, so hopefully we do something fun before they both have to travel back to new york.

i’ve been stressed because i’m taking an online class and i’m extremely behind in my assignments. i haven’t turned in any of the written work, which is all due this upcoming thursday. my issue is that i simply do not understand the assignments at all. but if i fail this class, it’ll completely ruin my schedule for the fall, so i have to figure out something. i’m so worried but once this class is over, i hopefully don’t have to stress so much.

also, i’m so upset with myself because i was supposed to exercise this summer break and lose weight before returning to uni. i’m the same weight if not more, and i’m extremely overweight, which sucks. and unlike a lot of other overweight people, my fat is distributed poorly. i’m big in my stomach and calves and i have wide shoulders, but my ass is flatter than paper and my boobs are big but only because i’m naturally big. it bothers me because a lot of the girls i go to school with are thin and beautiful. and i’m not the type of person who thinks thin is better than thick. but i’ve never seen an unattractive thin person. i have, however, seen an unattractive fat person - myself. i still have a little over a month before i have to move back to the dorms, so hopefully i can get my life together and shed a few pounds? we’ll see.

that’s probably it for this first journal. my life is honestly so boring and nothing really goes on, though i’m hoping once i’m back at school, i can have more stuff to talk about.

thanks for reading <3

e

[quirklove]

I beg of you- some soft Tomura, Compress, and Setsuno headcanons, please. I’m on my simp shit rn

aw, you don’t have to beg!! I’m constantly on simp mode for these babes

soft soft soft soft!!!!

ATSUHIRO

Is always humming something or other when he’s around his S/O. It might be an old nursery rhyme that’s stuck in his head, it might be some catchy pop tune that he keeps hearing on the radio, it might even be their favorite song. He’s nearly always an outgoing personality, but his S/O makes him so happy it puts that extra little spring in his step.

He’s a man of culture, (Name)! Somewhere he has a small stash of money from his past that he can draw on, so every once in a while, he likes to treat his friends and his S/O. (Most of the time, that cash goes to making sure they all actually have enough to eat or emergency supplies, and it’s obviously not too much money, so he doesn’t do this horribly often.) If anyone else will join him in disguise, he might be inclined to go with his S/O to a play or musical… perhaps even a ballet if the tickets are affordable enough. If no one else comes, ah, that’s alright; he’ll go with (Name) anyway, then bring back a slightly nicer dinner than normal for everyone else so that they aren’t left out. Maybe once or twice a year he does this, so everyone better enjoy it!

Noooo, he doesn’t wear the balaclava when he goes to bed, nor is it the first thing he puts on in the morning. He loves those times ― lying down to sleep and waking up. He gets to feel so vulnerable and exposed with his S/O, having them stare at him with his entire face uncovered, feeling their hands run through his hair like only ever allows in private. Plus, the fact that their gorgeous face is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes in the morning? God. He’s gone soft. At least that softness is only for them, otherwise he might have a problem.

He likes to play cards with his friends and S/O if they’re not busy. No missions means he’s at the bar playing poker with Kurogiri, or war with Dabi, or… well, all Tomura ever plays is let me turn the cards to dust because fuck your games, Compress. What a brat!! One can practically see his face light up behind whatever mask he has on when (Name) asks him to teach them a game.

No matter what, he makes the extremely conscious effort to always give his S/O some gesture of affection before he goes off on a mission. Whether it’s tipping his mask to lovingly kiss their cheek, giving their fingers a passionate squeeze, or pulling them close for a gentle hug, he won’t leave without doing it. It’s a subtle way of saying goodbye, just in case things might go sideways. He acknowledges that the League’s affairs are incredibly dangerous and illegal; they could all die on any mission. He wants his beloved’s potential last memory of him to be something good. If he ends up dead, he doesn’t want them left with any doubt as to the fact that whatever else is true, he adores them very, very much and wants them to be happy.

TOMURA

Nightmares are a frequent thing with him, unfortunately. Sometimes it takes the form of memories, remembering the night his Quirk activated, leaving him with the image of crying in the middle of a circle made of his family’s corpses. Sometimes it’s a horrifying scenario in which Decay works on him, where he wraps his arms around himself and feels himself disintegrate piece by piece. Sometimes it’s his literal worst nightmare, a scene where he touches his friends or his S/O and they turn to dust in his fingers. Sometimes he wakes up screaming, his hands balled into fists so hard his nails are digging crescents into his palms and drawing blood, just so he can’t hurt anyone he cares about. Having his S/O take him in their arms and hold him close, kissing his face, whispering that he’s safe, reminding him that they’re here for him… he might not get back to sleep, but he finds comfort enough to stop crying within an hour.

There is one lone, solitary, singular way (Name) can get him to wear lip balm. That would be… to apply a surplus of it to their own lips, and proceed to give him as many kisses as he’ll allow them to in one go. Sure, the chapped lips aren’t unattractive ― but they’ve gotta hurt like hell. Just let your loving S/O lessen your pain a little, Tomura, you gigantic baby!! Also, they should pick a novelty flavor when they do this. It increases the number of kisses he’ll accept when their lips taste like vanilla frosting or Dr. Pepper.

Is like… the worst at any kind of self-care. He forgets to wash/comb his hair, he definitely doesn’t shower quite enough, he’s had at least one infection from not taking care of the wounds on his neck. The only reason he isn’t dead is Kurogiri, and later gains another reason; his S/O, obviously. Whenever he’s not working on his and All For One’s plans, he’s playing video games, and trying to get him away from that is like pulling teeth. However, his S/O has turned out to be very good at doing that. They can easily entice him with a warm shower together, and he’s pretty sure he’s never felt something as amazing as their fingers massaging his scalp as they wash his hair. Even though the ointment they want to put on his neck smells like medicine, he tolerates it simply because it feels nice when they rub it on. They’re always so gentle with him, and it just about breaks the poor man.

