#it's 5:40 am when i wrote this

[omgeto]

☆ THREE ISN'T A CROWD — SATORU & SUGURU

summary: your best friends, geto and gojo, rail you in a hotel bed. that's it. that's the fic.

cw: afab!reader, finger fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration so mdni !!

an: I wrote this whilst drinking a big fat cup of tea, and eating a packet of stale biscuits. so no angsty romance today, just two besties appreciating you in their own special way. it is 5:40 am so I did not proof read this so ignore mistakes pls <;33

gojo and geto were mischievous on their own accords – but when together it was worse. so when you were sandwiched between them in your hotel room, since of course there was only one bed, you weren’t even surprised.

“this is not fair,” gojo mumbles, his lips curling into a mock pout as he exhales a huff of air. 

“oh don’t be a baby,” geto scolds, with a chuckle . gojo and geto bickered over who got to sleep where and after a lengthy game of rock paper scissors – it was gojo who had to face the wall. “you’ll get your turn soon.” you could feel geto’s breath on your neck as he was placed firmly behind you, his hands stuffed in your pants as his fingers caress your wet slit. 

“don’t be mean sugu,” you chastise, your hand trailing up gojo's back to his shoulder to turn him over, facing you, “there’s enough of me to go around.” gojo is needy, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting to taste all of you.

gojo didn’t think his plan would work, when he proposed it to geto he was swift in his agreement — the only thing left was you. their pretty little best friend. who they've both wanted a piece of, for years.

now that he’s got you, he couldn’t contain himself – if he wasn’t careful he knew he’d be cumming in his boxers too soon. he latches onto your neck sucking and biting his hands grabbing onto your tits, tweaking and pinching at your nipples.

“you’re hogging her,” gojo complains, as his fingers slip down to your cunt. geto adds another finger spreading your lips wider as gojo’s forces his fingers into you. they were both rubbing your pussy. your wetness making it easier for gojo to piston in and out of you and for geto to stroke and flick against your clit with his thumb.

“g-guys fuck, you’re both too much,” you whimper,  your hips thrusting towards gojo, slotting onto his fingers further. geto’s slides his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw before his hand grips onto it, his lips remain at your ears as he whispers, “you gonna cum for us baby?”

“yeah c’mon make a mess for us,” gojo adds, continuing his pattern of rubs and pushes in your pussy, its almost as if he’s committed the rhythm to memory. he was effortless in working with geto, both aiding each other to help you reach your climax. geto pinches your clint, hard, and you spray both of their hands with your cum – squirting all over them.

gojo’s eyes widen at the sight, “shit, i didn’t know you could do that” he exclaims, taking his fingers out of you, examining them as they glisten with your juices, “suguru, did she know that she could do that?”

geto ignores him, rolling his eyes at his friends over excitement, “wanna be wowed even further, taste her, i bet she’s sweet.” before gojo could comply you take his fingers in your mouth, practically choking on them as you suck off all your juices. 

“you taste good don’t you?” geto muses, pressing a kiss to your neck, you nod dumbly as you lock eyes with gojo still nibbling on his fingers. 

“hey suguru, can we try something with her,” gojo proposes, and geto nods, prompting him to continue, “i wanna stuff her. i want both of us to stuff her. 

“we can make that happen, can't we?” geto smirks, rubbing on your ass giving it a light smack, “come sit on my dick, i’ll take of you.”

“what about me?” gojo whines, groaning as you're pulled away from him and on top of geto. 

“you’ll get yours in due time, satoru,” geto scolds, taking out his dick giving it some light pumps before rubbing it across your slit. you force yourself down on him, your hands clawing at his chest as you push it down. you were already gushing at the feeling of geto inside of you, filling you whole. so the idea of having them both in you had you excited, grinding down onto geto’s dick as hard as he was thrusting into you.

“are you seeing this?” geto asks gojo, gesturing to the way your head was thrown back and your lips were clenched in your teeth, “the way our pretty friend here is all strung out on my dick?”

gojo’s eyes were focused on the way you bounced repeatedly on his best friends dick, furiously pumping his as the sight. the way your grabbed your tits and played with your nipples, moaning to the beat of geto’s thrusts, he knew he needed to be inside of you. 

he gets out of the bed, coming to kneel behind you, peppering kisses along your spine. “i think theres room for me, isn’t there?” he jests, slightly pushing you forward, eyeing the way geto’s dick slides in and out of you. 

you take a shark inhale at the feeling of gojo entering you, “you’re good,” geto reassures, “you can take us.” and you moan as you get used to the feeling of the both of them, their dicks rubbing together as they drive into you, instantly finding a rhythm. 

“you feel so fuckin’ good, w-way too good,” gojo moans, holds you from behind, his chest presses against your back, his hands cupping your boobs as his head rests on your shoulders. 

“‘m close,” geto mutters, smirking at the sight of you, the feeling of you. “you gonna let us cum inside of you? really keep you filled up.” you moan out in agreement, your head felt so foggy with the feeling of them both charging into you. geto gives gojo a knowing smile, and as if on cue, they both load into you showering you with their cum. you finish at the same as them with a high pitched moan, releasing onto them, feeling stuffed with all their cum, and yours, resting inside of you.

“now that,” gojo pulls out of you, pressing an appreciative kiss on the corner of your lips before collapsing on the bed with a blissful smile, “was fucking magical.”

“yeah i guess it was good,” geto chuckles, still inside of you, kissing you on your forehead, his hand slinging over your ass, as you slump on top of him, “how are you feeling?”

“you two are exhausting,” you joke with a smile, “but i can see why i kept you around as my friends.” although this was something that you yourself didn’t plan, you weren’t gonna deny that being freshly fucked and laid up with your two best friends wasn’t all that bad.

AN: I think you can see my heavy bias for geto come thru in this fic but oh well DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE I wrote this more for time than anyone else tbf BUT TELL ME WHAT U THINK since I am iffy on my smut skills

[mariasont]

The Manuscript - A.H

a/n: this was supposed to be based on t.s new song manuscript, but it didn't realllyyy turn out like that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: while unpacking you find a series of letters aaron wrote to you in college

warnings: angst, age gap (reader is 20s, hotch is 40s), haley and jack don't exist in this universe

wc: 1.3k

Your gaze swept over the towering stacks of boxes littering your living room floor, and with a resigned sigh, you began the daunting task of unpacking them. Your hands found the nearest box deftly lifting the flaps as you began to pull out its contents. Your felt the soft crinkle of paper beneath your fingers, and gently, you drew out a stack of letters, their edges softened with time, all neatly tied together with a string. 

Your heart seized a sudden halt as you realized just what they were. Your throat constricted, parched, as tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill over, your fingers coming to rest over your mouth. Instinctively, your body sank onto the cold hardwood floor, gently placing the papers down beside you. You had forgotten these had even existed, let alone made it with you on the move.

You didn't remember seeing them when you packed, did you? Your fingers shook slightly as they picked apart the knot, and with a hesitant touch, you reached for the first piece of weathered paper.

January 5

Honey, 

Your letter was a welcome surprise, far sweeter than any text message could be. I enjoyed spending New Years Eve with you too, and I hope this case ends quickly so I can take you on a real date. 

I'm glad to hear college is going well. Should you encounter any more issues with your professor, please let me know. You're a bright young woman, and I have no doubt he'll see that in time. I am looking forward to your next letter.

Yours,

Aaron

--

March 12

Honey, 

I'm glad you enjoyed our date as much as I did. At times, I find my thoughts wandering to you in that dress, and it's a welcome distraction. 

I'm glad you look forward to our letters, because I do too. And yes, rest assured, I'm taking all necessary precautions in the field. Don't worry, the team has my back, especially Garcia--she's got more eyes on us than stars in the sky. 

Goodluck on your psychology exam. I know you will ace it.

Yours,

Aaron. 

--

May 5

Honey,

I've read your letter several times, and I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to question your path. Trust your instincts--they've led you well thus far. Remember you are allowed to change your mind. Your parents will understand.

No matter what you decide, I have no doubt you will succeed. You have a rare combination of intelligence and empathy that will serve you well in any profession.

Once I'm back, how about we go to that restaurant you love? Consider it a date.

Yours,

Aaron.

--

July 19

Honey,

Summer suits you, I can tell--even from a distance. I'm proud of the work you're doing--shadowing at the occupational therpay office and working with children is no small feat. You'll have to tell me all about it when I get back.

The case is demanding, as they often are. And as for the sweatshirt, consider it yours. I had a feeling it wouldn't find its way back to me anyway.

We should talk about getting you a key to my place. Then you'll have no need to borrow my things--you'll have access to them whenever you wish. 

I love you. I'll say it again when I see you.

Yours forever, 

Aaron

--

January 14

Honey,

Congratulations on your first semester of OT school. I am incredibly proud of you and everything you have accomplished. Smarty pants. 

I'm glad to hear you've been using the journal I gave you for Christmas. I would give you a thousand if that's what you wanted. 

When I'm back, we'll celebrate your achievements properly. Until then, know I'm grateful for you every day. You've made me the happiest I've been, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron 

--

May 20

Honey,

Your last letter lingered on the topic of our age difference, and I've been giving it a lot of thought. It's a subject that, admittedly, has crossed my mind more than once. But let me reassure you, to me, it's the person you are, not the years you've lived, that matters most.

I understand the concerns that come with this, and I want you to know that it's okay. Your feelings are valid. We're navigating this together, and I remain certain in my commitment to you and to us. 

We'll talk more about this when I'm home. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

August 8

Honey,

I want you to know that I didn't mean to leave things unresolved, I'm sorry I was called away. I'm not writing to rehash the argument. I understand everything you said, and it's given me much to think about.

You are the most important part of my life, and us being at odds is more challenging than any case I've ever face. I love you deeply, and I'm committed to finding a way through this together. When I return, let's sit down and talk--really talk. I'm sorry for the way things were left, and I hope we can move past this. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

December 22

Honey,

I find myself at a loss for words yet compelled to write to you. I've had time to reflect on everything that happened between us. I'm deeply sorry for any hurt I've caused, and how things unfolded. My only wish was for us to want the same things. 

Please know, I will always be here for you, in any capacity you need. I hope you find someone who is worthy of you and can provide the life you deserve. You deserve someone who can walk with you through all stages of your life--someone who can give you the family you dream of. You have so much to offer.

You are an extraordinary person, and I have no doubt you will find great love and joy. And though it may not be with me, please remember, I still love you.

Yours always,

Aaron.

--

You hadn't even realized you were crying until your tears began to soak into the page, each droplet distorting the text as it spread. Your hand moved instinctively to your face, the fabric of your sleeve brushing against your wet cheek. A decade-old ache twisted inside you sharply, as fresh as if it were only yesterday.

You returned the letters to their stack, the bow tied as neatly as it was before, and laid them at the bottom of the box. As the papers found their place, your focus shifted, something else catching your attention--the journal he'd given you.

The sudden patter of footsteps coming down the stairs snapped you back to the present. Hastily, you wiped away the lingering tears and secured the lid on the box. As you turned, your face transformed with a practiced smile just as your seven-year-old daughter came skipping into view, her voice bubbling with excitement, "Mommy, mommy!"

Gathering her up in your arms, you showered her cheeks with affectionate kisses, her infectious giggles filling the empty house. 

"When is daddy going to be home?"

With a gentle smile, you replied, "Soon, sweetheart," while your fingers danced along her side, eliciting more giggles. "Do you want to help Mommy unpack?"

She quickly scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Mmm, no, not really."

You laughed, and your heart swelled with love so intense it almost hurt. The front door swung open, and your daughter's voice pierced the air once more with a, "Daddy!"

Her little feet dashed off as she rushed to greet him, leaving you to resume unpacking. You barely had time to refocus when you felt a gentle touch in your hair.  Aaron was there, kneeling to your level with a tender smile. 

"Hi, honey," he said, his hand pausing as he noted the redness around your eyes. "What's wrong angel?"

You reach for the letters, holding them out to Aaron with a half-smile. "Just revisiting the time you were this close to losing the best thing in your life," you tease, a laugh bubbling up. But as the laughter fades, it morphs into a sob.

Aaron's laughter mingled with yours as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "Yeah, that was a close one," he admitted, his voice a soft rumble. "Glad I came to my senses." 

[jellyclogs]

how op men react to you calling them darling prt.2

characters: Zoro, Sabo, Sanji, Marco, Buggy

y/n has she/her pronouns

Zoro:

“Excuse me?” Zoro laughed.

Your face was suddenly on fire. You hadn't meant to call him darling. You had meant to just ask, “Have you eaten.” you repeated. He looked way too much like the leading man in the romance novel you were reading. It wasn't your fault you called him darling it was the dam books.

“You're missing a part,” Zoro smirked, he was enjoying how flustered you were, it was pretty dang cute.

“Did you eat or not?” you huffed crossing your arms.

“Yeah I did,” he shot you a teasing look, “Darling.”

You thought your face was on fire before… well now it really had to be. You turned and rushed away from him. You might burst into flames from the intensity of your embarrassment. You were going to burn that novel.

“Something wrong darling?” he called after you in a laugh.

Sabo

“Hay Darling could you pass me those papers,” you called to the blond as he was passing your desk painting to a stack of paper across the room from you. You were so engrossed in your work that you hadn't even realized what you'd said.

Sabo froze, a smile coming to dance across his lips, “No problem sweetheart,” he said without skipping a beat. He grabbed the stack of paper before setting them on your desk.

You glanced up at him a puzzled look on your face, “Sweetheart?” you hummed, “What with the pet name Sabo?” you quirked a brow

Sabo’s smile grew, “You're the one who started it.” he wished he could snap a picture of the look you had on your face, it was priceless.

You tilted your head to the side. It took an almost embarrassingly long time for you to relize what you had said to him.  You bit your lip before smiling, “I guess your right darling. I did start this,” you purred.

Sabo's face flushed, “Don't use that voice on me, sweetheart,” he leaned down resting his hands on your desk, “and don't start a game you can't win.” his voice had dropped an octave, it was now low and sultry.

“I'm not sure what game you're referring to darling,” you leaned forward laying on the seductive tone even harder, “But if I did I'm sure I'd win.”

Sobo leaned even closer, his eyes were very intense, “Come on sweetheart, you know you'd lose.”

Before the game you two were playing cold get out of hand Kola stepped in. She slapped the back of both of your heads hissing, “Oh cut it out both of you.” she shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

Sanji:

You smiled to yourself as you baked. You were in the process of making marbled brownies. You made a dark chocolate batter followed by a pumpkin batter before swirling them together. You popped your creation into the oven before beginning to clean up your mess. It was currently 1:30 a.m., so you knew you had plenty of time to leave it spotless. Sanji would not wake up till 5 am

 You knew that using the kitchen without Sanji's approval could be a dangerous game but you just had to. You would ask Sanji to forgive you later. There was no way you could ask him to use the kitchen not when you were trying to surprise him. You were making him a birthday treat.

You spent the 40 minutes it took for the brownies to bake to clean the kitchen till the floor sparkled. You pulled the pan of brownies out of the oven, they were perfectly baked nice crunchy corners and an ooey gooey center. You were no professional but you could bake like one.

You set the brownies on the counter along with a box of expensive black tea you bought him from a few islands ago. You spent the next ten minutes debating whether or not you'd leave a note. Finally, you gave in to yourself and left a note.  “Happy birthday darling,” you wrote out in your nicest handwriting before singing it in the bottom right corner.

Glancing at the clock you read the time was 2:25 am. You skittered out of the kitchen and headed to bead. You sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening Luffy wouldn't get hungry for a snack before Sanji woke up.

######

Sanji got out of bed at Five a.m. sharp. It may have been his birthday but he would not skip out on his job. He was the ship's cook and he'd be damned if he didn't cook them a proper breakfast. His birthday would be mad special when he saw the look of delight on Nami’s, Robins's, and (y/n)’s faces when they ate the breakfast he made.

He pulled on clean clothes before heading to the kitchen. He needed a cup of nice strong black tea to wake him up. He almost slipped into his normal routine till his eyes landed on a pan on the counter. He rushed over to it wondering which member of the crew had left him a dirty dish to deal with.

He stopped in front of the pan when he saw it was full, someone had made brownies he felt confused. He then noticed the box of tea next to it. The tea looked expensive. He picked it up and read over the container. He realized it was a tea that he'd put back after he realized he didn't have the budget for it a few islands ago. His eyes finally landed on the little slip of paper resting on the top of the brownies. 

“Happy Birthday Darling” he read glancing down to the signature. He felt his heart raced as he read (y/n)’s name. When had she had the time to make this? He looked around the kitchen trying to find evidence of her baking but it was spotless. 

He hugged the note to his chest, feeling tears in his eyes. He hadn't expected much for his birthday. This was so much more than what he expected. He decided to not start his prep for breakfast yet. He brewed himself a cup of his new tea, cut himself a brownie, lit a cigarette, and sat down. He could take a bit of time to appreciate the gift.

######

You were pulled out of bed by Nami at  7 a.m. You were honestly in no mood to be awake, that was until you remembered that it was Sanji’s birthday. You got up stretching and yawning.

You and Nami walked to the kitchen together. You couldn't wait to see how Sanji had reacted to your little surprise. Before you entered the kitchen you whispered into Nami’s ear, “Don't forget to tell Sanji happy birthday.”

 She rolled her eyes at you… hard.

Then the two of you walked in. “Good morning Sanji.” You smiled at him.

Sanj slowly and deliberately walked across the kitchen to stand in front of you. He stared into your eyes for a long moment before hugging you. “Thank you, princess,” he whispered kissing your forehead and walking away, A trickle of blood running from his nose.

