#looking at my blogs (procrastinating) and seeing THREE MONTHS AGO—

[kyouka-supremacy]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[sensesdialed]

..... hey guys i'm alive by the way just still on @bravevolunteer

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 3

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: we get to know the besties a bit, jihyo and tae being our cutesie side characters <3 oc and jk both spill the beans to their friends,mentions of the infamous ex (booo, throwing tomatoes), oc buys and wears lingerie for jk, she sends him a photo in said lingerie, explicit sexual content; making out, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, missionary, squirting, soft dom jk, multiple orgasms, jk learns something new about oc, jk's in his feelings, my poor baby, jk's also a teeny tiny bit of a stalker...but in a sweet way if that makes any sense :)

author's note: part 3 took longer than i would've liked bc my procrastination was kicking my ass. anyway, pls enjoy !!! things will start being a bit more eventful from part 4 onwards so bear with me 🤪🫶🏼 as usual, make sure to like, reblog and pleeeaaase share all your thoughts and feelings about these kiddos <3

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @mimi1097 @livinluvl @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @puppybunnyjkay @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's been a week since Jungkook came over. You spoke here and there in passing but you haven't had a chance to actually hang out again after that night because you're both just too busy prepping for final exams before the long awaited summer break. This time of year is always a bit crazy for both the students and the educators, which leaves you with almost no time to mess around with cute economics professors.

You've been a bit stressed out all week, so you really weren't planning on spending your Saturday in a busy mall, looking through racks of lingerie, and yet that's exactly what you're doing. Why? Because Jihyo texted you saying she needed your help in buying something sexy to wear on an upcoming date she has with some guy she met at work. His name's Mark and from what she's told you about him, he sounds...promising.

Jihyo, unlike you, is looking for a boyfriend. Boy, is she looking. She's gone on about seven dates with five different men in the past couple of months and she is yet to find her Mr. Right. From what she's told you, she's looking for someone educated, tall, handsome, funny, and someone who can "match her freak". The closest she got to that was some guy she met at a club two months ago, who was lucky enough to get three whole dates before he eventually gave her the ick by referring to his mother as 'mommy'. For her own sanity, you hope Mark won't make that same mistake.

However, Jihyo's mind isn't on Mark right now. Oh no, she's much more focused on the man you're seeing.

"___, come on. We've been best friends since the fifth grade. Are you really going to look me in my eye and tell me you're not seeing anyone? And don't lie to me."

You roll your eyes, scanning the rack of pink satin and red lace, feeling the different fabrics between your fingers. One minute, you were asking her about Mark and how they met, and the next thing you know, you're being interrogated in the middle of a lingerie store.

"I'm not looking you in your eye. I'm looking at lingerie. Ooh, this is pretty."

Jihyo loves you, really, she does. You've known each other for most of your lives. That means she supports you in everything you do. That also means she can see right through your bullshit when no one else can. She's been suspicious of you and your apparent mystery man for a while now, and she won't stop asking you about him until she gets answers.

"I'm serious. I know you're seeing someone. You're not slick, babe. I know you inside and out, and I have really good intuition...and I might have seen a text I shouldn't have when your phone was on the table at the restaurant during lunch."

Dammit.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You feign ignorance, refusing to spill the beans even after practically getting caught. You and Jungkook both swore to keep it between the two of you. It's one of the rules. Who knows what will happen if you just start breaking rules all willy-nilly. Sure, it's not that big of a deal if you tell one friend, especially your best friend, but that's how it starts. You're breaking this rule, and then another and another until you're Robin Thicke and the lines are blurred.

"Cut the shit," Jihyo says dryly, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly unwilling to drop the subject. "Who is this mysterious 'prof jeon' and why was he asking you when you're free to see him?"

You let out a defeated sigh, looking over at her. You know that look on her face. She's just going to keep asking if you don't tell her and it's pointless lying about it. She can be a pain in your ass at times but she's definitely not stupid. And besides, she's your best friend. You'd be a bad best friend for not telling her that you're basically getting the best sex of your life, right?

Screw it.

"Okay, I'm not even supposed to tell anyone about it and it's really not a big deal but...I'm kinda sleeping with one of the other professors at work." You quickly press your lips together as soon as the words leave your mouth, looking back at the lingerie to avoid her eyes and all the questions you know you're about to be bombarded with in a second.

"What?!"

"Can you keep your voice down?" you whisper-yell, noticing a few people turning their heads to see what the sudden outburst was about.

"Sorry," she mutters with a snort, clearly not expecting that news. "Who is this professor? What's his name? Jeon who? Why didn't I know about this sooner? Since when have you-"

You cut her off before she can get the rest of her questions out.

"His name is Jungkook, he teaches economics, and before you ask, no, he's not my boyfriend or anything like that. I'm still not ready for that. We met a few months after I transferred to work at the university and we were just work-friends for the most part, but then we hooked up one night last year and it wasn't really supposed to happen again because we were a bit drunk but it was so good, and then it happened two more times and then...well, then we just agreed to keep having casual sex. That's it."

Jihyo is quiet for a moment, processing the information that was just thrown at her. How have you been sleeping with this man for a year and she had no idea? She's actually quite impressed that you could keep it a secret for that long.

"Wow."

"That's it? That's all you're gonna say?" you chuckle, turning around to look at her with a light blue lacey set in your hands.

"I just...I'm happy for you. I'm glad you're putting yourself out there again after Sunghoon. I really thought you were going to swear off men for the rest of your life after him."

And there it is. The reminder of the man you spent most of your teenage and early adulthood loving, the man who you thought you would grow old with, the bane of your existence. If it's not your friends or your mother reminding you of him, it's your own brain. You don't blame her for bringing him up, though. He is the main reason why you're so opposed to actually committing yourself to someone again.

"Yeah, well...it's not like Jungkook and I are dating or anything. It's just sex. No big deal," you mutter, not wanting to go down that road right now.

Jihyo knows your love life (or lack thereof) is a bit of a sensitive subject for you. She was there for you when Sunghoon broke your heart. She let you stay over at her apartment when you were too sad to be alone. She sat with you as you cried on her bathroom floor, so this is a big deal to her. This means that you don't spend your nights crying over that human shit stain anymore, and she doesn't blame you for keeping it private. All she really wants is for you to be happy.

"Still. It's progress, babe."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"So, uhh... how is he?" She grins, gesturing to her genital area, wanting all the long, girthy, veiny details. She can't help but be a little nosey. Besides, what's the point of having a best friend of almost two decades if you can't ask her about the juicy details of her sex life.

"I'm not telling you that, you pervert," you laugh, holding the lacey lingerie out for her to take. She takes it without even looking at it, her focus solely on you and your professor friend.

"You have to tell me. Okay fine, just give me a number from one to ten then... Looks?"

You sigh but decide to indulge her anyway. "Ten."

"You lucky bitch," she scoffs, looking very impressed. "Skills in the bedroom?"

"Nine point five."

"And you're exclusively hooking up, right?"

You nod.

"Okay, ___, please explain to me why we're in a lingerie store and you're not buying something to make this man drool over you," Jihyo deadpans, looking at you like you're insane.

"Don't be ridiculous, we're not here for me. We're here for you and your date."

"And we're not leaving until we both get something." She starts looking through the racks with more determination. "You said Professor Sexyboots is a ten. You have to wear something sexy for him. At least for my sake."

"Professor Sexyboots? I'm sure he'd love that," you scoff, rolling your eyes at her ridiculous nickname for him.

Jihyo is about to respond when she looks up at something and freezes, her eyes widening, causing you to turn your head to follow her line of sight, your eyebrows raising. On one of the mannequins sits a stunning deep-red bra and matching thong, looking like something straight off a Victoria's Secret runway. It's gorgeous, with intricate lace detailing, and it's completely out of your comfort zone.

"No way, I can't."

"What are you talking about?! You'd look so hot. C'mon, it would be so fun. You could send him a little sneak peek and invite him over and he can take it off with his teeth," she snickers, having way too much fun with this whole thing.

You're not sure how exactly you let Jihyo convince you to buy the skimpy lingerie, but you did, which is why you're sitting in a rather suggestive pose in front of your floor-length mirror in your bedroom. It's silly to feel nervous about sending him a naughty photo. He's seen you naked more times in this past year than you can count, and yet this makes you nervous.

You take the photo and press send before quickly tossing your phone on the bed, letting out a deep sigh.

Jungkook is in the middle of watching some random show on Natural Geographic when he gets your text. He unlocks his phone and all the air gets knocked out of his lungs when his eyes land on the photo of you wrapped in the delicate dark red lace, muttering a breathless, "Sweet baby Jesus".

His fingers shake as he types out a reply, his heart hammering in his chest.

prof jeon [9:46pm]: i've never really been a very religious man prof jeon [9:46pm]: but damn, god is good 😳

You [9:47pm]: LMAO You [9:47pm]: come over

prof jeon [9:48pm]: aye-aye captain 🫡

He rushes to his room to get a hoodie, quickly putting it on while getting a confused look from a half-asleep Bam. He walks over to give the sleepy dog a quick kiss on his forehead and some scratches before getting his car keys, his body working faster than his brain. “Bam, daddy’s gotta go take care of aunty ___, okay? I’ll be back later.” And with that, he’s out the door.

He makes his way downstairs to the parking lot and gets in his car, fumbling with the car keys in a rush to get to your apartment. He knows he probably looks like a teenage virgin right now, but he doesn't care. You always manage to make his midsection tingle and his brain feel all scattered. When he finally manages to get the car started, it takes everything in him to stay within the speed limit as he drives over to you.

You're about to text him to ask how far he is from your apartment, when there's a knock at the front door. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer the door, seeing a breathless Jungkook leaning his arm up against the wall in the hallway.

"Good evening, Professor," he grins, straightening up to walk inside, eyeing you from head to toe as you close the door behind him. Before you can get a chance to respond, his lips are on yours, his hands cradling your jaw as he kisses you, completely taking you by surprise.

You pull away to look up at him with wide eyes, letting out a little chuckle. "So just straight to the point? No small talk, nothing?"

"Is that what you want?" he asks, looking down at your robe-clad body. "Small talk? Want me to ask you how your day was before I spread your legs?"

"Not really, no."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he mutters before his lips are back on yours. He picks you up by the back of your thighs in one swift motion, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you to your bedroom, eager to get that damn robe off.

He gets to the bedroom and gently lays you down on your back before hurriedly removing his glasses, pulling his hoodie over his head, his t-shirt following quickly behind. He leans down to hover over you, his lips kissing from your neck up to your lips, sensually licking into your mouth to taste more of you while his fingers trail up your thigh under the robe.

He pulls back to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his fingers slowly opening your robe. "Can I take this off?"

You nod and your robe is off within seconds, leaving you in nothing but the skimpy lingerie. His throat goes completely dry. "Fuck. You're trying to give me an asthma attack."

"You don't have asthma," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"The point is that you're fucking hot, ___."

You scoff and pull him back down to crash your lips onto his, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. Your hands lightly travel up his biceps and shoulders, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. You slide your fingers through his hair and give it a little tug, pulling a soft moan from his lips. He loves when you play with his hair, and he especially loves when you tug on it, whether it's while he's kissing you or eating you out.

You pull away slightly to press a few light pecks to his lips, his stomach erupting with butterflies. "You're so good at that," he mutters, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

"At what, kissing?"

"Mm," he hums with a lazy little grin on his face. "Might need you to demonstrate again, just to make sure."

You laugh, placing another kiss to his lips, lingering there for a bit before pulling away.

"Mm, one more," he whispers before his mouth is back on yours, his tongue tangling with yours as the kiss grows more heated.

He reluctantly breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses on your skin.

He nips at your pulse point, his teeth leaving a little red spot on your flesh.

"Jungkook, I'm going to kill you if there's a mark," you mutter, but the huff of laughter he lets out tells you he doesn't care.

"You'll be fine," he chuckles, his voice hoarse with desire, his tongue tracing the mark he left behind. He leans on one hand while the other slowly trails up the side of your ribs, making its way to the back of your bra.

"This is so pretty," he whispers, giving your earlobe a little tug with his teeth. "Can I take it off yet?"

"Mhm," you nod, slightly arching your back off the bed to let him unclasp the bra. He slowly slides the fabric off your body and tosses it aside, kissing his way down to your breasts. He licks and sucks on each of your nipples before trailing slow, soft kisses down your stomach.

"Lift your hips for me, baby." You do as he says, his fingers hooking into the sides of the tiny lace thong, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs.

You spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening folds. The sight alone makes his sweatpants feel tighter. He kneels down at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs further apart. He kisses his way up your leg from your calf to your inner thigh, holding your ankle over his broad shoulder.

His lips inch even closer to your pussy, just a few centimeters from where you need him most. "Jungkook," you whine, your arousal growing by the second.

He chuckles teasingly, stopping at your inner thigh. "You're so whiny."

"Don't tease, Kook."

He grins, hovering his mouth over your pussy, his breath fanning over your folds. "Love seeing you all worked up for me," he murmurs, slowly licking his lips before pressing a feather-like kiss to your mound.

"Just shut up and eat me out."

"Yes, ma'am."

He starts slow with wet little kisses and licks to your clit, slowly building up a steady pace. He loves eating you out. He could go for hours if you let him, like a starved man getting a taste of his favourite food. Jungkook's always been more of a giver than a taker, your pleasure bringing him pleasure.

He's incredibly skilled with his tongue, knowing exactly what to do to have your legs trembling. He swirls and flicks his tongue, sucking and lapping at your clit to make your eyes roll back in your head.

"Fuck, Jungkook...feels so good," you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut.

He smiles against your pussy, feeling proud of every little sigh and moan he pulls from your lips. "You taste so good," he mutters before diving back in, licking a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them open.

"Just like that...oh my god, don't stop..."

He looks up at you with a dazed look in his eyes, his tongue lapping at you with skilled precision that makes your toes curl, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

"F-fuck, 'm gonna cum," you gasp, grabbing onto his hair to hold him in place, your eyes squeezing shut, your head spinning as the pleasure reaches a peak.

A few more sucks and flicks of his tongue and you're cumming, his hands holding you in place as he laps at your pussy, helping you ride out your high. He feels your thighs quivering, looking quite proud of himself. "You taste so fucking good," he murmurs, pressing a few soft kisses to your clit.

"Holy shit." You're breathless, your pussy pulsating, your heart racing.

He crawls up to hover over you, giving your lips a quick peck, his lips and chin glistening. "Still with me?"

"Mhmm," you grin, slowly opening your eyes to look up at him.

He smiles down at you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair, your pretty eyes. He gently brushes some of your hair out of your face, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. "You're beautiful, ___," he whispers, his voice laced with tenderness.

"Don't say that."

He furrows his brows in confusion, puzzled by your reaction. "Why not? It's the truth."

"Tell me I'm sexy...not beautiful."