When encouraged and left in a non-stressful environment, Tomura is actually not terrible with children. He’s awkward, sure, he’s grumpy, sure, he doesn’t suffer brats, sure, but all things being equal, he does alright. Most of the time he’s not too scary around kids, or at least doesn’t act scary. (His appearance freaking some of them out, ah… that’s another story.) Though he’d have to do a lot of preparation, he might actually put an incredible amount of effort into learning if he found out he was going to be a father. How the man can’t manage to muster up the motivation needed to wash his clothes before wearing them a second time, yet can summon the will to read a ton of different parenting books, the world will never know. The point stands ― having a child combined with his love for his S/O would be a huge catalyst for his realizing that he doesn’t hate everything and everyone, and the world isn’t all bad.

Whenever he wants to touch his S/O in a sweet, intimate way but doesn’t feel comfortable or safe using most of his hand, he’ll use one finger. He might curl his fingers in to run his thumb gingerly over their cheek, or trace his knuckle down the side of their arm, or use the tip of his index finger to draw down their spine so he can see them arch their back. Tomura has never, ever had this before. Despite knowing he has to be careful, that he wants to be careful with them, there’s something endlessly fascinating to him about seeing how they react pleasantly to his touch when all his touch has ever done before is destroy. This also works in reverse; he wants to experience every possible touch of theirs that they’re willing to afford him.

TOYA

When he sleeps with his S/O, he really, really loves to be the little spoon. (He’s pretty well convinced that anyone who says they don’t, at least from time to time, is a liar!) It makes him feel safe and secure, like everything’s okay, like his S/O cares about him and wants to protect him. If he’s not being the little spoon, and sometimes when he’s the little spoon but facing them, he tends to cling in his sleep. His arms wrap tightly around their waist, his head buried in their chest or their neck or their back. It’s a product of his depressingly possessive nature; he loves them so much, they’re the best thing in his life, and he just… doesn’t want to lose them. Even while he’s asleep, he never wants to let go.

There are times Toya thinks about letting his hair grow out a little longer, to his shoulders maybe. The biggest thing that stops him is that he doesn’t know how he’d look with long hair. He isn’t sure he’d look that great or that he has the face for it! He’s a little afraid that with his more delicate features, having hair longer than it is now would lead to him being mistaken for a woman. If he mentions it to (Name), he might be a little startled by their enthusiastic, “Oh, that would look so charming on you!” coupled with a reassurance that they love his appearance no matter what he decides to do with his look. As far as they’re concerned, even if he ends up not doing it, they’re still going to think he’s the most handsome man ever. Knowing they’d support it, though, makes him think about actually doing it.

He rambles a lot, particularly when he’s feeling anxious. He rambles a lot. That goes along with his hands fidgeting and sometimes his leg bouncing a bit if he’s sitting down. For some reason he finds it hard to sit still or be quiet. He feels the need to fill the silence with something. So he talks, about anything and everything and occasionally about nothing at all. Most of the time only his S/O (or sometimes a friend) placing a hand over his, threading their fingers together, can calm him slightly. Often a gentle kiss when he’s doing the motormouth thing will get his mind to slow down and focus… at least to the point where he kisses back, and happily drowns in them for a while.

While not ‘on the job’, Toya… is usually kind of unsure what to do with his time. He reads, he watches TV a lot, he… sleeps. God, he sleeps. He seems to spend his life in a weird state of either being asleep or seeming wired as hell. There’s not really an in-between for him, at least not for a long time. He has trouble finding balance, especially since he’s so depressed. It seems to other people that he’s got too much energy and doesn’t fit the profile of what many people think a depressed person looks like. In truth, this is probably more accurate than people would like to think ― he hides the fact that he feels numb or sad by masking it with upbeat, happy, sometimes crazed behavior. Thankfully, he can sometimes find real happiness with his S/O, and it’s because of them that he might seek any kind of treatment so that he can feel better more often. Good thing, too, because not only will he be chasing a healthy life… his smile, genuine, painless, unaltered by any kind of forced joy? His true smile is the most beautiful thing.

Okay, but the man… has a serious sweet tooth. Most of the Hassaikai have their own room, and they can fill it however they choose. Toya’s cabinets are filled with nothing but sugary snacks. Even though he does eat regular meals, or at least tries to, he has to have something with sugar nearby to eat between. Chocolate is his favorite; he’ll eat almost any kind of candy, pastry, or even fruit snacks. If his S/O is very lucky, he will share! Pro tip: playing the pocky game with him is guaranteed to end in a cute, maybe steamy makeout session. And kissing any leftover chocolate that gets stuck to his lips? Oh, he’ll blush so hard.

[unpopular-bishop]

hanahaki disease

Team tastes the petals, sometimes. They’re soft on his tongue, bitter between his teeth, but the worst thing about them is the look on Win’s face every time he realizes they’ve made an appearance while he’s making out with Team. Win’s not very expressive, not really, not about what he’s actually feeling, but Team can always see the hurt clearly before Win masks it with an apology and leaving to go cough up his flowers in private.

Sometimes Team has to spit the petals into his palm after Win has disappeared into the bathroom and he looks down at the crushed, damp white, feels the silk-smoothness between his fingers, and gets so angry that he accidentally crushes them in his hand.

