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fallingoverharrypotter · 3 years ago

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Torn a New One

This is based on the @drarrymicrofic prompt for pretend, and got very long. Heres the ao3 link :).

The shirt is supposed to make Harry look like that one Bratz doll meme; you know the one.

Thanks for reading <3 <3

Harry is a stoic man. That’s what Hermione calls him.

He’s sitting on Ron’s plush carpeted floors in his shiny new flat. Ron himself is passed out on a couch that costs more galleons than a year of Hermione’s tuition, with Hermione herself teetering on the edge of both her couch and hers and Ron’s refusal to bring up that they’re still fucking on the side of their tumultuous breakup. She brings up Harry’s problems to distract herself, and Harry tells her not to bother. Harry also tells her that she and Ron should just own up to their idiocy and sort their crap out sooner rather than later, and then Hermione yells loud enough to wake Ron with: Harry James Potter, you’re a complete and utter hypocrite. Ron does wake up when their voices raise like this, and then cordons Hermione off to the main bedroom leaving Harry to pretend that he’ll floo home, before the three of them end up eating cereal whilst sitting at/on Ron’s granite countertops the next morning.

All three look a right picture. Hermione is staunchly refusing to acknowledge that she’s wearing a t-shirt of Ron’s – old Canon’s merch that she’s absolutely swimming in. Harry, in solidarity, is also wearing one of Ron’s shirts without pants – the newest Wheezes rollout collection, classic stylized lettering (Ron’s got this beautiful flat because every single Witch and Wizard between the ages of 14 and 37 owns Wheezes now). And Ron himself is shirtless and in nothing but underwear.

They’ve seen more of each other than is completely normal over the last 15 years, but they’re still indulgent enough not to bring up any of the shit they refuse to talk about. They need a balancing force, Harry often thinks, someone who is outrightly honest and refuses the stupid little games that the golden trio fall into to avoid talking about their true feelings. That’s what Harry thinks inside his head, but his body ends up groaning and bending forward so his forehead smacks the countertops none too gently. His consciousness sounds more and more like someone he refuses to think about whenever he’s been drinking. Merlin save him.

“Oi,” Ron admonishes without looking up from his bowl. He’s leaning atop the counter on forearms and staring into his cereal, swirling the spoon around the stodgy mess and eating no longer.

Harry grunts first, and then says “gonna sick up, Ronnykins?” and gets glared at by Hermione who is onto her third bowl of cereal at this point. Right. Can’t joke about Lavender either, apparently. That fling definitely didn’t help the dynamic, Harry reminds himself.

“Jus’ don’t wan’ you bruising my bench with your fat head.”

Harry kicks out at Ron with his closest foot and makes contact, gets an immediate groan for his efforts, before Ron’s pulling up from his slouch and getting Harry into a pretty tight headlock. Harry resorts to elbowing Ron in the gut over and over. Ron groans and releases, making a mad dash for the fancy powder room into which he projectiles.

Hermione, for all she looks dazed and noncommittal this early into a hangover, manages to give off an air of created aloofness about the violent noises coming from down the hall. Harry smirks at her, and gets his own kick in response that makes him exclaim “ow, fuck. You two are so bloody violent.”

Before she responds, there’s a tapping at the window. Owl. Hermione stares at Harry to let him know that there’s no way she’s moving from her lounging for the bloody post, so Harry straightens up to open the window for the tawny. Efficient things these post owls are this morning; just drops the paper on the countertop near Harry’s bowl before flying right out the window without even waiting for a treat.

Harry’s shaking his head to brush away the last fuzz of the evening with the assistance of the scent of fresh air. Hermione gasps out loud. That makes Harry turn around quick enough for whiplash, and then he wishes fervently for death by sustained head trauma when the figure on the front of the paper, unfurled and sepia, winks right at him.

“Fuck,” Harry says. His gut churns, and then he’s running down the hall, past the occupied powder room to Ron’s master bath, and vomits up his guts.

***

Ron’s back in the kitchen by the time that Harry stumbles back in. Three strong cups of tea are quick-brewing under Hermione’s wand, even though both her and Ron’s attention is maintained by the Prophet’s front page. Because that is Draco Malfoy wearing a Wheezes “I shagged Harry Potter and all I got was this stupid shirt” collectable.

“It’s ironic!” Ron and George had insisted on its’ inception 4 years back. Only 100 had been made, a necessity: scarcity is key. They resell for a lot of money these days. Harry would rather die than see another in person. His face, a terrible photo of him caught by photographers during a pretty brutal night out, is plastered right on the middle along with stylized fireworks that go off every couple of minutes. He’d been convinced into making them, to try and control the narrative or whatever bullshit the Weasley’s had spouted just a couple of days beforehand when Harry had started stomping around the burrow or the floor of the joke shop or Hermione and Ron’s old shoebox apartment in anguish. It worked, he guesses, and he doesn’t see many of them anymore, as they’re kept in the strongest of imperturbable charms and modified protegos by anyone lucky enough to get one. But this one. This one he didn’t know about.

Hermione’s been muttering to herself as she read the accompanying story, when her voice perks up. “Merlin, listen to this: ‘this intrepid reporter asked what I’m certain all our readership will be most curious to uncover now that we are sitting down with the one and only Draco Malfoy. When we had sat down in Mr. Malfoy’s beautifully appointed drawing room, I too was especially shocked at his choice of attire,’” Hermione pauses here to roll her eyes and mutter “oh here we go,” before continuing in a higher and haughtier voice. “‘We all know the poise that Mr. Malfoy holds, one of Wizarding Britain’s most darling Stars, his performance in Wizarding Wireless serials having taken our world by storm the past 6 years. I must myself mention the serialisation of the modern take on the Wizarding classic story of Millicent Mimbletonia’s Marvelous Manor; captured this reporter’s heart, it did.’ What a load of absolute nonsense.”

“Oh, come on, Herm,” Ron says and knocks into her arm to get her to continue the story.

“Fine, but this is all absolute tripe. What was Draco thinking! Okay. Blah blah blah, you can’t believe how long this person goes on about Draco’s drawing room, blah. Okay here. ‘On questioning Mr. Malfoy’s choice to wear the now famously collectible Wheezes’ Harry Potter shirt, the gentleman seems to look slightly pensive.’

“‘‘Monsieur,’ our Star addresses me, ‘when you have been in the business of telling stories for as long as I, you start to have a great fondness for truth. I must now admit to you, and all of your lovely readers, that I bought this shirt on release and whilst under Polyjuice��. Now readers, you must bear with Mr. Malfoy here. Yours truly was very shocked-’ Good God, can this man obfuscate. Okay, then Draco says, ‘‘I’ve kept my ownership of such an item close to my chest, and away from my closest relationships. I have found over the years that true mutual affection, friendship, and love, have foundations built on beds of uncertainty and trust simultaneously, and thus I was afraid to expose myself.’ I but in here and ask what we must all be thinking at this admission: is he such a big fan of our Saviour that he is ashamed? But Mr. Malfoy continues: ‘No, monsieur. In all honesty, I am the man’s biggest critic.’’” Harry ducks his head, his hands shaking as he reaches for the now over-brewed tea.

Hermione looks up at Harry and Ron with wide eyes. Ron looks back at her wide eyed too, glancing small looks at Harry every now and again when he finds something particularly salacious, but he says nothing. Harry is hiding his trembling hands and trembling mouth behind a blisteringly hot cup of tea. She receives no objections, and continues. “‘‘I am livid that he’s been out of the public eye for so long regardless of his exceptional ability to bring about change in those around him; Potter has worked the same archival job in the Ministry for 5 years, with no end in sight, I fear. He refuses to allow those outside of his closest friends and family to know him in any sense, and I would argue that this is truly detrimental to his relationship with the Wizarding community. Although I disagree with the man on many things, I will be the first to say here and now that if any person deserves privacy, it is him. But the relationships we build with those we love-’’” and Harry snatches the paper out of Hermione’s hands.

“Harry,” Ron starts, reaching out a hand and grasping his upper arm. Hermione too has hopped down off the counter and is crowding Harry’s other side. He wants to shake them off, but he can’t. He can’t stop looking at the paper in his hands with Draco’s figure. Draco’s white blond head of hair turned beige on paper, his eyes sharp and flirty to readers, his hands restlessly gripping at his shirt. The shirt with Harry’s face.

Harry is a stoic man. Hermione tells him that exactly, Ron tells him that adjacently, and Draco. Draco has said the same thing in so many ways and at so many times that Harry has had it drilled into his head. His eyes are watering now, a little. And he can’t read much more of the article, but he doesn’t really need to. Because Draco will skate around enough of his personal life that it seems as though he’s come clean about something when he’s actually just marketing his next serial; it’s what he does.

This time, though, he’s wearing one of those terrible shirts that almost single-handedly sparked the Wheezes fashion line and bought Ron this apartment, and he’s saying things here that Harry knows are true. Knows are directed right at Harry. Knows because a week ago Harry had walked right out of Draco’s “well-appointed” drawing room, slamming the door and not answering the following owls. Harry hasn’t slept at his own sparse flat for a week. He’s spent time at Ron’s, spent time at Hermione’s, spent time at the Burrow. He’s even spent time in the dark halls of Grimmauld, which he hasn’t wanted to touch for years, no matter how many people around him shared their opinions on it being the perfect. Home. One day.

They’re standing there, the three of them, when a knock sounds on Ron’s front door. Harry freezes, but Ron staggers out into the hallway, still in nothing but underwear.

“Sweet Merlin, Weasley, could you put on some bloody pants? You do know it’s ten o’clock?” Says the visitor, and Harry just lets his back go limp, setting out to truly bruise Ron’s beautiful granite countertops with his forehead once again. He can hear Ron sarcastically mumble something along the lines of ‘yes Malfoy, of course you can come in’. Hermione grips his arm slightly in sympathy, but turns to face the entrance to the kitchen anyway. Like a traitor.

“Hermione, lovely as always. I see the three of you are in similar states of distressed undress this morning. Have you finally succumbed to your polyamorous destiny?”

“Nice to see you too, Draco. Lovely article.”

“Thank you. Do you like the shirt, too? Catches a sweet mint in resale these days.”

“You don’t say…”

“Yes, yes. Now, Harry, please pick yourself up off of the place we civilised people prepare our food.”

Harry groans into the cool surface, but can’t stop himself from responding. It’s a natural reaction to the bullshit that comes out of Draco’s mouth most times. “If you’ve ever made a meal by yourself in your life, I’ll eat the countertop.”

“Harry,” his voice is menacing, and his footsteps are getting closer, “I’m not civilised.” And at that Draco grabs Harry by the shoulder and turns up around and back up against the counter top with not a small amount of force.

Harry’s reply comes out breathless from the impact. “You said ‘we’.”

“It was a universal ‘we’.” Draco says this through gritted teeth. His blond eyebrows are sitting right on top of his grey eyes and they scream murder louder than they’ve ever done before, which is saying something since Draco was once a Death Eater, no matter what the admiring general Wizarding public would like to remember.

Harry doesn’t have a retort prepared, per se. It would be a more concise comment on how Draco hadn’t taken a single English language course his entire life, and what would he know about the universal ‘we’, but Harry meets Draco’s eyes and he’s a bit lost. A week of blanket non-communication. A bit extreme. Not gone longer than a couple of days without talking for years, have they.

“Cuppa, Draco?” That’s from Ron.

“Yes. Two sugars. Level.”

Ron scoffs, but Draco beats him to it. “Weasley it’s two-level sugars, please, for once, reorient your sense of balance before you spill the entire sugar pot into the cup.”

“Just don’t give him any sugar, Ron. He’s obviously already mental, we don’t want him to go into cardiac arrest.” This from Hermione.

“Uh-”

Draco scoffs before Ron can respond. “Settle down Granger. I’m not going to pretend to like black tea for some sense of superiority like some of us.”

“It’s better for your-”

“You know what’s good for your health?” Draco all but yells and spins around to face Ron and Hermione. Ron, still next to naked, and Hermione drowning in Ron’s clothes. She’s back to sitting on the counter, Ron leaning back next to her. They look like they’ve looked for the past 10 years – drawn to each other, allies, et cetera. Draco huffs. “What’s good for your health is you two sitting down and talking about your absolutely bloody insane coupling. What’s good for your health is not getting blackout drunk every Friday night and ending up sleeping with each other, and then not talking about it, until the next week when you can do it again.”

Ron and Hermione are shifting where they sit, Hermione, looking as though she’s getting herself ready to argue back, and Ron in a more protected position behind his ex-girlfriend. Harry feels a little sorry for them, getting the third degree from Draco when he looks as unhinged as he does now. The Harry on his chest, a mess when the photo was taken, is now looking at them disappointedly like he’s on Draco’s side. Like a magical recreation of a Harry who was in quite an intense meltdown at the time has any right to be “on Draco’s side” about any issues of wellbeing.

Hermione does get the strength to pipe up. “Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy.” But that’s all she can get out. Harry’s pretty sure she’s stumped. Doesn’t have an argument. Draco, Harry knows, has refused to get involved in this situation. Has watched from the side-lines and stewed. Harry’s been all for letting the two of them work their shit out in their own time, but he’s a stoic man, what does he know about all that?

“Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy,” is Draco’s retort, mocking back in a high-pitched squeak that Harry winces at. Hermione was about to hop off the counter, he could see, but Ron’s sudden arm around her waist kept her down. “You two just have to talk about it. So what if Hermione slept with Lavender? You guys weren’t together at the time!”

Hermione splutters, eyes wide, all thoughts of advancing physically on Draco gone. Ron sat eyes wide too, flicking between Draco and Hermione as if waiting for more.

“Wait-” he starts.

Hermione wails “Ron I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I know. It was such a bad thing to do-”

“No wait! You’ve been acting weird because of that?” And Ron looks incredulously at Harry. Harry sends him an incredulous look back, equally as surprised that Draco hit the nail on the head.

“What! You knew?” Hermione is still wailing.

Ron turns fully to face her and wails himself: “Of course I knew! How could I not know! Harry told me! Draco told me! Lavender told me! Hell, a month ago you got so drunk you told me.”

Hermione’s eyes are so wide that Harry’s afraid she’s going to start crying, and he grabs Draco’s arm in shock. Draco tenses all of a sudden and then Harry consciously remembers why he’s not doing that and shrinks back again. Ron and Hermione aren’t really focusing on anything but themselves now, so they don’t notice how Draco turns slowly back to face Harry, backed against the kitchen’s island like he has been since Draco arrived.

“And you, Harry Potter.” Draco pauses, and Harry has time to do a quick pass over. Draco on the front page of the Daily Prophet and Draco in the middle of Ron’s stylish London flat are two very different Draco’s. Quiet, pensive, charming and loveable Draco in the papers. Thoughtful. Friendly. A bloody myth.

This Draco. Angry, flustered, dishevelled, loud. This is the same Draco who, when Harry slipped up the other week – the week when everything changed – went red, went silent, went unresponsive in so many ways. Harry, fresh off the first love confession he’d ever given, so incredibly off the cuff that it had shocked him and scared him, had had to storm out of the apartment, slam the doors behind him, and apparate away to his own flat he barely spends any time in.