He chuckles, slowly shaking his head, his expression filled with amusement and affection. "You're gorgeous," he whispers, lightly kissing your cheek, his lips trailing over to your ear. "And incredibly sexy."

"You gonna fuck me now?" You tease, your lips curling into a soft smile.

He almost laughs at your bluntness, the way you just get straight to the point, never wasting any time if you want something. Your assertiveness has always been a turn-on for him, not just in the bedroom, but in general.

"That's the plan, yeah."

"Let's get this show on the road then."

He gets up off you and removes his sweatpants and boxers, letting it lay somewhere on your bedroom floor. He's already hard, his cock standing tall, the tip already leaking a bit. He stands at the end of your bed, his hand wrapped around the base, his eyes glued between your legs, slowly trailing up to your face.

He crawls back on top of you, sliding his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and rubbing it over the head of his cock. "Ready, baby?"

You give him a nod and he slowly pushes into you, his hips gently moving forward. "Shit, you feel good," he groans, his voice coming out low and hoarse.

You sharply inhale through your nose, feeling that familiar stretch, your walls molding to the shape of him like it was made for him.

He thrusts slowly, bracing his forearms on either side of your head, his forehead resting against yours. His thrusts get deeper until he bottoms out, his breathing growing heavier, his moans going straight to your core. He buries his face in your neck, feeling your hands gripping the muscles in his back as he thrusts harder.

Your moans grow louder as he thrusts into you, your walls fluttering around him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Fuck, that feels so good."

"Yeah? You like that, baby?" he grins, pressing wet kisses to your neck and chest.

You've never had a man make you feel the way Jungkook does. He knows exactly how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to have you like putty in his hands. Your skin heats up, your heart pounding faster as he picks up the pace, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your back arch off the bed.

"Mmm, f-fuck...harder...h-harder, baby," you moan, feeling him lift one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside you, the new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper.

"Like that?" He grunts, sitting back on his knees, his thrusts hitting harder, his pace getting faster.

"Oh my god, right there...feels s-so good, Kook."

"Wanna cum again?"

You can barely form a coherent sentence anymore. Your moans mixed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills your bedroom, his thrusts making your pussy squelch.

"Use your words, baby."

"Wanna...wanna cum," you whine, feeling him hold your leg next to his head and press wet kisses to your ankle and calf, the pressure and pace of his thrusts feeling just right.

"Hold it." His voice is rough and demanding, a stark contrast to the gentle tone he usually uses with you outside of the bedroom, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

He ignores your whines and pleas for him to let you cum, thrusting as deep as he can go, his free hand reaching down to push his thumb into your mouth. Your body works on autopilot, sucking on his thumb. You swirl your tongue around it like you would do to his cock, causing his hips to stutter before he regains his composure.

"Such a good girl for me. Gonna make you cum so hard, baby."

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth to rub firm circles over your clit, the pressure paired with his thrusts making your head spin. The pressure starts to build in your lower stomach, and it feels different, better than it usually does, your pussy clenching down harder around his cock.

"Feels...f-feels like I'm gonna...p-pee..."

He lets out a faint chuckle, his hips moving with determination. "You're not gonna pee, baby," he mutters, his tone sounding almost teasing.

"H-how do you know?"

"Trust me, baby, I know. You're not gonna pee." He can tell you're close, your body practically begging for release as he rubs your clit faster. He looks down to where your bodies connect, seeing how swollen and puffy your pussy looks, the sight making his cock twitch. "It's gonna feel so good, baby, I promise."

"Gonna...gonna cum-"

"I know, baby. Let go for me...let it all out."

You cum with a loud cry, your body convulsing beneath him, your vision going blank as the pleasure hits you. It feels relentless, like nothing you've ever felt before, and he's made you cum many times before.

"Fuck, that's my girl." His thrusts slow down but they don't stop, keeping his pace steady to help you through it. "That's it, baby...ride it out..."

Your body trembles as you come down from your high, barely able to register him pulling out. Your eyes are half open as you watch him stroke himself above you, his face contorting in pleasure, his abdomen tensing. He finishes with a guttural moan of your name, painting your stomach and breasts with warm strings of cum.

"Fuck. I think I just saw Jesus," he breathes out, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.

"Yeah? What did he tell you?" You chuckle breathlessly, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"He said you squirted."

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head, looking down to find his lower stomach and pelvis drenched.

"Oh my god," you groan, your words muffled by your hands as you cover your face.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. It was probably the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he murmurs with a faint chuckle, gently pulling your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at him, his face looking rather smug.

"You look very pleased with yourself."

"Can you blame me? I made you feel so good, you practically exploded all over me," he grins, looking down at the mess between your legs. "Ohh, she's so swollen now. She took a bit of a beating, huh?"

You let out bashful scoff, your cheeks heating up at his choice of words.

He quickly gets up to go and clean himself off in the bathroom, coming back to slip his boxers back on. He watches you slowly get up off the messy bed, your knees feeling weak as you clumsily walk off to the bathroom, needing a hot shower after that intense session. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he watches you stumble.

"Legs a little wobbly there?" he teases, unable to stop the amused smile from spreading across his face.

"Shut up," you mutter as you make your way to the bathroom, earning a little laugh from him.

While you're in the shower, he takes it upon himself to remove the dirty covers and sheets from your bed, looking for your lavender room-spray on your vanity. He knows you always spray it around the room after sex, and he knows you keep it on your vanity, but for some reason he can't find it there. What he does find, however, is a framed photo he's never seen before. You're in it, and it looks like it was taken on the day of your undergrad graduation ceremony. You're standing next to a younger-looking girl, whose face is quite similar to yours. She is just slightly taller with shorter hair. Jungkook doesn't know much, or rather anything, about your family, but he assumes the girl in the photo is your sister.

He picks up the frame and goes to sit down on the bed, inspecting it closely. He feels a bit guilty, like he's been caught red-handed for snooping when you come out the bathroom wrapped in your robe, your eyes landing on the frame in his hands.

"What're you doing?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, his eyes growing wide, feeling like a child that's been caught stealing. "I just...I was looking for your room spray...or mist, whatever it is, and... I, uhm, I don't know, I guess this just caught my eye. I've been here many times but I've never really looked around, y'know?"

You nod slowly, going to sit next to him at the edge of the bed.

"Is this...your sister?"

You look up at him, seeing the surprise on his face.

You and Jungkook have sex. You work at the same university. You're "work-friends" and that surprise on his face is a reminder of how little he truly knows about you, how little of yourself you actually share with him. He knows you have a cat, but he doesn't know you have a sister. He knows the way you take your coffee, but he doesn't know anything about your childhood. It's a stark contrast to how much you know about him. You know his favourite foods because he's very specific about where he gets his takeout from. You know his favourite brand of beer because he always has it stocked up in his fridge. You know all about his family dynamics because he speaks about them all the time, that his brother just had a baby, that her name is Mijoo. You know all of his hobbies and interests because you're quite observant and he's very open, never feeling the need to keep anything to himself. You're similar in some aspects of your personalities, and yet very different.

"Yeah, that's my sister, Yuna," you murmur softly, looking down at the photo with a tight-lipped smile.

He absorbs this new information, a mix of feelings swirling inside him. Part of him feels slightly hurt. Four years of knowing each other and a year of hooking up, and he's only just found out you have a sister. He's an open book, always sharing all these intimate details about himself with you, yet you keep so many parts of yourself hidden from him. He wonders if it's just in your nature or if you deliberately keep him at arm's length, preventing him from getting too close.

At the same time, a small spark of hope lights up within him. You're not completely shutting him down so that's good. Maybe this is a sign that you're actually opening up to him for once. It might seem minor, but he takes it as a huge step forward with you.

He has a million questions he wants to ask, but settles for, "What's she like?"

There's a beat of silence before you speak. "She's, uhm...she's three years younger than me, and she's probably the most extroverted person you'll ever meet, so we're...very different," you scoff, smiling fondly at the thought of your baby sister.

He listens intently as you talk about your sister. He wants nothing more than for you to let your guard down with him, and this is a start. It's small, but it's something.

"That must make for an interesting sibling dynamic, hm?"

"We actually get along great in spite of that. We grew up super close, so..." You speak softly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with showing even just a hint of vulnerability in front of him. "So, yeah. Now you know that about me."

"Yeah," he murmurs softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Now I know."

You gently take the frame from his hands and walk over to your vanity, putting it back in its place. You pick up the lavender room spray and turn to him with a faint smile. "This what you were looking for?"

"There's the damn thing," he scoffs, the familiar scent filling his nose as you give the room a spritz. "Is that to get rid of the smell of me?"

You chuckle, but you don't deny it.

The room falls silent again, and he takes it as his cue to get out of your hair, seeing as it's already midnight and he doesn't want to push his luck.

"I should, uh...I should go. It's late and I don't wanna keep you out of your beauty sleep," he jokes, slowly getting up to put his clothes back on.

"I'll walk you out." He wishes, just once, that you would ask him to stay, but he knows you won't. He walks behind you, stopping at the front door. He so badly wants to reach out and take your face in his hands, to kiss your lips and ask you to let him spend the night with you, but when you open the door for him, he simply puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and walks out into the hallway.

"Thanks for tonight," he mumbles, looking down at you with a soft look in his eyes. "It was fun."

"Yeah, it was," you smile, tilting your head to lean against the half-open door.

He just looks at you, not making a move to leave. He has so much he wants to say right now, but he swallows it down, just like he always does, not wanting to overstep.

"Well...goodnight."

"Night, Jungkook."

He takes a small step back, reluctantly turning to leave. "Goodnight, ___," he mumbles, looking back at you with a soft smile.

You chuckle, sensing his reluctance to leave. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

He turns and starts walking away, his feet feeling heavier with each step. Just as he's about to make a U-turn and walk back to you, he hears the soft click of your door shutting, the lock echoing in the empty hallway.

He sighs and walks over to the elevators, going down to his car. He mentally kicks himself for feeling so disappointed. He's always known that you keep yourself guarded, and he thought he could handle it, could play by your rules, could be content with a primarily physical relationship. He could before. But right now, sitting in his car in the silent parking lot, he's reminded of how weak he really is.

He leans his forehead forward against the steering wheel, the weight of his feelings sitting heavy in his chest, muttering a soft, "Fuck."

With a heavy sigh, he starts the car and drives home, his brain taunting him with the fact that romance isn't a possibility for you and him.

On Monday, Jungkook is back in work mode. He tries to squeeze in as many revision lectures as he can the closer it gets to final exams. It's around 3pm when he finally gets a breather, so he goes to his usual spot for lunch.

He sits in the empty lounge, like he does almost every day. Why this specific lounge? Because if he looks out the window, he has a perfect view of you sitting below, eating your lunch on your usual bench. Sometimes you're alone, sometimes you're with another lecturer, and on rare days you just have lunch in your office.

"There you are." He hears Taehyung's voice as he walks into the lounge, sitting down across from him with a huff. "You weren't answering your phone."

Jungkook doesn't respond, his eyes not wavering. He looks out the window with a dopey look on his face, watching you eat your gimbap. Taehyung follows his line of sight, catching on rather quickly.

"So... you taking an online course on how to be a stalker, or...?"

"What are you talking about?" He scoffs, looking over at Taehyung before his eyes inevitably drift back down to you.

"You're staring like a creep," Taehyung laughs, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Is she that professor I saw you talking to the other day?"

"Mm." Jungkook knows how nosey his best friend can be, and he knows exactly what's going on in that head of his.

Taehyung gives him a knowing smile. He doesn't even have to say much, already knowing it's only a matter of time before Jungkook spills.

"You have a thing for her, huh?"

Jungkook looks at him with wide eyes, feeling exposed without even confessing anything. "What? I didn't even say anythi-"

"Don't bother," Taehyung chuckles, "You're not very subtle, man. Your eyes give you away."

Jungkook feels his cheeks burn, knowing he's been caught. He hates how transparent he is, that his feelings are written all over his face. "Fine. But it's not a big deal."

Taehyung gives him a look that says, 'You sure about that?'

Jungkook looks at his friend, then down at his lap, twiddling his thumbs. There's a long silence before the word-vomit eventually spills out of him.

"We've been having sex for a year and it was just casual at first, well...it still is casual, and we set a few rules so that there's still boundaries between us, but then I started developing feelings and she's just so guarded, like, she won't open up to me and I know that if she finds out I have feelings for her, she'll pull away and it'll ruin everything," he rambles, the words tumbling out like he's been dying to tell someone. He knows it was supposed to stay between the two of you, but he trusts Taehyung implicitly and he knows his friend would never judge him or the situation.

Taehyung looks at him with raised eyebrows, listening to him ramble on about the whole situation, trying to wrap his head around it. He knows how much of a softie Jungkook is and he never thought he would ever hear him say he has a friend with benefits.

"Damn, dude...you look like you needed to get that off your chest."

"I guess I did, yeah," Jungkook murmurs with a little scoff.

"Okay, so, she explicitly told you she's not interested in you romantically?"

"Well, no, she didn't say it directly, but she doesn't have to," Jungkook sighs. "She's made it clear more than once that she's not looking for anything serious from me."

"Damn," Taehyung murmurs, his face full of sympathy. "Has she said why?"

Jungkook looks back out the window, looking down at you with a melancholy expression on his face. "I know it's something to do with her ex, but she won't tell me the full story, so I don't really know what happened. I know she's been hurt before and she's wary of it happening again. I know she's not ready for anything serious, and I respect that. It's just..."

"You thought it would be enough for you?" Taehyung asks softly, carefully.

"Yeah."

"But it's not?"

"Would it make me an awful, selfish person if I said it's not?"

"No," Taehyung says firmly, a soft smile forming on his face. "It would make you a human being with a soft heart and strong feelings."

Jungkook scoffs, feeling guilty for simply thinking of being with you in a romantic sense. He knows you've been through some hard things in the past, and all he wants is a chance to prove himself to you.

"Do you want to tell her how you feel about her?"

"I don't know," Jungkook mutters, a slight pout forming on his lips. "I keep going back and forth about it in my head. Part of me wants to tell her and lay all my cards out on the table for her...another part of me is scared of pushing her away even further."

Taehyung goes silent for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. "Is the sex good?"

Jungkook narrows his eyes at his friend. "You have the worst timing."

Taehyung chuckles, shrugging like he just couldn't help but ask.

Jungkook rolls his eyes but gives in, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's...it's really good. Probably the best sex I've ever had, if I'm being real."

"Wow," Taehyung scoffs, his eyes wide. "I'd say you should wife her but...y'know..."

Jungkook gives him a dirty look, once again getting a slap from reality, Taehyung subtly wincing at his friend's misfortune.

"Look, I want to say screw her and it's her loss because you're a fuckin’ catch...but I mean, I get that she's just being cautious because of whatever happened with her ex."

Jungkook sighs, nodding slowly.

"Yeah. I just wish I could prove to her that I would never hurt her, that I would respect her and treat her right." Jungkook mentally curses your ex for screwing things up for him. He just wants a fair shot with you. "She's such a beautiful woman and she doesn't even see it."