He doesn’t understand, more than anything. Why Win’s coughing up flowers, why Win’s having sex with Team when he’s coughing up flowers, why he always comes out of the bathroom after throwing up a field’s worth of petals with a big smile and an offhanded sorry like it’s no big deal, like Team doesn’t have the taste of Win’s unrequited love for someone else in his mouth, on his tongue. He doesn’t understand why he just pulls Win back down and kisses him all over again, chasing the taste from between them until it’s just Win again.

He doesn’t understand, but he wants to - help. He wants to make sure Win doesn’t have to make that pained face when he’s with Team, he wants Win to feel happy when they’re together, even if Team doesn’t really understand why he feels like that or how exactly he wants to go about doing that. Win seems happy when they kiss though, and when they go places together. He seems happy when Team lets him play with his fingers under the table and when Team whines and wheedles his way into an extra bag of Lays after practice.

Win seems happy, smiling and laughing and looking at Team with soft eyes that always make Team feel weirdly warm and chilly at the same time - but then he’ll suddenly be choking on petals or trying to discretely use a napkin or tissue to get rid of a handful here and there. Team hates it. Part of Team wants to hunt down whoever planted the flowers in Win’s lungs and just beat them up until they figure out how to fix it. The rest of him doesn’t want that, because it would mean that they return Win’s feelings and then Win would - well. Win wouldn’t be making out with Team anymore, if he had the person who planted those flowers, to say the last. There wouldn’t be any more coffee or well-rested nights, no more cuddling after amazing sex or Christmas lights, no more forbidden pool kisses after practice when even Dean has left, no more surprise Lays bags in his locker or quiet knocking at two in the morning when one of them wants to sleep with another body in the bed.

But there wouldn’t be any more petals, either. No more painful coughing or bitter petals between Team’s teeth. No more fear that Win may one day be overcome if he lets the Hanahaki keep going, that it may overtake his vocal cords and steal his voice, or worse.

Team thinks if the person who planted the flowers were in front of him, he’d punch them - or yell, if it were a girl, at least. He can’t bring himself to hunt them down, but if they were in front of him, if he figured out who it was, then he’d definitely say something. Win is a good person; maybe the best person Team has ever met, definitely the best Team has ever kissed, touched, liked as much as he does. He deserves to be loved back, no matter who it is. Team thinks whoever it is is an idiot.

-

By the time Team realizes that he’s the idiot, and the coward, and the one who planted the flowers, and the one who is still somehow too scared to say anything, he’s come to like the taste of the petals as much as he hates it.

-

“Sorry.” Win waves away Team’s hovering hands, “Fuck, sorry -”

“Shut up, shut up, stop trying to talk,” Team whacks him roughly on the back, reaching down for one of the water bottles he’s always leaving on the ground around his bed even while Win is scattering petals on the sheets. Team shoves the water bottle into a limp hand and Win downs the entire thing in seconds, a pained grimace pulling at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

“Ow.” Win allows himself to say when the water is gone and he’s been able to breathe without coughs wracking his whole diaphragm for a full minute. Team knows it must have hurt just listening to it, but Win actually admitting to the discomfort is scary. Team has seen Win so sick he can barely speak and still refusing to admit to a sore throat.

Team is suddenly angry - at Win, at himself. This is stupid. This is so stupid. Win is hurting and Team’s been too scared for weeks now to tell him, to stop the petals. He doesn’t know what he’s scared of, not exactly, but it’s a bone-deep terror that fills him every time he thinks about opening his mouth and uprooting the flowers. Part of him thinks that if he just holds off, the petals will stop on their own. Win will realize that he doesn’t actually feel what he thinks he feels and the petals will go away. Team won’t have to say a thing. Another part of him is angry at Win. How could he think - how could he kiss Team and not just - just know? How can he think that there’s any reason at all for petals to be working their way out of his lungs when he feels the way Team’s heart skips beats when their fingers touch.

“Drink more water.” He says huffily and shoves two more half full bottles into Win’s hand. Win does it without argument and it just makes Team angrier. He stands up, shimmies his sweatpants on, and goes to the little fridge in his room to find some actually cold water and maybe some yogurt to soothe Win’s throat. Or maybe to throw in his stupid, handsome face. Both? Can he do both?

“Team.” Win says from the bed and Team stands up and shuts the fridge with more force than necessary. He’s pretty sure a couple other bottles fall inside, but he’ll worry about that when he isn’t feeling so - agitated.

“Don’t talk.” He grabs a plastic spoon and returns to the bed, shoving the yogurt into his hands, “Eat.”

“Team -”

“Eat, hia.” Team interrupts firmly and Win sighs and opens the yogurt mulishly. While he slowly swallows the yogurt, Team tidies up the sheets, brushing the petals off the bed. He hesitates to remember where he last put his broom, which is when Win strikes. Strikes may be a harsh word for it, because Win only reaches out and wraps careful, gentle fingers around Team’s wrist to pull him back down, but it feels like a blow to Team.

“Sit with me.” Win says in that quiet, almost-whisper that never fails to trip Team up. Even at his worst, Team can’t resist when Win uses that voice. So he sits and doesn’t let Win hold his wrist, but he does bump their shoulders together once before he puts a few inches of space between them. He sits silently and watches Win eat his yogurt and then drink the cold water slowly, like he’s trying to hold it in his throat to appease the soreness. Team has never had Hanahaki, luckily, but he knows it isn’t pleasant.