He’d slipped up. They’d never even suggested anything romantic between the two of them. They’d been close for a long time at this point and. Feelings. His feelings. They were supposed to be unspoken. He’d been nursing the growing beast of his feelings behind his stupid chest, which was okay as long as they were unspoken. Pretending every day that they weren’t eating at him alive.

Eating at him when he woke up in Draco’s spare room on more mornings than he’d liked to count, early enough before work that they could sit for breakfasts in Draco’s kitchen. And then Harry’s co-workers at the Ministry archives asking him questions about Draco’s new shows or his schedule or his favourite foods. Draco and Harry having dinner with Ron and Hermione at hole in the wall restaurants in the muggle world. Birthdays together; dinners at Draco’s or Ron’s nicer flats; bickering over anything and everything they could get their minds on.

“You hate my job.”

Harry’s eyes bulge open. Did he mean to say that? Sweet Merlin. It was definitely him, and now Draco is staring at him in confused consternation, as if he has to come to terms now that Harry’s gone insane.

Harry doubles down, though. Trusts his subconscious decisions. “Yeah, you hate my job!” he repeats.

“Are,” Draco starts, slowly, “you kidding me.”

He could respond, but Harry just shakes his head instead.

Harry’s thought Draco’s been properly angry this whole time. He was wrong. “I hate your job? Who doesn’t hate your job!” Draco’s arms reach out and grab tightly around Harry’s upper arms. Harry’s not above flexing, just a little. He tells himself it’s to test the grip, but honestly, he’s hoping to distract Draco from the rage.

“It’s not that bad!” Harry repeats, and Draco groans loudly.

“Not that bad? Are you trying to give me a stress induced ulcer?”

“What do you know about stress induced ulcers?” comes a faint response from Hermione.

Draco turns his head, hands still tight around Harry’s biceps, and says “don’t you two have make-up sex to attend to?”

Harry responds. “Ron’s sick.”

Draco glares back at Harry for a second, and then turns back to where Ron and Hermione haven’t moved. “Get out, you’re distracting him from the fight.”

“We’re the emotional support,” and “lame fight” come respectively from Hermione and Ron.

“Oh, that’s rich!” Draco yells in their direction, but Harry’s sure that he’s ignoring Ron’s comment. “Emotional support! You two have let this wanker,” a thumb thrown at Harry from over Draco’s shoulder, “probably crash on your couches rather than forcing him to face me. You’re all as bad as each other.”

“Draco,” Harry feels he has to say, and draws Draco’s attention from his two best friends who definitely have been letting him crash on their couches and had not once tried to force Harry to face his problems. He loves them a hell of a lot.

“Don’t you try to lessen this, Harry Potter.” Harry’s been on the receiving edge of worse glares from Draco, so this one isn’t that bad. Harry’s actually feeling a lot better now that Draco is in the same room as him. Feels his terrible, traitorous heart almost relax. “I’m sick of you three. You’re the worst bloody enablers for each other.”

Harry scoffs. Sure, they’d never force him to do something he didn’t want to, but it’s not like they agree with his decisions all the time.

Draco hears the scoff of course, and gives up on trying to chase the others out of the kitchen. He turns around towards the entrance, faces away from all of them and talks to himself at top volume. “This is what my life has become. The sole source of constructive criticism for the bloody Golden Trio.”

Ron snorts to cover up a laugh.

“I survive working for a fascist dictator, successfully rebuild my image, forge a new path for myself in the world, but I’m here. An overworked, under-rewarded, glorified therapist!”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchange glances. The other two look at Harry in commiseration, but Harry is starting to think that Draco has a bit of a point when he realises that Ron’s arm is still around Hermione’s waist who is leaning right into his side.

“Okay.” Draco takes a deep breath and turns around to face Harry. “Since they’re not leaving, you all get to hear this.” He steps closer. “I hate your job. I hate your flat. I hate that you won’t face up to hard things, and I refuse to be okay with any of that.”

Harry swallows hard.

“People are letting you get away with anything at the moment, and when you told me you loved me, I got scared. Because I thought that I’d become one of those people to you too.”

“That’s not-”

“No.” Draco stops Harry for butting in. “No. We’re not pretending any longer. I love you-” thump goes Harry’s heart in his chest, eyes bulging and smile unable to be stopped “-but sometimes I seriously don’t like you.”

Harry’s smile does dim at that, but only slightly.

Draco looks away at last, his hands on his hips, and starts pacing. “I couldn’t believe-” sharp glance at Harry through the pacing, “-you just left after you said that. I couldn’t believe you’d actually not answer my owls. You’re an absolute coward sometimes.”

“You didn’t say anything…” Harry mumbles.

“Oh,” Draco responds with an eyeroll, still pacing, “so you get to freak out for a week, but I’m not allowed longer than a couple of minutes to compose myself?”

Harry ducks his eyes, ashamed.

Draco hmphs, and pauses in his pacing to look down his nose at Harry. “That’s right. You should feel bad.”

Shirt-Harry shakes his head at real-Har- “God Draco, take the shirt off!”

“What?” Draco is shocked into pausing his restless movement. “Take my shirt off? You haven’t even apologised and want to get me half naked like the rest of you? I think not!”

“That’s not- ugh, forget this.” Harry reaches forward and grabs Draco mid-pace. “Draco.” Deep breath. Harry meets Draco’s eyes. Draco looks like he’s been through his paces. He doesn’t even look angry anymore, he just looks like the culmination of a week of stress. Ron and Hermione are eating dry cereal right out of the box from their perch as they watch, and they both give Harry nods and a thumbs up in encouragement when his eyes stray to them.

He’s a stoic man: Draco and Hermione are right. He hasn’t had to be brave in a long while. This is a moment that’s worth it though, even if he has to fake it at first.

“I’m sorry.” He has to pause at that, because he can feel the emotions bubbling up a bit too high. He takes a deep breath, and makes sure that Draco’s eyes don’t stray. “You’re… you’re right. About a lot of that-”

Draco buts in with “I’m right about all of it, actua-”

“Shut up, do you want me to get this out?”

Draco concedes.

Harry takes another breath, but the nerves have disappeared in the face of Draco’s unfiltered verve. “I shouldn’t have left. I was-”

“A coward.”

“Draco.”

“…sorry.”

“I was. I was a coward. I was scared. You didn’t respond, which never happens. You’re so good with your words.” He has to take a minute to collect his thoughts, but finds the right thread. “I love you, and have done for a while. I ran because I kind of didn’t mean to say it then. We were already fighting about something, and it just came out, which wasn’t right, and sometimes I’m so afraid that things will change, because you’re my best friend-” “Hey!” “-my best friend and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You should have said that then.”

Harry closes his eyes. God, feelings are so bloody hard. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

“Oh well, as long as you know.”

“Draco. Shut up.” He swallows. “I like my job.”

“No, you don’t. You come home-” a sharp breath “-you come to mine, I mean. You come to mine after work and you can’t stop complaining. We like our jobs. I’m sure when Hermione finishes her ChP and becomes the Minister she’ll love her job too.” (“It’s a PhD, Draco, I’ve told you a million times.” “Maybe another time, Herm.”)

Harry has to breath deeper, because his blood is pumping a bit too fast in his ears. He drops his hands from Draco and takes a couple of steps back. A retreat. “I think,” and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can force the words out of his throat. He looks up and meets all of their eyes. “I don’t think I can do important things anymore. I. I don’t want to- I.”

“Merlin sakes, Harry.” Draco says. “I think it may be time we force you into therapy.” And Draco just looks impatient. “You can’t keep pretending it’s not a problem, and we can’t keep letting you!”

Harry. Harry nods. He thinks he nods. It’s what he wants to do, but he’s not really looking at anyone anymore, eyes to the ground, heart a bit too fast in his chest for comfort. He wishes that he was still eating soggy cereal in the kitchen before the post arrived this morning. He’s a stoic coward.

Draco seems to take a deep breath, and then he turns around to face the others. “Okay, get up. I’m sick of standing in Weasley’s kitchen.”

Harry takes a pause and looks at Draco’s face. He’s perfectly serious, and so is the Harry on his shirt. Harry’s heart is still racing, but Draco just looks resigned and present. He can’t help himself from smiling a little when his eyes catch on Draco’s. He gets a pretty severe glare in response, before Draco just walks right out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Harry follows, and hears the small grunt from Hermione hitting the ground behind him. Two sets of feet follow his own.

“Don’t forget my tea, Weasley!”

Ron scoffs, but still walks back into the kitchen to make a tea he’d promised about 20 minutes earlier.

Harry sits down on the floor in the same place he sat last night. Draco’s chosen the armchair near the fire; where he usually sits. Hermione stomps over to take the seat on the couch closest to the armchair, and Ron can be heard pottering around the kitchen.

“PhD.”

Draco looks to Hermione with a frown. “What?”

Hermione looks haughty yet contrite. Like she actually can’t help herself from making sure that Draco knows he was wrong, and feels a little bit sorry about it. “It’s a PhD, not a ChP or whatever you called it.”

“Honestly Granger, what does it matter?”

A harrumph from Hermione as she settles back into Ron’s expensive couch cushions. “It’s a very important thing.”

Harry chucks her a grin, and she smiles back proudly.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Why do you all insist on patting yourselves on the back constantly. You don’t see me singing my own praises.”

Ron let’s out a violent laugh from the kitchen, and Draco flushes a little bit, his eyes flicking to Harry who grins at him too.

Mugs float out from the kitchen, Ron trailing behind. Harry grabs his out of the air and cherishes the sent of the strong tea. He can’t help but laugh when Hermione grimaces at the taste of her milkless cup, and Draco looks at her as if he’s won something.

Harry’s won something. He’s won Draco sitting here in Ron’s expensive apartment, Draco rolling his eyes when Hermione chides him about his too sweet tea, then Draco chiding Ron when he argues that Ron made it too sweet anyway, and that if he has to have teeth work done it’ll be Ron’s fault.

“You can make your own tea, you know, you’re not that famous.”

“Actually, Weasley, I’m more famous than all three of you, currently. The only thing getting you through is dumb luck and a gullible consumer base. I get by on pure talent.”

“Sure, Draco.”

“Also, I expect thanks when Wheezes gets the significant boost in sales it’s sure to this week, what with the Prophet this morning.”

“Sure, Draco.”

Harry smiles. His arse will probably start hurting before his mug is drained, and the sounds of arguing will get tiring soon after that. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt a little. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Therapy. I’ll do it.”

Ron and Hermione smile at him like they knew it was coming all along, pressed up against each other on the expensive couches. Draco just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for who knows what. Probably an oral manifesto of Harry’s recognised faults and his plans to change them. Harry just smiles right back at Draco, wide and unashamed. Draco shakes his head a little bit, lips pulling up too.

Harry’s worried that if Draco keeps looking at him at all that he’ll have to walk over there and kiss him without warning. He picks his mug up and keeps sipping though, pretends he doesn’t absolutely need to do just that. Because there’s going to be time. Lots of it.

His stoicism has its uses sometimes, maybe.

#drarry #drarry fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter fanfic #god what have i done this is too long #love the idea that ron gets rich by capitalizing on the idiocy of the regular consumer e.g. like Supreme #drarrymicrofic #prompt: pretend #emotionally stunted golden trio #emotionally mature draco malfoy #very sexy dynamic #harry potter fanart #my fanart #my fic

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caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma · 5 years ago

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Map of the Soul, Chapter One

For the @btswritingcafe‘s Map of the Soul: 7 Workshop

Author’s Note: This story pulled me into long range territory, so I had to split it into 7 chapters to make it more manageable on Tumblr. Here is the first installment of this journey through the soul. I hope you like it!

Pairings: OT7 x reader (kinda); Jungkook x reader

Series Summary: If you give a piece of yourself to everyone you love, at some point, there will be nothing left for yourself. While feeling lost and alone in your adult life, a strange box falls onto your head in your own closet, and you take an unexpected walk down memory lane wondering where everything went wrong. Was it the romances that fizzled out, the friends & loved ones you left behind, the “what could’ve been” moments, the brush with Fate that never quite connected? Could the strange map you find have the answers you are looking for? Determined to feel complete once again, you embark on a journey to reclaim the missing pieces of your soul.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 8K+

Warnings: NSFW 18+ cursing/profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, one night stand, sexual content, protected sex, oral sex (female receiving)

Chapter One: There’s Always Time for Euphoria

March 15th - 5:45pm

Done.

That was the singular thought pulsating in your brain as you parked the car. The day was only halfway over and you were way past the breaking point of your own sanity.

From the moment you’d stepped out of bed and into your urine soaked house slippers, you should’ve known that the day was going to be beyond disastrous. Even as you washed them in the tub and left them hanging to dry, you just knew the rest of the day would be a downhill slide.

You didn’t know why your dog Oberyn was upset, but apparently, it was enough to prompt his indiscretion on your only pair of house slippers. He’d even had the audacity to sit in his bed and glare at you while you hurled your anger and frustration at him as you got dressed for your day.

I don’t know what crawled up his butt this morning, but I hope he’s in a better mood. I’m in no condition to deal with his bullshit right now.

After almost tripping up the stairs to your apartment entrance and dropping your keys into the bushes on the way up, you finally made it across the threshold. You quickly changed out your work shoes for sneakers and got Oberyn ready for his walk. Fifteen minutes later, you were cleaning the bottom of your shoe after a happy little accident found your foot at the dog park. Oberyn seemed to smirk at your misfortune, but you couldn’t even muster the energy to care.

Once you both returned to the apartment, you put his harness and leash away and reached over to grab his after-walk treats. You noticed one was already out on top of the container and the morning’s havoc immediately made sense. Oberyn wagged his tail and waited patiently for his treats and a well deserved apology.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” you sighed, handing him both treats. “I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to give this to you.”

He accepted your apology and head pats, then happily grabbed both snacks and ran to eat them on his bed. You shook your head and smiled at the easily appeased creature.

If only everything worked like that. You get something you were missing and it suddenly solves all your problems. The Universe finally makes sense again. What a life!

You quickly changed into comfy clothes and collapsed unceremoniously onto the couch. The random assortment of unfortunate events of the day replayed like a blooper reel in your mind and you groaned at the stacks of embarrassment and humiliation you’d endured.

You’d locked yourself out of your office and the university maintenance guy took forever to unlock it for you, which made you late to your first class. You had to dismiss the class and reschedule the quiz since all the copies were sitting on your desk in your locked office.

You’d torn your favorite black slacks and had to patch them with bright green thread from your emergency sewing kit.

You’d sustained several injuries including three paper cuts, a stubbed toe, your knee knocking the underside of a table, and a staple stabbing underneath your fingernail.

You’d spilled coffee down the front of your blouse when a fly unexpectedly dove into your face.

You’d even lost one of your favorite earrings while taking off your scarf outside the Humanities building. It was now lost among the clumps of mud by the front door.

Why does the Universe hate me so much today?

RIIIIINNGGG!!

You swiveled your head over to your cell phone screeching at you from the side table. The comical picture of your mother flashing on the screen drew a groan of exasperation from your throat.

I can’t deal with her right now.

The phone ceased its machinations and you turned into the couch seeking an escape from the tragedies of the day.

RIIIIINNGGG!!

“Argh!” You wailed. “What could she possibly need from me right now?!”

After taking a deep breath, you picked up the offending device and swiped the screen to answer the call.

“Hello, mother,” you grumbled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighed. “Don’t talk to your mother like that. It’s undignified.”

