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highqueenofelfhame · 3 years ago

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rowaelin month day ten

rowaelin month day ten -- single parents. masterlist // buy me a ko-fi // redbubble

The morning truly couldn’t have been going worse. Aelin had woken up to the nanny telling her she’d come down with the stomach flu. Aelin wasn’t cruel enough to tell the poor girl she had to work through it; instead encouraging her to drink as much water as she could and get some much-needed rest. Evangeline had apologized profusely, but Aelin was having none of it. She reassured her that she could figure it out.

It turned out she couldn’t. Her mother and father both worked sixty hours a week. Aelin knew that her mother would take a day if Aelin called, but she couldn’t bring herself to make the call and disrupt her week. Evie’s father had died in a car crash before she was even born. Everyone who was a viable option worked full-time jobs, leaving her three-year-old in her hands. She could call out, but she had a mountain of a workload that she’d left last night, reassuring herself she would get it done today. Everything she needed was at her office, so working from home was out of the question. All signs were pointing to an impromptu “bring your child to work” day.

The CEO of the company was a good friend of hers, and Aelin knew that Dorian wouldn’t mind seeing his goddaughter toddling around the office. In fact, she knew that he would eventually steal her away for a snack time at some point so Aelin could get some work done. It would likely be a snack that wasn’t mommy approved, but she would give him a free pass today.

It would be okay, she reassured herself as she struggled to get Evie to cooperate with getting her tiny arms through her yellow long-sleeved shirt. She was mumbling in an indecipherable language as Aelin nodded along, chiming in here and there like she understood every word. The reality was that she only understood a handful of words. One of them was juice, so Aelin made a mental note to make her a full cup of juice for the car ride to the office to keep her happy.

It didn’t take long to brush her hair into the tiniest pigtails to exist, with two little orange bows holding them in place. By the time she was fully dressed in her fall garb, complete with a tiny gray vest so cute that Aelin wanted to cry, she looked like a baby Gap model. Without a doubt, everyone at the office would be cooing over how precious she looked the second they walked through the door.

“Where going?” Evie inquired, her little head tilting to the side as Aelin packed her go-bag full of snacks and an outfit change just in case.

“Momma’s gotta go to work today, baby. You get to come, too. Do you want to see Uncle Dorian?” At the mention of Dorian, Evie’s eyes lit up as a broad smile pushed her chubby cheeks up until her eyes squinted closed. Aelin grinned and kissed her cheeks until she giggled wildly. Thank the gods that Evie was in a good mood today. Some mornings she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, fussy as all get out while Aelin tried to push along their morning. Thankfully today, she was full of smiles and giggles. It would make everything much easier if she cooperated.

After grabbing a sippy cup full of apple juice and shoving the bottle in her bag, making yet another note to put it in the fridge in the break room when she arrived at the office, she swooped Evie into her arms, and they were on their way.

Upon arriving at the office, Aelin was right. The two receptionists immediately fell in love with Evie’s tiny pigtails and her outfit. They cooed over her bright eyes, twins to Aelin’s own. It took longer than usual to make it to the elevator, where even several men commented on how adorable she was. It brought a smile to her face, but it dropped when she thought of her office neighbor.

Rowan Whitethorn was the hardass of the office. She was pretty positive that he hated her, and there was nothing she could do to change his mind. They spent their days arguing back and forth about anything and everything. Some days she was sure that he only did it to get a rise out of her.

Aelin had never seen him smile-- he only scowled. His assistant was constantly rushing around, losing his damn mind trying to meet all of Rowan’s demands in a day. More than once, she’d caught tidbits of his conversations with Aelin’s own assistant, the poor boy begging to swap just for a single day. Aelin could only imagine what Rowan would say about Evie being such a workplace distraction. She was positive there would be complaints about her squeals and giggles that he would hear through the wall.

There was truly nothing she could do, though. Too much needed to be done at work to take a personal day, and Evie was typically well behaved enough to be occupied until her mom got off work and could pick her up.

As she made her way down the hall, everyone oohed and ahhed over Evie. Aelin thanked everyone for their compliments, her heart spilling over with joy. Until she saw Rowan in the kitchen while she put away the juice. He was making coffee and, upon noticing Evie in her arms, an emotion she couldn’t quite place flickered over his face.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” he said, eyes going from her pigtails down to the boots on her tiny feet.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She closed the fridge door and left the kitchen, gone as quickly as she had come. When she arrived in her office, she shut the door and put Evie down, watching as she ran straight for the couch and flopped over the side with a giggle bubbling out of her lips.