When he’s done, Win collapses back to the bed and rolls over until he can rest his face on Team’s leg. He throws a thigh over Team’s ankles, curls his body up enough to use Team’s thigh as a comfortable pillow and snuggles in with a quiet hum.

“Pet my hair, baby,” Win whines, “I don’t feel well. You have to take care of me.”

“It’s your own fault.” Team mutters, “Idiot.”

But he runs his fingers through Win’s hair, feels the strands and wonders how soft they’d be without all the bleach and chlorine. He just huffs again when Win buries his face in Team’s lap and breathes in and out deeply for a solid two minutes. Instead of complaining, he sorts Win’s hair carefully, observing how long his dark roots have gotten and then letting the thought drift away.

“It’s okay.” Win says eventually, that whisper-soft voice again.

Team doesn’t answer. He sniffles, instead, because his eyes have been burning since Win actually relaxed his weight into Team’s lap and he thinks he may lose the battle soon.

“Really.” Win pats his knee subs soothing circles into the muscle of his calf, “Don’t be upset, okay? It’s nobody’s fault.”

“It’s your fault.” Team tries to snap, but it comes out all uneven and whiney. He shoves a hand across his eyes to wipe away any traces of tears and returns his fingers to Win’s hair with purpose. He doesn’t know what the purpose is yet, but he has it in the way he parts Win’s hair and then ruffles it and parts it again in a new way. Win is totally lax in his lap, body long and golden and bare and beautiful. Team likes his tattoos.

Team likes Win.

“It’s my fault.” Win agrees with a smile Team doesn’t need to see to know is sad because he can hear it.

Team curls down to press his nose to Win’s hair, can smell the shampoo he used earlier on top of his own scent. He likes Win’s scent. He likes Win. He likes Win. He likes Win. He thinks Win can feel the damp spots where Team cries into his hair like a freak.

“Don’t they hurt?”

“No.”

“You’re lying to me, hia.”

“I guess they hurt. I don’t mind.”

“I wish they’d stop.” Team - doesn’t know which way he means that. If he wishes they’d stop on their own or if he would just say something to stop them.

“I don’t.” Win shrugs big and exaggerated and then snuggles into Team’s leg again. He reaches one hand out to bury into Team’s hair and scrub through it gently, ruffling his hair enough that Team knows it’s going to be sticking up in every direction. “I don’t mind them.”

“What if they steal your voice?”

“Then Dean will finally have to fill his own awkward silences and that will lead to some character development.”

“This isn’t a joke, hia! You could get really h-hurt and it’s - it’s my fault!”

Win goes quiet again for a long time and Team snuffles and swallows and is just - deeply unattractive because he isn’t a pretty crier the whole time. When Win turns his head so he can see Team with one mostly-closed eye, Team can finally see the little smile on his face. He looks happy. He doesn’t look like he’s in pain at all, even though Team still remembers the red at the corners of his mouth earlier, and there are pink-stained petals on the ground just out of sight.

“This is not your fault, Team.” Win brushes a thumb across his cheek, just under his eye, and Team leans in without meaning to. “You didn’t do anything to cause this.”

“Can’t you stop?” Team tries not to sound like he’s begging because he has his pride (too much of it).

“I really don’t think so, baby.” Win smiles wider, wipes another tear but misses a close second. It lands on his own cheek and Team is thumbing it away before he realizes he’s moved. Win’s skin is so soft. Team likes it. He likes Win.

“You’re such a -” Team starts, and then has to stop so he can lean down and kiss Win instead. Fool, perfect person, blind person. Why can’t Win just know? Why does Team have to find the courage to say it when Win should be able to taste how unnecessary those petals are on his lips?

Win tastes like yogurt. He opens up easily under Team and Team barely manages to not swallow him whole, if only because the angle is weird and uncomfortable.

“Team.” Win says between kisses, sounding strangled, but Team just kisses him quiet again.

“Just listen, hia,” Team does beg this time, “Try to understand, okay? Because I can’t - but I want - just try.”

And then he kisses him again, sliding his hands out of Win’s hair to cup his face and hold him. He tries to convey his confusion, his fear, his happiness, how much he likes Win, but worries that all he’s done is somehow managed to only convey horniness. Win kisses him back, makes soft, low sounds every time Team’s tongue meets his. He clutches at Team’s hair and his calf, leaning up to make it easier for Team to reach.

When Team gives up and sits back up to look at Win’s face, Win looks dazed, on his back now and both eyes blown wide and unfocused.

“Wow.” Win says, barely audible.

“Did you understand?” Team strokes a finger across Win’s eyebrow, finds a little mark that shows where a piercing may have once been. He’s known about it for months by this point, but he still likes to find it and imagine what Win looked like when it was still in use.

“Um.” Win blinks rapidly, until his eyes are more focused again and he’s looking at Team properly. He looks like he’s been smacked unexpectedly but in a good way, still, though, except where his brows have drawn together. “I…”

“If you understand, then stop with the stupid petals.” Team clears his throat, “They aren’t - that isn’t - oh, damn it.” he stops, trying to gather himself again. His stomach is rolling with anxiety, but he needs Win to understand, to hear, to know, even if he can’t say it yet.

Win smiles - small, and then slowly bigger until it curls his cheeks and squints his pretty eyes, until Team can’t do anything else but smile back helplessly in the face of it.

“I understand.”

“Good.” Team says quickly and then forcibly turns Win’s head back to the side and holds his face in place under the guise of going back to parting his hair, “Stop looking at me now.”