“I apologize,” you corrected with fake cheerfulness. “Hi, Mommy! I missed the sound of your voice. How was your day?”

“We really need to work on your phone etiquette, honey,” your mother groaned. “You’ll never meet anyone with that attitude.”

“Yes, mother,” you replied snarkily. “My goal in life is to trap someone in my love nest with only my wit and wisdom as weapons.”

“Anyway,” she drawled. “The reason I’m calling is because I’m looking for something. Do you remember that stole you wore for your college graduation? The one your grandmother made?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you responded. “It has all the graduate names from our family embroidered on it. It’s in my memory box in the closet. Why?”

“Your cousin Sana is graduating from college in about a week,” she announced happily. “I need that stole so we can get it embroidered before the graduation ceremony. Can you overnight it to me, darling?”

You leaned back on the couch and released a sigh of defeat.

Of course other people are doing great things in their life. I’m the only dumbass stuck in a rut right now.

“I’ll dig it out of the closet and send it to you tomorrow,” you replied. “Let me know when and where the graduation will be so I can make plans to head down.”

“Splendid,” your mom chirped. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you. Get some rest, honey. You sound tired. Love you!”

Without giving you a chance to respond, your mom ended the call. You looked at the screen and rolled your eyes.

She gets what she needs and then she’s gone. Typical.

Knowing you would probably forget to do it later, you wandered over to your spare closet, grabbing the stepladder along the way.

Might as well get this over with.

You climbed up on the ladder and pulled on the chain for the light above your head. You couldn’t stifle the groan from escaping when you spied the piles of plastic containers and boxes on the upper shelf.

Why is my life such a hot mess?

You started pulling down boxes one by one to avoid an accidental avalanche. The collection of dust and crumpled cardboard left you sneezing and gagging on stuffy air and a faint smell of mothballs.

After clearing your throat and taking a sip of water, you looked up and spotted the box you’d been looking for.

Just one more box to move.

The box in question had shifted slightly and was wedged against the ceiling at an odd angle. Try as you might, you couldn’t get it to budge. With a huff of annoyance, you balanced yourself on the top of the stepladder and pushed up to get closer to the box. You heaved your palms against the side of the box and it gave away before you could regain your balance. You crashed into an uncomfortable heap on the floor and whined loudly as you felt the painful throb on your ankle.

After a quick assessment, you discover no other injuries except for a slightly swollen ankle and a sizable knot on the top of your head.

What the hell hit my head?

You glanced around and saw three different boxes scattered around you. One was the memory box you’d been trying to get, one was the previously wedged prisoner box, and the other was completely foreign. You stood up and walked over to lift it from among the clatter on the floor.

This isn’t mine. Is it?

You brushed off the subtle cobwebs and dust and revealed a collection of stickers and decals that were strikingly familiar. Most depicted the many fandoms you followed, but others appeared to be nothing more than artfully scribbled words in elegant script.

Time. Destiny. Passion. Happiness. Faith. Friendship. Love.

You turned the box over in your hands and furrowed your brows quizzically. You didn’t remember ever seeing the box before and it certainly wasn’t there when you originally packed the closet full of your crap.

A loud text message tone pulled you out of your reverie and you abandoned the box on the counter in search of your phone.

Ah yes, we have to keep the tradition going.

Your grandmother and her sentimentality were time consuming, but also adorable. She wanted to stress the importance of education in the family, but also find a way to keep everyone connected from generation to generation. It was her insistence that solidified this current graduation tradition.

You opened the memory box and lifted the neatly folded stole in its plastic bag and the small scrapbook decorated with graduation memorabilia. You took a moment to reminisce about your prior accomplishments and then placed the items on the counter. After cleaning up the mess on the floor and carefully returning everything to the closet, you limped over to the kitchen and poured yourself another glass of water.

On your third gulp, your eyes landed on the mysterious box again. It was no bigger than a shoe box, but was definitely sturdier. Curiosity got the better of you and you inspected it a little more closely.

There was a tarnished metal knob that needed to be turned in order to lift the lid. The glossy surface appeared to be varnished or glazed so that the stickers and words would remain fixed. There was no lock, so you decided to open it.

You didn’t know what to expect when you opened the lid, but it certainly wasn’t what you found.

Laying on top of a folded piece of paper were seven items: a rubber banana keychain, a cute little hamburger toy, a metallic purple kazoo, a gold sequined bow tie on an elastic band, a red beanie dragon plush, a spoon with a floral design, and a thin metal disc with an assortment of holes. You tentatively inspected each item and placed it on the counter.

What the hell is all this?

You lifted the folded paper out of the box and looked underneath. All that was left at the bottom of the box was a quote etched into the surface.

My life and yours are an equal sign, So my remedy is your remedy.

You read the phrase over a few times and couldn’t make sense of it. It seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. You turned the folded paper over in your hands a few times and then unfolded it. It’s a fairly large sheet and it resembled parchment. At first glance, the image on the paper looked like an intricate abstract drawing. There were large lines of ink brushed across in elaborate swirls resembling a disjointed heart.

The swirling lines were connected by smudges of charcoal across from blocks of text in colorful ink. There were seven smudges with lines of text to the left of each smudge. You couldn’t make sense of it, but there did seem to be some type of pattern implied. The lines flowed from left to right increasing in width and each successive line grew wider as it progressed to the other side of the page.

You studied the lightest portion of the drawing and read the lines of text next to this first smudge.

Were you wandering around Looking for an erased dream too? It’s different from the typical definition of destiny. Your pained eyes are looking at the same place as me. Won't you please stay in dreams?

The words were certainly poetic, but you didn’t understand their significance. You glanced at the other phrases and they seemed just as cryptic.

What the hell am I looking at? Why would something like this be in my closet?

You were too exhausted to think too much on it, so you shrugged your shoulders and folded the paper and placed it back in the box. You left everything else on the counter and decided that it was time for a shower and then bedtime. As you lay in bed, you exhaled heavily and focused on the hope that tomorrow would be better than today.

March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 4:27pm

Oh no...please don’t let her find me in here.

“Ok, no arguments,” Gina chirped in excitement as she pranced through your office door. “It’s time for green beer and dancing!”

Damn, she’s quick!

You lowered your head to your desk and groaned out slightly and silently scolded yourself for not leaving the office earlier to avoid her completely. It was much easier to avoid Gina if you were already out of the office, but once she had you cornered, it was almost impossible to tell her no. She was your favorite faculty member and the only person at work that you would consider hanging out with outside of the university.

Gina had been trying to get you to go out for months, and after a long week of midterm exams, you couldn’t find the energy to counter her offer. Besides, you were now, technically, on Spring Break.

“Come on, girl,” she pleaded. “You know I’m leaving for Acapulco the day after tomorrow with my sisters. If I can get you out of your stuffy apartment and into an Irish bar for a little St. Patty’s Day fun, then I can truly enjoy my vacation. You know how I worry about my work-bestie when I’m not around.”

She pouted at you and batted her long eyelashes, and you almost cackled at her adorable puppy dog look. You half expected her to start whining at you like Oberyn would when he wanted something. Maybe that image in your head that weakened your resolve against her proposal for a St. Patrick’s Day outing.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “Where are we going, Gina?”

She squealed in excitement and twirled around with glee. You tried to resist the growing enthusiasm, but you quickly gave in with a sigh and a smile.

“Fine. Let me finish up here and we can go to my apartment,” you suggested. “I guess I’ll need you to help me pick out an outfit for tonight.”

Gina nodded happily and ran upstairs to collect her things. Once you finished packing everything away, she was hopping around in anticipation at your office door. Her bunny antics made you giggle.

Such funny friends I have.

March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 10:37pm

After a quick dinner of sushi, you were pushing your way through the crowded Irish bar back to the booth where Gina was entertaining her latest acquisition. The guy was certainly handsome, but he only had eyes for Gina. You had another set of drinks for the two of you, but upon discovering the entwined couple making out in the booth, you decided to retreat to give them some privacy.

Typical. She invites me out and then she ditches me for a pretty face.

You wandered back toward the bar and gazed at the writhing mass of bodies under the flashing lights on the dance floor. Desperate to lose yourself in the moment, you downed the two drinks and relished the flavor of Guiness and Bailey’s on your tongue. If Gina was going to have fun, then so were you. You motioned the bartender over and ordered a Jameson & Ginger Ale.

“A whiskey girl, huh?” exclaimed a sultry voice behind you. “Much better than those Appletini chicks.”

Ah, yes, the pick up line. At least his voice is sexy. Let’s hope the rest of him matches.

You couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed, so you decided to let his face make the decision for you. You turned around prepared to give him your best smirk, but lost your nerve once you saw who it was.

“Jungkook?” you replied in squeak. “What are you doing here?!”

Pure amusement filled his doe eyes and he huffed out a laugh. You were floored that your secret hopes of your mystery man being handsome were completely dashed. In fact, he didn’t just have a sexy voice, he was also drop dead gorgeous. You hadn’t seen Jeon Jungkook in almost 7 years, and he hadn’t aged a day. Back when you were both still working on your undergraduate degrees, you’d been his writing tutor on campus, spending countless hours pouring over research papers and essays that needed serious revision and editing.

So many late nights spent at each other’s apartments, so many long hours in the private study rooms, so many casual touches, missed opportunities, awkward moments, and those long nights alone in your bed where you wished his strong arms were holding you. There was no denying the sexual tension you’d felt back then, and there was certainly no denying it now.

Now, here he was leaning on the bar in his billowy shirt and dark ripped jeans looking like some kind of Greek god holding a glass of bourbon. You quickly cleared the inebriation out of your brain and tried to appear sober and sane while you smoothed out your ruffled hair.

“So,” Jungkook smirked while pulling you closer. “I’m guessing you weren’t expecting to see me here, huh?”

“Ummm, no,” you admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t even know you were back in town. I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here?”

“I just took a job here,” Jungkook stated simply. “Just hanging out with my new coworkers for the night. I saw you and thought I’d say hi, but I wasn’t expecting you to look so enticing though. You’re not here with your boyfriend or husband, are you?”

“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m still single?” you popped your eyebrow at him. “And enticing, really? Still trying to pick me up, Kookie?”

He smiled a bright bunny grin at his old nickname. You were the only one who would ever call him that and he would never admit just how much he loved it.

“Oh, did you want me to try?,” he continued while reaching up to run his hands up and down your arms. “Hmmmm, where should I begin, babygirl?”

He pulled his lip between his lips and shot you a smoldering look while flipping his hair slightly. You tried to look disinterested, but you lost your composure when he reached up to push a lock up hair behind your ear. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved in between your legs.

“I mean it, you know?” Jungkook insisted while locking eyes with you. “You still look incredible.”

The bartender returned with your drink at that moment. Thankful for a little distraction, you lifted the glass of liquid courage to your lips. You swallowed a large gulp of swirling heady sweetness and smiled at Jungkook. He was watching you with stars in his eyes and you were enjoying every minute of it.

“So what are you doing these days, Kookie?” you asked, trying to shift his gaze elsewhere. “Are you still playing with your camera and crayons?”

Jungkook laughed and rolled his eyes at your insinuation. As an art major, Jungkook dabbled in several mediums including painting, sculpture, photography, graphic design, and drawing. The boy was insanely talented, so you were actually curious about where he’d ended up career-wise.

“I just took a job at an advertising agency,” he replied with a cocked eyebrow. “And no, I’m not playing with crayons, smartass. I’m their new Assistant Art Director, so I’m mostly working on graphic designs and managing their photography department.”

“Look at you,” you grinned. “Little Kookie all grown up and making big bucks as an actual adult.”

“I was always an adult,” he corrected. “Someone just always chose to treat me like a little kid.”

“Not always,” you shot back. “It’s not my fault you had a tendency to act like an idiot teenager sometimes.”

“Fair point,” he conceded. “But we all have to grow up sometimes, right? Except you, I guess. Looking at you, I could never guess that so much time has passed since I last saw you. You honestly look amazing.”

He leaned in and ran his nose along your neck up to your ear, inhaling deeply as he grazed your skin. He hummed happily as the intoxicating scent of your perfume hit his nostrils.

“You smell amazing too,” he sighed against your ear. “I bet you haven’t thought about me once since I last saw you.”

“Well, that’s a lie,” you smirked. “I’ve thought about you quite a lot actually. You, sir, are one of my big regrets from college.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook chuckled lightly while nipping at your earlobe. “Why is that, babygirl?”

You nearly purred at his touch and you hissed lightly when you felt Jungkook’s lips attached themselves to your neck.

“Oh, you’re such a fucking tease, Kookie.” you whined. “How am I supposed to think clearly when you’re doing that?”

“What?” he mused. “I’m not doing anything you don’t want me to, am I?”

You pushed on his chest slightly and he pulled away just enough to rub his nose along your own. You felt his breath ghost across your face and you allowed the smell of bourbon to mix in with his fresh scent.

“Kookie,” you sighed. “How much have you had to drink?”

He wrinkled his brow in confusion and stepped back to look at your face, searching for some explanation for your implied accusation. You weren’t trying to sound like you were chastising him for drinking, but you couldn’t shake the insecurity itching under your skin. It was entirely possible that Jungkook was just feeling a little tipsy from the evening and his familiarity with you was the cause of his brazen behavior. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you weren’t about to let a longtime crush be ruined because of a questionable drunken daze. Jungkook picked up on your train of thought and placed his drink on the bar.

“I hope you’re not insinuating that I’m only hitting on you because I’ve been drinking,” he scowled. “You should know better than that. I’ve been hitting on you since before I was able to buy my own alcohol, remember?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I remember having to sneak you into a few clubs back in the day.”

“Exactly,” he bragged. “So don’t try to make it sound like I’m just some random drunken idiot trying to get into your pants. I’m the same Jungkook who would look down your shirt or pull you into his lap in the hopes of making out with you. I mean, I’m still trying to get into your pants, but at least it’s not something new.”

“Still, huh?” you prompted after downing the rest of your drink. “Well, it’s going to take more than a little flirting to get into my pants, Kookie. You want to dance? I want to see if you still got those sexy moves, Kookie.”

He giggled and then finished his own drink with haste. He grabbed your hand to help you off the barstool and you pulled him toward the chaotic dance floor.

You shook off your previous nerves and worked your way into the pulsating mass of dancers. The music was thumping out a steady bass line and you swayed your hips back and forth to the beat. You weren’t sure if Jungkook noticed your attempt at seduction, but within moments, a pair of strong hands attached themselves to your gyrating hips. Given your vaguely inebriated state, you had no problem relinquishing a little control to your sexy suitor.

You encouraged Jungkook’s boldness by pushing your ass back into his crotch, grinding onto his growing erection. He leaned into your body and pulled you closer. His lips ghosted a kiss on your exposed shoulder and then nipped at your neck playfully. The pleased sigh that left your lips prompted a dark chuckle from him.

“So naughty,” he murmured into your ear. “If you keep on grinding onto my dick like that, I’ll have to take action, babygirl.”

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and reached up to grip his wavy hair. He groaned softly as you tugged on the roots and his hips thrusted against your ass. You quickly calculated how long it had been since you’d had sex and decided that it was time to update your calendar.

“Oh yeah?” you taunted. “I’ll accept that challenge.”