Marco:

You were sick, you had a fever, your nose was running and you had the chills. You stumbled from the room you shared with Marco to the infirmary. You knew he had to be there since he wasn't in the room with you. You always got needy when you were sick.

You made it there to see Marco working on paperwork. He was slumped over at his desk working like there was no tomorrow. You knew his work was important but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. You just wanted your lover to come cuddle with you and make you feel a little better.

“Darling,” you whimpered as you made it to his desk, “Will you come cuddle with me?” you sounded absolutely pathetic. If your voice alone had not convinced him to come to bed with you then the way you looked forced his hand. You had a pout on your face the comforter of your shared bed wrapped around you. 

Marco looked up from the paperwork he was working on, “You really shouldn't be out of bed.” he said a smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“I don't wanna be alone. Darling, please come to bed with me.” The pout on your face mixed with the flush of fever made you look more than cute.

Marco laughed, you only ever called him darling when you wanted him to do something for you. He wanted to pretend like it wasn’t an effective strategy but couldn't. Whenever you called him darling he was putty in your hands, “OK my little bird I'll come back to bed with you.” he sighed.

Your pout turned into a smile as you heard his words, “Thank you.” Even with your slightly scratchy voice, Marco found your voice soothing.

Marco stood up from his desk and walked over to you. He easily swept you off of your feet, carrying you bridal style, “Let's get you back to bed before you share this cold with someone.” he had no worries about getting sick himself, ever since he ate the phoenix phoenix fruit he was immune to most colds and illnesses.

“If you leave me there I'm gonna follow you.” You leaned into his chest closing your eyes already feeling sleepy.

Marco just shook his head. He knew for a fact you weren't joking. He sighed, for the sake of the crew he’d better stay with you. He tried to be upset about having to stay in bed with you but he couldn't manage it.

Buggy

You laid in bed next to Buggy. Your lover had his back to you as he slept You had had a nightmare and couldn't get yourself to fall asleep. You didn't want to wake him up, but you really wanted him to hold you. You didn't need to talk about the nightmare you just needed to be in his arms. You hesitantly reached a handout and shook his shoulder, “Please wake up darling.” you whispered.

Buggy was usually a heavy sleeper but the fear in your voice made him instantly roll over. With sleep still fogging his senses he asked, “What’s the matter, honey?” he looked at you with tired but concerned eyes.

“I'm sorry to wake you but would you please just hold me?” you asked in a soft and apologetic voice.

Buggy studied your face for a long moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. It didn't take a genius to tell you were upset. The look you had on your face was heartbreaking, “Don't be,” he mumbled, “Do you want to tell me what's wrong now or in the morning.” his voice sounded grumpy but you could tell he truly did want to make you feel better.

“In the morning darling,” you close your eyes already feeling like you could sleep again, “please just go back to sleep.” You kissed his cheek.

He grunted in response holding you tighter. He would sleep now, but in the morning he'd find out what had upset you. You were his flashy little partner and he would not neglect you. It did not take him long to fall back to sleep.

The sound of his heart and the feeling of his chest rising and falling quickly calmed you down. You found it much easier to sleep. You found yourself falling back to sleep rather quickly.

[ae-cow]

Wash, Rinse, Romance, Repeat!

Warning: Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, She fell literally first and fell harder. This is a work of fiction with nothing to do with the idol's actual life. I do like some feedback. If you ever feel like "Hey this is very offensive." do tell me.

Pairing: Jay of Enhypen x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve always waited for the 40-minute wash cycle to end in the laundry room of your University dormitory, but everything changes when you accidentally stumble into the wrong room and meet Jay, a charming fashion major with a guitar. What starts as a simple mix-up leads to a delightful routine of late-night jam sessions and laughter amidst the warm scent of fresh laundry.

Word Count: 4k Words

A/N: Wanted this to be part of a series called University series but this does not fit the vibe I wanted. Based on an old ff I wrote back in 2021, really love the concept of laundry rooms don’t know why.

Written: 2 November 2024

Masterlist © ae-cow. Do not claim, steal or repost. All rights reserved

🧦

You hurry down the dimly lit hallway of HYBE University, glancing at the clock that reads 4 AM. The campus is eerily quiet, and you’re on laundry duty today. Thursday rolled away too fast as you're tasked with washing your clothes after 2 days of not cleaning them. Spotting a door marked “Laundry,” you push it open.

You head back to your dorm to avoid waiting in the laundry room for 40 minutes, preferring the comfort of your bed. But as the time ticks down, you know it’s time to return.

Now, with only five minutes left, you step back inside. The warm scent of detergent fills the air, mingling with something cosy and inviting. You pause, realising this isn’t your usual laundry room. Panic sets in when you see a guy lounging casually on a counter with his guitar.

He looks up, surprise lighting up his face. “Uh, hey!” you say, feeling your cheeks flush. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Wrong room.”

Before you can retreat, your foot catches on a stray sock. You stumble, knocking over a basket of freshly laundered clothes. The fabric spills onto the floor, and embarrassment washes over you.

“Whoa, careful!” Jay laughs, hopping off the counter.

You bite your lip, feeling flustered. “I thought this was the other laundry room. I didn’t think anyone would be around,” You said, standing up

“Not many people do laundry at 4 AM,” he grins, picking up a shirt. “Wanna help me fold? You’ve already made a mess, after all.”

Hesitating momentarily, you glance at your clothes piled in the corner. “My clothes—”

You’re drawn in by his easy smile. “Uh, sure, why not?”

You perch yourself on the counter, your legs swinging as you begin folding. The atmosphere shifts as Jay starts strumming his guitar, soft melodies filling the room with warmth. A smile spreads across your face, and the tension you carry eases away.

“What’s your name?” he asks, glancing up from his instrument.

“I’m [Your Name].”

“Nice to meet you ____, I’m Jay, So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this at this hour?”

You laugh, feeling more comfortable. “Just trying to keep my laundry game strong. What about you?”

He shrugs, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Thought I’d make the most of my quiet time. This is my jam session spot.”

You can’t help but grin. “Usually, I come up here around the same time. It’s so quiet that I could’ve heard your tunes, but I never did.”

“This is a new routine for me,” he admits. “The boys would come up here to play games and do work, but I wanted some alone time, so yeah, I started coming here about a week ago.”

You nod, then again usually just come down, put in my detergent and softener, and then head back up. Once the timer’s up, you fold everything back into your dorm. But there might be a change of routine from now on.

Suddenly the sound beeps from the other laundry room, the lady's side. It was so quiet that you could hear the sounds of the beep from here.

“Oh, um that must be mine,” Damn it, why must that 5 minutes that would usually be hours be actually 5 minutes?

With a reluctant smile, you wave goodbye to Jay and grab your clothes from the dryer. As you head toward the elevator, you can’t shake the feeling that you want to linger a bit longer. Before stepping inside, you glance back over your shoulder and see Jay still folding his clothes, his guitar resting against the counter.

With a burst of spontaneity, you walk over to the door and knock gently. He looks up, initially shocked, but his expression softens into a smile when he sees it’s just you.

“Hey!” he exclaims, looking pleasantly surprised. “You’re back already?”

“I just wanted to say… it was nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” you say, trying to keep the tone casual despite the flutter in your chest.

“Definitely. I mean, I’ll be here, every alternate day jamming away in the laundry room,” he chuckles, folding another shirt. “You know, this could be our new late-night hangout spot.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. “I like that idea. I’ll hold you to it.”

-

🧺

The next day, you can’t help but notice Jay everywhere on campus. In just one day, you’ve seen him six times. He’s at the cafeteria, laughing loudly with his friends. You spot him through the window of his culinary class, where he’s focused, chopping vegetables with an oddly captivating ease. Later, you see him at the nearby Seven-Eleven, picking out a drink,

And too you realised the boy you had met in the laundry room with a casual tee, sweats had impeccable taste in fashion. His hair was slicked back, shades on, white button tee with the first button off paired with a brown leather jacket and black straight pants. Is it your great attention to detail or are you using it as an excuse for your growing fast crush on Jay? We don't know…

Your roommate raises an eyebrow when you offer to do the laundry. “Why are you suddenly so eager to do the laundry, mine at that?” she asks, amusement dancing in her eyes.

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Just thought I’d help out more, you know?”

Is it just an excuse for you to stay with Jay longer while you say “Gosh I have more clothes to fold today.”

She smirks but doesn’t push it. “Well, if you’re volunteering, I won’t complain.”

With each passing day, the anticipation builds within you. After your first encounter with Jay on Thursday, you find yourself eagerly waiting for 4 AM to roll around on a Saturday. Your roommate is fast asleep, her clothes mingling with yours in the basket, while you mentally prepare a song you’d like to hear if he ever asks.

When the clock finally strikes four, you practically bounce out of bed, excitement coursing through you. You gather your laundry essentials, a song humming in your mind—one that captures the mix of nerves and thrill you feel when you think of Jay.

You made your way down, the basket of dirty laundry in hand. As you approached the girls’ laundry room, curiosity got the better of you, and you peeked to your left. There was Jay, looking adorably confused as he inspected his jacket. You couldn’t help but grin.

Shaking off your thoughts, you headed to your side of the room, quickly placing your clothes in the washer. You separated the whites as you’d promised your roommate, preparing them for a different cycle.

Once you were done, you turned back to Jay’s side and knocked gently on the doorframe.

“Hey,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

“Oh, hey!” he replied, his surprise quickly melting into a smile.

He wore his hair unstyled this time, it was fluffy unlike the one you saw on campus however you liked this style on him, it was cute.

“What’s with that look on your face?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“My sweater’s colour is coming off,” he said, holding it up with a pout. “I literally just bought it, wore it once, and now it has these weird white-ish patches!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sight of him pouting was almost too cute to handle. “What did you wash it with?”

“I think I mixed it up with my whites. I didn’t even check,” he groaned, dramatically dropping his head back against the wall. “What am I going to do?!”

“Well, you might need a laundry lesson,” you teased, stepping closer. “It’s always good to separate colours from whites, You’ve gotta treat your clothes right.”

Jay chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess I’m not cut out for this whole laundry thing.”

You leaned against the wall next to him, feeling the warmth of the room and the easy chemistry between you. “Hey, we all start somewhere. Besides, I’m here to help.”

His expression brightened. “Really? You’d help me save my jacket?”

“Absolutely! I might even throw in some extra laundry tips while we’re at it.”

“Deal!” he said, looking more hopeful. “So, what’s the first lesson?”

“Always read the care label,” you said with mock seriousness. “And never underestimate the power of fabric softener.”

You both laughed, the air between you growing lighter and more comfortable. “And anyways, your jacket is still in amazing quality. You’ve gotta make something out of it,” you said, trying to encourage him.

You paused, thinking. “Hmm, what if you bleached it? It could turn all white?”

He shook his head

“No? Uhh, how about tie-dye? I have a friend who taught me once,” You said

“Great idea!” he exclaimed,

“I can ask my friend what colours I can borrow, and we can meet up tomorrow to do it,” you offered, already looking forward to the next encounter.

“Aww, thanks, man! Never expected some stranger I literally met a day ago would do that for me,” he said, his smile brightening.

You felt a slight sting at the word “man,” but brushed it off. At least he felt comfortable enough to call you that. “Well, I guess I’m just a friendly laundry enthusiast,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Definitely a friendly one,” he laughed.

“So. What colours are you expecting your sweater to have??”

“Pink? Slightly darker blue than this and so yellow could be nice,” He said as you nodded your head intently

“So, what’s your laundry schedule like? Should I expect to see you at 4 AM every two days now?” He asked

You nodded “I mean yeah If I get to see you sure,” You were taken by surprised with your sudden wave of confidence

A grin spread across his face

“Well, I’ll make sure to have my guitar ready for our next laundry session, then. I might need a backup singer.”

“Backup?? I’m the lead singer, Jay,” you laughed, feeling a playful spark between you.

“Truly? I do hope that your beautiful face has a beautiful voice too,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment, “So, erhrm,” You coughed “Do you need help folding?”

At that moment, the laundry room felt less like a chore and more like a cosy hideaway where new friendships—and perhaps something more developing.

-

🎸

Tuesday had come around, it was time to do the laundry again, you stuck to your 4 AM routine. This time, you were excited—your friend had given you the tie-dye supplies in the vibrant colours you wanted and after texting Jay if he was coming to wash his laundry today(he was!) You took your laundry and quickly went up again to grab the supplies

As you approached the laundry room, you knocked on the door, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

“Hey!”

“I just did my laundry…” you said, holding up the colourful supplies triumphantly. “But that won’t stop me from coming here. I brought the colours!”

“Woah,” he said, eyes widening as he took in the array of dye. “This is going to be fun.”

“Did you bring your jacket?”

He nodded, pulling it out from his bag. You could see the faint white patches where the colour had bled.

“Let’s do this,” you said, feeling a rush of excitement. “I’ll show you how to tie-dye!”

“Really? You know how?”

“Yeah! My friend taught me.” You spread the jacket on a clean surface. “First, we’ll twist and fold it to create some cool patterns.”

You twisted the fabric with your hands, creating spirals and knots. “See? It’s all about how you fold it.”

With the Jacket prepped, you began applying the dye, squeezing the vibrant colours onto the fabric. “This part is the most fun. Just be random with it!” You added splashes of colour, watching the fabric absorb them.

You passed the colours to him too, it was his sweater, after all, he had to decorate it.

“It’s messy but totally worth it!” He said

“Now we just have to let it set.”

With the jacket soaked in colour, you hopped up onto the counter, your heart light with excitement for what the rest of the day might bring. You see the same Guitar you’d see every time you came here, yet you haven’t heard any of his music.

“Want to fill the time with a song while we wait for your clothes to finish?”

“Definitely,” he said, reaching for his guitar. “What’s your jam?”

“Surprise me!” you replied, grinning as he began to strum a gentle tune, filling the cosy laundry room with music.

Today you learned that he is a Fashion student, an only child, likes to cook, named his guitar Gibson because of his father and has an insanely attractive accent when he speaks in English.

-

💻

Thursday. The following days drag on as you try to ignore the nagging thought of Jay in the laundry room. You had an assignment looming over you, a 10-page essay due in just two days, and it was starting to feel like a mountain you had to climb.

You had begged your roommate to handle the laundry for you. “I have to finish my essay. Laundry is the least of my worries,” you insisted.

“Seriously?? Just two days ago, you were begging to do the laundry. What happened?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“People change,” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“No, go do your laundry it fucking stinks in here! It’ll take less than two minutes to toss the clothes in, add detergent, and you can type away during those 40 minutes,” she countered, her tone teasing but firm.

“Urgh, fine!” you finally relented, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

After a quick trip to the laundry room, you shoved the clothes into the machine, the cycle starting with a satisfying hum. You headed back to your dorm, feeling the weight of the essay pressing down on you. Sitting at your desk, you opened your laptop and tried to focus, but your thoughts drifted back to the cosy moments spent with Jay.

The vibrant colours of the tie-dye jacket you’d made together flashed through your mind, along with his easy smile and laughter. You sighed, trying to push those thoughts away. You had to stay focused.

But every time you tried to write, your mind wandered to what you were missing: those quiet mornings filled with laughter, music, and the sweet scent of laundry detergent.

Friday, you stuck to your plan, diving deep into the essay, and sacrificing your sleep. The deadline loomed closer, and the idea of spending time with Jay felt increasingly like a distant memory.

You think you were being dramatic but why were you missing the smell of the softener that you could smell whenever you two were in the same vicinity? The sweet smell of Foral in contrast to the cool style just makes him even more— focus just a few more hours.

You could only hope that after you turned in your essay, you’d find a way back to the warmth of those mornings in the laundry room.

You had finally finished your essay, sending it in at exactly 11:58 PM—just two minutes before the deadline and the weekend. A wave of relief washed over you, but it quickly turned into a pang of regret as you realized you hadn’t seen Jay in days, you've been sewn to your bed for 3 days. His smile and laughter from the laundry room lingered in your mind, reminding you of what you missed.

Man, you are down bad when you realise days without him were just you thinking about him.

Jay was on the laundromat, his usual guitar and a laptop to watch videos as he waited for his laundry to finish. He knows that you are busy, you both are university students so he understood that assignments were what's stopping you.

But he can't help but shake the feeling of emptiness. The reason why he started coming here at 4 AM was to enjoy the quietness and also the quiet yet loud sounds of the strums on the guitar.

Yet with you around he didn't mind the loudness of it all. The laughter, the singing from both you and him, the harmonising to one direction because it seems like the go-to artist for the two of you.

He knew your schedule you told him that you come here every 2 days, This week was Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, but you two could unexpectedly see each other on campus anyways, Monday is coming up and your jam session can start again.

As he strummed a few chords absentmindedly, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing for those early morning sessions. It was funny how the presence of another person could transform something so mundane into something extraordinary. The quietness he once cherished felt dull and lonely without you to share it with.

With a sigh, he glanced at the clock, hoping for a glimpse of you at any moment. The thought of your infectious smile and the way you lit up when you sang filled him with warmth, reminding him of why he had started coming here in the first place—not just for the peace but for the connection that blossomed in the most unexpected place.

-

🛏️

Saturday. You jolted awake the next morning to bright sunlight streaming through your window. Panic washed over you as you glanced at the clock—it was already 11:00 AM and you hadn’t done your laundry.

After a hasty breakfast, you threw on some clothes, barely managing to brush your hair before rushing out the door. You needed to check the laundry room for Jay. It seemed unlikely he’d be there, but you couldn’t resist the chance.