“Okay.” Win says instead of teasing him, even though the single word is plenty enough to make Team’s hackles rise on an ordinary day. He doesn’t fight against Team’s hold. Instead, he curls back onto his side and Team feels his face relax as he closes his eyes again. The smile stays, big and happy. Team’s expecting some sort of smugness later - but, for now, it’s just pure and giddy and infectious. Team can’t stop smiling either.

He continues to part Win’s hair slowly.

-

When they wake up, Win coughs up a whole flower, roots and all. When Team touches it, it blossoms big and wide, white petals curling toward him like he’s the sun. Win keeps smiling and, yes, there’s that smug edge Team’s been expecting the whole time. He can’t find it in himself to mind.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Sage

Summary: Chanyeol had gone to the extremes of warding off the spirit living in his new apartment. What he wasn’t ready for was just how adamant you were to stay.

Pairing: Park Chanyeol x reader

Genre: ghost au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Welcome to the first story in this week’s Haunted theme! This scenario is part of the Frightful October series this month. For more stories in this series, please check the Masterlist below.

Word count: 2674

[Frightful October Masterlist]

Throwing the blankets over his head, Chanyeol hoped this would muffle out the sounds around his apartment. It was fruitless; ever since he had bought his home there had been no way to get a decent night’s sleep. The pattering of feet across the tiles, the opening and shutting of doors, the humming - it would go on all night long. 

Chanyeol would be more understanding if he had a roommate. Or a pet that was allowed to roam freely around the home. Yet he had neither. It was just him in this brand new apartment.

Oh, and a ghost too.

He had figured the place was haunted about two weeks into living here. He had eliminated all the more obvious conclusions, making sure the doors and windows were latched closed before going to sleep, checking in to see if there was any possibility of an infestation of some kind, asking neighbours on the floor above if they were up late at night, and even replacing brand new light bulbs and batteries in appliances - you name it. 

You know, the more plausible reasons for noises around his home. Everything was new for a reason, and he was beyond exhausted from trying to rack his brain for an answer. 

It was from this sheer exhaustion that he found the cause of his night time interruptions. Now desperate, he threw his arms out and shoved the blanket off of his head, whining unattractively due to his lack of slumber. Eyes wide yet miserable, he stared at the ceiling in distaste. “I just want to sleep, would you stop it?!”

He hadn’t been this frustrated with his wording when he first figured it out. Instead, he had been tentative, almost chiding his sleep-deprived brain for even entertaining the idea. And yet, Chanyeol had sat up in his bed, chewing his bottom lip hesitantly before uttering the pressing question. “Is someone there? Knock three times if you are.”

A knock happened as soon as he was silent. Ears listening, a second and third soon followed and he had screamed, leaping up and running out of his apartment, going over to Baekhyun’s in the neighbouring complex and refusing to come back until the morning sun dispelled any chance of shadows. 

He had spent more than enough time hiding out in his friend’s apartment that the purchase of his new home seemed pointless. And it was with that mindset that he was back, now annoyed more than anything else. How dare a spirit come and make themselves at home in his newly built apartment! He had worked all too hard for this place, and he wasn’t prepared to give up without a fight.

The noise only stopped momentarily, perhaps now listening for what he would do next. Instead of the usual humming or running around out there, his mouth fell apart at what he heard now.

A melodic laugh. 

His unwanted guest was now mocking him.

Chanyeol managed to get some sleep into the early hours of the morning, though it wasn’t nearly enough to start his day out with. Even with copious cups of coffee, he was unable to be as productive as he hoped to be at work. Though he was definitely wired on his way home. This didn’t come from the coffee, however, but from what he planned to do.

He wouldn’t allow his haunting spirit to continue driving him out. After all, they didn’t pay rent or even respect his much-needed hours of rest. So he would get them to leave instead. 

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, he walked over to his kitchen countertop, placing down his bags of supplies. For some reason, perhaps because he had established he wasn’t living here alone, he knew he was in the company of his unwanted guest immediately and smiled brightly.

“Time to make this place spirit-free,” he proclaimed confidently, feeling somewhat manic with how excited he was to try all the things he had read online to do.

First, he took to sprinkling salt along the windowsills, ensuring to even do so in his spare bedroom. He then lit an incense stick he had picked up from the store he had gone to for advice after finding out about their services online in his Google search of warding off evil spirits. The clerk had also suggested some cleansing crystals and Chanyeol placed them around his apartment, hoping he had chosen the best spaces to do so. Admittedly, he was feeling a little out of his depth now. Although he had been actively soaking up the advice he received and was willing to do anything, when he got to the final element of lighting up a bunch of sage to smudge around the apartment, his confidence faltered a little. Why was he even doing this? He felt stupid, waving it around now with less enthusiasm. Desperation had led him to this point, but now he wondered if he was just going crazy instead. That there was no spirit keeping him up at night, just an overactive imagination. He was easily frightened, so had he simply scared himself into believing someone was there? That the knocks were something he so badly wanted to hear irrationally or not that he had conjured them himself? Chanyeol grew confused, holding onto the sage mid-air and zoned out with his problematic thoughts.

“Careful,” someone said, and he blinked softly, head tilting towards the warning. “You might burn yourself.”

Shrieking in realisation, Chanyeol pointed the bunch at the apparition before he passed out from the shock.

When he came around, you were staring back at him, your expression concerned. He blinked slowly, wondering if he was actually awake or not. In the evening light, you didn’t look scary at all. Your long tresses fell around you like a halo, and your smile made you seem kind, approachable. Your hand was on his gently and you knelt beside him, knees against his waist. 