You turned in his grasp and locked onto his lips with your own. He hesitated for a moment, but pushed back with his own lips in seconds. They were unbelievably soft and his fervent kisses ignited an inferno in your center. You decided to take it a bit further and you swiped your tongue across the seam of his lips. He moaned slightly in response and dove into your mouth with his own tongue. Once you bit down on his bottom lip, you both decided it was time to move to a more secure location.

He turned away from the crowd and pulled you behind him toward the bar. You both quickly closed out your tabs and made your way to the exit. Once you were both outside, you pounced on him and pushed him into the brick exterior, unable to contain your lust any longer. Jungkook appeared flustered by your eagerness and took a moment to gather his bearings.

“As much I would love to lose myself in this moment,” Jungkook huffed while pulling away from your hungry lips. “Maybe we should decide on a place with softer surfaces.”

You glanced at the vacant alleyway next to you and the brightly lit city street and frowned.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “Kinda forgot where I was for a second there.”

“Really?” Jungkook grinned and kissed your forehead. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“Let me call an Uber,” you volunteered. “My place isn’t too far from here.”

Once you were both in the Uber, you couldn’t stop touching and smiling at each other. The driver commented on the “happy couple,” and you didn’t have to heart to correct the old man.

Once you were both inside your apartment, Jungkook pushed you against your front door and started nipping lazily along your jaw.

Jungkook stroked his thumbs along your sides and leaned in to kiss your flushed cheeks. You sighed happily in response and ran your hands up his firm chest and rested them on his shoulders.

“Jungkook,” you began. “I didn’t think I’d ever run into you again. I haven’t seen you since my undergraduate graduation party.”

“I tried to see more of you that night,” Jungkook admitted while stroking your hair. “But someone disappeared in the middle of the party with their friend, Jimin.”

You flushed further at his words, remembering that night a little more clearly now that he’d brought it up. You and your former friend with benefits had indeed disappeared that night to have a little undergraduate graduation celebration of your own. By the time the two of you rejoined the party, Jungkook was long gone.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be interested. You always had so many girls pining for you, I never thought you’d give me a second glance.”

“Are you kidding?” Jungkook scoffed. “I’ve wanted you since our first tutoring session. I could barely concentrate with you wearing that tank top and those little shorts. What kind of tutor shows up wearing something like that?”

“It was summer,” you countered. “It was over 100 degrees. What was I supposed to wear? A parka?”

You both giggled at that, and it broke the tension that was building since you recognized him. Feeling encouraged, you started lightly scratching his shoulders and chest, noting the stiff pebbles you grazed down the front of his shirt.

“So what now?” you asked. “Do we just keep reminiscing about old times until the sun comes up?”

You gently popped the top button from his shirt to reveal more of his deliciously tanned skin. Jungkook bit his lip and lifted an eyebrow suggestively.

“I think we’ve talked enough,” he grinned wickedly. “There are better ways to spend our time.”

Your eyes locked and you could almost feel the searing arousal growing between you. You gently pushed him away from you and then started walking toward your bedroom, tossing your shoes aside along the way. At the edge of the living room, you lifted your dress over your head and tossed it on the couch. Jungkook smirked and continued to unbutton his shirt while walking toward you. His taut muscles caused your thighs to clench in anticipation.

“Are you enjoying the view, baby?” Jungkook purred while looking you up and down. “I know I am.”

He unbuckled his belt and tugged at the buttons on his jeans. You stepped forward to help him, but got too caught up in touching his bare skin to be of any use. You pulled Jungkook’s lips to your own just as he leaned forward to pull his pants down. He was caught off balance, but quickly recovered after using his feet to pull the troublesome fabric from his legs.

After flinging his shirt behind him, you were both left in your underwear and no inch of exposed skin was left unexplored. Your dominant personalities were at war as you made your way down the hallway, and the aggression became tangible, especially after you practically slammed his back into the wall by your bedroom door. Jungkook squealed happily when you started climbing onto his chest and he reached down and pulled your legs up and around his waist.

Even though his hands were already busy holding you up, he still managed to slip a few fingers in between your legs from behind. The soaked fabric of your underwear pulled a sultry groan from his kiss bitten lips.

“Holy shit, baby,” he said in a breathy tone. “You’re so fucking wet already.”

You moaned softly into his ear as he trailed your arousal back and forth across your slit. He walked across the threshold of your bedroom door and sat down on the bed. You quickly pushed him on his back, but he sat back up and tried to still your frantic hands.

“Baby, baby,” he implored. “You can slow down a bit. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But,” you pouted. “You have no idea how many times I fantasized about this. I’m just excited that it’s actually happening.”

He reached up with one hand and unsnapped your bra with unbelievable precision. He smirked at your awed expression, tossed your bra to the floor, and then leaned up to kiss you sweetly.

“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “I just want to take my time with this. There’s no rush.”

Jungkook continued kissing along your jawline and proceeded to your neck. He pulled on your nipples slightly and then slipped his fingers around your waist to toy with the band of your underwear. You took a deep breath and smiled. Maybe you were a little eager, but it wasn’t often that a legit snack was delivered unto you by the Universe. The restraint was a real struggle.

Jungkook nipped at a sweet spot just below your ear and you hissed and clutched desperately at his back in response.

“Kookie,” you whined. “Don’t tease me.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled darkly. “I’d say you deserve a little payback for all the times you teased me, don’t you think?”

“What?” you scoffed. “When?”

Jungkook turned and tossed you onto the bed. He reached up and pulled your hands above your head and held them in place with one hand.

“Every time I saw you,” he reiterated while kissing down your chest. “Your flirty smiles, your sexy winks, your playful jokes, you sat in my lap on more than one occasion when we cuddled on the couch.”

“You never reacted to any of that,” you breathed out in a gasp. “I just assumed you wanted to be friends.”

“I didn’t want to assume anything either,” he admitted. “But I definitely wanted to be more than just friends.”

He leaned in and pulled you into another intoxicating kiss, and you leaned forward to slip your tongue into his mouth, needing to satiate your overwhelming lust. He pushed his own tongue against yours and then pulled away from your lips completely.

He smirked at your needy whine and trailed his free hand across your cheeks then down onto your breast. He leaned in to capture one nipple with his lips and stimulate the other with his fingers. You writhed in desperation, but he only hummed in response.

“Something wrong, babygirl?” He mused. “You seem a little agitated.”

“Gee,” you huffed. “I wonder why.”

Pure amusement played across Jungkook’s beautiful face as he released one nipple from his mouth with a loud popping sound. He licked the valley between your breasts and shifted his body between your legs. You could feel his thick clothed erection brushing across the top of your thighs. He leaned up to kiss your lips and lingered for a moment before releasing your hands.

“Keep your hands where they are, babygirl,” he instructed. “Don’t move them until I tell you to, ok?”

“What happens if I move them?” you challenged. “Will I get in trouble, Kookie?”

“Oh yeah,” he glared. “Big trouble.”

To send his comment further into your mind, Jungkook rubbed his girthy length gently across your clit and grinned wickedly as you moaned wantonly in response. He placed another kiss on your lips and began crawling down your torso. You released a flustered exhale and wiggled your hips beneath him in anticipation.

His hands continued to explore as he kissed a trail down your body. Jungkook paused and adjusted his position when he reached your dripping center. He nuzzled his nose into the thin fabric of your panties and gave the wet spot he found a lick.

Your hips tried to snap forward with the sensation, but Jungkook held you firmly in place. He slid your underwear down your legs and flung them on the floor with the other discarded articles of clothing. He then situated himself firmly between your legs and slid his strong arms under your thighs.

Intent on prolonging his sensual torture, Jungkook ran his tongue delicately along your juicy folds and the blew a cool stream of air onto your exposed nub. The sensation triggered a shiver to erupt across your skin, and you latched onto the pillow above you to anchor your hands in place. Before you could unleash another whine of displeasure, Jungkook dipped the tip of his tongue into your dripping center and swirled it to collect your juices. He released a satisfied hum when he swallowed and got his first real taste of you

“Oh, fuck me,” Jungkook groaned into your upper thigh. “Your pussy is delicious, baby. I may be down here for a while. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Ah,” you squeaked as he licked another stripe through your folds. “Go right ahead, Kookie. I won’t stop you.”

Jungkook nearly growled as he dove into your sopping wet slit, slurping up every drop of slick he could find. You moaned and twitched uncontrollably and he sent you into a tempest of pure pleasure. Every flick of his tongue, every bit of suction against your clit, and every grasp of Jungkook’s hands on your skin jolted your nerve endings into a full blown orgasm careening from your center and spreading all the way across your extremities. He was certainly taking his sweet time and enjoying every minute of it.

Once the climax shifted into overstimulation, you reached down and pulled on Jungkook’s hair and begged him to stop. The little bunny grin he flashed you was completely at odds with the sinful actions of his fingers in between your legs. He planted one last lingering kiss on your throbbing bundle of nerves and crawled off the bed.

You were about to protest his absence from the bed, but then he left you slack jawed when he pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them aside. The sight of his quivering length made your mouth water, even more so when he gave it a few purposeful strokes. The swollen pink tip was already weeping with precum and you licked your lips, wondering about the taste.

“Ah, you can’t do that to me,” Jungkook blushed. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me up.”

“Maybe I do,” you teased. “Can you blame me when you’re looking so damn tasty?”

Jungkook chuckled wickedly as he mounted the bed again and hovered over your tantalizing naked figure. He licked his lips, still tasting your essence on his tongue, and raked his eyes up and down your body.

“Are you ready for me, babygirl?” he mused. “Do you think you can take all of me?”

Glancing down at his sizable girth, you popped an eyebrow and tilted your head pensively. You reached over to your side table and opened a drawer to pull out a condom, handing it to Jungkook with a smile.

That’s a damn good question. Can I?

“I guess it’s time to find out,” you teased. “How long are you going to keep me waiting, Kookie?”

That was all the encouragement Jungkook needed to act upon his voracious hunger. He quickly rolled the condom onto his dick and leaned forward to give you a passionate kiss. He released your swollen lips and you gasped as you felt him rubbing his tip along your damp slit.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Jungkook murmured. “Just know that you’re in for a long night, baby. I’m not going to stop until we’ve made up for all that time we lost.”

With that being said, Jungkook plunged his throbbing cock into you and released a ravenous groan above you. You both remained still for a few moments and you squirmed in his hold hoping to increase the friction you craved. After the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders subsided, his hips burrowed deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. He relished the deluge of your juices dampening his thighs, the melodic moans of his name you uttered over and over again, and most of all, the profound elation of finally reaching the state of euphoria he’d been dreaming about since you were both in college.

The night raged on with your ardent love-making, and after hours of unbridled bliss, you were sprawled across Jungkook’s chest, buzzing with contentment. Both of your glistening chests heaved from exertion, but the fucked out looks on your faces didn’t reveal any hints of exhaustion.

“That was unbelievable, Kookie,” you panted. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”

“Because we were both idiots?” Jungkook suggested. “Whatever it was, I’m glad we finally found the time to do it.”

He kissed the top of your head and smacked your ass playfully. You hissed at the contact and pursed your lips at him in a pout. He giggled at your cuteness and wrapped his arms around you.

“What was that for?” you whined. “You’re so mean, Kookie.”

“Hey,” he protested hotly. “I told you to keep your hands in place earlier, but you just had to pull on my hair. I owed you at least one good spank.”

“I think you spanked me enough tonight,” you replied cheekily. “Among other things.”

You both smiled at each other as you replayed the events of the evening in your minds. You leaned over to pull him into another lingering kiss. He chuckled and stopped you from deepening the kiss.

“We should probably clean up,” he argued. “We are a hot steaming mess right now.”

“Speak for yourself,” you shot back. “I’m not a mess.”

He lifted his eyebrows and then reached between your legs to drag his fingers across the stickiness clinging to your legs. You mewled in protest and shot him a dirty look for calling you out.

“Ok, fine,” you agreed. “I’m a mess, but so are you. How about a shower before I change the sheets?”

He nodded in agreement and helped you off the bed and into the bathroom. Your legs were still a little wobbly after so much physical activity.

It’s been a while since I put my thighs to good use.

The intimacy carried on in the shower, but neither of you had enough energy to initiate another round of passion. The most you were able to do was kiss each other lazily after helping each other clean up. After the shower, Jungkook was an absolute gentleman and helped you change your sheets.

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” you suggested. “You could just stay. It’s after 5am anyway.”

“I know,” he replied coolly while buttoning his shirt. “But I’m not really in the habit of staying the night.”

“Oh, really?” you teased while popping an eyebrow. “Then can I get you a drink before you leave?”

Jungkook smiled at your hospitality and nodded in response. You were quick to get him a glass of cold water and set it on the counter. A now fully dressed Jungkook walked over and pulled you into another kiss before grabbing the glass and taking a drink. You nuzzled against his chest and sighed. Jungkook set the glass aside, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed the top of your head sweetly.

“Hey,” he exclaimed suddenly. “Where did you find that?”

He reached over and picked up the banana keychain still sitting on your counter. You totally forgot about the small collection of random objects you found in the closet, but now that Jungkook was examining the keychain, your thoughts revisited the mysterious items once again.

“It was in a box I found in my closet,” you confirmed. “Why? Do you recognize that keychain?”

“Of course I do,” Jungkook murmured. “It’s mine, and it isn’t just a keychain, it’s a USB drive.”

He pulled the banana apart at the center and it revealed a USB connector bearing the lettering 512GB. Your jaw dropped at the sudden revelation.

“What the-” you queried. “Why would I have it?”

“Maybe I left it at your place or something?” Jungkook said. “But the point is, I looked everywhere for this thing. I have so many layouts and artwork on here, and this will be incredibly useful at my new job. You are literally saving me weeks of work with this thing.”

“You’re asking me to just give you this flash drive that I found in my apartment mixed in with my stuff?” you reasoned. “How do I know this is actually yours?”

“Because I recognized it,” Jungkook argued. “And I also knew what it was. You obviously didn’t.”

“Hmmmm,” you mused. “I don’t know. What’ll you give me in return?”

Jungkook patted himself down and reached into his pants pocket to pull out a green shamrock on a beaded necklace with the word “Lucky” emblazoned across the front. The look on his face gave off the impression that he was confused, but then it transformed into amusement. He grinned and flipped a switch on the button, causing it to erupt into a barrage of green LED lights.

“I will give you this limited edition, LED powered four leaf clover necklace,” Jungkook proposed. “It’s the perfect good luck charm, and so much better than a horseshoe or a rabbit’s foot. What do you say?”

You eyed the glowing button and burst into a giggle fit. Jungkook was presenting it to you as though it were some kind of grand prize on a game show.

“Where did you even get that?” you asked. “Do you just hide random holiday necklaces in your pants?”

“No,” Jungkook chuckled. “They gave it to me at the bar. I almost left it on the table, but I couldn’t put it down. When I saw you by the bartender, I guess I just put it in my pocket. It’s weird, I usually don’t keep stuff like this. But it’s yours, if you want it.”

“Well,” you grinned. “With a sales pitch like that, how can I resist?”

He joyfully handed you the flashy plastic bauble and pressed another delightful kiss on your lips. You set the shamrock necklace aside on the counter and wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s neck to continue pressing sweet kisses on his soft pink lips. Before things got too heated again, Jungkook pulled away and kissed your forehead. He exhaled a deep breath as you buried your face into his firm chest.