As you navigated the buzzing campus, excitement and nervousness churned in your stomach. When you reached the laundry room, you paused outside the door, heart racing. You pushed it open and peered inside.

To your delight, there he was—Jay, humming softly as he folded his sheets. He looked up, and a wide grin spread across his face. “Hey! You came back!”

You smiled back, but then it hit you—you had come at 11 AM instead of your usual 4 AM. A few male students in the room shot you curious glances, and you felt a rush of embarrassment.

“Oh god, I forgot it’s not 4 AM,” you muttered, hitting your forehead lightly. You gave an awkward smile and turned to leave.

What if the reason why was here at 11 was because he didn’t want to wake up at 4 AM and that you were stupid enough to think—

“Hey, laundry buddy!” he called out, waking you up from your thoughts

“Hi, I came to see you when I finally finished my essay,” you replied, turning back.

“Good thing 'cause I had to come here twice! Once at 4 and now, my roommate spilt soju on my bedsheet,” He explains

You winced

“Yeah, but hey I thought I lost my favourite laundry buddy!” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

Relief flooded over you. “I’m sorry! I had a paper due, and it consumed my life for the past few days.”

“No worries! I figured you were buried under textbooks. It is exam season,” he said, leaning casually against the counter. “But you’re back now.”

“Yeah, umm, let’s meet again but next time at our usual time?” you suggested.

“Sure!”

-

🎤

Monday. As you settled onto the counter, your legs swinging, Jay picked up his guitar, filling the room with familiar sounds. He strummed a soft melody, and you couldn’t help but sway along, feeling the tension from the past few days melt away.

“What song do you want to hear?” he asked, glancing up at you.

You thought for a moment, then smiled. “I've been listening to a lot of One Direction, Nobody Compares? Do you know the melody?”

He nodded, launching into the song, his fingers dancing over the strings. You felt a flutter in your chest as you listened, captivated by the way he poured his heart into the music.

After a while, you couldn’t resist joining in, your voice blending with his. The room felt alive with laughter and music, the soft lingering eyes that you felt while you sang a verse 👀, the warm scent of detergent still lingering in the air.

As you sang, you realised how much you had missed this connection, this comfort. The laundry room had become more than just a place to wash clothes; it was your secret escape, a space where you could truly be yourself.

When the song ended, Jay looked at you with a playful smirk. “You know, I think we make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah, we do,” you agreed, feeling your cheeks warm. “Who knew laundry could be so much fun?”

He chuckled, then leaned closer. “I was thinking… Maybe we could do this more often? Not just for laundry, but maybe hang out outside of here too?”

Your heart raced at the suggestion. “I’d like that.”

-

🌸

Wednesday. You and Jay had settled into a comfortable rhythm in the laundry room, the familiar sounds of washing machines and the sweet scent of detergent enveloping you. It was another cosy evening, however, you could sense something was bothering Jay but you didn't want to pry, wanting him to share what was bothering him when he felt ready.

“Hey, umm ___?” he called, breaking into your thoughts. His tone was serious, and you turned to meet his gaze You were playing with his guitar, strumming it. “Yeah, Jay?” you stopped

He hesitated for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”

Your heart raced at the sudden weight of his words. “Us?” you echoed, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“Yeah,” he continued, his expression earnest. “I really enjoy our time together, and I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You’re fun and creative, and you make laundry way more enjoyable.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, but the moment was electric with unspoken feelings. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay looked surprised, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes. “Really?”

Taking a deep breath, you decided to take the plunge. “I know we started just doing laundry together, but it’s turned into something so much more for me. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I like being around you.”

His eyes widened, a smile breaking across his face. “You’re not just saying that, right?”

“No, I mean it,” you replied, feeling a surge of confidence. “You’ve become more than just my laundry buddy. I’ve been looking forward to our time together.”

Jay’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his gaze steady. “I’ve felt it too, ___. I’ve never had this kind of connection with anyone before. It’s refreshing.”

Your heart raced as you searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was warmth and sincerity. “So… where do we go from here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe we could make this official?” he suggested, his tone hopeful. “I’d love to take you out, outside of the laundry room, and see where this goes.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of happiness. “I’d really like that, Jay. A lot.”

You stood there, the air between you charged with unspoken promise. You both knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful. The laundry room, once merely a place for mundane chores, had transformed into the backdrop for a budding romance, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

[directdogman]

Hello Hound!! Since it's Dialtown's 2nd anniversary, I've been planning up a few "general" related questions about your series that I've been meaning to ask, but I decided to save them up for the big day because why not? Anyways, here's what I've got, these were meant to be fun to answer so don't sweat it :]

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

That's all I have for now, and I'm really excited to see your answers!!

I normally don't answer this many questions, but... alright, sure, tis the season!

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

Yeah, of course! I'm a lil proud, admittedly, but I'm aware of how comically little I really have to do with it all, even if I did make the game. Luck does play a LOT into it, of course. Granted, I made my share of predictions that wound up being useful, but it always comes down to lady luck at the end of the day. I've seen good projects fail and bad ones go viral. It's really all just a hodgepodge of probability and whimsy. That being said, I am very pleased with DT's success, and the community that's formed around the game! It caught me by surprise!

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

Gingi's always fun to write. And Mingus. Most painful is tough to say. Maybe Crown. I got a little weird when I wrote his full backstory, kinda caught up in the emotion Norm talks about. Never been a fan of stories getting cut short. You gotta wonder what would've happened if he'd made different choices, y'know?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

Honestly? Karen, probably. She's super underrated for sure. The fandom still loves her, but she doesn't get the same kind of attention as Oliver, Gingi, Randy, Norm. She's worth it.

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

Oh, I already have. I have this monstruous 30-40 page document detailing Crown's life and entire career. It's quite a read. and quite a mind-fuck if you don't know Dialtown's universe too well.

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

Oh yeah, a few characters had scenes that were cut. Stabby, Shooty, Mingus, Bunny, even Bigfoot! There's also the game's cut 6th datable, who was an interesting character with ties to other characters in the cast who I wanted to do more with. Ah, maybe one day.

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

Bigfoot. I made the ape noises in the suit. Had to. It felt right.

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

I quite like Norm's set, Mingus' too. Karen's poses too are quite good.

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

That answer probably changes every day. I like pretty much any scene where Mingus loses her temper.

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

I'd love to make sequels one day! I've got a lot of ideas for where the characters/story would end up. By the time DT1 wrapped up, I'd conceptualized way too much stuff to put in one game (without it taking another few years to finish), so if I ever wanted to make sequels, I'd 100% know where to start! But, that's a later down the road conversation.

For now, I'm gonna keep working on the Roger DLC and if there's demand for more, I can go from there :)

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

I guess I COULD do that with, like, anything. Nothing immediately springs to mind, since, y'know, I'm in control of the canon anyway. I will say, I've seen headcanons and theories that ARE scarily accurate to canon, to the point where I've feared people would just think I'm lifting stuff from the fanbase! It's a good thing I talk about these things with collaborators, huh? I've got a PAPER-TRAIL!!!

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

Finishing a new scene and realizing how stupidly long it was (without me realizing it) was always a treat. But yeah, writing the characters had to be it. Specifically any scene where a character the audience knows meets someone the audience doesn't know well (or at all), with the dynamic changing. Those are fun to write.

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

Hard question to answer. I do really wanna give a high number, but truthfully, a lot of game dev actually isn't super 'fun'. Some tasks are, granted, but many parts are a slog. Sitting and formatting dialogue, and then adding text pauses and pose changes isn't exactly a super thrilling activity. The engine itself also has some issues which I have to work around that adds to the workplace. Play-testing a scene for the 4th time isn't super fun either, or trying to figure out why the game crashes on some PCs and ONLY very rarely... Those tasks are Sisyphean to some degree.

...But, while most of those parts aren't fun, it's all still rewarding. There's a sense of accomplishment when you finish a scene. You get to look back at your hard work, remember the hours you spent typing dialogue into a text box and formatting mass amounts of pngs, painstakingly + manually getting the game's awful pre-loader to deal with the sprites right, etc... and suddenly, at the end, you've got this lil experience that people can play and enjoy. Somehow, the sum of all of those not so fun activities has created something that's going to make people laugh, feel happy. That's special. and even if some parts of development weren't super fun on their own, that's always what I remember. That in the end, all of those not so fun days mattered.

The route I agonized the most over was Oliver's. I went through a few weeks of writer's block, and now, it's one of the most popular routes in the game! Crazy how that happens. I was SURE for about a week that people would rank the route at the bottom! That's what I mean, all of the stress I went through trying to figure it out amounted to something people connected with! To think I almost CUT the route entirely!!!

And y'know, God knows Dialtown gave me something to throw myself at during a time where I REALLY needed the outlet. I'm very grateful to the project for that. So, I'll give DT an honorary 8 out of 10, even if it wasn't a consistently 8/10 experience making it heh heh! Sure glad I did, though and I'm very glad if any of you reading this had a really good time playing it! :)

Thanks for the questions!

[sucuretcannelle]

hi! i briefly remember you saying that you're into if's, so i was wondering what your favorites are

Sighs and shakes a red cup full of ice

Nobody thinks I'm a nerd till they hear the way I talk about interactive fiction...no one knows...

Anyway I started playing IF's in like December. Time flies

This is kind of in order? Of like enjoyment. HOWEVER take this with a grain of salt because I was sitting here trying to rearrange them (except the top 3) for 40 minutes. If it was mentioned, it's good 🙂‍↕️

1. The six that thrive by @the-six-that-thrive-if —

the way I was playing this bro. I wouldn't let myself sleep until I was done with the demo and not because it felt like I had to, but I knew I would be PISSED if I went to bed without absorbing all the content (Dante give me a chance PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏). Anyway the hierarchy system reminds me of the one that I have for the way I wrote hell and I was like 🫵 OMG THATS SO COOL.

Key factor that I appreciate: Dialogue, descriptions, and transitions. Dante is deadass so funny I'm not even playing bro. Buddy how do you write like that, lmk. Also the official art has me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

2. College Tennis: Origin Story by @collegetennisoriginstory — I ACTUALLY HAVE A FUCKING PROBLEM BRO. LOOK. IN MY HEAD, I WAS IGNORING THAT THEY WERE PLAYING TENNIS SO I WAS VISUALIZING VOLLEYBALL. SO AT SOME POINT I READ THE WORD RACKET AND I WAS LIKE WHAT ARE WE PLAYING???

Key factor that I appreciate: Skill checks, attention to side characters, amazing use of character tropes. Idk how to describe it but the writing felt so CLEAN. Like so organized and orderly. Plus I wanna study all of the characters under a microscope

3. Superstition (omg first IF I ever played) by @13leaguestories — I played this while I was sick and that's literally all I did for 2 days besides eating and sleeping. Am I okay? Yeah cuz it happened in December but like I was OBSESSED. And ashamed. My friend told me i would be into Zillah and she was right. I haven't recovered. I promise I'm in therapy.

Key factor that I appreciate: The fact that there was always something going on. Literally at least 3 things were happening at the same time, all the time, and it kept my lil depressed ass stimulated. Who could ask for more

4. Infamous by @infamous-if — this game makes me scared of commitment cuz I can't have Orion and Griffin😐 I might be biased because. I sing! So I was just really connected to this story immediately. Either way, one of my favs cuz the writing is saurrrr good, makes ya feel

Key factor that I appreciate — Infamous is generally well rounded, so I don't feel like it's LACKING in anything. Me gusta.

5. Mind blind by @mindblindbard — I have a problem so I'm a stereotypical Rosie fan. But anyway I personally loved this one because of the world building, even tho I'm a character-focused girlie. Plus the game is so funny for no reason

Key factor that I appreciate— I actually really like the MC in general. Which is funny to say, because they're supposed to be you, but MC's are different from game to game, and I like this one

6. Soulmates Inc by @soulmatesinc-if — idk with some games, it's just the vibe. Like the vibe is right so I'll read it (which like...it's hard for me to find games where the vibe is what drags me along. Tis really good)

Key factor I appreciate — Wyatt. omg who said that...I also love this game's take on soulmates. It's simple, but original, and I fw it

7. Nine Blood Dances by @nineblooddances-if— I'm boutta cry, how did you end up here twice without me noticing bro. Idk this one and TSTT have like, vibes that are connected by a small string, and I did play this one first if that matters.

Key factor that I enjoyed: It felt very structured, and again, clean. I really don't know what this feeling is

8. When Twilight Strikes by @evertidings — I love ALL the characters because damn near all of them pissed me off once. That's actually impressive /pos. Anyway Rylan hit my line

Key factor that I enjoyed: watching my relationship descriptions change. Some left me devastated stop... Like sorry A you're driving me nuts...

Honorable mentions:

Apartment 502 by @apt502-if — I can't wait to see the future parts cuz like I like it but I cant analyze any of the characters yet. But trust me I'm ready 📝

The Kings Hound by @the-kingshound — Same typa situation was Apartment 502... I'm waiting...patiently 📝

[lawva-girl]

Historically.. We don't mix.

Law x fem!Reader, College AU

Notes: the things that don't mix are history and stem majors!!! this came to me in a dream forever ago and ive been sitting on it since. This is only part one to... idk how many but yes! I have a loose outline, we can bet on 5 parts but thats a scary bet to make methinks. Enjoy :) also i apologize if the pov switching in the first bit is weird, i thought i was cooking and i kinda think its cute now so it is.

WC: 1976

The classroom was quiet, you were the only one there. Class officially started in 4 minutes. Right as you pulled out your phone to double check the room another person walked in. You assumed she was a student since she was about your age, at least she looked it. When the woman instead walked to the front of the class you realized she was the professor. Shoulder length black hair, with bangs trimmed right to her eyebrows. Wearing a white cowboy hat, which you thought was peculiar. 

She removed the hat and set it on the desk, resting her bag in the seat. 

She wrote on the board “Robin, overview of women in war” then she leaned against the desk and pulled out her phone.

You looked back at yours, 11:18. Two minutes until class began, and there was now roughly 15 people in the room. You sat in the second row back from the front, and you noticed only one person in the front row. He had a weird beanie on, dark hair, and pierced ears. You tried not to stare, since you knew he could glance back at any second.

“Okay everyone, I am Nico Robin. I’m your professor.” She smiled for the class, and continued, “this class should be very exciting, we get to learn about women like Joan of arc, who really was a delusional farm girl, and Molly Pitcher, a women who fought in the American revolution. The syllabus is online, you will need books by next class. The student store has them for 15 dollars, I won’t take any excuses.” 

The professor paused, then opened her bag and pulled out the book, “it looks like this. It’s a small booklet of primary sources, mostly text and images, that we will take a deep dive into. Your grade this semester will be 40 percent exams, 25 percent homework, and finally 35 percent participation. Yes it is a lot, this class is modeled after my time researching, you cannot be a historian or teacher without being able to work as a group and communicate. I know it’s a challenge but try your best.”

A beat.

Law felt sick. He was not a talker, especially to people who were history majors. The men were always blood hungry, the women always poetic. This class would be rough, but if he could find one person bearable enough it might be okay. Sitting in the front seat, he couldn’t glance around to see his peers. While the professor was going on about the school's mandatory syllabus information, he took a quick look behind him, as if checking the clock. 

No one was paying attention, and he glanced quickly around the class. There was only one person who looked back at him, meeting his eyes. Of course they looked away immediately, and so did he.

The professor finally finished and gave the students time to “meet their neighbors”. Law turned and found the one student who made eye contact with him. 

“I’m Trafalgar Law, I’m a double major in history and biology.” He stated right to the girl, with no excitement in his voice, tone steady.

“My name is Dracule y/n, I’m a history major, and you are insane, Trafalgar.” She had a bit of sarcasm in her tone, which he took offense to. She was the fifth person to tell him that today.

“I’m not insane, I just like history and I want to be a doctor.” 

“That’s cool I guess, I’ve never met a stem major I liked though. You guys are all so “history is just memorization and dates”, I can’t stand talking to ‘em.” 

Law looked back at her and thought ‘I have never met a history major I liked either’. He decided on saying, “If you ask me historians are basically philosophers, you just think all day and pretend like the world changed.” 

She made an obvious frown, putting her hands onto the table with a bit too much force. “Huh?!”

“History majors have two options, teach or research, both are dead end jobs that don’t help people. It’s simple.” He stated nonchalantly, like it was crazy to major in history. 

“Well life isn’t all about jobs and helping people. It’s about living?” She looked him dead in the eyes before finishing with, “it’s not like the world collapses when doctors aren’t around.” 

“Well it was nice talking, but I’m gonna chat to my other neighbors.” He said with a huff, he didn’t have to talk to you at all, in fact he hoped he wouldn’t have to again. 

After about 10 more minutes, professor Robin spoke up again, “okay okay, since we don’t have textbooks yet I decided to make a fun assignment. I’m giving you your first and last handouts, you will need to fill them out before next class. Other than that, please look at the canvas page. Read over the syllabus and take my obligatory syllabus quiz. You are now free from this class.” 

You walked out into the hall, and booked it to the student store. You told your only friend and sister, Perona, that you would meet her there.

Law, coincidentally, told Bepo the same thing. Bepo was his only friend, having grown up with the white haired bear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only 10 minutes after class had dismissed you arrived at the store, already spotting Perona’s pink pigtails. 

“perona!” You whisper-screamed in her ear, trying to scare her. 

“Ahhh y/n”, she sighed, clearly unaffected, “you know you’ll never scare me. Anyways, what is my cute depressed friend doing on Friday?” 