The single mother took a few minutes to take Evie’s toys out of her bag, even laying a few puffy snacks out on the table for her to snack on while she played. She went straight for them as quickly as Aelin sprinkled them out of the container. Aelin chuckled as she watched her for a moment, hands on her hips while she decided she was okay to sit at her desk and begin her work.

Evie was surprisingly self-sufficient while Aelin started her daily tasks. She played with the toys her mother provided and munched on her treats. Aelin heard a lot of babbling and a slew of giggles, a loud squeal pulling her from her work as her door opened.

Dorian leaned in the doorway, giving her a running start until he followed, darting across the room to scoop Evie into his arms. He spun her in circles with her legs flying behind her. She was laughing in a way that she only did with Dorian. Aelin seldom got that sound to come out of her daughter, but somehow, she wouldn’t change it for anything.

“I heard tales of a little princess fighting dragons in my office,” he said to no one in particular, but Evie seemed to understand that she was the princess. If there was anything that she liked in this world, it was being called a princess. She understood that word more than anything because Aelin read her fairy tales of princesses every night. Tangled was constantly on their TV, only to be replaced by Beauty and the Beast. They utterly enchanted her, and everyone in her life was constantly calling her a princess. She loved it.

The giggling continued while he tickled her sides and blew raspberries on her belly until the shrieking got so intense he made a face at Aelin and merely brought her into a tight hug as he said, “Sorry. Nanny out today?”

“She’s got a stomach bug. I had no other options; I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You know I love any chance I get to see her. I’m not going to penalize you for being a mother, Aelin.” Evie was chomping her teeth near Dorian’s face, causing her best friend to laugh and hold her at arm’s length. “I’ll even take her across the hall for a bit so you can get more done.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” she replied, sighing and leaning back in her seat. Aelin really did have so much to do, to the point that she couldn’t even bring herself to tell him he didn’t have to do that. She would take whatever help she could get.

Her door was left open as he took Evie out into the hall, Aelin noticing that they weren’t going in the direction of his office but rather toward the kitchen. Her eyes rolled as she swiveled in her chair to face her computer and really dive into her work, leaning forward and exhaling a deep breath, willing herself to focus.

Quite a bit of time passed, and she was able to get a considerable amount of work completed. All of her emails had been caught up when Dorian edged into her office and cleared his throat. Aelin looked up, half expecting Evie’s outfit to be ruined by chocolate, but her little ray of sunshine was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?”

“I… may have taken a phone call and looked away for two minutes, and she vanished.”

“What?” Aelin was on her feet in an instant, rushing across her office and out into the hall. “What the fuck do you mean? How long has it been?”

“Since I lost her and started looking for her? Half an hour. I was scared to tell you.”

“My daughter has been missing for half an hour, and you’re only just now telling me? What the fuck, Dorian?” She hit his chest rather abrasively as she shoved past him, eyes scanning every room while she ran down the hall. How she was able to do it without toppling over in her heels, she wasn’t sure. All she could feel was the panic from her heart pounding in her chest to the shaking of her hands. The roaring in her ears made everything else sound muffled and distant, like she was standing at the edge of white water rapids. Even with her hands in fists so tight she could feel them shake, nausea building up in her chest.

“Evie?” She called out, a tremor rising in her throat that caused her voice to sound shaky and weak. Tears were pricking in her ears as she turned to run back to her office. She would call down to security to see if they could scan the cameras, and call reception to see if anyone had carried her out. From there, she would--

Her heart stopped beating when she glanced into Rowan’s office. It was the office directly next to hers, and behind his desk, Rowan held a snoozing Evie. Her little fist was gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, and he seemed relaxed while he flipped through papers with one hand.

“What are you doing with my daughter?” Aelin asked, stepping into the door. A few tears of relief slipped down her cheeks, and she was quick to wipe them, lest he make an asshole comment about it.

“I told that little shit to let you know I had her,” he murmured, barely glancing up from his papers. “I think that’s the final straw. He genuinely can’t do the most basic of tasks, I--”

Rowan paused when he looked up from his work. Something soft flashed in his eyes for a split second before he continued, “She was laying on the couch by the kitchen when I found her. She babbled something about Dorian, I think, and when I looked in his office, he was on the phone arguing with someone. You looked busy, and I know you have a lot to do, and when I picked her up, she let out the biggest yawn I’ve ever seen. By the time I’d walked back to my office, she was asleep. I told my assistant to let you know. I’m sorry that he didn’t, and I’m sorry that I didn’t follow up with an e-mail or a phone call. You just seem like you could use the help so you could get work done. I’m sorry.”