It was then he realised just how cold he was. 

“You’re not real,” he murmured and you pouted sadly, your smile evaporating.

“That’s not very nice to say to someone who’s sat beside you all this time. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell. Do you know how hard it was for me to drag this pillow over here for you to rest upon?”

He glanced to the edge of the pillow his head was now placed on and then chuckled. “If I hit my head, then you’re definitely not real.”

“Yet you acknowledge my existence every night,” you retorted, your cherry coloured lips now pursing together with amusement. “You’re a hard human to please.”

Slowly sitting up, Chanyeol glanced at you properly. He noticed the aura of light surrounding you, that along with the coldness of your touch, distinguished you from the living. You were his problematic guest. 

He had to admit, he hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful. 

“What were you even attempting to do? Are you foolish? It looks like you were tricked into buying a whole lot of unnecessary stuff.”

“I’m trying to get rid of you,” he breathed heavily, and you snorted which irked him immensely. Beautiful or not, if you were the spirit causing him to miss out on sleep, he needed you to leave peacefully.

“Well, you’ve gone about this all in the wrong way,” you told him thoughtfully, pointing to the windowsill. “Salt?”

“It keeps evil spirits out.”

You nodded whilst smiling. “It also keeps whatever is already inside here. Shouldn’t you put that up when I’m gone? That being, if I was actually evil.”

He didn’t answer you, though you did smile wickedly with that last part. You then moved over to one of the smoky quartz stones on his bookcase and admired it. 

“That works against negative energies,” he explained and you grinned.

“Hopefully yours will ease up then,” you remarked with a giggle and he gaped at you, connecting it to the one he had heard last night. You turned to Chanyeol, still smiling. “It’s really pretty though. Is that Frankincense?”

He nodded, albeit weakly. You seemed well-versed in these wards. 

“And finally the sage,” you announced, picking up the bundle he had once held. He stared at the floor where it still remained, or at least a bundle did. You admired the one in your hand and then held it out towards him. “I really love sage. It reminds me of my Grandmother. Did the lady at the store tell you all this would get rid of me?”

Chanyeol rubbed at his temples and groaned. “Shouldn’t it?”

“Sure, if I was a bad spirit. But I’m not so it doesn’t affect me. Well, the salt does. It means I’m trapped here, with you. Spirits can’t cross over it after all.”

“You’re not bad?”

You shook your head adamantly. “Do I look evil?”

“You look beautiful,” he breathed, ears now turning pink. Chanyeol then shook off his daze. “Which could be a trap.”

“If I was evil, would I really bother myself with something so trivial as enjoying a home? It was so cold on this lot until they built us a new place.”

“Us?” he repeated and you nodded. “There’s more of you?”

“Well, not in this apartment. This is where my home was once. But Old Maggie is down the hall and Frank is up two floors. There’s even a whole family downstairs!”

Chanyeol vaguely remembered the rumour that a fire had happened here ten years ago. He hadn’t lived in this city then, and there was an overwhelming hush whenever it was raised between residents. He realised now that his new home was once someone else’s. You nodded dramatically. “That’s right! You’re actually a guest in my home. Or maybe, we’re roommates. I like that. In fact, I’ve been using your spare room. It’s nice and quiet in there.”

He snorted at your preference for peace. “It’s not quiet for me.”

“About that,” you eased into it, becoming apologetic. “I’m not quite used to living with someone else. I tend to be a night owl, even when I was alive.”

“You’re telling me, you’re not being a nuisance on purpose but out of habit?”

Clasping your hands together you laughed awkwardly.” Originally, yes.”

“But…”

“Now, I’ve been a little wicked. It’s just that you’re so adorable when you get annoyed! You puff up your cheeks and look much like a child. It’s rather amusing given how tall you are, Chanyeol.”

He wasn’t even ready to question how you knew his name and left it down to being a ghost. You smirked at his avoidance and waited for him to continue. “You’re teasing me on purpose?”

“Well, you asked if I was there and I told you I was. And then you left. You know, it was rather rude of you. I was hoping we could have a proper introduction and-”

“But you’re a ghost and I’m... and I think I’m going insane.”

“I’m Y/N,” you announced brightly, holding out your hand. “An introduction is better late than never. And I doubt you’re going insane, though perhaps if the shoe was on the other foot and I found a handsome stranger in my home, I would question my sanity as well.”

Chanyeol glanced around the room, wondering whether he should laugh or cry. Instead, he got up and made his way down the hallway to his bedroom, climbing under his blankets. You had followed him precariously, your face riddled with worry as he moved around after hitting his head. Before he closed his eyes, he gave you a stern look. “I want to sleep without any interruptions. Can you do that?”

“I no longer need to prove my existence to you so you won’t have to worry about that. When you wake up, you won’t ignore me, will you?”

Chanyeol smiled, nodding in agreement before closing his eyes. 

He hoped this was all a dream.

When he woke up the following morning, Chanyeol felt well-rested. He hadn’t stirred to anything overnight and the house was still silent even now. Smiling, he sat up and admired his bedroom and the morning light infiltrating through the blinds. He was certain you were gone. A beautiful nightmare that had now left and allowed the sun to shine through into his life. He rejoiced with a long stretch before getting out of bed, padding over to the door and across into his bathroom. Washing the sleep off his face, he then looked up into the mirror, smiling happily to himself. 