You and her walked into the store, “studying... So I’m busy.” Giving her a quick smile before you two settled in the textbook section. 

“You are so coming with me then! I’m going to the mall that’s next to campus, I’m already so bored of our dorm room decorations. If we go to 5below I can get way cuter stuff for us! You need to come since it’s your dorm too, so I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Perona you have really good taste in stuff, you should be fine on your own!” You put some enthusiasm behind your voice, to encourage her. 

She frowned back at you, not buying into your typical antics. “If you don’t come then you won’t be leaving all weekend! You need to go outside y/n!” 

“Perona!? Hi!” A voice from behind you called out to her, causing you to turn instantly. 

“Bepo! What a coincidence! Do you have a picture of the textbook we need for thermodynamics?” Perona said, already stepping towards the bear.

“Of course! I have to be studious this year!” 

The two of them found the text book, it costed a whopping $300 dollars, and was written by their professor. 

“We can share, right Bepo? That way it’s only 150 dollars?” The both of them had a cloud over their heads as you watched the sad situation unfold. Peronas face was for sure one of desperation.

“Wait is there a digital version? It’s usually cheaper.” You suggested, reaching to pull out the info card. 

“Bepo! I’ve been looking.” Whoever said that sounded quite angry, and familiar?

“I’m sorry Law! I saw my classmate and got excited… sorry” Bepo turned to face the man. 

“You couldn’t have texted? just once?” Law replied, only just then looking at the two people who were with Bepo.

“Great this guy again.” You said with sarcasm dripping from your voice and turned to Perona, “we should leave, he hates me.” 

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.” Law said, pinching his nose.

“Whatever, do you have Bepo’s number Rona?” Calling her by her self appointed nickname always made her happy, right now you were hoping it would get her to leave with you to the history section. 

“I don’t actually! Bepo! Here, put your number in!” She said with a smile, being way more friendly than usual. “I’m Perona by the way, how do you know my friend y/n?” 

It was a simple question but the way he answered really bugged you, rattling off a “we have a class together”. He was looking down at his phone and didn’t even bother to look up when he answered. Hell he didn’t even bother to introduce himself! 

“His name is Trafalgar by the way, we have women in war together.” You had a straight face, conveying how much it bothered you well.

“Awww how wonderful!” Perona had an enthusiastic tone but looked at you with a smirk like no other. “Would you be her friend? I’m the only one she has right now!” 

You cursed your friend and her constant medling. She loved to stir the pot, and when you got upset she would always say “you are so cute when you’re mad though!” With her words to Law, he finally looked up. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but was instantly interrupted. 

“He only had one friend too!” Bepo handed back Perona’s phone, “it’s me!” He said with a big smile.

“He seems like he would have no trouble! My y/n is super awkward and shy!” Perona practically ignored you, as you had started to form words before she interrupted you.

“No no! He’s pretty judgmental so a lot of people stay away from him, he also thinks he’s smarter than everyone!” Bepo replied back, as if they were two parents gossiping about their kids.

“She thinks the same! Maybe they could be friends?” Perona and Bepo look at you and Law.

“I am smarter!” Both you and law said in unison. Immediately looking at each other with frustration.

“Don’t say what I say!” You said to law.

“How would I know what you were going to say? Do you even think?” Law argued back.

“Of course I do! Do you?” You couldn’t think of anything better… 

“Good one. Bepo we’re leaving.”

“Rona we are leaving too! At least I don’t constantly speak in contractions…”

Law turned his head so you would hear, “you just said one too!” 

You and Perona had already turned the corner, you quickly led her to the history section. You spared her no look, you figured you would talk about it once the two of you got back to the dorm. Once you reached the history section, you squatted down in front of the book you needed and saw there were 3 left. Grabbing one then standing. Just as you were about to go pay for the book, you heard him again.

“Are you following me Dracule? Typical.” He said, with a touch of sarcasm. 

“Typical? We both know you don’t have anyone interested enough to follow you. Also, are you even thinking? We are in the same class so of course we would both need the same book.” 

“Whatever, I’m getting my book and leaving.” He quickly bent over, grabbed a copy and was gone.

“No comeback!?” You said, just a bit too loud. You wanted him to hear you, so that he knew you knew he couldn’t come up with anything. Feeling a bit triumphant you turned to Perona, who was standing behind you with a smile. 

“What now?” 

“He’s cute y/n!”

“No chance. He’s mean, and a biology major!” 

She scoffed, “there is always an exception to the rule! Like me!” 

“Yes Rona, an exception. A single exception. There can’t be two exceptions.” 

“Anything could happen! Plus if me and Bepo end up sharing a book you might be forced into hanging out with all of us! Who knows, maybe they also share a dorm!” 

You sigh and look at her, she looks so happy at the prospect that you might have a friend, especially one that’s a guy. You settled, your good side winning out. “Fine. I’ll be open to it. Only if he is nicer.” 

[centrally-unplanned]

Ever ask yourself, "Man, I love it when creatives get into mudslinging shitfight about their work and try to cancel each other, I wonder if I could read over 3000 words about that happening in a niche subculture in Japan 40 years ago?"

So have I! So I wrote that.

Before Gainax, before even Daicon IV, the "Daicon Films" group, lead by Toshio Okada (with Hideaki Anno working on special effects) made the tokusatsu film "Aikoku Sentai Dai Nippon/Patriotic Squadron Great Japan", where nationalist Japanese Sentai heroes fight off the Red Menace via ridiculous antics. It was aired at sci fi convention TOKON-8 in 1982, and was a huge hit.

And it also sparked a two-year slugfest over whether or not it was fascist propaganda via magazine editorials and con panels that became the talk of the town of the SF community.

Half of this article is history. If you want scenes of Toshio Okada leading con audiences in a dance parody mocking the victims of the Hiroshima & Nagasaki atomic bombings - depending on who you ask of course - you are going to get that! If you have seen your share of Social Media fandom drama you will feel right at home.

But since this is me, its not really about that - instead I am hoping to use the drama as a lens to understand the radical changes happening in Japanese "subculture" at the time. This occurred right in the middle of the rise of "Otaku" as a coherent identity, and the undercurrent of the spat was that Japan's nerds were changing, and not everyone was okay with it. Some of the contours of that shift can be seen in the criticisms being leveled by both sides.

I thought about subtitling it "The Anpo Generation Tries to Cancel the New Anime Century" but I quaked in the face of being that insufferable. I probably shouldn't have.

Anyway for the ~5 people who may eventually read this, as always if you see typos or have comments let me know. Also shout-out to @himitsusentaiblog, the one other person who has ever talked about this film on Tumblr.

[joblrcensus]

it’s time for the JOblr census results 🧡🙌

before we start i want to thank everyone who took their time to answer this silly little project, gathering responses from 203 baby boos!! it’s my first time doing this so hopefully i can bring some excitement with the results <3

so buckle up and let’s get into it

general questions

Which continent are you from?

Unsurprisingly, the majority is European with a total of 80.8% but it’s amazing to see that they’ve crossed the continent’s border and we also have 9.9% people from North America, 3.9% from Australia & Oceania, 3.4% from Asia and 2% from South America. No person chose the Africa option.

Which country are you from? (optional)

With this being an optional question, 162 respondents out of 203 opted to answer it. Let’s take a look at the top countries by number of people in JOblr (small note: I counted the few people who wrote England or Scotland as part of the UK answer)

Drumrolls 🥁…..

Finland - 29

UK & USA - 15

Germany - 11

Poland - 9

Italy - 8

Australia - 7

Sweden - 6

Austria, Spain, The Netherlands - 5

Croatia, Slovenia - 4

Czechia, France, Romania - 3

Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Hungary, Lithuania, Norway, Philippines, Portugal, Ukraine - 2

Bolivia, Brazil, China, Estonia, Greece, Iceland, India, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Russia, Switzerland - 1

How old are you?

45.8% of us are between 18-25, following by 23.6% between 26-30, 18.2% between 31-45, 10.8% under 18 and two people who are over 45 years old.

Are you part of the LGBTQ+ community?

Remember when they said Joker Out are for the girls and gays? 🏳️‍🌈

Well that was absolutely not wrong since 77.3% baby boos answered that yes they are part of the community, while 11.8% are questioning and 10.8% have answered no

tumblr activity questions

How do you participate on JOblr?

a majority of 98 people are mostly reblogging posts in the fandom but sometimes making posts of their own, 38 are only reblogging while 36 lurkers have stepped out of the shadow and made themselves known. The least amount of people (31) said to be active posters

Do you post any of the following?

It’s already known this fandom is mad talented and entertaining!! It’s always a joy seeing everyone’s creations and posts no matter the type. And the people who are only enjoying and supporting the content are just as important 🫶

Do you also post about Käärijä?

Since these two fandoms are basically overlapping, sometimes even seen as one fandom, I was curious just how much

50.7% also post about Käärijä outside of Joker Out, while 35% don’t post about him at all (or perhaps very rarely). 14.3% are mainly coming from Käärijä’s fandom

joker out questions

How did you find out about Joker Out?

Another unsurprising result, with 89.7% of us finding out about them through Eurovision. But it was really cool to see that there are people who discovered them differently. Ten people found out about them through Tumblr or other social media, to four they were recommended by someone and one through a music platform. The “other” option was chosen as well and included:

finding out about JO through Käärijä

through a music blog review

on slovenian radio

Who from the current members is your favorite?

One of the hardest questions but it had to be done

So Tumblr’s top favorite members areee:

Bojan - 69 votes

Jan - 42 votes

Kris - 40 votes

Nace - 35 votes

Jure - 17 votes

Have you been to a Joker Out concert?

I did not expect this one to be so balanced but I am pleasantly surprised! 104 people have been to a JO concert, while 99 haven’t. It often feels like you’re the only person who hasn’t seen them live yet but it’s nice to see that you’re not alone, so if anyone feels the same don’t worry our time will come too 🥹

If you answered yes, have you seen them multiple times?

Out of the 104 people who previously answered yes, there’s still a balance between those who have been to only one concert and those who have been to multiple

If you’re into RPF, which one of the most popular ships (according to AO3) is your favorite?

Another optional question where 181 out of 203 opted to respond to.

Oh boy, ooooh boy this was a tough battle. It felt like I was watching a horse race. I can tell you that all three ships have been at some point in the first place, or even equal. Are you ready to see the most interesting result yet?

Drumrolls again 🥁…….

BoJere - 58 votes

BoKris - 57 votes

Jance - 56 votes

The “other” option was also chosen and the following ships were included:

BoMartin

Jan/Jure

Kris/Jure

Nace/Kris

Nace/Jere

poly!JO

aaaand that’s it, you made it to the end 🫶 hope you enjoyed and why not see you on the next census!!

[evillemons]

Hi! Do you think the bts members have a certain age limit on the people they would date? Not sure if you’ve done a headcanons on this yet :D

Hi! I wrote about this briefly in their ideal type posts, but to add an elaboration:

What ages the BTS members would date

RM - Maturity level is of utmost importance to Namjoon. So while he would date someone maybe 2-3 years younger than him or the same age, I could also see him with a much older woman, possibly as much as 7 years or so. Life experience, emotional maturity, and ability to be introspective is the key, more so than age as a number. Although, he would find dating an older woman incredibly sexy. So at his current age of 30: ages 27-37.

SUGA - I am inclined to say that age is absolutely irrelevant when it comes to love for Yoongi, but realistically there would still be a cap. Like Joon, mental age is more important than physical age. He wouldn't have a problem dating someone younger if they were compatible (maybeee as young as 25, any younger would feel like a sibling to him), and he would definitely be okay with someone quite a bit older, by 8-9 years even. At his current age of 31: 25-40 (a large range, but I think that suits him).

V - It would be unlikely for Taehyung to date someone older than him, as he would lose that sense of protectiveness he loves to provide (especially because Korea is so sensitive to the age hierarchy). Someone younger, definitely. It would allow him to teach her about life and feel secure in his provider role. Old enough to be out of college and in her career though, as someone too naive might feel burdensome or annoying to him. At his current age of 28: 23-29.

j-hope - Age isn't a huge deciding factor for Hoseok, although I see him most likely with someone close in age to him. It would be ideal for him to have a partner in the same stage of life he is (even if they live a completely different lifestyle and/or career), as he wouldn't want to be a teacher for someone younger and would feel insecure with someone too much older. At his current age of 30: 27-32.

Jungkook - I think Jungkook would be content dating someone within about 5 years of him, older or younger. Someone younger would allow him to feel protective an authoritative, while someone older would be able to act as a source of guidance for him (and it would be super hot). He could adapt to either someone more experienced, or someone who has never dated before. At his current age of 27: 22-32.

Jimin - Jimin seems he would have a preference for women who are younger and cuter. He would also date someone the same age as him, but absolutely not older. An older woman, even by a year, might make him feel insecure or inadequate and like he needs to act a certain way around her. At his current age of 28: 23-28.

Jin - Like Jimin and Tae, Jin would heavily prefer to date someone younger, as fulfilling the traditional Korean relationship dynamic is important to him. A woman one year older might be ok as long as she is the housewife type and doesn't use her age as leverage. However, even if she is young, he would still want her to be relatively mature and settled. At his current age of 31: 25-32.

[onlyjaeyun]

i’ve been following ur writing for some time now and i do have to agree with that anon who said you did CH dirty. you are a very talented writer so it’s just hard to watch.

you started off CH so strong with the lore and little chapters here and there but as it progressed you kind of just got lazy and it shows. when important events happened in the story, they weren’t conveyed through writing but through the texts (ie the riki and yn fight, that was definitely worth a written chapter) and it was honestly disappointing.

the ending isn’t much to say about either. yn and hoon barely go through development after the letter incident and all of a sudden they’re dating and married with a kid like two chapters later?

idk, if it was a mental health issue then i get that but even then you should’ve just gave it a break and thought everything out more. you could do so much better.

thank you for the feedback!

i wanna put you through the progess of a piece of writing from the POV of a writer okay? now keep in mind: i work two jobs, am a fulltime uni student and the daughter of an immigrant household with two parents who still work most of the day just so you know what else i have to deal with, besides my mental health okay?

now, i started off CH strong right? yes. i uploaded on the daily, fine i chose that. a chapter usually takes me around one hour if i actually sit down and focus on nothing but the chapter itself, which includes IG stories, editing, formatting etc. alright

on top of the daily chapters, i constantly replied to 40+ asks a day, a blessing in disguise because no matter how much i enjoy talking to you guys, the pressure does get worse the bigger that number of my inbox becomes, i hope this makes sense

now, i started CH back in october, right when my semester started, thats why i started off strong but as time went on, my assignments and private life got too busy and i guess i felt entitled enough as a writer to skip a few certain chaps and make life a little easier for me by making them regular chapters instead of written ones.

and this is gonna be my main point: i'm not a machine. i wrote a minimum of 5 THOUSAND words per written chapter, MINIMUM. we're talking about a 5-9 THOUSANDED worded chapter EACH WEEK. which usually took me about 6-7 hours, even allnighters.

yes, i chose to do that and maybe my time management wasn't the best but i had to create a compromise where i wouldnt have let you guys wait for over two months which would have resulted in me losing my motivation completely, and yet still focusing on EXAMS. because you know, i'm a fulltime uni student with TWO jobs 😮‍💨

if YOU think i did CH dirty go write an alternative ending yourself but it should be a minimum of 15 chapters including 5 written ones, with at LEAST 9k words each yeah? i wanna see you manage it all, pls prove me wrong snd show me you're better than me i'm genuinely begging bc it might inspire me to do "better" next time.

as a writer/artist/creator, and i can tell you probably arent one yourself or havent been one for long, the longer smth takes to come to an end the worse the pressure becomes which results in a blockage i dont wish upon my worst enemy i'm being deadass. i dealt with some of the worst writer's block ive had since i started writing literally 12 years ago and you're telling me i should have just "taken a break" and do "better"

i never, ever expected anything from anyone but some of you are so entitled to a writer's time and skill it's giving me a headache. maybe you didn't like the timing and writing of the last few chapters of CH and i guess that's unfortunate but this was so unnecessary because you completely dismissed everything else that could have been going on in my life and even belittled my mental health issues like im some fucking AI writing machine

do better, be nicer, write it yourself if you don't like it i'm so fucking over this

if i had gotten out of my own comfort and wellbeing and have actually written another set of written chapters i would have burned myself completely out. ive been in this fandom for not even a year and have already finished FOUR smaus with 50 chapters each, you do NOT get to tell me what i should or could have done better because you dont even give a fuck about me as a person this is just about receiving what YOU think YOURE entitled to but this is MY art and I will do what I see fit even if it's not what was expected of it because i'm a fucking human being with a life before i'm a writer on tumblr

oh, also: i do this for free ㅤ:) just a reminder :) this is my HOBBY :)

and don't you EVER call me lazy again when it comes to writing because i'm not gonna pour my heart and soul into a fic just for you to call me lazy when i literally wrote 50 THOUSAND words for this fucking fic just for the written chapters

goodbye

[gxhaode]

To all the boys I’ve loved before

Pairing: Student!ChoiYeonjunxstudent!femreaderxchildhoodbestfriend!ChoiBeomgyu

Summary: Your romantic life was practically non-existent, only having crushed on a handful of guys which never went anywhere. All of this took a turn after Yunjin, your best friend, decided to mail your crushes the letters that you wrote for them during your crushing phases. What happens when one of the letters ends up at Choi Beomgyu door, your best friend since diapers or worse, your ex best friend's boyfriends, Choi Yeonjun? Will Yunjins tactic finally get you to find love or will it just lead to disaster?