Taehyung nods, looking out at you through the window. "Yeah, she's very attractive."

"No, I mean, she's stunning, but...the way she speaks, the way she acts, the person she is...she's just so beautiful. I want her for so much more than her physical being," Jungkook murmurs softly, his heart yearning to show you just how lovely he thinks you are.

"Honestly, I think the best thing you can do for her is be her friend if that's all she needs for the time being and slowly try to bring down her walls little by little. And if that doesn't work, then I think you should keep your options open. I know this sucks, dude, but you have to think of yourself too. You can't try to mend her while breaking yourself."

Taehyung is a wise man, and Jungkook trusts his judgement. He teaches literature, for crying out loud. He reads Shakespeare for a living. He should be well versed in these things.

"Yeah," Jungkook nods, taking in Taehyung's advice. "I guess you're right, Tae. Thanks for listening to all my crap."

"Hey, you're my best friend. No sweat." He goes quiet before casually asking, "So, do you think she has a friend for m-"

"Tae-"

"Wrong time, my bad."

< Part 2 || Part 4 >

[izicodes]

do you have any advice for someone who kinda "failed" to break into tech and is still in the medium-level for learning. i feel like i've spent so much time (years) on this but haven't made much progress. how do i really get into it and stay in it? love your blog btw. i'm tempted to start one of my own but my projects are a mess and ugly 😭

I'm sorry to hear that you feel like you haven't made much progress in breaking into tech. It's important to remember that everyone's journey is different, and it's never too late to start or improve. But then again, you have spent years learning and you want to into the tech industry.

The obvious advice would be don't give up. My dad has been studying to get into Cybersecurity since the early 90s and he just got into the industry this year. He never gave up - family to look after and he could study like the other students in his university course because the large majority of them were single 18-22-year-olds who their only responsibility is themselves. Don't give up and don't compare yourself to other people.

You've got to look at what has been holding you back. Health issues, work issues, money? Can't study full-time or even part-time if you need to pay the bills.

Even if you can, are you consistent with your studying? We all know consistency is key. Studying for one week but don't study for 2-3 weeks won't work. I know the type of learner I am - if I don't code or study every day, even just for 30 minutes, then my tendency to procrastinate will increase a lot and it'll all go downhill from there.

Know your strength - build on the skills you are good at. Believe it or not, I know a developer I met in a discord server who only uses HTML, CSS, and JavaScript to build websites and webpage themes for clients as a freelancer and he's doing really well. It's because he realised that he's really good at those three basic languages and he worked really hard to excel at them. Expand on what you know best.

On the flip side, you could look at job postings around where you live or nationally in your country and see what skills/languages/technologies they ask for the most for hiring developers. Example: I live in the UK and a couple of months ago when I was actively looking for a new Frontend Dev job, I saw that Vue.js, React.js, and PHP (besides the usual HTML, CSS, and JavaScript) were asked for the most. If I wanted those jobs, I would learn those technologies, create a few projects to showcase my knowledge in them, and start applying. That could be one way to break into the industry.

Another way would be certificated. Bootcamps, online courses, or in-person courses like university or community colleges. Yes, they say that you don't always need a university degree to get into tech but some kind of education you've gone through that is tech-related e.g. Google courses or the Frontend Dev course that Meta is providing (paid). My colleague completed a computer science degree but he then did a bootcamp and he completed and that's how he landed the job where I work. So even graduates are getting further education. If you can't afford the massive fees, Udemy is a great place to get courses. And don't be shy with the Havard CS50 course videos they have on YouTube - free and you get a certificate free as well!

The advice I give might not work if you haven't identified why after all these years you haven't gotten your foot into the tech industry. This is no way intended to be rude, but if another person who had the same amount of time you studied, and they have gotten a tech job in that time, what makes you different? Goes back to what I said about the things that are holding you back. Some of the reasons are inevitable like health but you need to keep making that effort!

If you need help, you need to ask. Find a mentor or support group. Having someone to guide and encourage you can be incredibly helpful. Look for a mentor or join a support group where you can connect with others who are also learning and growing in tech. You can search for them online, some people offer advice for CV/Resume help or real "getting into tech" advice on places like Fiverr or Upwork or just google for some consultants online. They would cost obviously but if you're really struggling, this might help. After completing bootcamps, they tend to help you get your first job etc so they might be worth considering!

The last bit of advice is do you have a portfolio? No no, like a proper one where you feel confident enough to give to family members, friends, and potential employers? No? Either learn to build one (free of charge) or hire someone to build it for you (costs money) A portfolio is a great way to showcase your skills and projects to potential employers. Even if your projects feel messy or ugly, focus on highlighting what you learned and what you accomplished.

Obviously, I gave hints of advice more towards Frontend Dev because that's what I know more of but you can alter the advice to whatever niche in programming you're into. Remember, breaking into any field takes time and effort. Stay motivated and focused on your goals, and don't be afraid to reach out for help or support when you need it. Good luck!

** I'm not the best at giving advice but I hope this helps 💗

[thatseventiesbitch]

Hi! I hope this isn’t too weird. I know you work with high school students, so you might be able to help. Do you have any tips to get motivated? I find myself struggling to do my assignments— even the easy ones that take less than an hour.

Thank you for helping if you see/answer this.

Hello! No problem. I am happy to put on my school counselor hat for a moment. 🤠

First, my dear - you need discipline, not motivation. And do not feel bad - you're not the only one who struggles with task initiation and/or procrastination. It's highly, highly common - even in adults. That's why building skills and habits that work for you now, as a high schooler, will serve you well.

A few tips/tricks I go over with my students:

If you have long-term projects or assignments, map out mini-deadlines for yourself along the way so it doesn't feel as overwhelming and you don't ever get into a situation where you have to like, write a 20 page paper in one afternoon (i.e. I'll write the introduction paragraph today, have the first two body paragraphs done by Tuesday, then add the conclusion on Thursday, then review the essay before I turn it in on Friday)

When you sit down to work on a task you don't like (i.e. math homework) give yourself a chunk of time - for instance, I will work on this for an hour and a half. When the hour and a half is up, I will [be finished for the day/take a brain break/move on to a different task]. Give it your all for the time you've dedicated to the task, and then when the timer is up, let yourself walk away even if it is not complete. You can come back and do more tomorrow. (The kicker is that a lot of the time you are so close to finishing anyway, that you just decide to wrap it up.)

Take brain breaks! Breaks between tasks. It's important to get up, physically move around, and to look away from the computer screen/notebook/textbook you've been so intensely concentrating on. Take care of your human needs. Do a little high energy dance party. Pet an animal. Get outside. Although sometimes my brain breaks end up being permission to scroll the internet/tumblr/reddit/tik-tok/what-have-you for ten minutes before I get back to the grind.

Do what you can to make study time/your study space feel welcoming/inviting/a place you want to be. For some kids, studying with a friend in a coffee shop all afternoon is what works. Some need to be alone, but like to have certain music/podcast playing or a certain snack they only get for themselves when they study. I've even had some kids tell me they like to scroll through, like, study blogs/study aesthetics to get them in the right mindset before they start.

If you don't already, use some sort of an assignment notebook or write out the list of assignments you have to complete. Put a checkbox next to each one, and cross it off when you complete it. Sounds silly/minor, but your brain gets a little shot of dopamine each time you do, and that feeling is exactly what will keep you going!

Additionally, I like to share this story from one of my favorite books of all time - Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott:

"Thirty years ago, my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he'd had three months to write. It was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird."

To this day, this is the phrase I tell myself when I feel overwhelmed and/or immobilized by the task in front of me - "Okay, let's take it bird by bird." Aka, just start. Aka, one thing at a damn time. Aka, the only way forward is forward.

[evilichu]

it's been a really long time since the last time i posted anything on this blog. like, really long. 2023 i think. maybe i should do an update but i have other things in my mind right now and i need to write them down just to clear my head.

topics -- self esteem issues, my relationship, college.

self esteem issues: i have let myself go. i don't even know what to say other than that. i'm very aware that i have a troubled relationship with food and weight in general, but it's been hitting me really hard lately; not because i've been restricting but the opposite. since i'm stressed i look for comfort in food and i can feel my belly growing bigger and my clothes feeling smaller. i'm getting so much fatter and i can barely look at myself in the mirror anymore. it's so fucking disgusting. but i can't stop eating, it's all i ever do. it's just so comforting, until i'm done eating and the realizations sets in and i wanna die. it's affecting my social anxiety as well, since i feel disgusting and look disgusting i obviously don't want anyone to see how bad i look. anytime i'm out i'm sure everyone can tell that i look a lot fatter than i used to and that i'm disgusting. i don't even wanna weigh myself in fear of the numbers that it might show me. god. anyway. that's topic one.

my relationship: my ex and i got back together. maybe some day i'll make a whole post about it but for now that's it. my attachment issues have resurrected because of it. i don't wanna blame the relationship in itself, but i did feel a shift in my mental health as soon as we went back together. we've been together almost a month now and things changed rather quickly. as time goes on he is getting more and more used to being with me and he's becoming less romantic. i'm aware that relationships lowkey work like that, you get used to the person but it doesn't mean you love them less. but i'm not like that at all, i think. i think about him all the fucking time even after a month and i wanna tell him i love him all the time and how pretty he is and all of that, and the only thing stopping me is that i think it would annoy him. i feel like it's unfair in some way, he started being so sweet and attentive with me and making me feel loved just to drop the act in like two weeks and now i can't even complain cuz he is "too busy". weren't you "too busy" two weeks ago too? it's not like you got a new job or promotion, you're doing the same thing but two weeks ago you'd take a minute to text me how much you miss me and now you simply don't. AND I KNOW! I KNOW THIS IS SUCH A NON-ISSUE! but that's what i mean, the attachment issues. if i wasn't so emotionally invested in every single little thing, if my entire mood didn't depend on three words written in a message app, then i would be absolutely fine. but i care, i care so fucking much and i feel so abandoned all the time. and i've been crying so much. and i'm putting too much pressure on him and i can't stop thinking that he's gonna dump me any day now. which, fair enough, but I CANNOT STOP. ugh.

college: i'm in college now and i'm a failure. i had never expected to be this bad at studying and it's affecting my pride so much. i can't focus for shit and i procrastinate so much it's embarrassing. i don't even know why i thought i could do this. i have my first real exam tomorrow and i am not ready at all and i can't study. i don't know what am i going to do. it's crazy.

i've been so angry at myself for all of these reasons that i am genuinely thinking of cutting again. i just can't take it. i don't wanna disappoint anyone, least of all my therapist (the only person i wouldn't be able to lie to) but i don't know what to do. i am so fucking angry that i can't do anything right and i'm fucking my own life up: my weight, my relationship, my career, i can't do it right. i feel like i do deserve the punishment.

but you know, that's my mental health for you.

[100dayproductivity]

9/100.

So here's a new thing I'm going to try. I'm going to revisit every post from my first round of 100 days and delete each one as I process them. Firstly, because I think it's a good idea to go back and review your past self and the progress (if any) you've made. Maybe there are some useful insights to be gained. Secondly, because the posts in this blog are mainly a type of to-do list that served their purpose in the moment and do not need to live on forever on the Internet.

I've already deleted my very first post in which I introduced myself (middle-aged single mother of two; hi, nice to meet you, welcome to my 100 Days of Productivity blog) and stream-of-consciousness listed out what to-dos were on my mind. I reiterated the two main to-dos more concisely the following day on my first 1/100 day post. Here's a screenshot:

So, that first item, patching up the wall behind the fridge? It's been about 9 months or so since I wrote that post and the wall still hasn't been patched up. Why not? Clearly there are obstacles. What are the obstacles? Well, the first obstacle is the patching up part. I need that putty stuff for patching up drywall. I had some in the basement but I looked for it last night and couldn't find it. I think I threw it out some time ago because it was all dried up. I seem to recall asking in my local Buy Nothing group if anyone had some all those months ago but no one did. I'm loathe to buy an entire container of the stuff to only have to use a tiny bit and then have to eventually throw an almost full container out again when it inevitably dries up. I'm a slave to my aversion to contributing to frivolous waste. I think people seem to think it's about the money (even I think that sometimes) but it's deeper than that. What it comes down to is climate anxiety. The holes in my drywall behind my fridge where I removed an overhead cabinet gives me climate anxiety 🤔

Um... Maybe I should just stop into the hardware store today. I need lightbulbs too anyway.

Next, some insights.

Firstly, the healthy and nourishing food. Jesus, that comes up a lot! Clearly I don't think my diet is very good. We will revisit this.

Secondly, I was complaining about tight hamstrings 9-ish months ago! And now I'm suffering from plantar fasciitis! Related? Absolutely! I ignored my body telling me that it needed some care and attention so it started complaining more loudly so I couldn't ignore it anymore. Lesson: listen to your body, don't ignore it!

Final screenshot:

"I don't know why I struggle so much with this..." Well, I still don't know, lol. I have begun to wonder whether I have ADHD? I don't really know much about it but I keep seeing memes and adverts that I find relatable and make me go 🤔 "One really productive day and procrastinate for three..." I feel like I definitely have highs and lows of energy. I'm trying to figure out how to work with my energy highs and lows. Almost like a surfer trying to catch a wave. This is still a work in progress. 🏄

So that's my rehashing of my first round of Day 1/100.

Now, for my running to do list. I'm adding a new to-do right at the top. Actually, adding two:

To-do:

Pick up polyfill and light bulbs at hardware store.

Look up "best hamstring stretches".

Take bed cover out of dryer. ✓

Deposit cheque. ✓

Pick up paint primer. ✓

Pick up produce, bread, milk, butter, sandwich stuff. ✓

Recurring:

Do hamstring stretches.

Roll out knots in leg muscle.

Do Sun Salutation x10

Take inhaler

I managed to do four Sun Salutations yesterday. I think maybe 10 is too ambitious?

What's on your list today?

[co-reborn]

Hello People

Hihi. Happy Lunar New Year to everyone!!! insert traditional greetings here, insert chinese songs here blah blah. 

On to the main topic of this message.

For the next few months, I will be much busier than I have been. Why? Well, the other writers mostly know but I’m not gonna reveal it on the blog. So don’t pry further. Anyways, my already slow output will be further reduced and asks will be answered much more infrequently (not like I get that many to begin with) and stuff. I don’t intend to retire but I hope my circumstances doesn’t force me to. So yeah, don’t unfollow me because of my inactivity.

With that out of the way, I have much more minor stuff I want to address which will be under a “read more” line. tl;dr: my drafts lists, some minor theme changes, anons and idol list

Drafts List (as of 1 Feb 2022)

CO3

Lust Potion

Is Three A Crowd?

Initiation 3*

SB2**

YB2

Some other collabs that are basically at 0 progress and not a priority for both us writers

It took me more than a month between Obedience (3) and Bust or Bust and given my upcoming schedule, it could be an even longer wait for any of these to be posted. Unless BFH happens of course. 