“Someone had a good night’s sleep,” you enthused and he shrieked, dropping the razor he had just picked up from the counter. Spinning around, he found you grinning at him in the doorway. “Or the crystals are working well on levelling out the negativity in your mood.”

“You’re still here?!” 

You nodded, now offended. “I held up my part of the deal, now you have to adhere to yours. Acknowledging my existence matters to me.”

“Y/N,” he called and you smiled all too happily, stunning him with how lovely you appeared. Shaking off his stupor, he then sighed. “You can’t live here with me.”

“Why not?”

“Well, shouldn’t you be moving on or something like they show in the movies?”

You shrugged. “I’ve tried that but it looks like I’m Earthbound. I don’t mind it, really.”

“Well, I do.”

You fell silent, and Chanyeol was surprised by how guilty he felt. Turning, he reached out for you on instinct, his hand brushing through you and feeling a drop in temperature. He sighed. You stared at him, unblinking and took in a shaky breath. “Try again.”

“Try… touching?” he questioned and you nodded feebly, balling your hands up as if it would give you the might for him to connect with you. Now feeling sheepish at trying to touch a spirit, he attempted again half-heartedly, gasping noisily when he actually caught your arm. “Wait, how... can I do this?”

“I’m not sure really, but I don’t like it when people go through me. It makes me miserable. I’ll try to be quiet at night as long as you accept me here during the day.”

“Well…” he started, your gaze now pleading with him. It was ironic how far he had come in such a short span of time to now be considering the feelings of someone who had been such a nuisance to him all this time. Knowing the reason why softened his heart some and he nodded without too much thought. “We’re roommates?”

You reached out rapidly for his hand and shook it much to his disbelief. “Oh, I’m so glad you accept me! We shall be the best of roommates! I promise I’m not all trouble! I like to clean and will try my best to help you out, although it does take a lot of effort for me to reach into your realm. Much more than you reaching into mine!”

He stared back at you dumbfounded, trying to take it all in. How you could exist, how he could see you now. How you had the ability to pick up copies of things in his home and they still sat where he left them. It was confusing the longer he thought about it. 

Your hand connected coolly with his cheek then and you smiled brightly at him. “Let’s just take it slow, shall we?”

“Slow would be good,” Chanyeol agreed, his heart thumping with your hand on his face. He started to worry that since he had entertained the idea of sharing his home with his now-friendly ghost that he would accept the more obvious attraction he had for you as well.

Taking in a deep breath as you prattled on about leaving him to shave and do manly things in peace, Chanyeol nodded to himself. 

He’d take one day at a time. And if you liked the sage, well, you couldn’t be all that bad.

Perhaps he would find some good from your haunting after all.

_________________

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[aestheticritique]

For young men (Part 1)

In my latest lockdown induced depressive episode I have been meeting some new people online. They are all young, male, mostly heterosexual, very nice and extremely considerate. However, they also are often afraid becoming a burden, insecure in their appearance or social skills, and often struggling with mental health. Given this, they are also usually extremely afraid of never finding themselves having sex or getting into a meaningful relationship in the late stage neoliberal capitalist dystopia we find ourselves in. To be honest I didn’t understand them at first, especially their obsession with sex. But the more I am thinking about it, the more I realize that we are united in the same dynamic of seeing sex or love as magic verfication of... What?

Growing up, I used hookups as a way to prove to myself that I am worth something. I thought that my value was defined by men’s desire. I originally in writing this wanted to show my perspective from the other side of the same coin, but after realizing how much of an undertaking that would be, I decided to start with the two most common answers from men used as justification to why they think they won’t get laid. These are things I find will help these kinds of people out, but as a great thinker once said...

“I can’t mom you through this one, boys. You are on your own.” - Contrapoints

(I link songs I like through out btw, the underlined text are links you can click on)

Foreword: Social factors

The average age of first intercourse has been rising in the US. Teenagers have less sex than ever before. These changes will affect you. In teen movies and shows charakters often experiment with sexuality before the age of 18. Everything else is played as an abnormality. If we compare ourselves to this misrepresentation of teenage sexuality, of course we seem like the losers.

“The proportion of young people who have had sexual intercourse increases rapidly as they age through adolescence”. It’s very likely, at least from my view, that you are just going to grow out of the awkward zone of wanting intimacy but not getting it. Just like you grew out of other things, such as bad musical taste or that one gaudy outfit. Don’t stress over this one specifically either.

Adolescence is weird for all of us. Even if your first encounter is after college, let’s be real here: having such a good thing in your own place without your parents looming or having to share your room with a roommate you barely know is so much better anyway.

The Ugly fuck too

A common answer to my question why they think that they will never have sex is that they are “unattractive”. The implication being, that sex is the prize for looking a certain way.

But is it? We are so used to the perfect, porn-ready bodies in the media that we forget that the Ugly fuck too. We never see the foldes of fat and skin, never see acne warriors or moles, never see people who actually look like us.

In the movie “The Parasite”, there is a scene where the husband of Gook Moon-gwang, the former housekeeper, is implied to have sex. (the clip, starts at 3:00) It gave me weird feelings of discomfort, as the illusion so stereotypically found on the silver screen was not present. These two characters are not pretty. They look old. She is fat and he is a balding skeleton. They are not special, and that’s okay.

Being fuckable does not equal beauty. Being fuckable does not equal beauty. It was a terrifying thought initially for someone like me who defined their value over beauty & their beauty as being fuckable. It might also be a scary thought for someone who doesn’t think that they deserve love and intimacy because of their looks. I promise you that you still deserve love! Sex did not cure my problems with my appearance, or the fact that I based my self-esteem on the way I look. It will not make you feel normal. It will not make you feel better, prove your worth or even give you more self esteem in the long term beyond the initial rush of dopamine. It is not a caravan to fulfillment.