Genre: Highschool au, social media au, love triangle, light angst, fluff, crack

Warnings: swearing(this is all I can think for now but if theres anything else that you notice and think should be a warning do let me know:) )

Features: Txt, lesserafim, aespa,enhypen

Start: 10th March 2023

End: 12th July 2023

Status: Completed

A/N: I am currently in my last year of school before I start university so A LOTTT of exams are coming up so my posting days might be a bit off due to that:’) but I’ll try my best to be organized and have everything ready for u guys in time:)

Taglist:OPEN

Profiles:

Moodboards:

Y/n, Yeonjun, Beomgyu

Socials:

y/n’s bullies | skateboardclub | thechadsquad

Chapters:

Monologue

Chapter 1: I hate it here

Chapter 2: im single BY CHOICE

Chapter 3: WHOS WE💀‼️

Chapter 4: this bouta be good🍿

Chapter 5: I AM A COWARD.

Chapter 6: Message from Unknown

Chapter 7: Jesus’s doorstep

Chapter 8: DO IT

Chapter 9: he dead.

Chapter 10: Soobin the human shield🤩🛡️

Chapter 11: did that girl just faint? (Written)

Chapter 12: Man its only Tuesday

Chapter 13: Yuny/n era?🤭💗💗

Chapter 14: hes lost it😭😭

Chapter 15: oNe EyE oPen wHen YoUre SleEpinGggg

Chapter 16: r u gasslighting me rn?😀

Chapter 17: Hunting y/n for sports😍(Written)

Chapter 18: Are you mental?

Chapter 19: Get that dick y/n😩

Chapter 20: the contract

Chapter 21: just go knock?💀

Chapter 22: oh.

Chapter 23: text y/n

Chapter 24: its on

Chapter 25: you’re cute♡

Chapter 26: rebound shit😭

Chapter 27: oh bby…

Chapter 28: The scrunchie (written)

Chapter 29: no💞

Chapter 30: YOU JEALOUS BROTHA(Smau +written)

Chapter 31: its always Soobin(Smau + Written)

Chapter 32: im fine wdym

Chapter 33: wtf is going on😭

Chapter 34: Operation SS

Chapter 35: SS Shananigans

Chapter 36: Toxic Relationships(Written)

Chapter 37: Ill be here for you(Written)

Chapter 38: OH IM WORRYING

Chapter 39: Ski trip day🥳🏔️

Chapter 40: me and you<3(written+smau)

Chapter 41: never🤙🏻

Chapter 42: haters gonna hate.

Chapter 43: guys?😀

Chapter 44: Jacuzzi(Smau + Written)

Chapter 45: we need to talk (Written)

Chapter 46: preach🗣️

Chapter 47: no homo

Chapter 48: pull a y/n

Chapter 49:Endgame

Taglist: @ghostfacefricker6969 @yumilovesloona @il0vebeomgyu @curly-fr13s @blueishwoodz @kaewonie @uno7 @hyu-kas @daisyhwa @captivq @s00buwu @lixie-phoria

[fuck-customers]

I'm still a bit mad about this so here we go-

My place of work closes at 5. These two customers come in like ten till and get a bunch of plants (I work at a plant shop). The one guy wants delivery, fuck me cause delivery orders take a while to do with all the damn paperwork and he has like 15 plants. I tell him the delivery fee, he asks if it's subjective on the amount of plants he gets, I explain it's a flat fee and that it gets delivered by a box truck. He decides he's gonna go back and get more plants. At 4:51. I tell him we close at 5 sharp, he says okay, but we all know that doesn't mean jack shit. He spends like another 10-15 getting more plants.

While he's going back there I start writing up the information for delivery. Plant name, gallon size, quantity, price, ect...

One of my coworkers comes up with the golf cart full of plants. There was probably 15+, atleast. It's like 4:55 now. He says the lady is still shopping in the back and has another cart full of plants. Fuck me again. He says she has a Beep and isn't gonna fit it all in there and is probably gonna do delivery. Double fuck me. I haven't even counted the cash drawer yet. I start writing up this first order. Again, all the details. Everythin.

One other coworker says she already got the prices of plants for the second order (the second cart, on top of the golf cart, the customer brought up) in the register computer. I say she (customer) wants delivery, so she walks away. Just leaves, as I'm writing up the order. Thanks for the fuckin help.

This is where I get more angry than I already was. Manager comes up, asks what's going one. It's past 5 at this point, we're closed. Except we're not cause both these fucks are out in the garden gettin more plants. I explain *both these customers want delivery. She says I can't do two things at once and that we need to 'divide and conquer'. First of all, divide and conquer my ass. I am conquering, no one is helping me. One cowroker even left while I was doing the order write up. I already wrote up all the information for the first order (besides stuff like customer address, I just did the plant details) and I'm pretty much almost done with writing up the next order. Bitch customer number 2 then is up front and loading plants in her car, which no one told me, which the coworker who brought them up who's helping her SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME the customer was taking certain plants. My manager and I have a back and forth, me basically explaining 'I already wrote down the information for BOTH orders'. She then makes me hand her my paper with order 2 on it and she basically disregards my entire work I just did, redoing everythin. I literally had it under control, I wrote down EVERYTHIN (that I could do). Plant names, quantity, prices, gallon size, and it was over 40+ plants in the end. At this point I'm pissed cause it's like 20 past five, neither one of these customers have their order written up officially (I use a scrap paper first then write nice on the order form), I don't want to leave in rush hour traffic and neither customer is upfront actually paying for their order.

Eventually another coworker comes up and helps the other other one who's still slow with doing orders. I give her all my information I wrote up for order 1. Weather or not they actually used it, idfk. I'm just pissed that all my effort went to waste for NOTHING for my manager to tell me I'm doing it 'wrong'. I was *this🤏 close to just clocking out and leaving since clearly no one wants the actual effort I put into these two damn fiasco of orders. Someone else can count the two cash drawers out, if you're gonna disregard my effort then you clearly don't want it and you can get someone else to do it.

This and the other shit that has been piling on, like my coworkers not helping me when we get busy and me feeling singled out for 'not checking customers out fast enough, not being vigilant of the front' makes me want to look for a new job. I'm tired of hustling my ass just to be told I'm slow at it, that I'm not cognizant, that my effort isn't enough. Why they don't get on my coworkers, idk. They do fuck all while the phone is blowing up and I have a line of customers upfront. They literally have 20 minute chats with the manager while I'm gettin slammed with customers or I'm actually doing somethin productive. It's only been six months but I'm already thinking of leaving.

Posted by admin Rodney

[itssoinevitable]

acgas season 5 rant

well I must say it’s been some time since I wrote a tumblr essay but I think this one has been building all season. in fact, it will likely be part one of (?) because there are many feelings that need to screamed into the void. let me preface by saying that I am not a “hater” by any means, because I absolutely and unabashedly love this show and it pains me so much to criticise it, instead of celebrate on cloud nine like I usually would be after the finale. I ranked it higher than downton abbey the early seasons, which is a massive compliment for anyone that knows me. and I repeatedly told others not to worry bc it’s the show that keeps on giving and that I trusted these writers implicitly with our beloved characters.

so yes, it royally sucks that I have to eat my words, and that acgas season 5 did not bring what it should have brought. and it also sucks that this is only part one of my rant (for you and me both). if you loved s5, then I am really happy you did, and please don’t read on bc I don’t want to taint your experience. if you hated it but don’t know why, or bc misery loves company, pls read on. spoilers ahead, obv. 

1. episode structure

yes so — structure wise, it was a hot mess. I can definitely see what they were going for, in that they gave the limelight to a pair of characters every episode, and thought it would be fine like modern family style episodes. except, another spoiler alert: it was not fine at all, unless your faves are the featured couple for said episode. I would do an episode by episode breakdown but @owlsiehoot already did that. suffice to say, it is not the kind of show where you can enjoy 40 odd minutes when it’s not “your” characters’ turn to shine. they have nearly an ensemble cast, but chose not to treat it like an ensemble show. and while I can see what they were trying to avoid, the chosen execution method was far far worse imo. (we may never know the real reason for this change, but I hate whoever greenlit this decision).

even if they wanted to keep the longer scene structure, fine, maybe it could have worked. but if I could have recommended one change in the writing room, it would have been to split the main cast into threes every episode, instead of pairs. that would resemble the formula a bit more like the prev seasons, and would’ve given much more interesting and diverse back and forths to play off of and keep more general balance. some ways the dynamics could have been done:

Tris & Carmody were fine in ep 4, but keep it in skeldale more and add Mrs Hall into the mix to mother them, even better. (reminding the audience she has a biological son too, and not just these surrogate dumbasses whom she loves would have been a bonus.)

Helen & James are always lovely together, but add Tris in there for some mischief or more Jenny and Heston Grange for some sisterly bonding. 

Tris & Siegfried were cute too, but again they were away from the house, and usually Audrey was right in there with them and added something to all their interactions. 

Alternatively, give the ladies something to do and put Audrey, Helen and Mrs Pumphrey together again. (I will say though, at least Mrs P had more to do this season). 

Where the show suffered most was giving Carmody two stand-out episodes tbh, when in reality, they only had time for one.

2. tone

not only did the previous seasons have an amazing balance of all characters, they also managed to balance the darker story threads with lighthearted humour in an inimitable way. usually three concurrent storylines, two being more serious, and one more lighthearted to break it up. some episodes of course, were more lighthearted than others. but season 5 seems to have turned that on its head because almost all storylines were quite silly?? I respect there has always been a certain amount of physical humour, but it seems now that the gags have now replaced actual plots and meaningful character development. this is not a sitcom after all, unless they’re trying to change genre at the nth hour. notable exceptions include Bingo’s storyline ofc, and Candy & Joan (both which were early in the season btw) and James’ war and brucellosis experience right at the end. the middle was mostly twaddle if you ask me.

which reminds me: overall, the animal storylines seem to have become something of a joke too. the animals used to mean a lot more to their clients before, and the vets used to show them a great deal more love and respect. contrast to this season, many vetting scenes feel almost cavalier. the poor dog with the phantom pregnancy was played for laughs, which I don’t think it would have been in prev seasons. the horse that fell down after the injection, had no greater mystery to solve. Siegfried and Tristan barely seemed to care, and chalked it up to shock. it is quite unforgivable to me, as their great reverence for the animals was one of the things I love(d) about this show. 

imo a few subtle changes could have elevated many of the stories to their usual form. I gave an example on discord, but I’ll repeat it here. it’s episode 5, and picture Bosworth coming into Skeldale the same was as he did in canon, asking Audrey to come out to investigate a potential bomb. everything could have remained the same except that Audrey could have told the others where she was off to, and Siegfried or Tristan maybe asked her not to go. the whole family would have gathered together for a moment, expressed their fear for her and she would have said it’s her duty to go and check anyway. in this version, we would have felt the tension and the stakes, and it would be a looming threat of the war finally touching Darrowby. the end would also be the same, a false alarm and nothing more but the emotional impact of the episode would have increased tenfold.

and to me, the worst part of it all is that the season actually started off so promising. the first two/ three episodes, combined with the interviews by the cast, it honestly felt like they were exploring some very interesting things. but they dangled the carrot, only not to deliver imho. 

it seemed that Tristan was hiding something painful under his playful exterior, eventually to be teased out, but apparently he really came back from war completely trauma-free.

I was under the impression that Siegfried was supposed to have an identity crisis, where he was feeling left behind, but it didn’t seem to pan out properly either.

Audrey was supposed to be overworked, right? but we didn’t see her actually buckle under the strain of her many, many duties because she’s basically superwoman I guess?

James had this beautiful connection with Banerjee, only for him to be alive but never show up again I guess? really thought James would bring him to Mrs P’s convalescent home but guess not.

3. characters

and here is the crux of it, the beating heart of the show which is now bleeding out. because a truly good show is character-driven, and unfortunately I cannot say that was true for season 5. a glaring deus ex machina comes to mind, when the doorknob fell off in episode 4, trapping Tris and Carmody in a room. never thought the show would stoop to these cliched tropes tbh and it truly disappointed me.

not only did the episode structures do the characters a great disservice, but it seems to have foiled the overall season story arc too for each character throughline. to me, it looked as if the only two people with clear defined story arcs were James with his war trauma, and Carmody (my beloved). was it Sam West who said the characters seemed “busy” this season? bc yes, it’s accurate. but not in a good way. mostly they all had only things to do on the surface, but there was very little going on underneath. which is a crying shame because basically, characters have to suffer a little to grow and be interesting. they need to face challenges and grow and change. let’s do some compare & contrast:

Tristan changed and grew in every season, from 1 to 3 and faced many internal (and external) obstacles to becoming his best self, whether it was by being more studious or responsible and mature in his work and personal life. Now he’s back and we’re supposed to think… what? That he’s already his best self, I suppose.

season 4 Siegfried was holding his found family together, trying to cope with the workload and missing Tristan, worrying about James, terrified that Audrey was going to leave. contrast to s5, and Siegfried is… being adorable with baby Jimmy, and attracted to a goat heiress? if there was something deeper here, please let me know bc I must have missed it.

while last season, Helen was looking forward to starting a family, and then working on keeping her baby healthy and her family (James) intact despite the war. s5 Helen started off strong, struggling with balancing being a mother and big sister to Jenny, but now… she’s what? planting too many strawberries in the victory garden? being a supportive wife to James is important, but it cannot be her only feature. 

and last but definitely not least, Audrey in s4 was learning what a life outside her marriage to Robert could truly mean for her, and figuring out for herself where she belongs. conversely, s5has her making jam, and finding non-explosive tinned potatoes. yes she’s a warden, but what is she feeling on the inside?

4. conclusion — an empty vessel

to summarise this not-epic epic is that my true grouse with this season is its utter emptiness. it is truly a season where nothing happened and nobody really changed. okay, some things were different — e.g. Siegfried being better with handling his “boys”, and being more open and less grumbly in general. or Tristan being more responsible with his work, and standing his ground more firmly. but imo those were the results of previous season’s changes. within the course of s5, they did not do much growing or changing.

Tristan’s homecoming episode comes to mind the most. so many missed opportunities for deeper to surface — James being torn between treating a patient and possibly missing his son’s christening would have added some true to character dissonance. Helen leaning on Audrey for support when she had issues with her mother-in-law, could have worked beautifully and explored the character foils in an interesting way. James and Helen asking Siegfried and Audrey to be Jimmy’s godparents would have been truly touching and a testament to how deep their familial bonds are.

anyway, TL;DR I guess? maybe it’s because they’re saving most of the juicy stuff for season 6, but it mostly felt like a filler season, and if you looked forward to it all year just to get that then it’s truly anti-climactic. with all that said now, onwards and outwards. we shall see was the CS brings.

[junedenim]

2007

beneath the boardwalk, part 5 (series masterlist)

my mistakes were made for you

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, robert, etc.

word count: 12.3k

I had my hair cut just above my shoulders but it was not a bob, I am adamant about this. I got a light fringe that I never wore full-frontal on my forehead. I was inclined to pull the two sections apart like a curtain or, regrettably, have them as side bangs.

After New Year's, I returned to London and left many things behind in Wakefield, most notably my journals. I was starting fresh and wanted to claim independence. Stacey gifted me a stack of Moleskine notebooks for Christmas that I wrote in and I began babysitting two girls (5 & 7) who lived in the building with their single mother, Lee, who was 6 years older than me. Georgia and I refused to turn on the heat because we weren't overflowing with cash, especially after my father and I agreed I would start paying rent after the three-month grace period he gave me. 

The other reason was we felt more like struggling artists, piled under blankets, wearing two pairs of socks, and heating meals in the microwave because they had grown too cold too quickly. Georgia would write poetry in her room then meet me in the living room and recite it. I was without an editor since Alex and I's parting. So, I began to share my writing with Georgia.  After we traded pieces, we would crack the window open and smoke cigarettes out of it. 

I was aware I was using Georgia to refill the Alex-shaped hole in my life. What Georgia and I were doing was what I dreamt for Alex and me. I had overwhelming happiness for Alex but I felt disappointed (and certainly jealous) that we didn't experience the struggling artist phase together. But Georgia was what I needed: a friend.

Madeline Critchley, who helped me submit to Granta, got me a position with the University of Greenwich's literary magazine, Anthology. It felt dumb to start at the magazine a few months before I was finished with school but she told me it didn't matter how much time I put into it but what I got out of it. It was cheesy but it ended up being true. I wrote endlessly, trapped inside that building. I was overcome by some being and she never let me stop.

*

I was invited to a secret gig at The Leadmill in February. Arctic Monkeys's tour director emailed the invitation. I thought about going but used the excuse of babysitting and RSVPed no. Georgia, her new girlfriend, Kyle, Dianna, Robert, and I went and saw Amy Winehouse instead. Obviously, I don't regret the decision.

Not speaking of Alex seemed an unspoken rule but I couldn't help but think of him when Amy came on stage. Not because I related her songs to Alex and our relationship but because the bastard got to meet her and didn't fucking introduce me to her!

Robert's place was a close distance from Astoria so we all, except Dianna, went back and crashed at his place instead of taking a 40-minute ride home on the underground late at night. Georgia and Kyle would sleep on the pull-out and Robert would share his bed with me.

Before we went to sleep, Robert and I smoked a joint in his room. It didn't do much for me, only making me tired-eyed. Robert was in a constant state of haziness. He wore leather pants and a turtleneck. His hair was overgrown and every movement he made bounced his curls. 