In the meanwhile, I have two quickies queued up for the future so that it doesn’t seem like I’ve been missing for too long. I don’t have any other backlog of fics ready so you’ll probably feel my absence after that. 

*With regards to this fic, I have actually gotten to writing it a long time ago and am like 80% done. I got distracted with other drafts and haven’t returned to complete it. Also, the draft feels like it’s lacking in many aspects that needs to be heavily edited and the (semi) perfectionist in me is procrastinating into finishing it.

**So I do apologise to all my followers from the very start that read the first rendition of SB and YB over on Wattpad. I do want to get to them, but many more ideas do come to mind that I want to get to before the inspiration fades. Fun fact (I guess): SB2 was going to be written a while back (where i started a draft for it and am a few paragraphs in). However, I was sent a picture of Uniform Mina by sins and you guys got Obedience instead and it snowballed from there. My main issue with continuing the two series is that I was highlighted some fundamental issues with my fic that I want to rectify, which makes planning it even harder. I do have the base idea in my mind already, it’s just a matter of writing it.

Blog Theme

So over the past few months, I have made several changes to my Tumblr Blog theme (which can only be viewed on the website version and not the app) with the coding hard-carried by BNS. The main big things that were added is a light/dark mode toggle and an easier to navigate masterlist (see images below) The light/dark mode toggle is on dark mode by default but feel free to change it to light mode (you monsters) and my masterlist looks like wikipedia now lol but given my many series and slowly increasing number of fics, I think it would be more useful in the long run. The “Latest Works” section definitely needs more work but I’m slowly improving that. I might add the table of contents to my Pics & Gifs collection in the future.

Anonymous Asks

So due to the number of ruder anons in our community, more and more writers have turned off anonymous asks. I don’t want to do that because I want to believe in the nicer anons. Starting from now, I will not hesitate to block the ruder anons. I am dense as fuck and I don’t know what tone you intended to use, so if it’s a sarcastic ask, put a “/s” or something. Otherwise, you’re gonna be blocked. I will also not hesitate to turn off anonymous asks if the situation gets too bad and there is no telling when I will turn it back on.

Come on guys. Is it that hard to be nicer to one another in this community? Stop with the hate on us writers who write for the fun of it. If you don’t like some writers (me included), just click the fuck away. 

Idols List

I have not changed this since I began posting on Tumblr in June 2021. My recent fic has went out of my Idols List which might get some “???” reactions from you guys. I have not changed it (at the time of writing this message) but it will likely be changed when this is scheduled to send. Most notable addition is probably going to be Itzy’s Yuna. Please do not send me endless requests to write her. While I am willing to write her, I do not have strong intentions to do so at the moment but this could change any moment if the vibes are right. 

Other additions are mainly going to be fromis_9 members but rest assured, I will not stray away from Twice and 100% be a fromis writer. Feel free to send me asks about them as well, I would like to get to know them better. My current biases are Jiheon and Nagyung so umm.. if there are any content for them (irregardless of sfw or nsfw), send them to me juseyo hehe. 

I would not post UA pics!!! I don���t care even if it’s a sfw cute moment. This is a nsfw blog and I don’t want my words to be twisted such that I’m lewding a minor. If I do post a UA pic, please let me know immediately and I will delete it.

Conclusion

That would be all. If you have made it this far, thank you for reading this long ass message. I do hope I don’t disappoint the Onces here that I’m no longer a writer that only writes Twice. I will try my very best to remain a primarily Twice writer cough cough unlike sins cough so keep out for my many planned contents that will be out in 2069 kek. Hope everyone stays safe and healthy this year <3

[dream-journalism]

journal entry | 8-02-21 | lucid dreams

I’ve been meaning to get back into making this blog a little more active but semester just started up again and I haven’t been able to put much time aside for this, but I’m procrastinating right now and i’ve been dying to talk about this so I’ll get straight to it.

I haven’t shifted yet, but I’ve made a lot (a lot a lot) of progress. I’ve been trying out some new methods I hadn’t tried before, including lucid dreaming methods (I will be making a new rating the methods post as soon as I get some free time) which have been great and shown a lot of results.

I’ve always had very vivid dreams almost every day, and kind-of-lucid-dreams (i like to call them semi-lucid dreams because I’m aware of the fact they’re dreams, but I don’t really manage to take control them), so I thought it would be a bit easier for me. 

I started trying a few weeks (maybe a month?) ago and after a few days of trying, I decided to take a small break a certain day because I was very tired, so I just went to sleep while saying some affirmations. Immediately I started having a weird dream; I won't go into details about the dream because it’s not important, but at some point in the dream, someone was leading me to a long corridor.

I could see a few meters into the corridor and there was a sort of veil that basically blocked off view from the rest of the corridor. I took a few steps into it, I reached the veil, stopped for a second as I stepped into it (I was kind of nervous, I’m not a big fan of the dark and it was pitch fucking black in there) and continued walking. After about three steps, I had stepped out of the veil and I could see down the rest of the corridor, it kept going and going.

I felt a sudden calm and then something in my head clicked that made me realize that if I kept walking down the corridor, it was going to take me to my DR. I don’t know how to explain how I knew that, I just knew.

I went back from where I came and asked the person that had led me there about it and they said yes. At this point I had realized it was a dream and was able to take control of it and thought to myself “this is a portal to my desired reality” and made the conscious decision to walk through it.

I started walking further and further into it without looking back and then everything started morphing into where I had scripted I was going to “wake up” in my DR. There were still some weird elements around that didn't belong there but they were sort of phasing in and out and didn’t seem completely solid (?). Unfortunately, I started getting very nervous, because even though I knew I was shifting, and I was asleep, and lucid dreaming, I started feeling my actual body in my OR – as in literally me laying in my bed. And I really think that that feeling of nervousness really messed me up because after that everything just slipped and fell away and I just fell back into a normal dream (it was DR related but not lucid or anything).

So I didn’t shift that time but the experience just really made me super happy and excited about how close I was and really motivated me, especially since I was going through a little bit of a slump. And since then I have really made a lot of progress in terms of just being able to grab hold of my dreams a lot more easily.

So since then, I’ve tried to mostly stick to shifting via lucid dreams and have had two instances where I managed to grab hold of my dreams, the first one after that made me a bit frustrated with myself because it started out very promising. I was taking a nap after a class and in the dream I was laying in my bed in my uni dorm and I felt someone grab my ass. It was my friend and after laughing about it, I got up, went to the bathroom and did a reality check. I realized it was a dream but for some reason, I just thought to myself “I don’t really have anything I want to do right now and I’m not anywhere interesting so I’ll just wake up” and it didn’t even dawn on me that I could’ve tried to open a portal until a few hours later.

It was a very unfortunate realization but it’s okay, I made my peace with it and laughed it off. And lastly, my latest happed two nights ago; I was having a weird dream as usual and at a certain point, I accidentally made a reality check and realized I was in a dream.

After this, the person I was with and I went our separate ways and I found a little isolated spot and started trying to open a portal. Key word “trying”, because I wasn’t sure how; the last time the portal had just sort of been there in the form of a corridor, so I just started thinking about it. 

I got as far as to accidentally summoning Beelzebub from Obey Me (don’t ask) before I completely lost track, lost my grip on my dream and completely forgot about opening a portal to my DR and fell back into a normal dream.

So I may not have shifted, but at least I’m very happy about the fact that I’m starting to get the hang of doing reality checks and getting hold of my dreams more easily and frequently.

[abused-sides]

Looking [Roommates AU]

Trigger warning: This au follows most of the sides in the aftermath of surviving abuse (domestic, parental, etc). In this particular fic it’s only implied, but it’s an instrumental part of the story and if that bothers you, then please not only scroll past this fic, but block my blog as well.

More tws: Homelessness, homeless shelters, sleeping outside, paranoia, house-bound, anxiety/overwhelmed, malnourishment, let me know if i missed anything 

Genre: ??? Virgil escapes and Patton interviews him to move in 

Ships: Endgame romantic intruloceit, romantic prinxiety, queerplatonic royality

Wc: 2541 

A/N: I promise I’m getting to your prompts I love you guys

Virgil laid flat on his back, eyes fixed on the familiar water stain on the ceiling. 

It’d been there since he moved in, three years ago. He hadn’t noticed it right away, instead focused on exploring all the rooms, thrilled about all the space he would have. He wished the house was smaller— Wished they lived in an apartment. He certainly would have more free time. 

There were four spots in the house Virgil hid the money, and he never visited the same one too often. One was tucked inside an empty spray bottle with all of his cleaning stuff, under the kitchen sink. One was slipped between the bedspring and the mattress, on Virgil’s side. He’d never felt a lump or anything, but he was terrified his boyfriend would somehow feel it in his sleep and find the stash. 

Another was hidden in a plant pot under Virgil’s favourite window, buried under the dirt in a plastic bag. The last was tucked into Virgil’s wallet, which he hadn’t touched in three years. No need for a wallet when you don’t leave the house, and your boyfriend pays for everything with his card. 

His boyfriend had been gone for hours. He’d be gone for several more. Virgil wasn’t sure why he hadn’t left yet, why he did his daily chores and then just laid there, hoping the water stain would grow and spread and swallow the entire house. 

He wouldn’t get another chance like this. Not for years, probably. It was the exact opportunity he’d been waiting for. 

So why couldn’t he do it?

He squeezed his eyes shut as they welled with tears. He imagined his boyfriend getting home with his gifts and false compassion, imagined having to spend another several years as his property, with his dull life of cleaning and not much else. 

He pushed himself off the ground and headed for the window that looked out the front yard. He dug under the daisy growing in the pot, spilling dirt all over the immaculate carpet, ripping up its roots and petals, and grabbed the first stash. 

Once he started, he couldn’t stop. He flew through the house to grab all the money and put his backpack together, and then skidded to a stop in front of the door. He swallowed. He was going to throw up. 

He reached blindly for the coatrack, his fingers wrapping around the soft fabric of his boyfriend’s hoodie. He pulled it on and threw the door open. He didn’t think to close it as he stepped out onto the drive, almost disassociating. All he’d felt under his feet for three years was carpet and tile and hardwood. He hopped off the driveway into the grass, and then the sidewalk, and then the road. 

He took in a shuddering breath, pulled his hood up, and ducked his head as he headed for the nearest train station. 

The ticket stole most of his money, but it didn’t matter. As long as he got to the city, he would be fine. He could figure it all out from there. 

He sat alone on the train, wanting desperately to sleep but instead sitting straight up, never resting from his constant patrol. A lady sitting across from him at one point offered to buy him something to eat, but he refused. 

The train stopped in the city’s station close to midnight. Despite him saying he didn’t need any help, the lady guided his shaky self down the steps, and patted his back. 

“Where are you headed?” 

Virgil swallowed. “Um…”

“Do you… Have family in the city?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know where his parents were. 

“Here, let me see your arm.” 

Virgil was hesitant, but carefully rolled his sleeve up. The cool tip of her Sharpie scribbled over his pale skin for a moment, and when she finished, she’d mapped out the directions to a few homeless shelters. 

“They should be able to help you if you don’t have anyone else,” she said. “They can feed you, too. You should eat.”

Virgil’s face turned red. “Okay. Uh, thank- Thank you. Thanks.”

She smiled and squeezed his shoulder, and then she was on her way. 

Virgil spent the next few weeks hopping around homeless shelters. Most of them only allowed a few days’ stay at a time, and he was forced out after breakfast early in the morning. Occasionally, he had to find alternative places to sleep, resorting to behind closed stores, alleyways, fire escapes— Anything he could find and be relatively certain he wouldn’t be caught. 

Most days spent in the city were unproductive. He was overwhelmed, not sure what he wanted, what choices he even had. The stark difference of the empty house he spent three days in, the loudest sounds being traffic outside or his music, to plunging himself deep in the middle of something that was constantly alive, constantly busy, was… 

Overwhelming. 

He was at a cafe, his current favourite place in the city because they let him stay as long as he wanted and gave him free water, when he saw the ad. 

THREE ROOMMATES (MALE) LOOKING FOR FOURTH 

The three of us are currently struggling to make rent, and we have a spare bedroom. Rent would be approximately $575/month. Two of us work from home, and they’re very loud. One of them only works from home part-time. 

Attached was a phone number to call for an interview. 

Virgil asked the girl behind the counter to borrow her phone, and dialled the number with shaking hands. 

“Hello?” 

“H-Hi.” Virgil cleared his throat as his voice broke. “Um, I saw your ad?” 

“Oh! Awesome! When are you free for an interview?”

“Any time, but…” He swallowed. “I’m… I’m just a little, uh, short. I only have about $490 left. But- But if I just had a place to stay, I could-”

“Hey!” The boy sounded concerned. “Hey, hey, calm down. We can still do the interview! Everyone here is struggling, we get it. Besides, you’re our third applicant, and the other two are… Not favourable. So if you nail the interview, and we don’t get too many more applicants, I’ll try to convince my roommates. Where have you been staying?”

Virgil hesitated. “Kind of, um, all over the place. The- The shelters, mostly.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed gravely. “Okay, are you free in an hour? I’m home, so if you want to bang out the interview today, we can!” 

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Really? Uh- Yeah. Yeah, I can get there. Um, what’s the address?” 

When he arrived at the apartment complex, he wanted to throw up and go back to the shelter. Images of Patton laughing at him, or harassing him, or attacking him were the mildest thoughts to run through his head. 

But this was his best option. 

He knew that. 

He had to go inside. 

He took in a shuddering breath. He had to go inside. 

He walked inside. 

Virgil was afraid of elevators, so he took the stairs, only half procrastinating. Patton and his roommates lived on the fourth floor. By the time he arrived, his thighs burned and he was a little out of breath. He looked down at himself and cringed— He was so skinny, mostly just bones, and pale. He looked like he crawled out of a cave. He wore his boyfriend’s now dirty hoodie and jeans that hadn’t been washed in a week. 

How the fuck was he supposed to land this interview? 

He forced himself to push forward, though, and when he knocked, he barely heard it. The door flew open and Virgil barely managed not to jump back. The boy on the other side had golden-brown skin and big, round green eyes. His dark hair fell in messy curls over his forehead. His apron, covered in flour and cocoa powder, followed the swell of his round belly. 

“Hi!” He stuck his hand out. “Virgil? I’m Patton!” 

Virgil shook his hand with a loose grip and stepped inside when gestured. Patton pointed out the table while he hung up his apron, and Virgil nervously lowered himself into one of the old, chipped wooden chairs. Patton came to sit across from him with a warm smile and a sheet of paper. 

“Okay, so I just have a few questions!” He said cheerily. “Don’t let yourself get too nervous, this is hardly formal, I promise.” 

Virgil nodded. 

“Okay! First question: How long would you be staying?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh… I’m not- I’m not really sure. As long as possible, I guess. Until I get back on my feet and some time after that, if you all are still here.” 