The night had been phenomenal and this thing between you and Jungkook was heating up so well. Maybe there was a possibility for more than just a one night stand? It was a risky proposal to bring up, but your history with Jungkook gave you a sliver of hope.

“So when do I get to see you again, Kookie?” you breathed out while looking up at him. “Now that you’re in town again, maybe we can see each other more often?”

“Uh, well,” Jungkook sighed nervously. “I’m not sure. I just started the job and I’m going to be pretty busy, so I’ll have to let you know.”

“Oh,” you replied while gently releasing your hold on him. “That’s fine, whatever.”

“Hey,” he began while pulling you back into his embrace. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I had an amazing time with you tonight, but I’m not sure I can give anything more than something casual. I wish I could give you more than that, but I’m not really in a good place for anything serious right now.”

You pouted slightly and nodded your head in understanding. Having been in that exact same head space before, you could understand his apprehension. There were easily five years between you and Jungkook, so it was natural that you would be at different places in your life. It would be unfair to expect more of him if he wasn’t ready for it yet.

“I understand,” you murmured knowingly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything like that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you more than that,” he admitted. “Believe me. If ever I’m ready for something long-term, I’m going to be looking for you.”

“If I’m still available,” you mocked him playfully. “You never know. Some other gorgeous man might snap me up before then.”

“Well,” he growled while sinking his hand into your hair. “If that’s the case, then he better be ten times better than me and willing to give you the world on a silver platter. You shouldn’t settle for anything less, babygirl. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pursed your lips. He shot you an adorable bunny smile and eagerly kissed your lips once again. He took a moment to brush his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks and then shook his head with a goofy smile.

“Ah, I better go,” he announced in a huff. “If I spend any more time here, I’ll never leave.”

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” you shot back teasingly. “I’d definitely make it worth your while.”

“I know you would,” he snickered. “But I really do have a lot of work to do. I’m going to need the rest of the day to recover from tonight before I have to be at work on Monday. Someone gave me a hell of a workout.”

You winked at him and leaned up to kiss him once more before he pulled away toward the front door. You shared one last hug and kiss at the open door after exchanging phone numbers.

“Thank you again for giving this USB back to me.” he expressed with gratitude. “You have no idea how much time you’re going to save me. I’ll try to call you later this week. Maybe we can meet up and do something, if you’re not busy?”

“We’ll see,” you smirked. “I’ll let you know.”

Jungkook flicked your chin and shot you an impish grin. You watched him disappear behind the elevator doors before closing the door to your apartment. Once you were back in your kitchen, you sipped at the water you’d poured for Jungkook and looked at the scattered items on the counter. The absence of the banana keychain was noted, but the glowing shamrock was a welcome replacement. You decided to send Gina a little update before you went to bed.

You put your phone on the counter and let out a loud yawn, the evening and all of its activities finally catching up with you. The mess on the counter annoyed you, so you placed everything back in the box on top of the paper map and switched off the lights.

“I’ll take another look at this tomorrow,” you yawned. “Time for sleep.”

As you walked back to your room, you turned off all the lights and got settled into your comfy bed with fresh sheets. There was still a faint scent of Jungkook floating in the air and it calmed your senses. You started drifting off to Dreamland with visions of Jungkook prancing across your brain.

At least I can stop wondering about Jungkook and what might have been. I’d been obsessing over that for so long. Now, I can move on if I need to.

Reassuring visions danced across your brain and all of them resembled Jungkook. He kept tossing four leaf clovers at your feet, and you giggled in your sleep as he continued showering you in lucky charms.

Jungkook made a good point. Four leaf clovers were much better than other good luck charms. Your bunny boy bestowed a bounty of luck upon you, all while blessing you with a rabbit’s foot of his own.

Well maybe a few inches less than a foot, but size isn’t everything.

With a smile on your face and your heart full of possibilities, you coasted on fumes to the final mile into a deep sleep, knowing that tomorrow would be brighter without the added weight of your past insecurities pulling at your nerves.

It’s funny. I almost feel like I’ve regained something I didn’t know was missing. Maybe Oberyn is on to something after all. The Universe definitely makes more sense than it did yesterday.

That couldn’t just be a coincidence.

Could it?

Your mind continued its existential ramblings throughout the wonders of Dreamland, and in your kitchen, something inexplicable was happening. Only Oberyn was awake to witness the subtle purple glow and sparkle emanating from the counter top. It was over in a flash, but Oberyn still sniffed at the air in the kitchen trying to locate the origin of the unexplained phenomenon.

Chapter Two: Soulmates are a Forever Kind of Thing

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma‘s MASTERLIST

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sjerzgirl · 5 years ago

Text

By Joshua Ross on Facebook.

Ok, so, here’s some venting and some explaining and if you don’t like it, I honestly don’t care. Move on and good day to you.

This has easily been the longest 2 months of my career, and, for that matter, my life. COVID-19 has changed everything. The way we live, the way our kids learn, the way we work. It has trashed the economy, exploded unemployment, and harmed businesses, many of them, sadly, beyond repair. But here’s the deal: it’s real and it’s here and it’s still spreading.

As a healthcare worker, I’m exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. As a manager in the the healthcare industry, it’s been one of the longest, most stressful things I’ve tackled.

First off, the truthers and the conspiracy people and the protesters, you’re not helping. The people bitching CONSTANTLY about the governor’s or whatever level of government’s handling of things, it’s not constructive.

Do you want to know why medical people, real medical people, not some crackpot quacks and kooks with a YouTube account or Facebook page, are taking this seriously? Because it’s serious. And we’re serious people when it comes to people’s health and their lives. Yes, it mostly kills at-risk populations (the elderly and those with underlying medical conditions) but it also kills perfectly healthy people with no prior diagnoses and we don’t know why. I’m so tired of people acting like there’s information that’s being cooked up or withheld. You know why there’s lots of gaps in the information? Because we’re still learning about this virus every day. It’s new. It’s never been seen. How it acts, how it spreads, why it does the things it does is all new and we’re learning on the fly. Stop mistaking genuine lack of information for misinformation or withheld information.

The numbers: this one sticks in my craw like no other. “I heard they didn’t die from COVID-19, they died from a heart attack but they were positive so they called it COVID-19 to boost the numbers and scare people.” Stop. It. You know how many people died specifically from AIDS? Zero. AIDS patients die from pneumonia or some other illness normal, healthy people fight off because the AIDS virus destroyed their immune system and they couldn’t fight off the infection. But at the heart of it, they died because of AIDS. The coronavirus attacks the respiratory system. The respiratory system is, in case you didn’t know, pretty important to sustaining life. It also has a huge impact on how other organ systems, like the heart, work. Guess what, when your lungs don’t work because they’ve basically filled with brick mortar because the virus is attacking them, that puts a bit of a strain on your ticker and very well can cause it to fail. So unless you have a basic understanding of or want to understand how interconnected organ systems are and how the body fundamentally functions: stop.

I think I can speak for a lot of medical professionals when I say, we don’t mean to be arrogant, we don’t mean to be jerks, but damn it, this bullshit is frustrating and yes, we’re going to clap back to ignorance. Ignorance is not something to be flaunted and there is a difference between ignorance and stupidity. Ignorance is being uninformed. Stop being willfully ignorant and even reveling in it because it doesn’t fit your preconceived narrative or opinion. Even worse, stop pretending you’re not ignorant because you watched some damn YouTube video or read some op-ed piece. That’s someone’s opinion, normally based on nothing. NOTHING. No research. That’s not information. That’s not factual. That’s not based in science. It’s click-bait with the sole intention of riling you up and getting you to let your guard down. And instead of being pissed at the virus that’s causing all this, it’s to direct your anger at the government or doctors or anywhere else their agenda wants it directed.

Medical people are fired up for a couple reasons. 1 month ago, we were all heroes and putting our lives on the line because this was dangerous stuff. Well, I think I can speak for most of us when I say we aren’t heroic, we’re just doing our job. But guess what, we’re still doing the same damn thing we were doing a month ago and this crap still hasn’t gone away but now we’re “just trying to scare people” because “it’s really no big deal.” We aren’t looking for a pat on the back or even a thank you, we just want you to do what we all need to do to stop this thing and avoid the spread. Listen, if you think that my big fat ass enjoys sweating like a whore in church in an isolation gown, walking around like Mr Magoo because my glasses are fogged up because of my mask, and wearing goggles that dig into the backs of my ears because I’m “just a sheep,” you are mistaken. It’s because I don’t want this virus and I don’t want to take it home to my family and I don’t want to infect my co-workers and other patients. We’re fired up because we’ve seen and even performed intubations. We don’t intubate for funsies. Outside of the surgical setting, an intubation is basically throwing a Hail Mary to save someone’s life. And when the mortality rate once that plastic tube slides between your vocal cords with COVID-19 is 85-89%, yeah, that’s terrifying. This virus is dangerous.

Lastly, stop being spoiled children about public health advisories. Stop bitching about wearing a mask when you’re in public places. Stop pretending that that is somehow infringing on your rights. Get over yourself. I wish all businesses would grow a pair and refuse service to people who refuse to wear a mask “out of principle.” Police aren’t inclined to enforce it and that’s fine but, spoiler alert, private businesses have and reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. Don’t tell me it’s ok for a bakery to refuse service to a gay couple for a wedding cake on religious grounds but not ok for a convenience store to refuse service because they don’t want the outbreak monkey strolling through their place coughing all over other patrons and their staff. Stay outside the 6ft bubble, wear a damn mask, and wash your hands. It’s that easy. Stop pretending they’re asking for a kidney. It’s as much to protect yourself as it is everyone else. People wonder why we have things like stay-at-home orders and closing of non-essential businesses. It’s because of you, jackass, you’re the problem. It’s your lack of ability to exercise common sense and your refusal to follow simple, insanely simple advice that forces the government to exercise it for you. And even then, you still thumb your nose at it in all your ignorant glory. Sorry that you feel like they’re infringing on your right to be an irresponsible child.

Look, all I’m saying is I get that it’s frustrating and I get that it’s irritating, and inconvenient and all the other bad things that it is, but please, continue to take this seriously, continue to do the little things that make a big difference. Stop denying facts, science, and the advice from people who have spent a lifetime doing what they do in the medical and research fields to ultimately make everyone’s lives healthier, safer, and better.

I’m done with my soap box now. ✌🏻

#washyourhands #wearamask

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 years ago

Text

Pluralistic: 21 Mar 2020 (Cool Tools, scientists predict cooperation, Don't Look for the Helpers, after the crisis, a people's bailout, judge vs unicorns, Marc Davis's Haunted Mansion)

Today's links

My appearance on Cool Tools: My favorite gadgets.

UK emergency science panel predicts mass altruism: Reality has a well-known collectivist bias.

Don't Look for the Helpers: The text version of my essay for the new Nightvale anxiety podcast.

After the crisis, a program for transformative change: Pandemic reveals the systems' failures, and what to do about them.

Pandemic stimulus, realpolitik edition: Stephanie Kelton and AOC on a people's bailout.

Beautiful judicial snark: "No, your unicorn trademark is not an emergency."

Marc Davis's Haunted Mansion: What if Marc Davis had sole control over the ride's design?

This day in history: 2005, 2010, 2015, 2019

Colophon: Recent publications, current writing projects, upcoming appearances, current reading

My appearance on Cool Tools (permalink)

This week, I appear on the Cool Tools podcast to discuss my favorite, most indispensible gadgets and services and why I love them.

https://kk.org/cooltools/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-author/

My top picks were my Crkt Snap-Lock knife – a one-handed-opening, lightweight, super versatile pocket knife that I carry everywhere.

https://www.crkt.com/snap-lock.html

I also chose my Chinese OEM underwater MP3 player. I swim every day for my chronic pain maintenance and this is how I make it bearable, getting through 1-2 audiobooks/month.

https://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00GWV6GUO/cooltoolsshow-20

My third choice was Libro.fm, the DRM-free, indie-bookseller friendly way to listen to audiobooks. Basically the same catalog as Audible, at the same price, the only difference being that buying from them supports neighborhood booksellers, not Amazon.

It was a really fun! @Frauenfelder and @kevin2kelly are super smart about gadgets.

Here's the MP3:

http://tracking.feedpress.it/link/7810/13374488/779800513-cool-tools-218-cory-doctorow.mp3

UK emergency science panel predicts mass altruism (permalink)

SAGE is the UK Government's Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies. This is their hour to shine.

They have just published a spectacular, plain-language set of technical reports on the pandemic.

https://www.gov.uk/government/groups/scientific-advisory-group-for-emergencies-sage-coronavirus-covid-19-response

This is the most interesting: "on risk of public disorder."

https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/873736/08-spi-b-return-on-risk-of-public-disorder.pdf

The expert panel affirms the conclusions of Rebecca Solnit in her indispensable book "A Paradise Built in Hell," a closely researched history of disasters that finds that they are the moment in which people spring to the aid of their neighbors.

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2009/10/05/a-paradise-built-in-hell

SAGE's expert panel on disasters: "large scale rioting is unlikely. It is rarely seen in these circumstances. Acts of altruism will predominate, and HMG could readily promote and guide these."

"Where public disorder occurs, it is usually triggered by perceptions about the Government's response, rather than the nature of the epidemic. A perception that Government response strategies are not effective in looking after the public may lead to an increase in tensions."

"Promote a sense of collectivism: All messaging should reinforce a sense of community, that 'we are all in this together.'"

For decades, Britain has been poisoned by Margaret Thatcher's sociopathic maxim, "There is no such thing as society."

It turns out that reality (and pandemics) has a well-known collectivist bias.

Don't Look for the Helpers (permalink)

I wrote a short essay about how I'm coping with The Current Situation for Our Plague Year, a new podcast from Joseph Fink of Welcome to Nightvale, called "Don't Look for the Helpers".

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/17/pluralistic-17-mar-2020/#ourplagueyear

Today, PM Press published the essay in a new digital collection, "All We Have Is Each Other."

https://www.pmpress.org/blog/category/blog/all-we-have-is-each-other/

"Assuming things will break down does not make you a dystopian. Engineers who design systems on the assumption that nothing could go wrong aren't utopians, they're idiots who kill people. 'Nothing could go wrong' is why there weren't enough lifeboats on the fucking Titanic."

"Every disaster ends with mutual aid. By definition. That's the only way a disaster can end: with people pulling together. If there's one lesson to take from Mad Max, it's that pulling apart only deepens the crisis, and the it will not end until we pull together."

"I've been telling stories of humanity rising to crisis for decades. Now I'm telling them to myself. I hope you'll keep that story in mind today, as plutocrats are seeking to weaponize narratives to turn our crisis into a self-serving catastrophe."

https://www.pmpress.org/blog/2020/03/19/dont-look-for-the-helpers-by-cory-doctorow/

After the crisis, a program for transformative change (permalink)

The Current Situation has revealed deep cracks in our system: replacing public transit with gig economy drivers who don't get health care or sick leave; the gig economy itself; the lethal inadequacy of private-sector broadband and private-sector health-care, and beyond.