"Heard about you and Alex." It was the first time we had seen each other this semester. I had only told Georgia, she informed everyone else for me.

"Yep."

"Sorry 'bout that."

I shrugged. It wasn't something I wanted to talk about.

"Sucks we can't get free concert tickets now."

I huffed a laugh. "I didn't think you were much of a fan anyway."

"Well, you know, it's a good place to pick up girls." He eyed me. It was obvious.

"I didn't pay attention to that kind of thing."

"Oh, come on, like you weren't watching every girl there who could steal your man."

I shrugged again. I was never threatened by that idea or maybe I was just uncaring towards it.

"Your ambivalence is a man's greatest dream."

"He never did anything for me to not trust him."

"What about me?"

"Oh," I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes. "I'd never trust you."

We shared a laugh and the joint had reached its butt. He put it down. "So, shall we just get to fucking?"

I pushed off the wall and walked over to what had been deemed my side of the bed. "God, Robert."

"Come on. It's been a long time coming. We're here. We're single. It's our last year. We're never gonna be here again."

"You just want to get yours wet."

"So, you're wet? And hell yeah."

"Shut up."

"Let me kiss you."

"I'm going to bed."

"Fine. Me too."

We laid side-by-side for a minute before I kissed him and then we fucked. I don't remember much. I wasn't that drunk or high. It just wasn't very memorable.

*

Robert and I had a transactional relationship. Before we began hooking up this was the case and now that we were spending our nights together, we shared awful things with one another, none of which were words. Drugs seemed to be the biggest thing. A joint after sex was expected and by March, Robert and I were snorting coke with one another. It was quite enjoyable. For the time.

We ended up in Regent's Park one night. We sprawled across the vast grass. He called people—they weren't friends—on his Motorola Razr and switched between rambling with them and rambling at me. I brought my notebook and thought about writing but he was too loud.

I searched through my bag for something I never found and remembered when I came with Alex. I hated the infection of him but something about that night and picturing him on a bench next to me made me smile. 

I thought of guards changing. My first trip down to London when I was 10 and how Stacey and I stood, faces squeezing through the gates of Buckingham Palace to watch the New Guard replace the Old Guard. I couldn't understand how anyone would want to stand outside on sentry duty for hours. The relief when the New Guard showed up must have been such an enormous relief as their bladders ached and their shoulders begged for mercy. I wondered about the relief Alex felt as the New Guard replaced him. Or did he wish to continue to stand still by the palace's side? But the Old Guard becomes the New Guard eventually. They all just go spinning around. 

I wrote about the places we attribute to people. The corners of the world that just belong to them. (Alex, unbeknownst to me, had already done the same [505]). I left Alex's fingerprint out of the piece but it had him all smeared over it. I wrote about the Guard and Stacey's little head nearly trapped in between the metal bars. It was my favourite piece I wrote for Anthology. 

I sent it to Alex. He responded:

Buckingham Palace still has guards???? Are people still trying to actively kill the Queen?

I responded:

Diana's ghost.

Alex never sent me any of his work. I dreamt of a book one day appearing on my car roof. But my car stayed in Wakefield and Alex stayed nowhere. It was a rotten daydream.

*

In April, days before Favourite Worst Nightmare was released, the band played the Astoria for two nights. I hadn't heard any material yet, besides the recently released single "Brianstorm" and its b-sides, I had heard none of the album. It was unsettling not to know the songs. To not have the entire setlist memorized, front to back. 

My goal was always to be friends with Alex and going to the concert felt like solidifying this notion. Georgia found my need to befriend Alex so quickly after we had ended bizarre and unnecessary. But it had been months and I was ready to rip the Band-Aid. Georgia came with me. Robert insisted too. 

It did end up being bizarre. I was unacquainted with going to an Arctic Monkeys concert and not talking to Alex beforehand. When they came on stage, their appearances were much like when I saw them last. Alex hadn't changed one bit, but his demeanor had. He was stiffer, not in a good or bad way, just an indistinguishable way.

New additions met my ears well with the bass of "Balaclava" ringing through me for days to come. I shifted around "Do Me A Favour" as details became obvious that the subject matter was concerning us and our teary eyes. It made me fidget but I loved it so I couldn't quite complain about the feeling of irk I got. My opinion changed when it was followed by "Mardy Bum" where I knew all of this was a conscious choice. It was an attack on my heart whose walls were still susceptible to incursion.

I found myself relating to songs that weren't written for me like I was the average listener. "Leave Before the Lights Come On" had a different meaning standing next to Robert. I felt ashamed for that and that made me enraged by Alex because without moving a muscle I felt like he was dictating my life through my hippocampus only. 

After the show, we waited outside for the band. Georgia also found this insane. Robert said it was tragic but in a poetic way. I said they could go but both refused. 

Jamie came out first with Katie who wrapped her arms around me which could be deemed as a threat to my life if it wasn't so loving. She did the same to Georgia and I laughed at the way Georgia flailed her arms around.

The rest of the band followed with Alex's eyes wide and looking between the floor and me, unable to process the sight in a simple glance. "Alright! We're heading back to Robert's place!" Matt shouted. His eyes on Alex became clear he was teasing him. 

Regardless, I chuckled and hugged Matt. "No. I was hoping to join wherever you were going if you don't mind the intrusion."

"Never," Nick said, giving me a hug. Nick and I didn't know much about each other other than what Alex told each of us. I liked him because he had always greeted me with a wide smile, welcoming to all. He often seemed like he was just happy to be along for the ride wherever that ride took him. I like that quality very much.

As we walked out further into the street, the paparazzi snapped away, more at the band than the 3 dimwits following them, nevertheless, Robert began a potent rant against the invasion of paparazzi and how it was Big Brother and flexing that he had read 1984 as if it wasn't required reading for everyone in high school. He continued this the whole ride until we arrived at the pub.

It was premier service for a place that felt so unchic but I knew nothing about how the status of celebrity worked. Alex and I didn't go out enough for me to witness it. I had no qualms about using the complimentary service for my drinks. 

In the booth, Robert sat with his arm around me. Our displays were often limited to his flat but when he stood to go use the restroom and kissed my cheek I knew what he was doing. I had to laugh, it was impossibly amusing.  

I left for a cigarette. Alex followed a minute later. My back was against the wall as he approached. "Hi."

"Hi." I unconsciously handed him one. It was second nature.

He blew a puff out and asked, "You got a review for me?" That was also second nature.

I chuckled and shook my head, looking down at the floor. "Excellent as usual."

"Dry as ever, come on, Janie, you've got to give me more here."

I gave what I could. "I liked the new songs."

It seemed less jokey now as his laughter fell but he smiled at me sincerely. "Thanks."

"I'm sure the album will be great." I never doubted that. Even if he wrote the most scathing things about me, I would love it because he’d word it in such a way that I simply could not hate it.

Our conversation was like hitting a tennis ball back and forth but each time one of us hit it the other wouldn't hit it back. I thought about going inside. Then, he asked me, "You and Robert together?"

His bluntness had taken me aback and I focused on my cigarette to process the question. "Does Robert strike you as the boyfriend type?"

It made Alex laugh, which was the only relief in the world I would need. "I suppose not. Kissing you on the cheek and all—I'm sorry, not my business."

He was flustered, which made me laugh. He was small and cute when he was flustered, messing with his hair and shaking his head. "You know, he gets a kick out of making you jealous."

"Really?" Alex chuckled at the idea. I think Alex, for many years, viewed himself as the underdog, even if he was more famous, richer, cuter, and kinder than nearly anyone else I knew. 

"I think you make him feel insufficient. I'm not sure why but he's always felt a need to overcompensate when you're around."

"So, he doesn't do stuff like that usually?"

I never liked lying to Alex. "No. But in full transparency, we are doing the hook-up thing or whatever."

He verged on saying something but closed his mouth and scuffed out his cigarette. I joined him in dropping mine. "Lucky him."

I pushed him light-heartedly. "Shut up."

We returned inside and Robert's arm returned around me. Later, when we were saying our goodbyes for the evening, he was loud in his exclamation that we were leaving together and returning to his flat. I had to hide my laughter. Robert's usual too-cool-for-school conduct faded at the sight of Alex. It made it funnier when Alex pulled me aside while everyone was saying their goodbyes.

"Are you coming to the show tomorrow?"

I shook my head. 

"Come."

"I can't. I've got to babysit."

Matt interjected, "They let you around children?"

Before I could say anything, Alex told him, "Will you shut it, Matthew?"

When Matt moved away, Alex grabbed my hands. "Just come tomorrow. Another night of free drinks if you want."

I giggled at his earnestness. "I would if I could."

"Cancel. Come on."

"Al."

"Look, how many nights am I in town for? Come on, Janie."

His eyes wide, his mouth saying his name for me, and his hands clutching mine. I didn't say no.

*

My arms are crossed and my head is shaking the first time I hear "505" because I don't know what to make of it and I don't know what to make of this. Alex was dressed in a sky-blue Lacoste (this will be more relevant in a few years) and he pressed down on the keys as he pressed down on me.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I wasn't sure if I should cry or smile. The song left me uneasy and I felt I didn't know what was true anymore. That wavelength between us had been severed and I imagined Alex felt sad about our break-up but I never thought he was rethinking his actions and pining for that hotel room again. I had been the one to lament over our break-up and send it to him. He had stayed reserved in all his opinions and hid away his emotions. It wasn't a new thing by any means. But I did feel a sense of betrayal when I heard the information with 2,000 other people instead of under blankets and sheets, whispered in the dead of winter.

But I didn't want to talk about it so after the show I didn't bring it up. His mannerisms shifted from his awkward movement to more deliberately positioned as he hugged me after the show like he had done so many times before, sweaty.

"Drinks?" I asked him.

He moved back and forth between his left and right foot. "I was thinking I could see this new flat I keep hearing about." 

Everything was intentional and obvious. "It's not very fabulous."

He waved me off. "I'm sure you've gushed the place up."

"Gushed the place up?" I questioned his verbiage.

Alex rolled his eyes and squeezed my upper arm. "Come on. Let me see the grounds."

Off we went on the underground to my flat, just the two of us. He kept jumping in his seat on the way over, citing excitement. "It feels out of place that I haven't seen your place," he said.

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

On our way up the stairs to my flat, Alex tried to challenge me to a race but my feet hurt and I couldn't believe he still had enough energy after performing concert after concert. My back was slumped and Alex was standing up perked as I unlocked the door. 

"Georgia home?" He asked as we made our way through the door.

"With Kyle."

He nodded, tight-lipped. I could see the scene unfolding before him in his mind as we stood in the living room/kitchen hybrid. He looked around the room like he had actual interest in it before his eyes landed on me with a smile.

"Do you do this in every city?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Al. You're easy to read."

He stuffed his hands in his coat pocket as he tried to fight that grin bursting across his face. "I wanted to see your place."

I rolled my eyes and walked toward my bedroom. "Yeah, sure." He followed behind like an obedient puppy.

He was attentive in looking around the room, nearly all those trinkets he had memorized from my old room had been replaced with new ones. The poster flier from one of Georgia's poetry readings, the Amy Winehouse ticket stub, and the dumb joke from Alex's Christmas cracker were pinned on my mini bulletin board. The paper crown and mini deck of cards sat displayed on my desk. A slight upturn came to Alex's cheeks at the sight.

His gaze moved back to me. "A lot smaller than your room back home."

"Yeah. Rent's expensive and I'm paying rent now."

"Out from under your dad's thumb." Seeing him as pleased with this as I had been was a happy sight. Those long chats in hidden coves where we'd be independent together. But as always Alex was happy for me even without having him as codependence. 

Alex faked looking around my room more as I sat on the edge of my bed. He'd bend down to look at things like he was at a museum. His hands stayed in his pockets the whole time and he examined the corners and details of everything as if he'd be quizzed on it.

"Are you looking to see what you're going to steal from me?" I asked him.

He chuckled. "No, sorry. Just curious." He picked up the mini deck of cards, tossing it in his hands. "Round of Gin?"

"Alex." I wanted to be clear. "You came over here to play cards with me?"

His eyes were stuck on the deck's package, fiddling with the cardboard lid. "I just..." He shrugged multiple times and bounced on his feet. "I guess, I missed you, you know."

"Yeah." It was an easy sentiment to agree to because I feared I'd miss him for the rest of my life.

"We were in Tokyo a few weeks ago and I wanted to go see that Buddha you wrote about that, that, that—"

"Kamakura Daibutsu."

"Yeah." He looked down solemnly. "Wasn't there long enough to do it. I don't know. It just had me thinking about you and I know the relationship thing has sailed." 

I didn't believe that. I didn't want to believe that. I had held on to those hidden beliefs that after all the madness we'd return to each other's side and all would be well. An abyss grew in me that Alex didn't believe that too.

"But," he continued. "But just all that shite that I'd done to make it worse and I vowed I'd never do that and I'm sorry for being a total dickhead."

"I did things too that I knew would hurt you."

"You did nothing."

"I slept with someone in Aruba."

He froze, his stare on me as he processed the information. "Uh, that's fine."

I shook my head. "Don't do that. I don't want to start acting like my parents."

"I don't want tonight to be this depressing," he laughed wetly. 

"What did you want tonight to be?"

"I, I, to be—to hang out, to be with you."

"We could have done that at a pub. Why'd you want to come to my flat?" We looked at each other, both knowing the answer but waiting to see if the other would verbalize it.

He put the deck back on my desk and sat beside me. He stared forward at the wall for a moment before falling on his back. He rubbed his face as if to scrub it off, not wanting me to see the sight of it. My eyes never stopped following him. I was afraid to blink.

"My plan was to be all cute, tha knows."

"Aren't you always?"

The comment seemed to drop his guard a bit as he placed his hands on his chest. He took a deep breath and looked at me. His smile slowly grew as if it was being watered by the sight of me. "If you want to kiss me, you can."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him but my smile was unavoidable.

"Come on." He tugged on my wrist. "You wouldn't let me endure one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

I slapped away his hand's grip. "Quit mocking me."

He sat up. "I'm not mocking, Janie. I'm making the bad good." His face was right next to mine and it felt like the best move was to kiss him because kissing Alex could never be wrong even if he was leaving tomorrow and I would be left here.

So, therefore, having sex with Alex could never be an issue even though I slept with Robert the night before and I would sleep with him tomorrow. I wanted relief. The only solution was Alex in me. It was memorable.

*

His excitement worried me. "You're graduating in a few months. You could join us for festival season. It'll be in all those incredible places you want to go with beautiful weather. It'll be perfect. Where do you want to go? We'll go."

Lying in his arms had always been a comfort but now I felt this inevitability of hurting him with the false hope I had given. We lied on our sides, looking at each other, his hand draped over my waist.

"I don't know what kind of job I'll have after school. I might have to stay in London."

"We should hire you. You'll be our on-the-road journalist." His smile was infectious and I wished to have similar sentiments that once the obligation of school was done then we'd be fixed. But I wasn't going to kid myself.

I fell onto my back and clutched the bedsheet to my chest. "I think I'd be a bit biased. I don't want to be a journalist anyway."

"What do you want to be then, Janie?"

I shrugged. "I'll know when it's here."

Alex propped himself up on his elbow and quickly hovered over me. "You can't lie to me, Janie. You're a writer."

"Everybody's a writer," I argued.

He bit back a chuckle and shook his head. "Don't give me that shite for 4 years ago. You're a writer. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

"Well," I bite my lip, "there's this magazine, Granta, that I've submitted pieces to. I don't know if I want to do the whole freelance writer thing but I like writing what I want to write."

"Do it," he urged. "I'm not just saying that because you'll be able to come on the road with us."

I side-eyed him. "Sure."

"Have faith in me. I'm always looking out for the best for you. I'm always in your corner, Jane Cavendish."

It hit me. I knew it was the truth and he had always rallied for me so deeply even when we were far away from each other. "Ditto."

Alex rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. "Plus, you'll be able to see us headline Glastonbury."

I laughed but he didn't correct himself. I looked over and that smug bastard smirked at me and slowly nodded his head. "Fuck off. You're joking." He wasn't. Obviously.

*

Alex left for Liverpool at 6:30 AM. He shook me out of sleep saying he'd see me in a few weeks and kissed me.

Hours later, when I woke up, I would've figured I'd dreamt it if he hadn't written a note and placed it on my nightstand.

Come to Leadmill on the 21st & 22nd. I want a formal review. —A.T.

A couple of days later, Favourite Worst Nightmare dropped, including my—to this day—only songwriting credit on "Fluorescent Adolescent." I sent a text to Alex calling him a plagiarist. He told me to look out for the royalties check.

My relationship with Robert had remained unchanged but he gave the impression he knew what I had done with Alex. We never talked about it and when I left for Wakefield on the 20th he told me to tell the band he liked the album. I kissed his cheek. He was an annoying piece of shit but he was my friend. Few people understood it but we related to one another in a way I've never related with anyone. We were twin flames and it's why I couldn't handle him for more than a night at a time. We lit each other's fires but a fire is still a fire even if it keeps you warm on a cold night and burns you the next.

In Wakefield, my parents informed me they were moving. It had little to no effects on me other than sentimentality and having to clean out my childhood room. Stacey, however, would be uprooted and for that, I hurt.

My parents' guilt-tripped generosity allowed Stacey to attend The Leadmill show—her first Arctic Monkeys concert. She was slightly aware of the ambiguity of Alex and I's relationship and over the winter had prodded me for more. No one can claim to be a bigger fan of Alex Turner than Stacey, not even myself.