Patton scribbled his answer down. “What do you like to do in your free time?” 

Virgil spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about that question. Did cleaning count as free time? No, that was basically his job. Better refer to it as such. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and stumbled out, “Well, uh, I guess- I guess I listen to music a lot. I gardened sometimes with, you know, those tiny plant boxes?” 

He gasped, and for a terrifying second, Virgil thought he’d somehow offended him. But then Patton pointed to the right, into the living room. Along the sill of the huge window were several of the exact planter boxes Virgil’s boyfriend bought for him. 

“That’s awesome!” Patton gushed. “You’d be able to help us take care of them! They die a lot. We’re planting a lot of strawberries right now, are you any good with them?”

Virgil nodded. “Y-Yeah, I grew tons of strawberries.” 

Patton grinned ear to ear and furiously scribbled some things down. Virgil relaxed a little. “How clean are you? Are you good at cleaning up after yourself?”

Virgil was nodding before he finished speaking. “Yeah, I’m really clean. I spent a lot of time cleaning before I left, so it’s, uh, pretty much habit not to leave a mess around.”

“How would you feel about a chore chart?” Patton pointed to the fridge behind Virgil. Stuck on the front was a large sheet of paper split into three columns, with the headings PATTON, LOGAN, and ROMAN. “Logan made it, and he’s pretty strict about everyone sticking to it. It basically just splits our weekly house chores down the middle, with small accommodations depending on what job everyone has. On paper, I have the least amount of chores because I work the most hours, but a lot of those are cleaning, anyway.” 

Virgil shifted nervously. Would they let him off by saying looking for a job counted towards those hours? Otherwise… He’d be doing a lot of cleaning. What if I trick myself into thinking leaving was a waste of time? 

“I can do that.” He was surprised at how confident he sounded. 

“Great! How often do you cook? No one’s required to cook a certain amount a week or anything- You don’t have to cook at all, if you don’t want to or can’t -but we eat a lot of family dinners so it’s evened itself out so far naturally.” 

“Yeah- No, I can cook. I have a few recipes pretty nailed down so, uh, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Virgil’s body was alive with adrenaline. Was he doing well? He thought he was doing well. Patton looked happier and happier with each answer, so he had to be doing well, right? 

“Along the same line, how do you feel about sharing?” Patton bit his lip. “We understand that everyone has their boundaries, but we’re all pretty close. If you moved in, someone might dip into your groceries by accident, and borrow something without asking. We’d never go into your room without asking, but, well… Yeah, we have boundary issues.” He giggled nervously. 

Tightness expanded in Virgil’s chest. “That’s fine,” he managed. 

Patton frowned. “It’s okay if you’re not. If you’re the right fit for us, we’ll just have to be more careful. You’d just have to forgive a few slip-ups while we adjust.” 

Virgil nodded and forced his voice to steady. “It’s fine. I promise.” He’d just keep everything important in his room- It’s not like he had more than a backpack’s worth right then, anyway. 

Patton nodded slowly and wrote down his answer. “Okay… Um, what’s your sleep schedule like? Roman and Logan both get up pretty early. Logan’s really quiet, but Roman’s really… Not, so if you’re a light sleeper and you sleep in like a normal person, his singing might get on your nerves.”

“I’m fine with that. I, uh, my sleep schedule’s kind of all over the place, so I don’t think it matters?”

“Okay! How has it been lately?”

“Well, uh, the shelters kick us out pretty early, so my sleep schedule probably coincides with Roman’s.” 

Patton nodded. “Do you have any pets, or plans to get any?” Virgil shook his head, and Patton made a noise of disappointment. “How often do you get drunk?”

Surprised, Virgil admitted, “I’ve never gotten drunk.” 

“Oh!” Patton blushed and laughed. “Do you plan on changing that any time soon? Was it a rule, or?” 

“It wasn’t a rule, I just… I don’t know, there was never too much alcohol around. I don’t plan on getting into the stuff, no.” 

Patton nodded and mumbled, “Good.” He straightened up. “Are you still friends with your old roommates?” 

Virgil folded his hands in his lap, squeezing tight. “No?” He stammered, “Is, uh, is that bad?”

He shook his head. “No, not necessarily! How many roommates have you had?”

“Well, there were my parents, and then my boyfriend.” 

“That’s completely understandable,” Patton promised. 

Virgil tipped his head to the side in confusion. Even the part about his parents? He didn’t assume Virgil was some ungrateful, heartless monster? 

“And, um, I’m sorry about this-” Patton looked at him guiltily, “-but I do have to ask… How would you be paying the rent? Would you be able to put down a deposit?”

Shit. Fucking hell, this was going bad fast. “I’m not really sure yet? I- I know that’s bad, I just- Uh, well, I have been looking, I promise. I’ll get the first job I can. I promise.”

Patton held his hand up with a frown. “Hey, it’s okay. I know, you’re in a rough spot right now. It’s okay. You said you’d be a little on the first month?”

Virgil swallowed and nodded. “I can give it to you now, though.”

Patton laughed nervously. “Uh, no, that’s okay. Please hold onto that. If we accept you as a roommate, we’ll take it then, okay? Don’t let someone pre-emptively take your money.” 

Virgil blushed. “Okay.”

Patton wrote something down, then looked up and asked, “Is there anything else I should know?” 

He thought for a moment. He was sure there was something he should tell them, something they were obligated to know before they agreed to live with him. Plenty of ideas ran through his head in his boyfriend’s voice, but for whatever reason, he didn’t think those were appropriate to voice. 

“No,” he settled on. “Not that I can think of.” 

“Okay.” Patton smiled and set the paper down. “We’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” 

Reblogs > Asks > Likes 

Also, for anybody who isn’t aware, I have a ko-fi where I’ll write you 300 words with your prompt for one coffee 

[tempest-toss]

“Recap” into teaser

[[Ozzie here! Just writing this author’s note to say that I’m really glad that this is finally done! It took three months (mostly procrastination) but it’s here! And if you’re wondering, it’s being posted here on the Tempest blog first because it is considered lore for Tempest. Before we begin I would like to say a few things:

1) The writing style is weird because it’s written in a recap sort of way 2) The writing style seems to switch partway through as it does start to lead into a teaser-sort of style near the end. Apologies for the weird switch, but it would’ve been harder to write if I had to stick to one style for this. 3) There are Content/trigger warnings including: mentions of blood/gore, death, mentions of suicide. If there’s more, please let me know so I can properly tag it.  --Ozzie]]

Sapphire woke up in a chamber. It was outfitted with a sink, a mirror, a bunk bed, and a metal door locked, needing a keycard. After getting herself familiar with her new surroundings, the room started to flood from a sudden pipe burst. With quick thinking, she looked around the room and managed to procure the keycard for her door. She quickly exited and shut the door. As she began to look around the new hallway she was in, seven more doors near her opened, and out walked people she recognized immediately: Bandage, Rewind, Neon, Sprockets, Goggles, Clack, and Pixel, code-named agents that worked alongside her for the MTF unit Omicron-5. The quick breather of reassurance that they got from meeting each other soon ended as Goggles pointed out that water was quickly filling the hall behind them. That was all they needed to bolt forward.

 They quickly found stairs and ran up them until there were no more stairs to use. A quick look revealed that they were at a level that opened up into a wide floor. Just as they were reaching the end of the stairs, they heard a commotion from up above. A quick look-up confirmed that there was a secondary set of stairs not attached to the ones they were on. Down from the secondary stairs arrived seven more people. It didn’t take long for it to be obvious that they were from GOIs.

The first ones to introduce themselves were an Alexylva student by the name of Gardenia Meadowood, and a Serpent’s Hand scholar by the name of Morty Aeron. Specializers in botany and embalming, these two were the first to introduce themselves to Sapphire and the others and were the only ones to not have any real immediate identifiers (Morty did have a snake tattoo that reached to his hand, but it was mostly obscured by his sleeves.)

The remaining five were easy to associate with a GOI considering they had their logos and/or markings on open display. Two of them, Iouli Thomaie and Vassilis Admetos, were Sarkites, easily identifiable thanks to their tattoos. Two other young men were members of the GOC, according to the picture they wore along with their ID badges, which identified them as Benny Smith and Jason Snike. The remaining three were a father, mother, and daughter trio all bearing the Insurgency’s logo on their matching hoodies; they identified as Blake, Cheryl, and Tina. Shortly after introductions were made, a part of the wall collapsed, revealing a young man who would identify as Jeremy Fairfield, a secretary for Dr. Wondertainment. 

After all, introductions were given (again), a voice was heard through speakers in the room. The voice identified themselves as “The Gamemaster'' and said that the eighteen of them were going to participate in a game of life and death. They were instructed to go through special numbered doors via numbered bracelets that they wore (something they didn’t realize they were even wearing), and that they could escape if they left through a door marked with a nine. They could only enter a numbered door if the digital root input equaled the door’s number; furthermore, the minimum number of people required to open a door was six, and the maximum was ten. When opened, the door would remain open for nine seconds, before closing on its own. Once the inputees entered through their door, they would have 81 seconds to find the deactivation panel. If they find it, they have to input their numbers and the countdown would end. If they didn’t find the panel, didn’t all input themselves, or if at least one person stayed behind outside of the numbered door, then those that were beyond the door would explode from bombs placed in their stomachs. The Gamemaster dropped two last bits of important info. Firstly, this game is timed. All players have nine hours to escape. Second, the transmitters that connect to their bombs are in their bracelets. The only way to get your bracelet off is to either escape or if your heart ceases beating. He then wished everyone good luck before the speakers signaled that they had been disconnected.

The eighteen began to talk amongst themselves. “What is going on?” “Why was I selected for this nightmarish game?” “We have BOMBS in our guts!?” Sapphire gave a sharp whistle, immediately quieting everyone. With the chatter quieted, and a deep breath taken, the conversation resumed, but now with a more logical focus. The first thing the group did was test to see if what The Gamemaster said was true. They tried to open one of the two numbered doors present to them with three, four, and five people, but found them unable to open. They tried one last time with six people, and the door was able to open. That’s when the first incident occurred.

Jason fell in after the door had been opened for seven seconds. He fell so quickly that no one was able to grab him as the doors shut. A methodic beeping was heard. Jason began to panic from the inside. He then told everyone to tell his siblings that he loved them before a sound of an explosion was heard. Shakingly, six of them opened up the door to reveal blood, tissue, and the clothes and bracelet of Jason. Nobody moved as the doors slowly shut themselves after nine seconds. His death meant that everything that The Gamemaster said was truthful.

After the reality had settled in, the overall motivation to continue had lowered. However, they knew that they couldn't stand around and do nothing because of the time limit The Gamemaster had put on them. They took a moment and figured who could go through which of the two doors and split up and entered them. 

After clearing the puzzles they had encountered in the rooms, (and after one group nearly exploded from being unable to find the deactivation panel early on), the groups met up again in an area reminiscent of a hospital room, except it was full of empty cots and had three numbered doors. A quick examination showed that the main power for the scanners had been removed, thus preventing them from going any further. Everyone agreed to split up and search for them, the only exceptions being Rewind, Gardenia, and Tina, who decided to assist Tina in finding a restroom. About an hour later, Goggles ran up to Sapphire to tell her that someone had restored the panels. Sapphire knew something was wrong when she noticed that Goggles was not smiling. As soon as she was about to ask why a scream was heard from the hospital room. Sapphire ran with Goggles back to see why a scream was heard.

In the middle of the room was Blake and Cheryl laying in their own blood. These two insurgents, father, and mother to Tina, now lay dead in front of the numbered doors. Suspicion was immediate amongst the now fifteen remaining “players''. After all, everybody had split up, so all alibis except for Gardenia, Rewind, and Tina were hard to trust. But it seemed that a culprit was found quickly, as Neon pointed out that Iouli had been obscuring her hand behind her back. A quick pull from Morty revealed that Iouli’s hand was stained with something red, which caused an argument as Vassilis defended Iouli, claiming that she was innocent. His words were swiftly eaten as Iouli pulled a blade from her pockets and lunged at Tina, only to be grabbed and suplexed by Vassilis himself, causing Iouli to be knocked out. Some rope was grabbed from a nearby room and used to tie her up; after affirming that she would stay put, the fourteen split up their groups and entered through the two rightmost doors. Fortunately, the puzzles this time around were a bit more straightforward. They soon exited back into the hospital room with relatively high spirits, despite the loop they realized they had made. 

Iouli was gone. They found her body lying in the hallway, stomach down. A quick test with Bandage and an examination by Morty confirmed the truth: Iouli Thomaie had no heartbeat, and she was killed by a sharp attack to her gut. Instead of suspicion, confusion spread amongst the fourteen; the only question that was floating in their heads was, “How could she be killed if we were all together?” It was a tricky conundrum indeed, as everyone except Iouli entered the two numbered rooms, and everyone was by someone the whole time, so there would be no possible way that someone could have left, murdered Iouli, and returned. Sprocket’s voice piped up, amplified by the silence.

“Well, what if she took her own life?” Everyone turned their heads toward him. How could he say something like that, and what prompted him to say that? 

“Sprocket may have a point,” Neon spoke. “We went through different numbered doors and we think we have each found half of a special document. We were discussing as we were leaving the hospital room a few moments ago.” Everyone gave their full attention to the duo as they began to speak. 

“Through my door, I found a document describing a neurotoxin called Korem-23,” Sprockets began. “It was discovered by Dr. Andrea Korem, and evidently, it’s very hard to create. It must be kept in temperatures at around 30- -10 degrees, otherwise, it’ll evaporate or solidify. It is also a very tricky toxin, as the resources required to make it are hard to acquire, and it can only be administered as a liquid.”

“Through my door, I found the other half that explained what it does,” Neon continued. “It would seem this neurotoxin is unique in the fact that unlike other neurotoxins, it is not fatal, however, it does interfere with certain aspects of a creature’s psyche. Mainly that it causes the victim to experience heightened aggression, stress, and desperation, which eventually leads to them becoming desperate to… y’know” she said, knowing that she needed not to expand further on the topic. Sapphire couldn’t help but look at Iouli’s body. Could that be true? Could Iouli have been injected with Korem-23? But if that is true, then wouldn’t the one behind all this, AKA The Gamemaster, have infected more of them? Sapphire wasn’t the only one that had this idea, as others were slowly coming to the same conclusion. The clock in the main staircase brought them out of their thoughts as the chimes were heard. They had a few hours remaining.

Panic began to slowly creep into the remaining “players”. Could they actually escape from where they were? After all, every single room that they had been in so far has made it seem like the location everyone was at was a ship of some kind in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. If they escaped, would there be a boat for them to use? Doubt was beginning to dampen their spirits, so to stay positive, Neon, Sprockets, and Benny decided to explore any remaining areas to see if they could find the number nine door since most of the ship was available to them.