The fact that we can simply abolish data-caps (without networks falling over) and the liquid ban (without planes blowing up) reveals that these supposed existential threats were, in fact, arbitrary, authoritarian, rent-seeking bullshit.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/14/masque-of-the-red-death/#security-theater

The people who've spent 40 years convincing us that we're just not free-marketing hard enough continue to insist that all of these problems are merely the result of not having fully dismantled the state (so much for "state capacity libertarianism"):

https://www.bloomberg.com/opinion/articles/2020-03-20/coronavirus-killed-the-progressive-left

They're licking their chops for a 2008-style reboot: eviscerating public services, immiserating workers, fattening plutes and dissolving regulatory safeguards.

It's a playbook developed by Milton Friedman: the scheme to have "ideas lying around" when crisis strikes.

But as Naomi Klein reminds us, the Shock Doctrine cuts both ways. The manifest failures of plutocracy in the Great Depression got us the New Deal and the "30 Glorious Years" of shared prosperity and growth.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/17/pluralistic-17-mar-2020/#disaster-socialism

We haven't been idle since 2008. We have "ideas lying around" too. Ideas for a just and resilient society that reorients human life around sustainable and just practices. Motherboard's editorial staff gives us a manifesto for that society, so that this crisis doesn't go to waste:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/wxekvw/the-world-after-coronavirus-healthcare-labor-climate-internet

Free and universal healthcare ("healthcare is a basic human right" -B. Sanders)

Abolish ICE and prisons ("ICE is now a public health hazard")

Protect and empower labor ("Without these protections, everyone's safety and health is put at risk")

A healthier climate ("If the 2008-09 financial crash is any indicator, carbon could shoot right back up as soon as the crisis is over")

Fast, accessible broadband ("Community owned/operated broadband networks, long demonized and even prohibited by law are looking better than ever")

Smash the surveillance state ("This pandemic mustn't be used to infringe on the civil liberties and privacy of millions")

Billionaire wealth ("They're sending people to work while jetting off to luxurious doomsday bunkers, getting Covid-19 tests while normal people can't, and also singing 'Imagine' from bucolic getaways.")

Public transit that works ("Congress is poised to prioritize bailing out airlines and the cruise industry before it takes a look at public transit")

The right to repair ("Right-to-repair has become a matter of life and death.")

Science for the people ("We were caught flat-footed by a fixation on 'innovation' and lack of public options")

The future will not be like the past. Whether it is worse or better is our choice to make. It is in our (well-scrubbed) hands.

(Image: Jolove55, CC BY)

Pandemic stimulus, realpolitik edition (permalink)

I've been thinking a lot about what a covid stimulus package could and should look like, and what the possible failure modes and transformative changes could be. Obviously, there's real risk of inflation if handled wrong, because production has halted, so more money could end up chasing fewer goods. That gets ugly quick.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/18/diy-tp/#covid-stimulus

Then there's the risk that we just infuse trillions of no-strings-attached dollars into the finance sector, who use it to make our society even more brittle and unstable by hollowing out reeling companies and grinding down brutalized workers.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/19/gb-whatsapp/#peoples-bailout

Writing about this stuff in public makes a lot of Twitter people with "investor" in their bios very, very angry. They want giant bailouts for the companies they own stocks in, not transformative change. They use the neolib tactic of throwing out a lot of jargon to instil a sense of your technical illiteracy. Complexity is a con-artist's go-to tactic, after all – it's why proposition bets are so complicated, so you can't do the odds in your head (see also: craps tables).

But not every economist believes that sociopathy is pareto optimal. Leading lights like Stephanie Kelton, the mother of Modern Monetary Theory, who can go toe-to-toe with oligarch-apologists from the Chicago School, explaining how public debt really works.

Kelton and AOC appeared on this week's Deconstructed podcast with Mehdi Hasan to discuss the true scale of the bailout that will be needed (far more than $1T) to get the economy working again. That number can come down (by lowering working peoples' outgoings through rent/mortgage/student loan holidays, etc). But the lesson of 2008 is that to be credible, stimulus must be transparent and aimed at the public good, not the donor-class.

https://theintercept.com/2020/03/20/deconstructed-podcast-alexandria-ocasio-cortez-coronavirus-economy/

https://dcs.megaphone.fm/FLM7803427023.mp3

Otherwise, Congress risks having its hands tied: it might inject an inadequate and corrupt stimulus that benefits its cronies, then be unable to follow that on with a people's bailout that would help us all.

AOC: "Look at this kind of trash pile of legislation the Republicans have just introduced. I've never seen such a thing in my life of, we're going to give the neediest people less. And we're going to give people who are you know, need help but don't need as much help more."

Kelton: "What people mean when they say, you know, oh, Senator Sanders, you want Medicare for All or you want to make public colleges and universities tuition free, you want to cancel student debt, how are you going to pay for it? Where is the money going to come from? What that means in beltway speak is how are you going to offset all of that spending with new revenue from somewhere else, or by spending less in defense or some other category, the budget?"

"When you do a piece of legislation that's 'paid for,' it means you're putting the 50 billion in and it goes to some parts of the economy, and you're taking 50 billion out of some other parts of the economy so that you're not deficit spending."

"We've been so badly educated to respond to deficits as something that's fiscally irresponsible, reckless. It isn't. The government is committing to dropping dollars into the economy without ripping them right back out again. It's exactly what we want them to do right now."

Kelton's work on Modern Monetary Theory is transformative. Her lectures present both a powerful descriptive account of how money works in the economy and a prescriptive account of how we can use that knowledge to make a better, more prosperous world.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WS9nP-BKa3M

She has a new book about this coming in June, The Deficit Myth. This would be a good time to pre-order it. These are scary times for writers with books about to come out (signed, I have three new books out in 2020).

https://stephaniekelton.com/book/

Beautiful judicial snark (permalink)

As Ken "Popehat" White is fond of reminding us, no one snarks quite like a federal judge. And despite being a Trump appointee, Steven C Seeger manages to rip off a couple zingers in this ruling.

http://loweringthebar.net/2020/03/unicorn-case-not-an-emergency.htm

At issue: Art Ask Agency is upset that someone is counterfeiting their unicorn-logo merch, such as this unicorn-scented candle:

https://artaskagency.com/our-licenses/anne-stokes/unicorn-candle/

But Illinois is in covid lockdown, so its case against a bunch of John Doe (alleged) counterfeiters is on hold. Their lawyer has sent a string of motions to the court asking for an emergency hearing so they can proceed, despite the fact that the court clerks are operating on reduced staff and only dealing with matters of the utmost urgency.

The judge is Not Impressed: "At worst, Defendant might sell a few more counterfeit products in the meantime. But Plaintiff makes no showing about anticipated loss of sales. One wonders if fake fantasy products are experiencing brisk sales at the moment."

The judge takes notice of the time a telephonic hearing would consume, "especially given the girth of the Plaintiff's filings."

"Plaintiff argues that it will suffer an 'irreparable injury' if this court does not put a stop to the infringing unicorns and knock-off elves."

"The world is facing a real emergency. Plaintiff is not."

(Image: Karen Neoh, CC BY)

Marc Davis's Haunted Mansion (permalink)

Along with Passport to Dreams Old and New, the Long Forgotten Blog is the best source of information on the history, design, and evolution of Disney theme-parks.

https://passport2dreams.blogspot.com/

But Long Forgotten focuses on a single ride, the glorious, brilliant Haunted Mansion.

The history of the Haunted Mansion was completely upended in late 2019, when Christopher Merritt published his "Marc Davis in His Own Words," a two-volume compendium of journals and interviews with the legendary Imagineer, who was Merritt's mentor.

https://books.disney.com/book/marc-davis-in-his-own-words/

This is probably the best book of Disney/theme-park history ever published, and that's no surprise, as Merritt has already written the definitive history of Knott's Berry Farm:

https://www.angelcitypress.com/collections/authors-christopher-merritt

And Pacific Ocean Park:

https://www.yesterland.com/pacificoceanpark.html

Merritt is an Imagineer, an artist, and a historian, who has direct, lifelong connections with the original Imagineering team. He has unparalleled access, inside knowledge and perspective. So yeah, that is a fucking great book.

Marc Davis was the best character designer in the original Imagineer cohort: he created the Country Bears, the Pirates, and the Haunted Mansion ghosts. He was a spectacular visual gag master, too. And he was one of the (many) legendary Imagineers who had a hand in designing the Haunted Mansion. That ride had so many different iterations, drafts, plans and schemes, and the final product is so wonderful in part because of their remnants.

But Davis actually designed a full-on Haunted Mansion attraction, from start to finish, and those plans are kicking around. Based on those, Long Forgotten has created a narrative account of what it would be like to tour "Marc Davis's Haunted Mansion."

https://longforgottenhauntedmansion.blogspot.com/2020/03/marc-daviss-haunted-mansion.htm

It's…interesting. Davis had some really fun ideas like meeting up with a talking bust (or raven).

And there are great gags (Davis designed the "three-part" stretching portraits, after all).

I mean. this would have been so freaking boss.

But the real meat is something called "The Most Dangerous Ghost":

"The final picture is perhaps behind black drapes which raise as the ghost host calls out attention to it. As the drapes part we see a painting that has everything in it except a figure. There is perhaps a vague image where the figure should be. The ghost host reacts in a frightened manner. He explains that this is terrible because this is the most dangerous ghost in the mansion. When he climbs out of his picture he mingles with the guests until he has turned one of them into a ghost. He describes the ghost's appearance and its omnipotent powers. He suggests again that everyone should stay in a tight group; this evil ghost loves to pick off stragglers. He suggests that the group be wary of sliding panels, gusts of cold air and etc."

Long Forgotten: "The MDG character undercuts the intellectually sloppy notion that all Davis cared about was making the HM funny."

LF goes on to make a good case that Davis wanted to incorporate many of Rolly Crump's gorgeous "Museum of the Weird" designs into his Mansion.

Davis's seance room seems to flirt with MDG some more: "The presence of the villain ghost makes itself felt and these older retired ghosts are frightened. Whatever we have used to indicate the nearness of the villain ghost would be repeated here."

Davis once planned for a Mansion filled with "working class ghosts" (carpenters, soldiers, boxers, etc). The only ones that survived were the coachmen in the graveyard sequence.

And his bride sequence was very explicit about wedding-night murders, culminating with MDG manifesting amid the guests: "He starts a wild mocking laugh. It clouds up outside. The curtains blow inward. It starts to rain along with thunder and lightning. "Outside we see a figure take form and it moves into the room. The rain comes into the room with the figure and a pool of water forms around its feet."

This is gorgeously scary, but as Long Forgotten points out, it has little re-play value (similar to Tomororwland's Alien Encounter): "The gag about the Ghost Host revealing himself as the Most Dangerous Ghost has the obvious disadvantage that it can surprise you only once. Pretty soon everyone knows the 'secret,' and as its usefulness as a genuine shock or scare tactic fades its status as pure camp inevitably increases."

That all said, "We learn what we should already know but sometimes forget: Marc Davis was never an imperious, one-man show. He was a team player. He interacted creatively with the work already done by previous Imagineers, displaying in this outline nothing but respect for what was good in what they had done."

This day in history (permalink)

#15yrsago Disney busts amateur Disneyland tour guide https://web.archive.org/web/20050323133504/http://jimhillmedia.com/mb/articles/showarticle.php?ID=1356

#10yrsago James Randi is gay http://archive.randi.org/site/index.php/swift-blog/914-how-to-say-it.html

#5yrsago Windows 10 announcement: certified hardware can lock out competing OSes https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2015/03/windows-10-to-make-the-secure-boot-alt-os-lock-out-a-reality/

#1yrago Two arrested for hiding cameras in motel rooms and charging for access to livestreams https://edition.cnn.com/2019/03/20/asia/south-korea-hotel-spy-cam-intl/index.html

Colophon (permalink)

Today's top sources: Ok børge (https://twitter.com/forteller), Beyond the Beyond (http://www.wired.com/category/beyond_the_beyond/).

Currently writing: I've just finished rewrites on a short story, "The Canadian Miracle," for MIT Tech Review. It's a story set in the world of my next novel, "The Lost Cause," a post-GND novel about truth and reconciliation. I've also just completed "Baby Twitter," a piece of design fiction also set in The Lost Cause's prehistory, for a British think-tank. I'm getting geared up to start work on the novel next.

Currently reading: Just started Lauren Beukes's forthcoming Afterland: it's Y the Last Man plus plus, and two chapters in, it's amazeballs. Last month, I finished Andrea Bernstein's "American Oligarchs"; it's a magnificent history of the Kushner and Trump families, showing how they cheated, stole and lied their way into power. I'm getting really into Anna Weiner's memoir about tech, "Uncanny Valley." I just loaded Matt Stoller's "Goliath" onto my underwater MP3 player and I'm listening to it as I swim laps.

Latest podcast: The Masque of the Red Death and Punch Brothers Punch https://craphound.com/podcast/2020/03/16/the-masque-of-the-red-death-and-punch-brothers-punch/

Upcoming books: "Poesy the Monster Slayer" (Jul 2020), a picture book about monsters, bedtime, gender, and kicking ass. Pre-order here: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627?utm_source=socialmedia&utm_medium=socialpost&utm_term=na-poesycorypreorder&utm_content=na-preorder-buynow&utm_campaign=9781626723627

(we're having a launch for it in Burbank on July 11 at Dark Delicacies and you can get me AND Poesy to sign it and Dark Del will ship it to the monster kids in your life in time for the release date).

"Attack Surface": The third Little Brother book, Oct 20, 2020. https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531

"Little Brother/Homeland": A reissue omnibus edition with a new introduction by Edward Snowden: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250774583

#pluralistic

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prince-dongju · 5 years ago

Text

Should you fight The Boyz?

Here I am back on my bullshit

Similar to my Ateez post on the matter, you might want to know what’s in store for you if you happened to find yourself in a fight with each of the boys.

Sangyeon

He’s a sweet boy

He’d try to avoid a fight as much as possible, and it would take a lot to get him worked up

After a few minutes of trying to talk you down, he’d finally give in

And oh boy. It would be on

He would get so many punches in, blocking all your attempts to attack

In the end, he’d stop once he felt you’d learned your lesson

He’d also help you clean your wounds. He’s sweet like that

Then he’d give you a whole talk about how we need to “talk through our feelings instead of turning to aggression.” What a dad.

Prepare yourself for an ass beating and a lecture to boot

40% fightable

Jacob

Now first of all, why would you want to fight him? He’s an actual angel.

If you do have some beef with him, then go ahead, I guess

I really think that he’d put his energy into defending himself rather than throwing some punches of his own

The other boys say that he doesn’t get angry easily, so he’d try to talk you down while trying to figure out why the heck you’re mad at him

Once again, he’s an angel, so he couldn’t have done something too bad to you

He might even run away halfway through the fight. I just don’t see him being aggressive

Just remember that this man is the softest man ever. Please don’t hurt him akdslf

95% fightable

Younghoon

Looks can be deceiving

He looks like he’d outlast anyone in a fight with that piercing glare and his intimidating vibe

Plus he’s really tall and that’s also pretty scary

But once the battle starts, he might panic a bit.

Deep down in, he’s a soft boy. Please don’t go too rough, you’ll scare him.

He could get in a few punches, some really good ones. But he really wants to leave as soon as possible and at the perfect moment he’ll zoom off

In the end, he’s all bark and no bite.