I wore my Arctic Monkeys tour T-shirt purchased at the London shows and Stacey wore the one I had purchased for her (I bought them at the merch table because it felt too awkward to ask Alex or the band for one. I used to just steal them. I decided to not hold the poor merch girl at gunpoint for a shirt). I drove my car there so Alex couldn't persuade me into drinks after. Stacey's coming eliminated any funny business. I wanted to get through school before starting anything up with Alex again. If I was even going to do that. I wasn't sure yet.

The setlist had a few new inclusions and Stacey jumped around freely. It was a beautiful sight of youth to see. It's the first time I really felt old at the thought that used to be me. Then, I felt stupid. I was a fresh 21, I had no clue how old old would really feel.

After the show, we congratulated the band on a good show and said good night. Alex told me to come to his parents' house before the show tomorrow. I accepted. I missed David and Penny. They would also be a good prevention buffer.

Up in his room, we sat on his bed and talked like the old days. There was much that had happened to talk about. Alex took the news of the house selling harder than me. I guess my sentimentality had rubbed off on him but I never viewed that house in the rose-coloured view that Alex did. But moments in my room I've locked away in my heart for just him and me. Things for only my ears to hear, my eyes to see, and my flesh to feel and vice versa for him.

After the show, we sat in my car.

"I feel like we're back to being 18," I told him.

"Why?"

I laughed to shield the seriousness with which I was speaking. "These trysts of ours."

"I already told Miles so." He had come out and performed "505" with them that night.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "Of course you did."

He shrugged helplessly.

"I'm still—well, I continued my thing with Robert. I'm not gonna lie to you."

"I kind of figured."

"I don't know how I feel about starting this again. Always being so far."

Alex sighed and leaned forward on his elbow on the center console. "After you've graduated that might not even be an issue."

"I'm not gonna follow you around like a puppy dog for years, Alex."

"I don't expect you to. But it could be fun this summer. After that, there'll be a break and we'll go wherever you pick. Swear it." He stuck his pinky out.

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked at his sweet face, always seeing so much with those big eyes. I loved him to pieces. Through all the struggles, there was that sweet face. So, I wrapped my pinky around his.

*

Alex was in Orlando when I graduated. He sent me a long email that is too long and personal to be printed in full here but here's an excerpt.

I think you should be a food reviewer that way we get into all the best restaurants that I'm not elegant enough to get into. Or you could just bat your eyelashes. Either would work I'm sure.

Be whatever you want. You'll be the best at it. Unless you want to do my job then stick to your day job otherwise I'll be out of one. Call me after, whenever you can. I wish I was there so imagine I am. It'll make me feel better.

He sounded like a dad. Some version of Atticus Finch morphed into a buffoon. I thought for hours about how to respond to the email. My eyes began to hurt so I just sent him photos from the day that Georgia had taken. 

Georgia hid her discrepancies with me over abandoning the flat to "run off with Alex" as she said every time I brought up my summer plans. I sublet my room with full intentions of returning in September. 

Robert was messier. We mutually seemed to agree that our sexual relationship would come to an end in May when we graduated. Robert held plans of going to New York and being a vagabond and I felt settled in London. Our activity had grown sparse after my trip to Yorkshire but didn't cease.

Two nights before graduation, I told him of my plans for the summer. He nodded along but laughed when I finished. "Whatever, Jane, be a fucking groupie all your life."

"I'm not."

He laughed maliciously at me. "I think you're scared of what comes after uni so you're clinging to this rich, successful ex-boyfriend. Play second fiddle to him. That's fine."

He was jealous. But I worried he was right.

*

I met up with the band in Dublin, which seemed fitting. It was easy to fall into the old habits of 2005 when I joined the band during the summer. However, Alex and I's relationship hadn't returned to what it had been. I slept in his bunk due to lack of space but that wasn't difficult. We struggled more with communication.

Their two shows in Dublin were messy and fanatical in the crowd. I stood backstage and listened to people singing along to a song I wrote. It didn't feel as out-of-body as I imagined and I wondered if Alex felt the same way when he heard the crowd singing along with him. 

In between their first and second show in Dublin, Alex and I escaped to Wicklow, much to the annoyance of his management who worried the whole day that he had ditched the show. We returned in time, although we did cut it close.

We hiked the Glen Beach Cliff where the ocean kissed the mountains and I knew Alex wanted to complain the whole time but he didn't. His shoes were old, the seams nearly ripped open as we hiked the 3 miles. Below us, on the beach, were seals. It felt like a different world compared to the one we had experienced last night.

As we walked downhill, Alex wrapped his arm around me and despite nearly tripping several times and knocking me down with him, I refused to let him remove the arm. 

"Are we dating again?" He asked.

It had been a largely neglected topic, mostly because I hadn't made my mind up about it. It was easy to be with Alex but being with Alex when we weren't actually with each other was frustrating. My biggest worry had always been ruining our friendship over the failure of our romantic relationship. Still, I wasn't sure of anything. "I guess."

He lightly chuckled. "That was enthusiastic."

"I'm sorry. I guess my question remains about what will happen after summer." The wind swirled around us and I tried my best to keep my hair out of my face.

"That's more a question for you than for me. You know what I want but I'm going to be happy for you whatever way you go. You know that right?" Alex has always been insistent on making sure I know he's steadfast in his support of whatever direction I decide to head and he has held true to that (mostly).

"Then, I'll need time to think about that. See what opportunities come my way this summer."

He nodded and tugged me closer. "This is over in December and then I'm all yours. Besides, I've already called you me girlfriend so you can't go back on it now."

In my sarcastic nature, I tossed my head on his shoulder, sounding, "Ugh! Don't be presumptuous, Al."

*

I got my favourite pair of sunglasses stolen at Glastonbury and I will hunt down the thief until the day that I die. Not that sunglasses were required for much of that day. The sky was dim, the ground was muddy, and it rained the whole weekend. We got there a day early to settle and like any night before a big show, it was spent drinking and horsing around late into the night.

Alex and I didn't get to bed until way past midnight and even then we had left Jamie, Matt, and other mates still fucking around. As we got ready for bed Alex had grown quiet, slow in his movements, and shrinking down into the small bed.

We laid down together and silence was awkward and he felt stiff. "You nervous?"

"Yeah," he laughed out in an effort to mask his nerves.

I curled my arm around and hugged him. I did my best to comfort him the way he always did for me. I held him tight and tried to possess a shoulder to cry on the best I could. "You know, I'll still love you even if you make a fool of yourself."

"Thanks." I leaned back to look at him as he struggled with a smile. His hand reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear. He held my cheek and it felt like his muscles had finally relaxed. "I'll try my best not to. I know you don't want to be stuck with a fool." 

"Aren't you already?"

He rolled his eyes and was relieved with a laugh. "Maybe only for you."

"That's so cheesy. You should be put in jail."

"As long as you were there."

I slapped a thunk onto his arm. "Stop it, you. I'll imprison you. Shush!"

He resisted my push away from him, wormed his arm under me, and landed the other over me. He wiggled us close and he felt like a preheated oven as my bones were left out to defrost. "Are you happy? Excited?"

Alex often needed me to reassure him during this period of our lives, especially after we got back together. That summer our relationship was ambiguous and it was easy for Alex to fear that at the first sign of unhappiness, I would ditch him. He wasn't exactly wrong. I wouldn't have left if Glasto sucked but if I became unhappy with Alex, it was an easy out for me. I've always appreciated easy outs.

"Yeah. I wish I had a camera. Then, I could sell them all to The Sun and make a killing."

"Is all this okay with you?" More questions. Another valid one. An undiscussed topic had often been I, an at-the-time unknown, being pulled into the public eye for my attachment to Alex. It's not like he was some tabloid superstar but it didn't leave me as a virtual unknown, especially with the band only getting bigger.

I nodded, my ear rustling against the pillow. "No stalkers. Except maybe you." He hadn't left my side since we arrived. I couldn't complain one bit. For once, I wasn't the clingy one.

He mused, "What can I say? I love you."

"Stop." Too cheesy, too cheesy.

Alex laughed into his pillow. He softened up and inched closer to me on our tiny bed. "Why didn't you bring your camera?" My photograph production had declined since college but I still held onto the habit.

I frowned. "It broke right before graduation."

"The ol’ Canon finally bit the dust,” he joked. It had been the only camera I ever owned. I used my mother’s old cameras when I took that photography class with Matt. I never bothered investing more in it than what I could borrow. “We can pick up another one."

I sighed. "Too much money. I'm an independent woman now."

"Oh, damn, you need me to be your daddy now."

I pushed him off the bed.

*

We mudded up our wellies the following day to see Amy Winehouse before the rain poured in full force again. I think it relaxed everyone to feel like we went to Glasto just to enjoy it and not actually headline it. We nodded our heads along with the songs and stood with our hands stuffed into our pockets. 

Opposing Alex's nerves, I was wracked with excitement. I went off into my own world during Glastonbury and wanted to enjoy the hippie nature and the history. I loved the whole weekend. The nights after watching The Killers and The Who and I'm pissed with Arctic Monkeys to this day for having me miss Björk to watch their stupid headline set.

Dressed in their overcoats and Matt with his Adidas track pants, their set went off without a hitch and I had fun dancing with Katie and briefly with Dizzee Rascal before he joined them onstage for "Temptation Greets You Like A Naughty Friend." The road had and would be lonely but it was eased a little bit by having another girl by my side. When Miles came out and joined the band for "505" I thought of Eva. I hadn't talked or heard about her since The Little Flames disbanded. I shamed myself for it. I had become a person who held onto objects that reminded you of a person as an excuse to no longer see them.  The thought crossed my mind that Georgia was my only friend and I hadn't talked to her since I joined the band on the road. Then, Katie hugged me to her side and I felt a little less lonely.

I had grown desensitized to the meaning behind Alex's songwriting. I never stopped and thought about how he was singing songs that were rooted in our break-up because it no longer seemed important because we were together and how the past could affect the future. But there was this moment during "Do Me A Favour" where he had seemed rather emotional, furiously strumming his guitar and rushed singing close to his microphone. I felt ashamed for not having the same reaction as him. I felt like I was missing a gene by not crying at "Mardy Bum" or not swooning at "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" but I suppose night after night, I just became numb to the meanings of those songs. I wish I hadn't. I wish I enjoyed it more but everything felt fleeting so I made no effort to cherish moments at that age.

When they got off stage the thought had floated away and we were ready for a night of exhausted celebration. The weather was rough and the band had their casual round of press before we enjoyed drinks and party favours in the camper. Alex and I made out against the door of a porta-potty at one point. It was very disgusting.

*

I fulfilled more travel fantasies with this tour. The limitations no longer sat in Great Britain and Ireland as we moved up to Scandinavia, first stopping in Oslo. I was set loose and skipped their concert, instead visiting the Akershus Fortress and seeing "The Scream" at the Munch Museum finally returned to its home after being stolen in 2004 (although, I'm partial to Munch's "Madonna" but that's neither here nor there). In Stockholm, I continued this by going to the Vasa Museum and in the evening hiking up to Skinnarviksberget and watching the sunset, but, sadly, no Northern Lights.

We continued the festival run going through Germany and then Rock Werchter where at this point I should have broken the world record for seeing Lily Allen live as I once again watched her on the Pyramid Marquee before seeing my boys on the Main Stage.

A festival or so later, a day off was given before their Paris show, and, in a way, I finally got my Parisian dream. The hotel was nice and the toilet worked like how a normal toilet works but Alex and I shared a room. Privacy for the first time since his room in Sheffield. We did the obvious, a few times.

It's weird to put it how sex works with Alex and me. It's like a weird recalibrating device. I suspect it's because our relationship started through it that whenever we need to get back on the same page fucking seems to help. It was late and we shared a cigarette after because you can do that then in Paris. I would talk, he would smoke it, then he would talk, I would smoke it.

"You and Katie have become best mates," he said. Katie had returned back to England a few days prior and I once again was the lone girl.

"I like her a lot. She's a calm presence amongst the chaos."

"Yeah, she's done Jamie a world of good. Calmed him a bit." That was undeniably true. Jamie had always been a kind and caring guy but he had an uncontrollable craze at times and a mouth that poured at things that maybe shouldn't have been said. Katie seemed to kick him and keep him in check.

I have always been fascinated with how people change people. Somewhere at our center these people worm their way in and change your hardwiring or maybe they just expose what has always been there. "Have I calmed you?"

Alex chuckled. "Quite the opposite I think."

"Hey!" I became jokingly affronted. "I can be a calm presence. You lot are the ones who are messing around so much."

He continued to laugh at me. Eyes bright and smile light. He reached over and began to pet my hair. "I don't think calm would be the right word." I thought about hitting his chest but that would prove his point. "I just think you've made me more confident."

It was a peculiar thought to me. I didn't feel confident most of the time and I was nowhere near the confidence of going on stage and headlining festivals as a band's frontman. "How?" I asked.

He reached back to stub out the cigarette on the ashtray on the bedside table but he kept his hand steady on the side of my head, rubbing smooth circles. He returned closer and with a soft smile. "In a lot of ways. Your encouragement." I couldn't argue with that. Alex had done the same for me tenfold. "I feel like if you believe in me, even if I fuck up out there, you'll still be here." I wanted to always be there. I hated how life got in the way and people stayed and others went and I just wanted to stay in little corners of the world with Alex forever. But in those early years, it was an impossibility. We tried our best. 

"Plus, you're smoking hot." I rolled my eyes but I was, of course, charmed by the comment (I mean, I wrote it here for a reason. I want everyone to know he finds me smoking hot). "Do you know the power I have by having you as a girlfriend? For god's sake, Robert almost kicked my ass over you."

I pushed away from him. "Ew. Don't talk about Robert when I'm naked."

"Why? You've been naked with him."

Forces froze and I waited to see if he had more to say or if I had anything to say but we both felt chilled by the awkwardness. I slowly sat up more against the headboard and rested back against it. "Were you hurt by that?"

"What?"

"Me having sex with Robert because you don't really have a right to be pissed." I was defensive because I was in the right but I also framed his words as an attack.

Alex was slow in his response, I guess he was trying to find the best way to say what he was thinking without me biting his head off for it. "No. I mean, you're right. There's no reason to be pissed."

I wanted to know his real feelings. I knew he wouldn't shame me for doing it but I wondered if he felt the act of Robert and I's relationship was an attack against him. I played with my fingernails and we didn't make eye contact. We were two planks beside one another. "But were you?"

I peeked over. His shoulders shrugged and he looked down at his hands. We were mirror images of each other. "I don't know. I mean, I don't like the idea of you being with anyone else. Truthfully, Robert annoys me so I guess that confused me or upset me more. But I love you, you know." He looked over. Insistent on this part. "And that's not going away. I figured that out a long time ago. As much as I love the idea that I get to be with you for...you know, I know that I can't get everything I want. But I want you to get all that. I want it more for you than for me. You got that?"

It took me a while to regain control. I was stuck between smiling so wide my face ripped into two and crying until my eyes fell out. I took a shaky breath. "Yeah. But I want all that for you too so you're right back to getting everything you've wanted again because I want that."

"You're always forcing me to take care of myself, Janie."

I hugged him. I needed to touch him. To hold him. I whispered into his neck, "It's 'cause I love you, you know."

*

When the tour went on break I went with Alex to Black Box Studios in Maine-et-Loire, France where he and Miles recorded the first Last Shadow Puppets album. The whole album was recorded in a matter of 2 weeks but nothing about it was rushed. The landscape was lush and the downtime felt like something out of an Eric Rohmer film.

On the last few dates of the tour, we ended up in Sydney. It was the only time during the tour that I got the urge to call my mother. I didn't because my Nokia couldn't call that far but I sent her and my father a postcard and I bought Stacey Uggs, authentic Uggs. We had a day off where we went to Bondi Beach where Matt and I braved the cold water. Afterwards, we visited the zoo where I got to hold a koala. I felt like holding a baby, except with the softest fur imaginable. Afterward, I pouted about not being allowed to own one so Alex bought me a koala stuffed animal.

A week after, the band went to play Summer Sonic in Osaka and Tokyo. I went back home for a week. It wasn't intentional, the dates just lined up that way but it felt best to skip such a rough place. Alex has a habit of embodying the mood of places based on memories. This behavior can likely only exist for a guy who has been to so many places.

I joined The Last Shadow Puppets a few days into recording. When I arrived, Miles and Alex had just returned from riding their bikes together. They looked like twins, shaggy-haired and brown-eyed boys. Alex threw his bike down and tossed his arm over to me like we were two buds, just getting off our shift at work. It filled me with endless excitement. Then, Miles came over and cupped my face, pinching my cheeks. I slapped him away and we went inside and had dinner.

At that dinner table, I could picture a whole future. Ones where Alex and I had Miles over our house, our little stray puppy. Nights where we all went out drinking and he crashed on our couch. Miles and I would both be hungover and Alex would give us painkillers and make us scrambled eggs.

Side-by-side, Alex and I brushed our teeth. It was a greater act of love than a marriage proposal.

*

I had begun to videotape these Shadow Puppets. On the morning of my second day there, Alex and I were lounging around in bed when he told me he had a little present. He came out with a camera, a Pentax 17. 

"For me?" I pointed to myself, holding the delicate thing, cradling it like my baby.

He snorted a laugh. "Who else?" He petted my hair back and he was the sweetest man who ever lived. 