About half an hour passed before a loud yell was heard. Without any hesitation, everyone ran down towards the general area where they heard, and the sounds of a pair of doors opening alerted them to what room to enter. The room they entered was designed in a way that resembled a celebration room, but nobody paid any attention to that, but instead the corpse of Sprockets. The mournful cry of Pixel echoed throughout the room. Tuning out his cry, Morty checked Sprockets’ hands, discovering a scrap of paper written with his blood. He showed it to Gardenia, and the two approached the door, drawing almost everyone’s attention. It was then they realized a possible motive for murder: The number 9 door. They saw Gardenia and Morty pull apart the panel and fiddle with wires, and an unlocking sound resonated through the room; using Sprockets’ final words, they were able to bypass the door without leaving anyone behind. With a promise to avenge him, Pixel was able to leave Sprockets’ body and join the group as they opened the door, and found the exploded remains of Neon. The sight alone prompted Tina to burst into tears, while a feeling of anger filled most of the others as the main culprit was now blatantly clear: Benny. With a few calming words, everyone continued beyond the door, eager to make sure that Benny could not escape.

Fueled on adrenaline, the remaining participants rushed forward, eventually reaching an open area with stairs and the murderous GOC member. A standoff was initiated, as Benny pulled out a gun, and threatened to shoot whoever moved forward. Then, presuming that all intel would die with them, began to monologue. He began a spiel admitting that he orchestrated almost every death and that he was part of a rogue cell of the GOC known as the Platinum Fangs, who were the puppet masters behind the Isolation Experiment. It was this experiment that caused them to separate from the GOC, as they didn’t approve of the human experimentation. As he continued, Jeremy reached into his pocket and pulled out Dr. Wondertainment's Stretchy Stretch Stretch String™ and with a quick whip smacked the gun out of Benny's hand and another attack brought him down. He was quickly restrained and was knocked out with a kick, for extra precaution. With that, everyone stopped and let out some deep breaths: They were finally going to end this experiment once and for all. With the mastermind tied up and with them, they bid a farewell to the building and their fallen comrades and then ran up the stairs. Soon the end was in sight and they burst through the door, expecting the sea breeze, only to walk out and see the barren frost land that was the wilderness of Russia. The ship was never real, but instead, all participants were in a facility built underground, most likely to withstand a nuclear event. A van, most likely having been used to transport everybody here was nearby. Using their skills, Goggles was able to hotwire it and Rewind was able to call in to Site-781, which was nearby, and let them know of their arrival. They then piled in and drove, all of them a mix of happiness and shock that they had survived the whole ordeal.

At Site-781, everyone was checked for injuries and the members of the GOIs were interrogated with the assumption that they had something to do with the earlier events. In the end, Morty, Jeremy, and Gardenia were allowed to leave, while Vassilis took Tina and vanished before the Foundation could decide what could be done about them. An encrypted message received later seemed to point to the idea that Vassilis took Tina to the Insurgent cell that she grew up at. Benny Smith was the main focus of the Foundations’ time; he was eventually incarcerated.

Unfortunately, the stress of the experiment took a toll on Pixel, who ended up slipping into a coma, in which his memories of the event were locked away as he eventually woke up with no knowledge of anything having happened. In order to heal and so to not trigger any horrible memories for him, Goggles, Clack, Bandage, and Rewind decided to go on temporary leave from the Foundation for several years, with the ultimate choice at the end to figure out if they would be willing to return or get amnesticized. With no more of her members to work with, Agent Sapphire pulled the plug on Omicron-5, and the name was retired.

It’s been nine years since the first Isolation Experiment occurred, but that didn’t mean it was the last. For a few years afterward, several other experiments occurred; some were short, some were done by other people, and one was so intense that it gained notoriety in the public eye. For each of these experiments, Agent Sapphire made sure that she was involved in their investigations so that she may be able to help end them once and for all. Five years after the initial one, the eighth Isolation Experiment ended up revealing a flaw that exposed the Platinum Fangs, and they, along with any possible connections, were apprehended. After this, Agent Sapphire became content with the knowledge that nothing that heinous would ever happen again. So she was hit with a horrible pang of unease when she received an email from an O5 with the simple subject of: “It’s happening again”. The rest of the email explained that Agent Sapphire would be a willing participant and would have to risk her life to put an end to this once and for all. After thinking about it, she obliged.

Elsewhere, different people were ending their days and packing up. Some were double-checking their bags, some went to the back of their room to check out a noise they heard, and some were simply on a drive. But each of them are met with the same fate of a white gas that puts them to sleep. When they awake they’ll each have to participate in a game of life and death, where teamwork is key but deception is much more profitable. Hopefully, they can all make it out alive when they go through The Isolation Experiment.

[marvinhasadhd]

Hi

This is my first post on this account and I just wanna quickly introduce myself (altough probably nobody will see this).

I‘m 20 and I used to be a gifted kid. Could talk, read and write before all my friends and classmates could and the thing just about every adult said to me when I was a child, was that I was very smart for a kid my age and that I would be going places someday.

Well, later when I graduated from elementary school, I went on to the next school form and for 4 years, I was one of the best in my class altough I spent most of my time in class reading books instead of being attentive. Had some light struggles in some subjects (like english or later maths), but generally I still lived up to the expectation people had of me.

And suddenly I came to a point, where school started to be more about actually learning and being attentive and my grades suddenly didn’t reflect my self-image of being a smart kid. I got 4s and 5s regularly (where I‘m from 1 is best and 5 is worst) and I noticed that I actually had to learn. But I could’nt. I tried to learn, record things and listen to them, write it down in my own words, etc, but within a few months of seriously trying to learn, I noticed that I just couldn’t learn. I constantly lost track of what I was doing, found myself procrastinating all the time and I just couldn’t get myself to learn.

So, within a pretty short time, I turned from one of the best kids in my class to the kid, who constantly said that he only learns for anything over a 5, as thats enough. And the thing is, I quickly came to believe that myself. Only in retrospect I realised that actually I just wanted to tell myself why I wasn’t getting good grades anymore and why I couldn’t live up to the standard, I set for myself when I was younger.

So the years passed, I graduated from school and started to attend university.

I tough, that now that I actually study something I‘m really interested in, I will manage to be more attentive, to learn and to move quickly through my courses. Well, took me one year and 3 tries to pass my first test (with a 4) and during that time I lost contact to most of the friends I made on campus, as they already were miles ahead of me.

I thought, maybe it had to do with my work-morale and so I started another year where I really tried to be productive. Didn’t quite work out for me. The year is almost over and I had no progress whatsoever (partly due to the whole pandemic).

Well, I had some form of progress. In March, I visited my doctor and told him about my problems, my inability to focus, to stay concentrated, etc and he sent me to one of his colleagues. I had quite a long talk with her, did tests, filled out dozens of pages of questionnaires and a week later, I got a diagnosis.

The diagnosis said „ICD10 F90.0“ which in english is described as ADHD, predominantly inattentive type. Well, I‘m not from an English speaking country and translated from German, the diagnosis roughly said „Mild attention and concentration problem“. I felt not taken serious by this. I‘m struggling for nearly two years of university, I already lost all students payments from the state because I didn‘t progress quick enough and now I get told that thats a mild problem?

Well, three months later I thought about that diagnosis again and decided to google it. Should have done that earlier, because within seconds I saw that it meant ADHD. I started laughing and teared up a little. I was relieved, as suddenly I knew what was going on. I had an answer.

When my girlfriend came up an hour later, I told her with a bright smile that my diagnosis was ADHD. She was kinda confused, why I was happy about that, but after some explaining she understood that I was happy about understanding whats going on, not about having a disorder.

Well, that was a month ago. During that month, I did lots of research, read blog posts, articles and just about everything I could find on the topic and started to look for a good doctor in my area. Found one and next week I‘ll have my first appointment.

I know that many people don’t like meds, but I kinda hope that I will get a prescription, because I feel like I wasted two years of my life. I began university when I was 18, now I‘m 20 and I‘m still trying to learn for tests from the first semester. I hope that getting a prescription will help me to be on the same level of concentration as neurotypical students, so I can actually advance in my studies and hopefully get my bachelors degree as soon as possible. (And hopefully my masters after that. And maybe a phd after that. I dream of staying in research and working in conservationist breeding, so being able to get my phd one day is one of my big dreams and goals in life.)

Well, yeah.

Thats my (not so) short introduction and a quick summary of my story until now.

If there’s any weird formulations, please forgive me, english isnt my first language.

If you read this this far, thank you very much. I hope you have a great day

[stray-wanderer]

Sudden new blog for Polytheist stuff made spontaneously at 3AM? Sure, why not? But whyyyy

BIG STORY TIME

For one, I used to have a blog dedicated to spirituality, but for some reason I deleted it (if I remember correctly it was something like, "I don't use this, so I'll just... yeah."

However, I've been recently really throwing myself into doing more research than ever and I was thinking about making a new blog, so again sure why not, right?

But I procrastinate like nothing else

The past few days I've felt like another deity has been trying to get a hold of me. My patron is Hermes though and he didn't seem like he was really for me reaching out to someone else and I l got a, "you need to wait" vibe from my tarot readings

Lately I've been working on astral projection/lucid dreaming/meditation exercises in general

I've also been doing other stuff with the tarot to try and learn more about my own path which seemed to point me towards learning more about healing, which gave me pause because I thought maybe Apollo was reaching out, but I still had those wait vibes going so I was *patient (is it still patience if you ask for hints? Lol).

Then I go through a thing where I pull cards on trickery, which not uncommon for Hermes, but then I go with a nice solid, "if I guess right will you tell me?"

He gives me a nice thumbs up, with some, "go ahead vibes" I guess Apollo first because I usually get some little vibes from him, but I'm still pretty new to tarot and I've only really talked to Hermes through them. The next deity I guess is Aphrodite because I had a tarot reading done for me a few months ago and someone told me she was reaching out to me. He says no, it isn't really her at the moment, or at least she's not the one I'm asking about (because yeah, he knows who I'm asking about I just don't). And st this point I'm gonna guess randomly and I shoot for Ares. I've never ever really spoken to Ares in any regard outside of prayer here and there. I usually pray to him right before I go to the gym or if I need strength/courage or just wanna thank him for being awesome. Hermes gives me a yes and a yes on if I can contact him. However the trickery cards from earlier kind of made me wonder if this was a trick by Hermes, but I try seeking out Ares through the tarot anyway. I had a red candle set out and I was ready (or I thought I was anyway), I go back forth for a bit with Ares trying to figure out what's up. For some reason I can't get my red candle to stay lit no matter what I do, nothing was wrong with the wick or anything it would light, be good for a few cards then out, as if someone was saying, "yeah, he wants to talk to you, but that isn't whose reaching out to you" moving on, sad face because that red candle won't light at all and I really liked its scent.

Yesterday I tried to practice a mantra to get me to remember my dreams more (it isn't a huge problem for me, sometimes I remember other times I don't, but I would like to remember more often if that makes sense)

I woke up and nothing was there, but I woke up in a really good mood so all I could do was hope I had a good dream

Today, I go to meditate (using guided meditations from youtube because I'm not great at it on my own yet, I get ridiculously sidetracked or randomly tense which is just counterproductive), good job to me I fall asleep

When I wake up still no memory of any dreams or anything, so I go on with my routine for the rest of the day

TONIGHT (yes, we are finally getting to why I made this blog)

I have dream (not lucid), I'm telling a story to someone but I can't tell who it is and I'm not sure if it's important. But me and my childhood best friend (we've known each other since we were 4 and we are still best friends, so her being in my dream isn't weird to me) and another person I couldn't make out or really see, there was definitely male energy though. We were playing hide and seek, but like kinda mixed with tag because if the person looking for us saw us, we'd run. Nothing malicious here we don't seem scared or anything, it's a good time, but distinctly 2 things, not a memory and not somewhere I'm familiar with. For a moment I think it is the park around the corner from my house we used to go to, but the area is just too wooded and I've never seen the places we were at before in person.

The last place we hide is an arching tree, it's as if we are hiding in a large hollowed out tree, I'm wearing a blue shirt which I don't realize the seeker can see and that is when he finds us.

After this we all agree (mind you I still can't see this third person, in some regard he is like a shadow or just not there at all) to go down to the river. Actually, the figure asks if we want to and my best friend says yes, and I said no, but then tell them we can still go (something tells me my initial no came from not feeling like walking down and up again which means I need to do some serious soul searching on just how lazy I am because wow). We go down to the river and just I lean down to put my hands in the water everything changes. Now there's still three of us, but one of them is my uncle (the only father figure I've ever had in my life) he, Jessica, and I have gone to the beach together before, so now I'm like, okay memory time! But then still no, because again I've never been to this beach and I've never seen the ocean so rough. Like nothing about the ocean in this dream seemed really inviting, but I wasn't scared to be on the beach, I just didn't think it was safe to get into the water.

We see another man (a man I couldn't recognize but had a face and stuff) in the water and a few other people staggered in the water, they're letting themselves be pulled in and out by the waves. Which yeah it looks fun, but the sea isnt stormy but definitely rough enough for dream me to make the call not to get in the water.

My uncle is a water baby and practically launches himself to the ocean. My best friend and I watch him walk into the water, we tell him he is too far, but he is hard headed and doesn't listen, after he moves to his waist a very small wave comes. He seemed disappointed and I vaguely remember hearing someone whisper, "sea god."

Then an epic wave comes, it's huge, like even from where Jessica and I are on the beach it should definitely be coming right for us. My uncle rides on top of it, because for some reason the wave is narrow as if it is just pointed at me. My uncle tumbles out of it at the shore line and gives a cheer saying, "that was awesome!" And for a moment the wave seems to be "looking" at me looking in quotes because it's water and I don't see any faces or anything

I wake up and it is abrupt I'm kinda shaking and I just ask myself in my head, "who is this? Whose there?" And I get a (in sort of a no duh kinda tone, mind you, which hey it is 3AM sorry for being disoriented I usually get my 8 hours in) "Poseidon"

In conclusion, it's now 4AM I have a new tumblr blog, and I wanna go back to bed and I'm sorry this is so long I'll make sure to add a "read more" thing as soon I wake up and get on my laptop in probably like 2 hours.

Update 

1. I added the read more bar, I am so sorry to anyone who had to scroll through all that 

2. I tried to go back to sleep and as I did, guess who almost had sleep paralysis? Me! Guess who got scared and was like wait no, not right now! Also me! So, work needs to be done. On the other side of things just as I was trying to resist sleep paralysis I heard a voice say either: breathe, sleep or three, I really couldn’t make it out. It sounded like someone trying to calm me, so I lean towards it being breathe, which would make sense, if only I had listened lol

[skelffricat]

Good grief, Charlie Brown.