Try not to hurt him. He’s precious

80% fight able

Hyunjae

Gosh, he’s freaking annoying. Who wouldn’t want to fight him?

He’d definitely start with some trash talk, talking up how hard he’s gonna destroy you

When the real fight starts, he’d lose a little of his steam after you punch him in the mouth

Now here’s the thing: he’s gorgeous

Be careful of that. His looks are VERY distracting. Keep your eyes on the prize and ignore how cute his nose is...

Don’t rough him up too much though. Wouldn’t wanna ruin his perfect features

Overall, he wouldn’t be too much of an opponent. His punches might hurt a bit, but he wouldn’t be too good at strategizing.

Block those punches and victory is yours!

85% fightable

Juyeon

I’m almost convinced that Juyeon could beat you pretty good in a fight

He’s tall, athletic, and outlandishly handsome (That doesn’t really apply to fighting, but it’s true)

He dances with a lot of power. Now think about all that power directed at you. You better be quaking in your boots.

Plus his yaoi hands could smack you all the way across the room. I’m sure of it.

Anyways, we all know that Juyeon can be a little... weird at times.

If you confuse him then you might get away without sustaining a ton of injuries

But once he gets focused on something, it’s kinda hard to tear him away

You have a small window for your confusion tactics. If you miss it, oh man, I’ll be praying for your safety

He’s a very easygoing boy, so the chances of wanting to fight him shouldn’t be too high though. Right?

30% fightable

Kevin

I’m sorry, but Kevin would be a little bit of an easy fight

He’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong

But could he hold up in a fight? Ehh...

He can talk smack. He’s very good at talking smack

But not so good at backing it up.

Now he won’t be completely defenseless. He’ll retaliate a bit, maybe with a punch to the kidney or another vital organ

Keep your guard up, don’t let him scare you with his threats, and you’ll be good to go

He’ll probably try to make a joke out of the whole situation, trying to calm your mood down

Don’t laugh. It’s going to be really funny, but don’t give in. It’ll give him the upper hand

He’ll surrender fairly quickly and you’ll be victorious

90% fightable

New

Oh Chanhee....

He’d be completely flustered, trying to figure out how he got in this situation

While he’s thinking about it, you strike.

He’ll yell for help and someone might hear him. If you’re gonna take him down, you gotta find a secluded place

An alleyway would be the perfect place

Or better yet, catch him when he’s with Sunwoo and he might even back you up

He’s kinda small, so it won’t be too hard to overpower him

He’ll squirm a bit, so you gotta watch out for those long limbs

This will definitely get the message across, and he won’t try to cross you again

The memory of you beating the crap out of him will stop him from hurting you ever again

It’s a surefire way to get him to leave you alone

95% fightable

Now don’t let him fool you

He looks so soft and nonthreatening, but deep down in he’s a lil scary

The way he dances is intense and powerful just like Juyeon

He’ll get all up in your face

Even distracting you with aegyo and the sort

On the inside, he’s very scared

His screams will break your eardrums, so bring some earplugs with you

You’ll only have a short amount of time to show him who’s boss because someone will surely hear him

People halfway around the world could hear him

If he had the upper hand though, you’d be in for a ride

He’s quick and silent

If you catch him off guard, that’s the best strategy. He’ll be too shocked to put up a fight

50% fightable

Haknyeon

Hakneyon is another easygoing guy

He might think it’s a big joke when you start trying to rough him up

Make sure he knows you mean business and the real fight will begin

He’s pretty good overall and you might have a bit of a hard time

Keep up your defense and try to be quicker than him

He’s not as quick as Q, so it’s easier to land some punches

He’s also very distracting. You need to withstand all the jokes and wild dances he throws your way

He’ll surrender once you’ve gotten the point across

I’m pretty sure he’ll let bygones be bygones and maybe give you a hug before you walk away

65% fightable

Hwall

He’s another one who I think would be easy to fight

Although if you’re near weapons, such as a bow and arrow, you better run

His aim is freaking impressive

The flashy clothes he wears may distract you

Although, he does make some questionable fashion decisions, so that could be a motivator for a fight

He’ll try his hardest to fight you off

He really will

It might shock you how strong he actually is

His endurance is really amazing, so take that into consideration

Remember that he gets injured easily so don’t go too hard on him

The Boyz needs their dance king

70% fightable

Sunwoo

My suggestion: try to avoid him as much as possible

I’m entirely convinced that he could rap you to death. I don’t know how, but he could

The insults he throws in his raps are enough to emotionally cripple even the strongest of opponents

He’ll even go so far as to laugh at you when you’re down

On top of that, he’s strong

None of this is looking good for you

The only thing I can see that would help you is to outsmart him at something

If you hurt his pride a bit, he may falter

This man shows no mercy

Please don’t fight him

You’ll definitely regret it

15% fightable

Eric

Eric wants to be friends with everyone, so he’ll be a little hurt that you want to fight him

This one is a little unexpected though

Sure he’ll talk your ear off, but he’s actually good

He’s quick and pretty strong

Years of playing baseball has given him an edge, so be really careful of that

Now he’s sensitive

If you get into his head, maybe threaten him a bit, he’ll most likely get a little freaked out

If you can catch him off guard or scare him a bit, that’ll give you a good chance to win

Dodge his punches and attack when you can

35% fightable

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writerthreads · 5 years ago

Text

A mean stance on writer’s block

>> writerthreads on Instagram

This post is pretty blunt, so skip this if you’re easily offended or emotional! Anyways, have a great day and stay safe! WASH YOUR HANDS

Firstly, I believe that writer’s block is bullshit. I use “oh I’ve got writer’s block” as an excuse for my lack of effort to write. I have seen (and made) tips about overcoming writer’s block, but I think most tips don’t work that well for me, except for the comics sans one.

If you want to be a full-time writer, you can’t wait ‘till inspiration strikes to write— this isn’t going to sustain your life economically, especially when your publisher or editor needs your work done by a certain date.

You need to have a rigid writing schedule if you want to be an full-time writer. A prolonged writer’s block is nothing but an excuse, and as Jhumpa Lahiri said for The Times, “if one sticks to a schedule and tries to write on a regular basis, something will eventually come.”

Even if you can write well on certain days, you can write absolute crap then edit it afterwards when you’re feeling better. Although this works for me, it might not have the same effect on you. Everybody is different, this is how I overcome writer’s block, and I hope this helps.

Even if you’re out of creative juices, you have to force yourself to write at least something. It’s like when you’re running up a hill and feel absolutely exhausted— you keep running, because you know that you’ll be running down sooner than you think.

#writing advice #story writing #writing inspiration #writing #wattpad writer #teen writer #writers block #writers #writers on tumblr #writer #writing prompt #writing tips

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feelingsinwinter · 5 years ago

Text

Asked by @journeythroughtherain

So, I picked one from each prompt list, so you can choose which one you want to do the most! From the first list: WinterIron 7 - “Aren’t you a little old for trick or treating?”. From the second: WinterIron, Spells and Curses, 41. “How can I calm down!? I have a tail!”

Tony bent, picking up his pen from where it had fallen and Bucky stared.

Tony’s well-rounded ass was a marvel in itself. The muscular kind but with just the right touch of softness. Bucky could only imagine how it must felt under his hands, how tender it would be, how the flesh would give under his kneading fingers. The firm muscles would be amazing too and Bucky died a little inside at the idea.

He sighed and choked on it when Steve elbowed him in the ribs.

“Bucky,” he hissed, “you’re doing it again.”

On the top of his head, Bucky felt his ears flattening against his skull, both in embarrassment and irritation. Sad but resigned, Bucky pouted before sitting on the nearest stool. He bit back a whimper when his tail, wagging furiously, got stuck between his ass and his seat.

It was the only way he knew of to keep it from moving like the worst give-away.

From his position on the fridge, Clint sniggered.

It was all his fault anyway. The bastard, as soon as Tony had entered the kitchen, had thrown a pop-corn which had hit the pen stuck behind Tony’s ear. Following gravity’s law, the pen had fallen and Tony had bent to retrieve it, probably cursing all the while but Bucky had been deaf to it, only registering the engineer’s lovely voice. Even cursing madly and growling, Tony’s voice held something magical to Bucky’s ears. That they were now even more sensitive only made it worse.

Clint knew what it would cause, had done it anyway.

Clint was dead but unaware of it.

Sniffling pitifully, tears stinging the corner of his eyes, Bucky stared at his half-emptied plate, trying to will away the hot, breath-taking pain erupting from his stuck tail.

Bucky had been shot, kicked in the nuts, had been sliced like a pig, operated on while awake but nothing compared to the insufferable agony of a stuck tail. A hand laid on his shoulder and he almost jumped out of his seat but kind, warm brown eyes were looking at him, flickers of gold shining in them and Bucky relaxed instantly.

“You ok there, Bucka-r-oo?” Tony looked worried and Bucky had to resist the urge to stuck his elbow in Steve’s ribs since the bastard was hiding his chuckles behind his hand, Bucky could hear him.

“M’not hungry,” Bucky mumbled with a frown, looking back down at his plate and glaring at it.

There was a beat of a silence and Tony said: “Okay.” before turning around and leaving. Without the coffee he had come for.

Once Bucky was certain Tony was out of hearing range, he looked up at Clint, still nestled atop the fridge.

The archer yelped.

[beware the read more]

***

In retrospect, Bucky should have known better than to pick up a wand when they went out on a mission for the umpteeth piece of crap who thought October was the best time to fuck with magic. He should have, but at the time, tired and annoyed by the sheer number of wannabe wizards who thought October and Halloween would grant them the powers they’ve been dreaming of for whoever knew how long. The team had since long lost track of their mission and their number.

At first they counted, amused in a grim way, but they dropped it when they started taking turns to go on mission. They couldn’t keep up if they all went all the time, some were humans and needed rest, others needed to eat in order to sustain and replace the energy they burnt when on a mission.

This time Bucky was on the field and he wasn’t even that tired but annoyed and he had lost all patience four missions ago and this time he couldn’t wait for a special team to take its sweet time to arrive and retrieve the wand. What could go wrong?

What could go wrong indeed. The shifting had taken him by surprise, a piercing kind of pain that had sent him howling to the ground as bones and muscles shifted, snapping and breaking in a sick concert.

When Dr. Strange had arrived, Bucky was restrained and snarling, eyes burning bright gold. His body was an infernal mix between human and wolf, the kind seen in movie that could never quite retranscribe the nightmarish shape of a werewolf. Dark lips pulled up over long, deadly fangs glistening with drool as a low growl rolled up from his throat.

The Master of the Mystic Arts had found a way to reverse the process but only to a point. Since the shifting was still in progress when he arrived, Strange had managed to regress it a bit. Since then, Bucky was sporting a long, furry tail and tufty ears, both reacting to any and every of his mood and broadcasting it to the whole world to see.

Which wouldn’t have been too much of a problem, Bucky was good at keeping a tight leash on his emotions. Except where Tony was concerned. It hadn’t taken long for his tail to waggle as soon as Tony’s ass came into view, for his ears to point forward as soon as the man was in hearing range. His tail also wriggled at the smallest compliment, at the slightest glance, at the barest touch. Anything from Tony and his wolf features lost all common-sense.

Of course, then, how was he supposed to hide his stupid, ridiculous, crush?

Aside from Tony who seemed entirely oblivious to it, the whole team had picked up on it and while Bruce stayed quiet and understanding, Natasha had now that insufferable knowing smirk gracing her lips on a daily basis, Steve had a shit-eating grin that wouldn’t quit and let’s not talk about Clint who was a pain in the ass 24/7.

***

Bucky hid on his floor the next day. Tony had been avoiding him since the kitchen episode, nothing all too obvious but if there was one thing Bucky was mindful of, it was Tony. The genius hadn’t come up to refill his coffee which he had come for in the first place before Clint proved to be an asshole once again. Since then, he hadn’t been seen, not coming for movie night either. Sometimes Tony stayed in his lab to work on some important project but at the moment Bucky knew there was nothing keeping the genius’ mind busy. Except for the usual stuff.

So, Tony was avoiding him. He said as much to Steve, explaining his theory all the while going back and forth in front of the couch where his friend was sitting calmly.

Bucky felt like a lion in a cage. Or, rather, like a wolf in a bear-trap. His ears were slightly going backward, open but not as straight as they would be in a common situation. His tail hung low, tense, and the fur on it slightly raised.

“Why don’t you go and talk to him? I don’t know, I heard communication helped in the process of solving problems.”

Bucky snarled, the sound wild and violent, and froze guiltily as soon as he realized what he had done.

“Yeah, right, because going to him and talk it out, as I am, is a brilliant idea. What about you take some classes in making plans, sounds like you got rusty,” he growled, pacing some more.

Since the wand bullshit, there was always an underlying of violence, coiled tight in his muscles and waiting for the smallest excuse to explode in a show of brutality. He was grateful that Strange’s work had getting rid of the claws and fangs. Talking with oversized teeth would have been difficult, if not impossible, and the frustration might have driven him nuts. Also, the claws would have been dangerous for everyone involved. Bucky was already a hazard, he didn’t need any claws or fangs to make it worse.

“You should calm down,” Steve said placatingly, keeping his hands carefully in his lap. Raising them in order to appease Bucky might have the opposite result since wolves took that kind of gesture as a threat.

Bucky’s lips quivered, holding back another threatening sound. He glared at Steve and sat in the armchair. Only to jump back on his feet, a loud, angry snarl spilling from his lips when he sat on his tail.

“How am I supposed to calm down,” he roared, anger and despair mingling tight together in a sad mix, “when I have a fucking goddamn tail!”

Steve opened his mouth, his face pinched in that concerned way Bucky knew would lead to some appeasing bullshit that would give no result. Growling at his friend, Bucky stomped his way out of the room. The elevator’s doors opened for him, courtesy of JARVIS, and Bucky felt robbed from the possibility of slamming the door on his way out.

***

Anger and frustration burned in his guts as Bucky made his way up to the roof. Steve would let him be, at least for a while. Would give him some space and time to calm down. Then he would come back with his patented look of disappointment and spill all those nice crap supposed to lift Bucky’s hopes up.

Tony was so far out of Bucky’s league, there wasn’t even a way it could happen. Also, there was something deeply wrong about Bucky’s body reaction as soon as the man was around. The deep fluttering feeling made him queasy, it was worse than being sick and it wouldn’t go away no matter how hard Bucky tried to shove it down. The constant need of touching was unbearable but it had became infernal as soon as the spell had hit him. He was constantly longing for Tony’s eyes and have them on him, there was always those wondering thoughts about how Tony’s fingers would feel on him.

He knew how it felt, in a way. Tony was a very tactile person, always touching for a reason or another. A pat on the back, a hand on the shoulder, a small touch on the arm or a one-arm hug, any and everything. But Tony always retreated too fast, too quick, as if expecting rejection if he stayed for too long while Bucky yearned for more without daring to ask for it.

He sat carefully on the edge, keeping his tail out of the way and let his feet dangling in the void beneath. Bucky closed his eyes, smiling softly when a gush of air hit his face. It was cold outside, mid-October had brought its particular smell and the crisp air of Fall.

Natasha, Clint and Bruce were outside on another mission while Steve, Bucky and Tony rested from the previous one. The team had shifted since Bucky’s misadventure.