Beauty is a concept that is based on exclusion. Allow yourself to feel the pain of being excluded, of not reaching the impossible beauty standards and the disadvantages that come with it. Allow yourself to feel the fear of not being “man enough” and be happy in spite of it.

“Patriarchal masculinity teaches us to control our pain, but it can block us from experiencing the grief that is part of a full life. Chasing pleasure and controlling pain is patriarchal. Opening ourselves up to joy and grief is to be fully human.”

”Those of us in that skinny nerd category are especially prone to thinking that we aren’t “man enough.” [..] But the more I talked to men, the more convinced I became that almost all men at some point in their lives don’t feel man enough. Even the men I thought were the “real men” were scared.

That’s not surprising. Masculinity in patriarchy—that is, masculinity in a system of institutionalized male dominance—trains men to be competitive, in pursuit of conquest, which leads to routine confrontation, with the goal of always being in control of oneself and others. But no matter how intensely competitive one is, no matter how complete the conquest, no matter how many successful confrontations, and no matter how much one stays in control—men are haunted by the fear that they aren’t man enough, that they can never stop proving their masculinity.” - Robert Jensen

Stop comparing your appearance to other men’s. Start talking and bonding with them over your undoubtably shared insecurities rooted in society’s relentless toxic masculinity. Unlearning the things you’ve been indoctrinated into since conception is damn hard. I am still in the middle of it personally, but I promise you it is worth it. It will improve not only your relationships with other men, but also with yourself and that one girl you’re pining after.

There are a ton of resources targeted at women about self acceptance, but not many for men. Robert Jenson comes from a tradition of critical men’s groups. Even though I don’t agree with him on everything, he manages to scare most men (especially the kind I mentioned in the first paragraph) to their core, but also improves their lives drastically with his kindness and radical ideas. I implore you to look him up, and try your best to keep an open mind.

“A person who functions normally in a sick society is themselve sick.”

The other most common answer  to the initial question was “being socially maladjusted”, implying that sex is something you earn by behaving a certain way. It is ingrained in the way we talk about love. “Deserving love” is the best example. Neither love nor sex is a product of work. Love and intimacy are a lot like sleep. It is a slow but unconscious process. You slowly work into it, with no idea of what comes next, and then, after an agonizingly long moment, you’re there. The fall is not often expected or easy, is always exhilarating, but never the product of conformity to anything except comfort with who you are.

I do acknowledge that social settings can be weird, existentially unsettling, and full of unseen complexities. This is especially true if you are neurodivergent and / or struggling with mental health.  Being neurodivergent or struggling with mental health goes against the impossible, hegemonically masculine standard of always being in controll. It’s a common cause behind feelings of emasculation. Disregard that feeling, and remember that you deserve love, no matter how manly you are or are not, no matter how you behave.

Learning social settings are lot like learning to skate. In the beginning you will be covered in bruises, but with enough effort, you will be better at it. The chance of mistakes will get lower, but never zero. You will always have awkward situations, but that doesn’t mean that you are bad at them. It just means that you have room to improve still. Maybe consider getting lessons or joining a skate crew.

We tend to hyperfocus on the accidents. Think about how many nice conversations you had over the internet, text or otherwise. I ask you to value them. Value these positive experiences, value your friendships and acquaintances, value the people supporting you, online and offline. We tend to hyperfocus on meaningfull longterm friendships, just like we hyperfocus on love. Value your social enviroment, value someone who just made you feel ok for a moment. You are socially adapted, because you have a social enviroment you feel comfortable in, where you have relationships with people. The depth of a relationship is not messured by time, nor by physical touch. Being mindful of your feelings for the people around you can make you realize that you are less alone than you thought.

Some Tips

If you want to make friends additionally to that, here are some tips from someone, who is bad at social clues:

Join a group with a common interest or struggle: Book clubs, activist groups, selfhelp groups, they are great settings to meet new people and you already have a topic to talk about :)

If you feel save about it: Being open about your issues can help other people adapt to you and understand you better - especially in early on in relationships.

People sitting at the bar or smoking outside are generally more open for conversation

Don’t be afraid of getting rejected: They don’t reject you, when they reject a conversation with you. The reasons people don’t want to talk to you is very diverse. Stay respectful and polite.

Don’t expect to much: No one owes you a long conversation. A smalltalk is perfectly fine.

Learn to make compliments casually and learn to compliments that aren’t based on appearance.

Find a common ground (politically, a interest ect.) and talk about it

Take a improv class, seriously TAKE A IMPROV CLASS! (there are online ones, and sometimes it’s even free)

Here are some youtube videos by Anna Akana with more tips. (1) conversations, (2) how to be a better friend, (3) overthinking

Here are is a piece about being bad at relationship I liked.

Footnote: Trophies and muses

“We do not want to do the work of helping you to believe in your humanity. We cannot do it anymore. We have always tried. We have been repaid with systematic exploitation and systematic abuse. You are going to have to do this yourselves from now on and you know it.” - Andrea Dowkin

Behind the whole obsession with sex is often a distorted perception of women. Just remind yourself that women are human? Access to female bodies is not a human right. We are not trophies to push your ego. We are not there to inspire you or heal you. We are humans with agency. We desire love and being loved, just like everyone else.

I am tired, but I believe in your humanity...

xoxo,

aestheticritique