I’ve never owned an electric toothbrush. I’ve never had a dishwasher. I am the dishwasher. I like washing dishes. I never bought an iron. I don’t have a hairdryer. I find it strange that I get advertised these reusable alternatives for things that I never use anyway. Alternatives to cling film. I put another plate over the dish. Alternatives to cotton buds. I use my finger. (Ew, you may say, but surely a finger’s that size to fit in ears and nostrils? Or whatever orifice you please. Wash your hawnds.) Alternatives to cotton wool circles. What? I dont know why these thoughts have come into my head, when I want to write about my youngest child. Really, I’m meant to be working, but an annoying email from my dead daughter’s school sent me down a suicide rabbithole. Perhaps those other thoughts come about as my classic brain avoidance schemes. Like when you hoover instead of doing an essay. Positive procrastination, I used to call it. I wanted to visit some friends last night- a fun thing! but I was feeling all solitary and awkward. I cleaned the bathroom ceiling at first, instead! I had to really talk myself into going to see them. I was looking at my bed and it was saying, “Get into me! and read your book!”

Then I went, and I had a lovely time, of course. I still finished the book I was reading, when I got home at midnight, until three am, making myself ever so tired. I’ve stopped taking the tablets- beta blockers and mirtazapine (more by accident rather than design. They’re still up in the chemist waiting for me. I’m rather disorganised) and so sleep doesn’t come as readily. I have to take deep breaths for ages sometimes, to get over. And I awake in the night hearing things that aren’t there. I heard The Woodcarver calling me, one night, plain and loud as day. Another time, I heard my son knocking my door three times, sharply (or was it a burglar? I said that to someone and they laughed. Burglars don’t knock! Oh, hello there, wake up, I’m robbing you blind!) Bounced out of bed. Heart hammering. Called him. He was fast asleep. Was it her ghost? I don’t believe in ghosts, really. Kind of wish I did. She’d be a mischievous one, no doubt. Is it always 5:57am, when I awake? The same time. Time to find your dead child. 

I’m often in the house alone, now. They didn’t want to leave me alone, and there were so many people in the house, for ages. Then all of a sudden, it stopped. And I changed lovers... I changed to the one I’d been in love with for over a year, the one who seemed too young, the one who wasn’t interested. Suddenly he was interested. Well. It wasn’t sudden. It took a few weeks. Seven weeks? The seven week itch? It coincided with when the Scottish lover asked me to stop letting other people come to the house. He wanted me to himself. Which is kind of fair enough, though I knew it wouldn’t last anyway. (People coming to my house, I mean, not the relationship. I really enjoyed having a relationship with him. He is very sweet, funny, intelligent, and kind. The sex was great. He can cook wonderful food and play guitar well. I liked to sing with him. I am ashamed to say I was bothered by his being smaller than me, though. His face tended to itch me, too- he never quite grew a beard long enough to stop that. As he kept shaving it off, not because he couldn’t. That was the first time he kind of annoyed me, though.)

Lockdown doesn’t help, of course. We were all breaking rules in our grief. Covid is cancelled, my mother said. Masks off. Hugs all round. A friend told me you need extra oxytocin when you’re grieving. I was getting plenty of it. Good grief... 

Now I am frequently alone, and as my new lover is very busy studying (or perhaps less interested in me again now that he has my attention back? Though his reticence in getting with me stemmed from his concerns about the uneven nature of our interest in each other...) I haven’t seen him all week. I feel myself becoming depressed, and withdrawn, and paranoid, yet I still don't feel particularly sad about my daughter’s death. Which is strange. Isn’t it? Here is the email I received from her school this morning (it had her name and class at the top of the email): 

“Good morning

I hope this email finds you all well.

A number of years ago I signed the college up to the campaign against period poverty. I receive and distribute sanitary products to girls, primarily on free school meals, but any who are in need of the products and either can’t afford them or it is difficult to get them. The products are normally distributed by myself, during P.E and games, unfortunately this can’t happen at present.

These products are still available during the school closure. If you wish to avail of them, please contact our school info account (which is only read by one member of office staff) your request will be directed to me and I will contact you directly regarding collection.

These are difficult times for many at present and to quote my favourite supermarket, ‘every little helps’.

Kind regards...”

I was really with her until she quoted Tesco. And said they were her favourite!! Ugh! I mean, it really is a great idea. Though they really should check if the people they are writing about are still capable of bleeding. My heart bleeds....

I replied thus:

“Hello there.

Great idea, but as (my youngest daughter) has died, she won't be needing them any more. I hate Tesco- they ruin many little businesses.

Maybe take me off this mailing list?”

Then I attached one of her seven suicide notes: the one for school. Which I had previously not shown them. I only found it on Christmas Eve. Can I attach it, here? It has no names... 

There we are. Is it wrong of me to find her notes amusing? She is so angry, people say. I wonder how much of it is literal, and how much of it is using the school as a big nameless scapegoat. She was funny in the rest of them, too, and very loving. I found them comforting, like a fucked up Christmas present.

Then I started reading articles about suicide, and they were about how we shouldn’t call the people who do it selfish, about how depressed they are, how they need pity, not anger. I’m tired of the pity (though I’m not the suicidal one). I’m not producing enough sadness from myself when people pity me, either. Where is my sadness? Am I too acceptant of it all? We are all going to die. Is suicide like a C-section? Is it cheating death, like I thought my Caesareans cheated birth? Is suicide self euthanasia? Why do I not miss my daughter more? Is it because she had already left? Was she released, happy, free as a bird, swooping away on an Awfully Big Adventure? Trapezing her way into the æther? I googled to see if I could find any positive reactions to suicide. Is this my nature, to try and find the good in everything? To try and make light of the horrific? Is everything a joke to me? 

I found this blog post, from Andreas Moser.

I love it. Am I trying to take the blame away from myself? The NHS? The school? Should I be reeling and railing against the systems that let my daughter get into that state? Why am I instead trying to find ways to applaud her behaviour, accept it, even enjoy it?! When I read his words, “I admire their courage (because logical as it may be, it’s not easy) and the determination to make the ultimate decision in life oneself.” I felt a strange sensation of relief, that someone else could think those things. I had been thinking them, but trying not to, because it seemed like such an awful thing to think. But then I think, why does anyone else have to be to blame? It was her decision. 

The book I was rereading is called Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson. It’s my favourite book, I have decided, for now. Do favourites stay favourites? I was looking at my old Couchsurfing Profile today (because of Andreas’ blog- he, as a hippy hermit, is, of course, on Couchsurfing). One needs to update these every so often. Explain that you have watched another film in the last twenty years, that there is one less sofa in your living room, one less child on your earth. Even though no-one is allowed to move around, really. No visiting. No exploring. Perhaps she killed herself to escape the boredom. 

In Life After Life, the main character, Ursula, lives again and again. (I forgot that to live again and again, she had to die again and again. It's a very sad and graphic book, spanning two wars- read it. It is, ultimately, uplifting.) I wanted to read it again to make my daughter live again, and again. We need to write her alive. Show her drawings and paintings. Listen to her songs (they're hilarious). Read her poems. Admire her photographs. Tell the stories of her antics.

I know that really she was actually depressed and withdrawn. I know it isn’t a glorious escape. That her wee head was broken, and that sometimes it’s just easier to say, it was unfixable, she was determined, this is what she wanted, than to contemplate it as my (or anyone else’s) failure to help her. I know that she used to be confident and gregarious. She would have danced in front of people, inspiring others. She was always upside-down, tumbling, twirling, cartwheeling. She had a dry, cheeky wit, and rather an amusing obsession with poo and wee. She was kind, and wise. She liked to bake vegan treats. She could draw, and paint, and sing so beautifully. She played the ukelele, but by then she was hiding away. She had started to write poems- songs? She wouldn’t show us them. We had to beg her to perform on the trapeze for her Granny’s eightieth, in July. She did so, beautifully, but you could tell she hated the attention. Four months later, she hanged herself on it. 

Had we all withdrawn into ourselves, this 2020? Was there really nothing else to do? Yet I remember the start of Lockdown seeming idyllic. All that free time, all that sunshine. Was I just trying to convince myself, as usual? The only people we saw were the Woodcarver and the neighbours. She taught the wee boy next door to ride his unicycle. When she died, he brought in a picture he had drawn, of them on their unicycles, she as an angel above herself, a rainbow arcing over the three figures. His sadness affected me. I felt like I could only be sad through other people. Where is my sadness? Where is my grief? Good grief, bad grief, no grief? Alternatives to grief.

[identityexcavationstation]

The High Fidelity Remake is Good and my Identity is Irreversibly Linked to Music Consumption

Hi! So, I’m kinda insane about playlists.

This year I’ve made a lot of them. They’ve been short and snappy on index cards, scanned and pasted in a book and uploaded to the internet. (I’ve really fallen in love with index card playlists and they’re my thing now and I think everyone should do them always and forever.) They were easy to churn out as a retrospective exercise because the music I listened to as a teenager really defined my high school experience. Also, I have most of my favorite songs from that period in a very dramatic playlist I started in 2014 so it was really a game of copy-and-paste. 

Making these smol boys in batches has been a really peculiar experience because for years now, I’ve only made one playlist at a time. In my second semester of college, I’d officially burned myself out listening to only CHVRCHES for three months and began venturing elsewhere. (Don’t get me wrong, CHVRCHES absolutely bangs, but you can only listen to “Never Ending Circles” so many times before getting seasick.) All of the random songs I was listening to made me feel kinda hazy and purple, like I’d done all of this before. So I made a playlist full of them and called it “Deja Vu.”

I added to it all semester, and then suddenly it was summer and I didn’t feel purple and hazy anymore⁠—everything was blue and crisp on the way to South Haven as my friend blasted “Settle Down” by Kimbra in her beat-up Honda. So I started a new playlist and named it the first word that popped into my head: “Roots.”

Using Deja Vu as a rubric, I developed some ground rules for the playlists I would go on to create. They are pretty nonsensical but also exceedingly firm because if I don’t make rules for every area of my life I feel like I’m falling into a deep and limitless void. Health! Anyway, the rules are:

The playlist’s title has to be a short noun (seven letters maximum).

This has since transformed into a noun that is also a verb.

To generate a title, I ask myself what short word I would use to describe the phase of life I’m currently in. The answer comes quickly and reflexively, and I choose the very first word I think of.

One song per artist, no repeats!

Exceptions are made for artists who are featured on a track.

There have been times when I’ve obsessively listened to a whole album or an artist’s entire discography, so I have to choose just one song that represents the very best of that album or artist.

Tracks are added chronologically, based on when I first hear them and/or start listening to them compulsively.

The playlist has to contain an amount of tracks that is divisible by five.

If a song in a playlist is deleted from Spotify, I have to find a replacement asap that is accurate to what I was listening to when that playlist was being created.

and, most importantly, 

I can’t make a new playlist until I feel I’m finished with the current one.

These playlists represent seasons of my life, cycles in which I change and evolve and stagnate and fuck up and try again. The only rule I have for beginning a new playlist is that I feel done with the current one—those songs are a little stale and don’t represent me anymore. These “seasons” don’t have any set length, and I can never predict when I’ll feel like a new being who needs new songs to define her. So far, my life has looked like this:

Deja Vu - 176 days (12.03.16 - 05.28.17) Most common lyrics: now, love, time, need, take

snow that covers ivy that covers bricks, towers made from dining hall dishes, smiling at the bus stop without knowing, sheet masks in the dorm bathroom at 2am, pink string lights and pink crocheted blankets and pink shag carpeting, cheap beer behind tarps and walking everyone home

Roots - 111 days (05.28.17 - 09.16.17)  Most common lyrics: love, one, give, wanna, know

t-shirt tan lines, mozzarella and tomato and basil and singed spaghetti, sunset walks around abandoned high schools, green leaves outlined in watercolor, the smell of mildew and old paper in banker’s boxes, sweat-soaked french braids, the knife twist of eye contact, tarot readings under lamplight

Walls - 110 days (09.16.17 - 01.04.18)   Most common lyrics: wanna, know, baby, take, feel

crying in the gender-neutral restroom, pretty boys holding guitars or rolling rock, photos in the forest, blue carpeting and lofted bedframes, pitch-black bonfires, sitting in the dining hall to just watch the people pass, snow on eyelashes in large wet clumps, laughing at lies

Bite - 78 days (01.04.18 - 03.23.18)    Most common lyrics: know, love, stay, come, need

impatience at the airport, texting on the laundry room floor, nervous night drives, five grilled cheese sandwiches, acne like freckles, ceiling photos taken in secret, watercolor lines and paper houses, broken glass on the sidewalk, ink-stained forearms, notebook paper comics, writing small on basement walls

Windows - 131 days (03.23.18 - 08.01.18)   Most common lyrics: love, now, know, baby, fall

books piled up by the bed, rum and coke and orange juice and vodka and cheap white wine, rainy day night walks, streetlights turning the leaves orange, echoes from the party upstairs, solo trips to the grocery store, always leaving the blinds open, aperol and chai lattes and smørrebrød, never coming home

Grip - 136 days (08.01.18 - 12.15.18)    Most common lyrics: know, boy, lost, girl, night

read receipts, the creaking of an empty house, sand and bricks and traffic cones, sitting on the curb and shaking, applause at dinner, bubble tea, bike rides in torn jeans, mr brightside blasting at 10am, doodles during lectures, embroidery at the kitchen table, blue bus panic attacks, half an apple for lunch

Wait - 117 days (12.15.18 - 04.11.19)  Most common lyrics: heart, want, one, back, know

crying in the lobby, measuring oats by the quarter cup, drunken voice memos, shoes on power lines, another bowl of granola, reading all the lyrics, photos taken with the flash on, sleeping on strange couches, shoeboxes full of photographs, wire catching the sunlight, fifteen minutes of windchill

Wave - 108 days (04.11.19 - 07.28.19)  Most common lyrics: wanna, know, now, love, come

dancing on the porch, reading on the roof, tipsy trips to the corner store, silent heavy parlor air, chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, barred windows and string lights and exit signs, highlighting the important parts, nails tapping on wooden tables, wet wind before the storm, biking straight into the smoke

Home - 178 days (07.28.19 - 01.22.20)   Most common lyrics: down, know, now, wanna, think

steep downhill walks, fingertips covered in graphite and lead, blank faces on green walls, forest walkways, hands gripping thighs too tightly, light leaks in darkrooms, the handwriting of strangers, chains trapped between teeth, white words left unread, twirling at the tennis court, yellow becoming blue

Hand - 63 days (01.22.20 - 03.25.20)   Most common lyrics: know, time, love, die, back

masking tape messages, laughing four shots in, BiC .07mm HB mechanical pencils slipped into coat cuffs, cheeks blushed with red ink, green floodlights and kissed knuckles, windows fogged from the inside, falling asleep with earbuds in, finger guns and everything in boxes, wedging open locked doors

_______________________________________________________________________

It’s interesting to look back at these playlists altogether, see them as self-contained units, little stories I tell about myself, about the people I used to be. Adding a song to one of these playlists was like making a vow, entering a relationship with a collection of sounds. It’s like I was saying “this song is now a part of me.” I constructed this little world for myself in the space between my ears, and it, in turn, created me.