The burning pit of anger was settling, its glowing embers fading in the face of the cold, refreshing air and the calm of the night. Well, as much as New-York could be in the middle of October with Halloween approaching.

Footsteps made him tense but when Tony sat beside him, an arm length of distance between them, Bucky hesitated. The distance made him anxious and unsure but Tony’s presence and his smell made him want to relax and bask in it.

“Steve told me you were here,” Tony said quietly, looking straight ahead with his shoulders up to his ears.

Fucking bastard couldn’t leave it alone, finally. Had gone right to Tony and who knew what he had said to convince Tony to come up there.

“He shouldn’t have,” Bucky growled and Tony tensed furthermore, his back hunched and Bucky felt his guts twist in shame and guilt, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. “What did I do?” He asked sullenly, feeling his own shoulders drop and his goddamn ears drooping sadly.

Tony startled and looked at him, eyes wide. “What did you do?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky answered slowly, frowning in confusion. he made a gesture toward Tony: “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague lately. You didn’t even invited me to try out the ray of death we’ve been working on before something went wrong.”

Tony stared at him. “You are mad at me!” He protested, pointing accusingly at Bucky.

“No, I’m not! Why would I be mad at you??”

“Because it’s my fault if you’re like that!”

“What the fuck Tony! I picked up the godddamn wand on my fucking own, thank you very much!”

“But you wouldn’t have if you hadn’t gone there in my stead!”

Silence fell suddenly and they stared at each other, panting slightly. Bucky groaned and covered his face with his hands while Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So, if I gathered it right,” Bucky said through his palms. “You think I’m mad at you because you were so exhausted you couldn’t walk straight anymore, so I proposed to you to go on the mission for you so you could rest for once. So you think it’s your fault if I, as a grown-up, made a decision of my own to pick up a not secured wand?”

Tony sniffed and dropped his hand in his lap. He shrugged. “Said like that, it sounds stupid.”

“I can see why you’d think I’m mad at you, I guess,” Bucky mumbled, thinking back on the last few days. “But I’m not. Mad, that is. M’not blaming you either,” he added softly.

Tony looked at him. Slowly, his eyes trailed up and stared at the tufty things on top of Bucky’s head. They were pointed toward him, relaxed in a way. Attentive.

“You’re not?”

“Nope,” Bucky answered, popping it and smiling when it drew a snort out of Tony. “If I’m mad at something, I’m mad at all those batshit crazy wannabe wizards,” he grumbled. “What’s wrong with them.”

“Halloween,” Tony said immediately, looking alternatively between Bucky’s ears and Bucky’s eyes, a small smile stretching his lips. Slowly, almost shyly in a way Tony rarely was, he asked: “Can I touch them?”

Bucky blinked, taken aback. Butterflies rose in his belly, fluttering all around. His heart hammered against his ribs. Behind him, his tail thudded against the roof’s ground and Bucky felt his cheeks warming up. “Yes. Please.”

Tony smiled, something sweet and soft and Bucky held back a whine as his tail thudded harder. Slowly, Tony scooted closer until they were side by side, Bucky’s left plastered against Tony’s right. Tony lifted his hands, his eyes going from Bucky’s face to the ears on top of it, watching Bucky’s reaction as his fingers finally made contact with his ears.

Gently, Tony petted them, scratching behind them and, with a touch of hesitation, carding his fingers through Bucky’s strands and coming back to the ears.

Bucky felt himself melt as he leaned against Tony’s shoulders, closing his eyes, a happy rumble thundering softly in his chest.

***

Later, when the chill of the air became too cold to be comfortable, they made their way down to the workshop where they settled on the ratty couch they usually sat on while discussing ideas. If they, later on, agreed on a date as soon as the craziness of Halloween died down, it was nobody’s business but their own.

Steve smiled as soon as he heard about it, smug as fuck. Smiling softly, Bucky kneed him and, as Steve yelped and fell, thanked him.

#fanfic #winter writes #winteriron #getting together #misunderstanding

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rwbyconversations · 6 years ago

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“It was never about that,” or why Sun went to Menagerie

One of my favorite characters in RWBY is the absolute madlad himself, Sun Wukong. Be it his constant charisma, Michael’s consistently great vocal performance, his fantastic weapons and two of the better fights in their respective volumes, Sun has constantly been near or even in the top ten list of my favorite characters of the show. Perhaps the largest reason for that though is how Sun is a very consistent character in his own right.

One of the more controversial choices Sun has made however was his following of Blake to Menagerie in Volume 4. Following this Sun got accusations of being a stalker, of only going so he could have sex with Blake, of being someone who didn’t care for Blake as a person beyond wanting what he couldn’t have. To which I say, “It’s OK for you to have bad opinions.”

Regardless. I think this take on Sun is quite unfair, and as such, today I’d like to explain why Sun went to Menagerie and why he wasn’t doing it just to kiss Blake. Also be warned that the end of this post has spoilers for Volume 6 Chapter 1. Thanks to @fakebrandon for supplying many of the images in this post.

(how can anyone hate this pure lad istg)

1) Miscommunication and Sun’s bullheadedness

You know how I said Sun’s a consistent character throughout the whole show? I wasn’t kidding, even as far back as Volume 2.

Sun may not be as good a leader as Ruby, but he does get the core idea of what Ozpin taught Ruby (and she subsequently taught Jaune) in Volume 1- strength in unity. Ruby phrases it as how the leader must put their team before themselves, Sun instead sees it as working together as a group to overcome what one person cannot. His ideals are consistent about this- Sun always tries to help and when he can, he gets people involved. It’s quite fitting then that Sun is one of the students who takes charge during the Fall of Beacon, trying to get everyone out along with Port and Oobleck.

Butting his head in is one of Sun’s most enduring traits, one fitting for the Monkey King. Unfortunately it’s also one that causes him no end of strife in Volume 4 when he goes after Blake.

Sun, I love you, but what possessed you to think this was a good idea beyond the cool factor?

It’s largely due to miscommunication that Sun follows Blake- in his own words he thinks she’s going on a “one-woman rampage against the White Fang!” Sun’s moral compass refuses to let him sit by while he thinks Blake is risking life and limb on what’s effectively a suicide mission. Notice how Sun’s crush on Blake never comes up in the conversation, in fact barring Sun making a few cases of verbal innuendo, it’s never addressed directly in Volume 4. Sun is a bit flirty during the Sea Dragon fight with his quips-

Keep in mind how Blake looks in these GIFs... we’ll be coming back to this later

But he doesn’t take it past that. He doesn’t even go for anything intimate like a hug once the Grimm has been destroyed. Sun goes for, of all things, a high-five.

While yes, Sun could have approached Blake in a less foolish manner and gotten himself a few less slaps in the process, it fits his character to be so brazen. Sun’s always been someone who wants to help his friends, and that brazen, cocksure attitude was what Blake needed when she was recovering; someone who wanted to help her, but didn’t want anything from it. Keep in mind that Sun never tries to take advantage of Blake while she recovers, no hugs, kisses or even finger guns. Remember, he thought she was going on a vengeance mission, his crush never factors into it on a conscious level- no doubt it influenced his decision to stick the rest of SSN on a bus to offscreen land on a subconscious level, but Sun as a character has always remained true to his roots of getting involved for better or for worse. And in this case, for the better. And his following Blake is just nailing that trait of his to the wall.

2) Blake needed someone to help her learn to stop running

Blake had a bad habit of running from her problems in the early days of RWBY- she ran from her parents when they left the White Fang, she ran from Adam when he became a kill-happy psycho, and she ran from Beacon when said psycho decided to help Yang on a radical weight-loss program involving her limb. The one time she refuses to run at the Fall of Beacon, Adam punishes her for it with a gut-stab and a fresh amputation. So once she could, Blake ran. She ran before Yang had even regained consciousness from the wound sustained for Blake, apparently only staying on Patch long enough to make sure everyone on-board got out alive before running for the hills.

While Sun followed Blake because he assumed she was going to war, Sun serves a vital purpose in Blake’s character arc of getting her to stop running from her problems and, at least partly, get her to stop blaming herself for the actions others take.

Blake only really proves Sun’s point during their confrontations across the last third of Volume 4- Blake is aggressive, outright slapping him twice, hard enough that he felt pain from it, something Arryn herself has felt was out of character for her. Even in spite of that he puts himself at risk to secure the scroll, taking a nasty shot to the shoulder in the first confrontation with Ilia. When Sun wakes up, Blake immediately begins making his injury about her and why she left, even ordering him to shut up at one point.

But Sun doesn’t give in to anger or snap at her like Adam would. Instead Sun waits for her to finish before calmly and gently calling Blake on her bullshit. Sun bluntly tells Blake that while she can make her choices...

This is Sun at his most solemn and quiet as he speaks to Blake, Michael kills it with his performance here. Sun only puts the pressure on Blake to finally make her realize the flaws in her self-loathing, to pull her out of the darkness that she believes her past with the White Fang has drenched her in and into the light of acceptance and redemption. Or as Like Morning Follows Night put it:

Life's not a game you can play to get even We all make mistakes, but we need to move on I know that you hate where you strayed Forgiving yourself is the only way Just look ahead, yesterday is gone

The kicker is, this works. Thanks to Sun helping to pull her out of her funk, the Blake we see in Volume 5 is much more balanced as an individual. She still looks on the past with regret, but now is more set on striding forward and changing the future, emboldened by the mistakes of the past. While Ghira and Kali would have pulled Blake back from the brink with the time, acceptance and love that only a parent can provide, and please do not assume I am undermining the valuable part they played in Blake’s recovery, Sun not just placidly taking Blake’s crap gives her the reality call that neither Ghira or Kali could have provided. Kali and Ghira gave Blake a home to recover in physically, and Sun gave her the confrontation she needed to confront her past emotionally. Sun was the only person Blake met at Beacon who really could provide that reality check- Weiss would be shot on sight, Ruby would be too pure, Yang too caught up in her own deep-rooted issues. Sun was the only person able to break her walls down and let the light shine on her dark psyche. The mindset that Sun helps her develop is a mindset that Blake carries into her next song, This Time, a duet with Ghira.

This time The ways of the past we'll get over We'll climb Enlighten a new state of mind And now I'll stand with you shoulder to shoulder Out of the ashes a new flame ignite Rise up from shadows and into the light

That lesson that Sun teaches Blake goes on to play a vital role in Volume 5- Blake uses those teachings to reach out to Ilia, to be there for her even though Ilia won’t want her to be there (Blake also spells out in this scene what I spent the past few paragraphs saying- she tried to push Sun out but his refusal forced her to better herself).

And when Blake finishes, Sun just has this quiet, almost proud smile on his face. The student has become the mentor, and Sun’s proud to see Blake stepping up and resolving to help someone like he helped her. After all, you should always get your friends involved.

This guy is a literal ray of sunshine and even if you don’t ship them I hope you can appreciate how well their dynamic works.

3) “It was never about that!”

I hope by this point I’ve made it clear that Sun’s intentions were far from romantic when he followed Blake, and that they were the last thing on his mind when he was on the island with her. Sun’s his usual charming self at a few points but barring an awkwardly hilarious scene with Ghira, Sun never tries to put the moves on Blake during Volumes 4 or 5, unless you want to classify “the moves” as helping beat up on Blake’s abuser.

“All women are queens Adam!”

“If she breathes, she’s a THOT!”

Sun and Blake have a lot of adorably cute moments in the Volume 5 finale as the Battle of Haven winds down. In those above GIFs of Sun saying “My hero!” Look how exasperated Blake is. Now look at her.

Her smile is genuine, it reaches her eyes and her ears perk up. That’s a smile of genuine gratitude. Remember when I told you to keep her stiffness in the V4 GIFs in mind? Still do that, but remember it in this case.

It’s only now after nearly two entire volumes that Sun actually offers a flirtatious line towards Blane- “No promises,” he quips as he rushes off into battle, giving Blake the chance to be the hero and help save her team from Hazel, Emerald and Mercury. He even tugs Blake towards her team after all the fighting has ceased, letting Blake have her chance to finally reconnect with her team- Sun, again, getting friends involved when he can.

This is the most intimate thing Sun instigates all show and he only does it after expressly earning Blake’s trust and admiration. Also dayum Sun you smooth boi

Sun sadly leaves the party in the next episode, since now that he’s helped Blake he has to go help the team he ditched in Mistral. Sun, as Michael put it in a panel pre-Volume 6, pulls his head out of his ass and decides to help his own team. They were fine while he helped Blake, but now that she’s back in the team’s safe hands, Sun needs to sort his own business out. Also he might just hate the cold, not ruling anything out.

You can tell how close Sun and Blake have gotten just by the proximity of which they stand beside each other. When they spoke on the boat in V4 there was a large gap between them, but now they’re almost bumping shoulders.

Blake and Sun’s conversation serves as the capstone of Blake and Sun’s development across Volumes 4 and 5. Sun gently tells Blake that she doesn’t need him now that she’s back with her own team, and Blake is almost... resistant to him going. She’s grown used to Sun’s presence, a far cry from how she was in Volume 4, and part of her isn’t really ready to let go of her friend just yet. Sun obviously is holding a candle, but their conversation ends on a bittersweet note, with both acknowledging that Blake has some baggage to deal with, but Sun is confident that Blake can handle herself with the aid of RWBY. That said, he doesn’t rule out a reunion and another chance to rekindle that spark, confident that they’ll reunite. And Blake...

“Platonic” my ass, Blake’s even doing the Princess Diaries heel-lift!

While leaving Blake at the train to Argus, Neptune weighs in and feels like Sun is letting Blake go. Sun bluntly shoots that down, saying the line “It was never about that.” Because for Sun, it was never about pursuing Blake romantically when he went after her. Sun saw a friend, an ally who he cared for deeply, diving into a well of self-loathing and running off on what he thought was a suicide mission, so he dived in right after her to pry her free from the darkness. Does Sun care for Blake romantically? Without a shadow of a doubt. But Sun did not see a girl wrought with depression and anxiety and saw a romantic conquest, he’s not some shallow blunderhead like some people like to portray him as. Was he insensitive in his not coming forward immediately? Perhaps, but the two have moved on from that incident.

To conclude, Sun is a fundamentally good person, a literal ray of sunshine who saw a friend of his in peril and put his own life on hold to help her. While Sun was likely influenced subconsciously by his crush for Blake, his overriding desire to help a friend in need was the primary motivation- in fact, Sun barely even touches Blake outside of friendly banter scenes. He never has an obvious romantic intent with Blake and only has her best interests at heart. Along with Blake’s parents, he provides a stable foundation for Blake to recover, and she in turn helps him get over the grudge he had with Ilia without him ever realizing it. Sun never seeks to take advantage of Blake in her fraught state of mind and his bond with her is a lifelong commitment to have each other’s backs. Come rain or shine, I know they’ll meet again and it’ll be like these two companions never parted ways to begin with.

Because that’s Sun, at his core; you should always get friends involved, come rain or shine. And when he’s around, you bet he shines.

Thank you for reading.

And of course, never forget the raw glorious power of the gun-chucks.

#rwby #sun wukong #blake belladonna #black sun #eclipse #rwby analysis #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna #adam taurus #ilia amitola #neptune vasilias #blake/sun #sun is such a good character WHY ARE PEOPLE DUNKING ON HIM #like morning follows night #this time #character analysis #rwby volume 6 chapter 1 spoilers

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