In those two weeks, I didn't have many subjects. Most of the footage and pictures were of Miles and Alex. James Ford, who produced and drummed with the Puppets, made some appearances. I slipped by in a couple too. I began to develop this plan to make a documentary on the band. It fell through, mainly because when they went to do the orchestral parts of the album in December, I couldn't go, and I was also lazy. They used some of it for a 4play documentary but it wasn't the vision I had. Alex says I would have won an NME award (I have desperately wanted to win one solely for the middle finger trophy. Alex has plenty, only one on display for joking sake, but I would beg to win one. It might have been my only chance). It probably would have sucked. I've never worked with actual film to make a movie. I never worked with anything to make a movie because I've never made a movie. I will never make one either. Because I am lazy. But, I guess, I'll get through the rest of this book and stop interrupting the flow of the story by telling you I'm getting ready to write more of this book which you will read now. Or now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now.

Now, I have filmed much more on that camera other than Miles and Alex skipping through great fields and picking daisies, although I still shoot that too. If I could submit home videos for the NME Awards, I would have won one by now.

Most afternoons we rode bikes around the tiny town. I would occasionally drop into the studio out of pure boredom but I spent the majority of my downtime writing or exploring. One afternoon, the trio of us biked by Château d'Armaillé.  It was a lofty manor contrast to the farms and livestock breeders we usually biked by. I stopped and stared as I usually do.

"Can you believe people lived in that thing?" I questioned, completely mesmerised.

Alex laughed, already pleased with his joke. "Yeah, isn't that the size of your family home?" 

*

On our last night there we had a little dinner party with everyone we had come across at Black Box Studios in the two weeks we had been there. Since this was pretty much the middle of nowhere, there were very few people. But it felt celebratory to end this little project with gloriously catered French food and playing dress-up. It was mainly an excuse for me to wear a vintage dress I had found at a used clothing store in Nantes when I was waiting for a car out to Black Box. 

It was a white drop-waist dress with a little bow on the side of my hip and a skirt with a light lace overlay. It was paired with a cloche hat that I regretfully didn't buy, but I still have the dress. Alex wore a button-down and slacks but Miles and I talked him into wearing a stupid top hat that had been lying around Black Box for the 2 weeks we were there. Alex ended up taking it home with him, although he does not still have it. Miles wore shorts, a grey T-shirt, and a bowtie. 

The food and conversations were far more important with the most delicious potatoes I've ever tasted that were mixed with a sauce that I might forever be wondering what it was but my tongue can still feel the taste. The wine was white and Alex dropped his glass on the floor halfway through the dinner, which he doesn't want me to mention, which means I totally will be mentioning it (obviously).

His arm rested on the back of my chair and our plates had long been cleared and the dessert, Gâteau Nantais (a delicious almond pound cake, soaked in rum, and topped with glaze—I really, really liked these meals), had been picked away at. I was still eating the crumbs of my second slice and Alex drank from his new wine glass. I could see futures, but for the first time, I felt like this was the future. Friends, old and mostly new, surrounded us and we drank and ate and talked and laughed and the warmth of Alex radiated on me. I was in love with everything.

"Will Jane be heading back on the road for North America?" James asked Alex. 

He turned to me with his teeth showing, smiling enough for sparks to come off it. Pride radiated off of him; it still makes me want to cry. "As of this morning, Miss Cavendish has a job with Simon & Schuester." 

When I told Alex, I was cautiously concerned that his worries would overshadow the news, but I never doubted he'd be happy for me. I got the call when he was brushing his teeth. I told him when he returned to our room and he grabbed my hands and made me jump on the bed with him. (Shall I avoid the Monkeys Jumping on the Bed joke?).

The table cheered loudly and drunkenly. "Oh, shit, I know those two boys!" Miles, sooooooo drunk, exclaimed. I bashfully tucked my chin down, avoiding the attention. 

Alex's hand skimmed over my left shoulder. He bent down to kiss my downturned cheek and it was like my crush just kissed the spot—my cheeks flushed red and my heart pounded on the gates of my ribs. 

I waved for the noise to quiet down. "It's just an editorial assistant position."

Alex squeezed my shoulder, looking over at me, and rolling his eyes. "Cut it with that rubbish, Janie. It should have been the first thing we cheers to when we sat down."

He reached for his wine glass and I shoved his arm away. "Stop it. You're flustering me." His breath smelled of Chardonnay and his behavior spelled out drunk—his bubbly drunk phase, which is the most flattering phase. He leaned over kissing my cheeks repeatedly making the table erupt in noise again. I took a grip on his face and tried to push him away.

"I've made you all red," he boasted. Alex's face was all red too but it was likely more to do with the alcohol than me. "It's time to cheers, Janie." He motioned toward my almost empty wine glass. I shook my head. "Time to cheers, Janie," he insisted. 

"You sure you aren't going to drop your glass again?" I teased.

"Oh, shut it, you," he said, but he laughed and tugged me close to him. I almost thought he was going to give my head a noogie.

He drank all the wine out of his glass before raising it. "To Jane Cavendish, Simon & Schuester Editorial Assistant."

*

I started on a Wednesday and I did little editing in my editorial position. But Helen, one of the editors, gave me old drafts they hadn't published and the book and told me to pick all the differences out and she would be quizzing me on it the next day. I went out drinking with Lee and Georgia and came in hungover the next day. Helen said I was the first editorial assistant she had that didn't fall for the quiz prank. That endeared her to me and she became my mentor.

Alex was off doing interviews about virginity for the Virgin Fest and I had never been more thankful I didn't lose my virginity to him. I used to wish that and tell Stacey when assuring her not to lose it so young. But it's probably best since I'd associate the time I lost my virginity with an interviewer from AXS Uncut asking Alex to name virgins.

I had moved back in with Georgia and her new girlfriend, Kyle, who was always a sweetheart, even if she didn't do the dishes. They weren't the annoying kind of couple to live with. They weren't loud and I never felt like the third wheel around them. It was easy for my mind to drift to Alex. I would relive the way Black Box felt. While the majority of it felt like a vacation, at its core, we were coming home each night together. The home is what we lacked on the road and the togetherness is what we lacked at home. I just thought of him being in my bed, sleeping. I always liked the way he looked sleeping.

Alex called more than he did on the last tour. I guess he had learned a lesson. Being in North America was a bit easier than when he'd been in the Eastern Hemisphere since he was only 6 hours behind. He'd call me when I got off work before he'd perform his concert and we would talk of the monotony of my day. A couple of hours later, usually while I was sleeping, he'd text me about how the concert went. It was usually only one word: "Good." "Great." "Best." "Sucked." "Wanker." "Drunk." 

We had fallen into a pattern and although it seemed dull, it was successful. My heart still ached and sometimes the sight of Georgia and Kyle made me want to stick my head in the oven, but he was there when I needed him, even though he couldn't be here.

Working felt comfortable and, for once, I eased into that comfort. I got after-work drinks with editors and fellow editorial assistants. I'd joke around with superiors at work and I'd go home to Georgia and Kyle, who had made dinner for me. Georgia was working various gigs, but still heavily focusing on poetry. Kyle worked as a set developer, which meant our living room looked like a craft store had exploded. I didn't mind. I spent most of my off-time in my room and would only venture to the living room when we watched TV together.

However, when the North American leg finished at the beginning of October, Alex dropped by, and with a clicking of his tongue and the shaking of his head, he said, "Oh, Janie. You've got glitter everywhere." He said this in front of Kyle, so I hit the back of his head and dragged him to my bedroom.

Alex's stay at our flat during October was never agreed upon, he just showed up and I'd never turn him away. A week in, however, Georgia asked me when it was just the two of us in our kitchen, early in the morning before I headed off to work, "So, is he like living with us now?"

I shrugged. "No. I mean, he'll be back on the road before the end of the month."

"How do you feel about that?" What a good therapist she would be.

"Better than last time. I'm occupied now. I don't have to worry about lying around all the time thinking of him."

"You're a big girl now, Cavendish. But if he stays past a month, he will have to pay rent."

I laughed out loud. "I doubt he'll be living here with us."

"All I’m saying is rich rockstar can pitch in on groceries."

I told Alex of this conversation and he took me to the store to point out all of Georgia's favourite food goodies and bought them for her. Georgia felt bad after that until she had Jelly Babies. Then, she insisted Alex buy groceries every week.

On Alex's last night at the flat, he bought takeaway for everyone and watched I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! with us. Several jokes were made about Alex doing the show, but I don't think Alex could eat a bug or be stuck with Katie Hopkins for a month. After dinner, Georgia and Kyle left for a "late-night poetry reading" or more likely avoid-the-lovebirds game.

Alex and I showered, changed into pajamas, and brushed our teeth together. In two parentheses, curled to bookend one another, Alex brushed his hand down my side. I told him, "I hope you get a good tan in South America."

"I'm too pale for you, Janie?"

"Maybe your butt," I giggled. It was some form of drunk-in-love. I felt rush through me every time he looked at me. It was like taking a hit.

"Wish you could come with us," he said. He was sober in his tone but his eyes were glazed over.

"Me too, but I'm happy here. I love my job and it sucks to not be with you but—"

He smiled—beamed bright and overwhelming. "But you're happy." He curled into me. My manners had transferred to him as he curled his arms around me and dug his face into my neck. "I'll be back for a week in November."

"And you'd come back here?" I questioned. There was a touch of uncertainty in everything we did that year, mostly because we had never even said we were back together and the other part was the reason for our break-up.

Alex lifted his head, his smile still showing. "Yeah." He sounded so happy and sunny. It was a cocoon of bliss. The young love I had always wanted. His fingers traced over my shoulder, making little finger drawings. His eyes looked down on his creation, avoiding my eyes. "And then we've got two shows here in December and then that last show in Manchester, which I thought maybe you could take off work and come up for. It's on a Monday so understandable if you can't."

I smiled at him but I'm unsure if he saw it due to his shy gaze dodging my face. "I'll try my best. I'll definitely be at the London ones."

His face was aglow but attentive to his finger tracing. "And then I was thinking, maybe—I don't know—maybe I'd come back to London."

I lightly chuckled. "You're not banned from the city. You're always welcome here. Georgia and Kyle like you a lot."

"I like them too but I was thinking we could stay somewhere else."

"What? Like a hotel?"

He finally looked me in the eye. "No, maybe we move in together. Like, get our own place. Maybe. It was just a thought."

It pleased me to no end. The thought wrapped its way around me the first time we slept together and over three years later to encounter the reality of it, I couldn't believe it. "A flat for just the two of us?"

"Yeah. I know you like it here but maybe we could find somewhere that I'm not finding specks of glitter all over my clothes."

I giggled all over him. "Yeah, yeah. I'd like that too. I'd like anywhere as long as you're there."

Alex shook his head with a big smile like he couldn't believe it. He hugged me, kissing my cheek, and then...then we did other stuff, you know.

*

People have asked me if Alex plays songs for me. They've imagined a world in which Alex sings me a lullaby every night. And I guess the answer is "yes" but I'd say more of a "sort of" situation. Alex would often strum his guitar to me but not in a dedicative format. It was something he would have done if I was there or if I wasn't. So, I would say he never did it for me.

Except once.

He was back in London and he had arrived late the night before. I was in my jammies and my slippers when he arrived and he made fun of me for my pajama pants that had Christmas elves printed on them. 

I was waiting on my bed for him to return from the bathroom. He came back, chilly from the lack of heating; Georgia and I weren't turning it on again this winter. He paced around my room before he asked, "Can I play you something?"

I furrowed my brows. "Like a song?"

He nodded and picked up his guitar. "I'm gonna do it on Radio 2 tomorrow. Like a little teaser for what's to come."

"So, this is a song for the next album?"

He shrugged. "Maybe." We never talked about the next thing, which was a problem and not a good choice for our reunited relationship.

Alex adjusted his guitar on his lap and sat in front of me, playing "Fire and the Thud" to me. He had never been that overtly romantic in a song before. Songs on the previous two albums never felt like love songs, but rather songs of longing or infatuation. But it felt like he had written this song for me as he played it for me. 

It would be one of the sweetest things anybody has ever done for me if he didn't go on to do even more songs for me. Not to brag or anything.

After he put his guitar down, I curled my arms around his neck and yanked him down with me to lay back on the bed. "You like it?"

"Loved it. I love everything you write."

"Yeah, but you really loved this one right?"

"Sure."

*

A few weeks later, when Alex and I returned from the final show of the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour, we moved into a new flat. Together. I had picked the flat out. Alex said whatever I liked he'll like and I wasn't going to argue being the sole picker. 

We moved in at a record speed, mainly because I had very little stuff and Alex had nothing, everything still back home in his childhood bedroom. My parents had officially moved down to Bath and I had received scathing phone calls from Stacey. I still feel sorry for that poor teenage girl.

Alex and I got a studio, which I liked because it felt artsy and a total adult thing to share a studio with your boyfriend. Later, it would be the start of many fights between Alex and me because I never had any privacy.

We had our bed in one corner, the kitchen in the other, and a small bathroom down the hall. Plus, it was in Clerkenwell, which was closer to work. We had his record player on the floor and a shared dresser. It was a greater act of love than sex or writing songs. It was his things mixed with mine.

We weren't there for very long. We each went back to our family's homes for Christmas, which suddenly was no longer the same area. Our time apart was short and when we returned we cleaned up the rest of our shared apartment and decided to have a New Year's Eve party.

It was wild debauchery from start to finish. Though we provided liquor, it seemed like every guest came with their own stash. I hadn't realized how many friends Alex had in London. His number of guests heavily outweighed mine but it didn't have much of an issue. Everything was communal and it was truly a night where everyone seemed free. Maybe it was the New Year's part or maybe it was being in the start of our early 20s. When I look back on this time, I forget how young I was. 17 and slutting up the streets at Barnsley and how in 4 years, I had obtained an establishing job and lived in London with my boyfriend. It was a dream book experience and like most things it was a small portion of our lives. But I felt straight out of a movie with this ending to the year I had received. 

Katie and I hid in a corner to talk close together to avoid all the noise. We shared a drink and both drowned in heavy alcohol consumption but we loved each other very much and I knew we'd be friends forever (I was very drunk when I thought this and slurred this to her but time has held this statement to be true. Drunk words are sober futures). "I'm going to marry him," I told her. We were watching Jamie attempt to throw Alex over his shoulder, fireman-style. Alex was a sweet ragdoll, laughing about and swaying.

Jamie was the loyal rescuer. "I'm going to marry him too," she slurred back to me. "We'd be like band sisters-in-law."

"Aw," I cooed. "I don't have a sister-in-law." (I mean, I do, my brother's wife, but I was referring more to Alex being an only child and I was wildly drunk. Forgive me, Cecilia).

"Then I can be yours!"

Before midnight, only a minute or so before, Alex and I huddled up in the kitchen with our closest friends of the bunch. Matt and Jamie were arguing about who had drunk more and we all watched on laughing. I was burrowed under Alex's arm. He was the cave I chose to hibernate in this winter.

"Don't forget the beer you had before coming here," Alex egged Matt on.

"Yes! And the beer I had 'fore coming here!" Matt sloppily shouted to Jamie. 

I pulled on Alex's hand he had thrown over me. "Don't they know I'm the drunkest?"

Alex chuckled. "Yes, with that breath you probably are." He was quite sober compared to the rest of us. Mostly because he knew how drunk I would be getting and somebody had to make sure our new place didn't get destroyed. 

I pulled back, offended. "It is not that bad."

"Yes, it is," he laughed.

"So bad you won't kiss me at midnight?" I hung off of him. You'd think we were in some basement in Wakefield.

He moved his hand down to the arch of my back to steady me. "I could never not kiss you."

My eyes snapped over to him, and I raised my eyebrows with a smirk. "Really? I don't recall that being the truth."

He laughed again. "Fair enough." But then he leaned in and kissed me until way after midnight, making out in the kitchen. It was disgusting and I loved the whole thing.

Nick knocked into us as he moved through the kitchen. "I'd tell you to get a room but we're all in it." He laughed, pleased with his joke, and moved to grab another beer.

Later in the evening, Nick threw up on our bed. Nick was the drunkest. 

Somewhere around one in the morning, I sat on Alex's lap and his arms were around me, holding me close to him as I talked to Georgia on one side of the couch and Alex talked to Miles on the other side of the couch. We held separate conversations about separate lives but he held me to him and he held me tight.

*

a/n: sigh, this is all i can think about writing as of late. i am a series girl after all.

[remembertheplunge]

I come out to my father 1995

10/27/1995

I let Dad have it tonight, demanding that I go with him to pick Mom up…and, somehow in the process, I told him I was gay. He said “I’ve known 10 years. I knew when you were in high school. I’ve known men in important places who were gay. I love you. At 74, sex with a man, woman, fingers doesn’t matter. So, it’s  (sex) over!”

10/28/1995

Talked with Dad tonight. He went to a bar today and had a couple of drinks over the gay thing (Me telling him yesterday that I am gay). He’s decided it’s OK. “But, don’t tell anyone in Lincoln.” He was amazed to know that I’ve known since age 13. I told him it’s been a nightmare. And, I’m trying to prevent it from happening to other kids.”

End of entries

Note: 10/5/2024

In October 1995, I was 40 and my father was 74. Both sides of our family lived in Lincoln Nebraska or near by in the Mid West.  I was born there. My father was aware of the homophobic attitudes  held by many of  our relatives. That’s why he told me not to tell them. 

When I wrote that I was trying to prevent it from happening to other kids, I meant that, when I got the chance,  I encouraged kids and adults to come out of the closest and lead full  lives.

When I told my father it had been a nightmare, I meant that I had gone from 1968, when I was 13, to 1984, when I finally came out as a gay man, play acting straight. It was a numbing, nullifying way to live. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t have fun and friends, but, it was like being a character in a play. It was a role, it was not “me”.