I really mean it when I say that the first word that floats to the front of my mind becomes the title of whatever playlist I’m making. I never question what the word means, and its meaning always ends up describing that season of my life. 

“Roots” became a period of reconnecting with essential pieces of myself I thought I had abandoned. 

During “Grip,” I was holding on so tightly to things that had left me ages ago, and I think I knew that, even if I was unable to admit it to myself. 

“Wait” revealed itself in two ways: it was a time in which 1.) I felt stagnant and restless, unable to be patient, and 2.) I was forced to grasp with a physical and emotional weight that had been bearing down on me. 

The mind is a magical thing—it processes what we refuse to recognize. 

Speaking of which, these playlist covers have been driving me up the wall for ages. They’re like nails on a freaking chalkboard for my synesthesia. Is “Bite” a heavily blue playlist? Sure. But is “Home” purple? Is “Grip” pink??? I think the fuck not! 

(I could do a whole goddamn blog post on synesthesia, and I might.)

Now that I know how to switch out playlist cover art (can you believe it’s taken me this long to figure out how to do that?), I have decided to issue myself a challenge/project/way to procrastinate actual work I have to do. 

I’d like to make a piece of cover art for all of the above playlists. And because I am, to reiterate, insane, I’m setting up some Rules For Creation:

All works must be the same size, on the same type of paper using similar materials (tbd but probably graphite, colored pencil, watercolor, fineliners, and/or collage).

The preliminary sketch for each cover must be created while listening to the playlist.

Each piece can (must?) incorporate the five most common lyrics as listed above because goddammit I did not spend four hours compiling lyrics in a web-based word cloud generator for nothing.

If I’m not having fun, I won’t make myself do it because this is literally just for laffs. 

Anyway, I’m looking forward to creating some fun weird art! I know nobody is gonna read this and nobody is gonna comment but if, by some miracle, you feel like it, comment a playlist you’ve made that you’re really proud of! Or comment if you have some weird playlist rules! Or cyberbully me! Anything’s fair game. 

TL;DR playlists are fun and I’m a maniac :)

[olivewritessometimes]

Okay, so, I had to start my blog at some point...

and after procrastinating for around a month, I decided to release my first fic on Lance’s birthday. (Probably not the best idea since it’s filled with angst and is from Keith’s point of view.) Also, why not a bit of Klance to start us off, right?

Enjoy!

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2.7K Words

Warning: Mentions of Self-Harm, Swearing

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  As a member of the Blade of Marmora, Keith was able to visit many places, even if he couldn't call any of them home. 

  His favourite places included Arus, where his adventure with Voltron and the Lions began.

  It also included Olkaria, the new planet inhabited by the Olkari, after Olkarion was destroyed.

  There was also the new Daibazaal and the new Altea, which had been recreated after the entire ‘Honerva’s realities’ ordeal a few years ago.

  But his favourite place to visit, by far, had to be Earth.

  He enjoyed visiting his old shack in the desert, the only place he knew for a very long time.

  He liked to visit the Garrison, to see how the Holts and the rest of the staff were doing.

  He would also drop in to see Shiro. He was like a brother to him, so he insisted that Keith should come over every time he came back to Earth.

  And, although he would never admit it, he particularly liked going to see the McClain family farm, for reasons you can guess.

  A knock on the door announced his arrival.

  “Oh, good afternoon, Keith,” answered Mrs. McClain. “Lance is in his room. Please, come inside.”

  Keith nodded, and stepped through the door.

  This wasn’t any different from what normally happened when he came to visit, so he knew what to expect.

  “Keith! Keith!” yelled the child stampede from down the hall.

  As expected, they came roaring down the hall, jumping up and down, demanding to know what super-cool alien adventures he had been on since the last time he’d seen them.

  “Not really anything exciting, unless you count the giant Weblum that tried to swallow us whole!” Keith said, in an attempt to tell a story to impress them.

  “A Weblum?” “How’d you get away?” “Did he eat you?” came some questions from the kids.

  Keith had gotten better at socializing with children since he started visiting the McClains more often. 

  There were only a few simple rules to it. One, don’t make them upset. Two, keep them happy and they’ll love you. Three, don’t reject that love.

  “Yeah, it was no big deal. It only crushed about half the Marmoran fleets,” he continued, knowing that the cliffhanger would make them want to hear the whole story.

  Obviously, there was no Weblum that tried to swallow them whole, or crushed half their fleets, but kids love a good story, so Keith sat down at the kitchen table and began his tale.

  “So there I was, leaving a planet suffering from a drought after supplying them with enough water for a year, when all of a sudden, Wham! A Weblum comes out of nowhere, catches two ships in its mouth, and not three seconds later, they’re gone into the Weblum’s stomach.

  “I yell at the other ships to get away as fast as possible, but it's already right in front of us, grabbing every one who came too close. I swerve left, then right, and then left again, to try to get away, but then it catches around five ships in its mouth, eats them, then bites down on the wing of my ship.

  "I jiggle the controls to try to get away, but it's too late! The Weblum has me in its jaws, and it looks to be the end! I'm about to give up hope, when suddenly, the wing of my ship snaps off, so now at least I'm free from the Weblum, but I'm running out of oxygen in my ship."

  As he continued to tell the story, making it as dramatic as possible, he was so caught up in the adventure that he didn't even notice when Lance emerged from his room, saw Keith, and leaned against the wall to listen in as well.

  He was reaching the end of the story, where he ended up hitching a ride with another ship for transport back to Earth, when Lance finally spoke up.

  "You know, I don't think Weblums are that vicious." 

  Lance stood up from the wall and walked into the kitchen, as he continued. "From what I remember, they would only do that if they didn't even know you were there."

  "How do you know?" challenged Keith. "Did you ever have to collect scaultrite from its third stomach?"

  “Well how do you know that it was attacking you when you went to collect it?” Lance retorted. “It could’ve just thought you were a piece of rubble or something.”

  “Well how do you know that it didn’t know that I was a Paladin of Voltron, and that it wasn’t trying to kill me?”

  This banter went on for a while, until Lance’s niece, Nadia, started a little game.

  “Raaah! I’m a Weblum, and I’m going to eat you!” she yelled, chasing the other kids around.

  As Mrs. McClain shooed them out of the house, in fear they would break something, Lance mentioned something about feeding the chickens and walked outside.

  Keith let out a sigh of relief once Lance was out of earshot.

  He had refused to let anyone know that his admiration for Lance was more than simply being proud of him for helping him save all of the possible realities.

  Not even Lance himself.

  Shiro has known that he had a crush on one of the Paladins, and encouraged him to try to talk to them about it, but Keith assumes that he guessed it was Allura, since he stopped after she'd gotten with Lance.

  After that happened, Keith continued pining, but he'd started to lose hope, since Lance had been in love with Allura since they first met, and wouldn't be quick to break up with her.

  Not that they would ever have broken up, Lance was a nice guy, and Allura would never have wanted to leave him.

  After she died, part of Keith realized that Lance was now single, and for the taking, but he didn't act on it. That would be too cruel.

  Instead, he chose to comfort him, and try not to let his feelings for him get in the way.

  Which he was succeeding at, for the most part.

  He was snapped from his thoughts when Mrs. McClain walked back inside.

  “Would you like to stay the night? We live a while away from any hotels, and it’s getting late,” she offered.

  Keith looked at the clock on the wall, and noticed that it was too late for him to start heading back.

  He accepted, and she showed him the guest room, and let him know that dinner would be ready soon.

  He walked outside, since it was still light out, and sat down by the roots of a large oak, enjoying the view.

  He'd be lying if he said that he was looking at the rolling hills, and the flowers that cover them. 

  He also wouldn't really like to admit that the view he was enjoying involved Lance, the chickens, and the difference between him here and him on the battlefield.

  The Lance he knew as a Paladin of Voltron was a ruthless, self-sacrificing, adrenaline-loving sharpshooter, a warrior in his own respects.

  The Lance he saw here was a simple, kind man, who would maybe hurt a fly, but only if it was bothering him. 

  Lance's sister, Veronica, just so happened to notice the exact direction Keith's eyes were looking, and sat next to him.

  "Lance, huh?"

  Keith looked up, startled, then a confused look made its way onto his face.

  “What do you mean, ‘Lance, huh?’” Keith asked.

  “Well, I knew you weren’t coming just to say hi, you come over way too often for that. So I assumed you maybe like liked someone who lives here. I also guessed Lance, but it’s nice to have something to confirm it,” explained Veronica.

  “So, you were just making sure that you were right about guessing which McClain I like.”

  “Yep!” She exclaimed, popping the P.

  He rolled his eyes, before realizing that Veronica was the exact person he did not want knowing about it.

  “Oh my god, please don’t tell him. Quiznak, that’ll be awkward,” he pleaded, before realizing what he said.

  “Christ, I’ve got to get out of the habit of saying that!” He laughed, and Veronica gave a small giggle as well.

  She was about to continue when they heard Mrs. McClain yelling to anyone outside that dinner was ready, and to get it while it was hot.

  Veronica stood up, and as she helped Keith up, said, “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  They walked inside, and headed to the dining room, where Mrs. McClain offered Keith a chair almost at the end of the table, seated between Lance and Veronica.

   Needless to say, it was a very awkward night for Keith.

 Later that night, Keith woke up with a dry throat, so he got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

  As he walked down the hallway of bedroom doors, he heard an odd noise coming from behind one.

  Not wanting to wake whoever was inside, he put his ear to the door to see if he could hear it better.

  It might have been the door muffling the sound, but Keith could have sworn that it sounded like someone crying.

  He didn’t know who it was, because he’d never slept over before, and didn’t know whose bedroom was whose.

  Keith then heard footsteps, accompanying the sobs, heading towards the door.

  He hid behind the door as it opened, not wanting to be seen.

  As the door closed, he could see that the one crying was Lance, but Keith didn’t stop him. He wanted to know why Lance was so upset at this time of night.

  Lance shuffled into the kitchen, still sniffling, and opened a drawer.

  Keith then knew that he had to do something when he realized that the object that Lance was pulling out was a knife.

  As Lance set the blade to his wrist, Keith put his hand on his shoulder.

  Lance gasped, dropped the knife onto the counter, and turned around, shocked.

  “Oh, i-it’s only you,” he said between sniffles. 

  “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

  He went to wipe away his tears, when Keith grabbed his wrist.

  For the first time, he noticed the scars.

  “Lance, it’s one in the morning. What’s wrong?” He asked.

  Lance’s eyes welled up, and before he could stop himself, he burst into tears and collapsed in Keith’s arms.

  Keith wasn’t expecting the added weight Lance was pushing onto him, so he ended up falling to the floor, not even minding the pain when he hit. Only taking caution that Lance didn’t hurt himself.

  “I miss her. There was so much more she could’ve done for the universe,” he said through choked sobs.

  It didn’t take much effort to tell he was talking about Allura.

  “I just can’t help but think that there was another way,” he continued. 

  “So that she might be here today, and that we might have started a life together, and that we might even have had kids, who would have grown up safe and happy, with everything they’d ever need, but she’s not. She’s-” he cut himself off, and buried his face in Keith’s shirt, weeping.

  Keith wasn’t really the kind of person who was best at this, but he was going to try his best for Lance.

  He didn’t really know what to say, so he started by trying to calm him down by running his hand through his hair.

  After a few minutes, Lance did start to calm down, and eventually started to lean into the touch.

  “I know Allura’s not here now, but I think that what she did was very noble. She sacrificed her own life so all of humanity could live. So you could live,” he tried.

  “She gave her Quintessence to bring the dead realities back to life, so if you think about it, her life force is inside every living creature in the universe, and even those in other realities. Including you.”

  Lance looked up, and it was all Keith could do to focus on calming Lance and not lose himself in those adorable eyes of his.

  “So when someone says that she’ll always be with you, they’re not wrong. Her life energy is what’s keeping us here today, so she’s technically still with us. Just not in the form of a body.”

  Lance was considerably less upset now, and other than how his eyes were still red, you could hardly tell he was crying at all.

  “Thanks, man.”

  He got up and put the knife away, which reminded Keith of something else he was wondering.

  “How long have you been doing that?” He asked as he stood. “Cutting yourself.”

  Lance rubbed the back of his neck and shyly answered. 

  “I started doing it while I was in the Garrison. Sometimes, the shouting from Iverson, the teasing from the other kids, it was too much. Hunk was the one who helped me quit, after it became a habit.”

  Keith was in awe at how young he must have been when he started.

  Lance continued. “On the Castle of Lions, there were loads of missions that went wrong, and like half the time I thought it was because of me. Whenever I was yelled at because of it, add that to some self-esteem issues, and you get the urge to slice your skin open because that pain will distract you from the mental pain.”

  He was about to go on when Keith interrupted.

  “Woah, woah, woah, self-esteem issues? What else have you been going through?”

  “Ah, well, there was the One Paladin Too Many issue, and it got me wondering, am I really needed on the team?” Lance explained. 

  “Just about anyone with good aim can use a gun, but you could probably find a more serious, sensible person to do it, rather than someone who’s just a goofball.

  “I knew you could replace me just like that, so I thought it was only a matter of time until the title of Sharpshooter went to someone else.”

  “Lance, no one ever thought that about you,” Keith reassured. “Your jokes were exactly what we needed to keep our spirits lifted, and we would be lost without you.”

  “But was that all I was good for? Comedic relief?” Lance retorted, tears starting to fall down his cheeks again. “Did you only keep me on the team for my jokes? For someone to laugh at? It's kind of the only thing I'm good at, might as well have been useful for something."

  "Lance-"

  "I'm a shitty pilot, the only weapon I can use is the easiest one to use, and I only ended up dating Allura for a few months before she died, because my stupid ass couldn't make a fucking move! If I can't even ask a girl out over the span of a few fucking years, then what-"

  He was cut off by Keith's lips on his own.

  Lance didn't register what was happening at first, but once he did, he relaxed, and seemed to melt under him.

  Keith pulled away with a soft smile, thinking of how long he'd been waiting to do that. 

  Keith knew his mind must be racing with anger, sadness, confusion, and everything in between, so he took Lance’s hand in his own. 

  “You need to stop. You’re hurting yourself, and you think that you’re fine on your own. Well, you’re not. You’re keeping this a secret from your family, your friends, everyone, when really, you should have come to us in the first place,” he explained.

  “We’ll always be here for you. I’ll be here for you. Just talk to us, we’ll-”

  He was cut off by Lance launching himself onto Keith, pressing their lips together.

  Keith didn’t even realize what was happening until he felt Lance’s hand holding his, fingers intertwining like magic.

  Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around him, finding a position in the small of his back.

  They stood there for a few seconds, then Lance slowly pulled away.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  He rested his head on Keith's shoulder, and he started stroking his hair again.

  At that moment, Keith finally knew where his home was.