Not only was it the most that Rowan had ever said to her in a single conversation, but it was the kindest she’d seen him be to anyone. He wasn’t complaining about the little bit of drool coming out of the side of Evie’s mouth and soaking into his jacket. He was just holding her like he was so at ease with the situation and truly didn’t mind.

“You don’t wear a ring, and I’ve never heard you mention a significant other. Divorced?”

“Widowed,” she replied, sitting in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. Again, his face softened as he looked down at Evie.

“She looks just like you. She’s beautiful.” Ignoring the implications of that comment, Aelin smiled softly.

“Thank you. She is… everything to me.”

“I… I have a daughter, too. Briar. My wife died two years after we were married. Briar is six now, but Evie is… so much less temperamental than B was.” Aelin tried not to let the shock show on her face. Shock that Rowan Whitethorn was a father and shock that they shared a sad history. The curiosity to ask how she had died was strong, but she wouldn’t ask. Sometimes she hated it when people asked how Sam died. It was like opening a wound all over again.

“Oh, she has her days. Don’t let this fool you,” she laughed, dragging her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know you had a daughter, either.”

Rowan flipped his computer screen so she could see it, and she was welcomed by a smiling little girl with stunning green eyes and brown ringlet curls. Her heart squeezed at the image, Rowan holding her in his lap and grinning so wide he had dimples. Rowan Whitethorn had dimples.

“She’s absolutely adorable.”

“She is.” Aelin smiled again, looking down at her hands and twisting the ring on her left finger that her parents had given her when Evie was born. It was her birthstone.

“You can keep working if you want to. I’ve got her.”

“She’s not bothering you?” There was hesitation evident in her voice as Rowan looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. He smiled, brushing a few wild strands of hair back against her head.

“Nope,” he said firmly, looking back at Aelin. “Really. You must have a lot to do if you didn’t just call in a personal day. She’s sleeping. It’s okay. I’ll bring her back when she wakes up.”

“I-- okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m positive.” Aelin chewed on her fingernail for a moment before she nodded and stood, walking across his office and toward her own. Aelin paused in the door, looking over her shoulder at the man with such a harsh reputation around the workplace. This man seemed entirely different, a man that was brushing his thumb against her daughter's side while she slept with his shirt in her tiny fist. He seemed so utterly relaxed while he adjusted their position in his chair to keep working. It was almost out of character, his offer. But she wasn’t going to complain.

Rowan Whitethorn may have been the hardass of the office, but maybe he had a soft spot after all. @rowaelinscourt

#rowaelin #rowaelin month #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #tog fic #tog fanfic #fluff #fluffy #rowaelin fluff #single parents au #briar whitethorn #evie galathynius #writing #my writing #masterlist

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

Note

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" / "Isn't it time you died?" pRE-DATING IDIOTS AKHKSHDKAJSJ

uh ohhh did i completely ignore the quote you gave me and decide to focus on only the “pre-dating idiots” part ???

Y E P

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You can count all the times you’ve encountered Loki Laufeyson on one hand.

It only takes two fingers. You’re not exactly friends.

The first time ended so well, with his torso punctured by bullets and Loki frowning across your office at you pulling the trigger with your eyes squeezed shut—the second accidental encounter in the showers was no better.

After swearing off communal showers altogether and deciding to completely avoid the psychiatric floor of the tower, you expected your days running into a god with slightly greasy hair might be over.

But he’s in your office again.

Already lounging comfortably in your chair, ankles crossed up on your desk.

He sits up when you slip in the door, trying not to bring any attention to the fact that you’re exactly seventeen minutes late, and for half a second Loki looks just as surprised as you are.

Although, Loki doesn’t whip out a taser with a quick shriek of fright and jolt his body with a good 50,000 volts of pure electricity.

Nope, you’ve got that part covered.

You weren’t expecting him to actually pass out, but he crumples onto your desk before you’ve caught your breath, eyes rolling back in his head.

Twitching.

His mouth is still half open with the almost “not you agai—” he was trying to get out.

Note to self: tasing a god works much better than shooting him.

“What the hell are you doing in here??” You hiss, tossing the taser on your desk and shoving him hard in the arm.

Loki just…jiggles.

Okay, you weren’t expecting him to be that deeply unconscious.

“Loki?”

No response. You poke him a couple times with the end of a pencil—he just twitches a couple more times, body jolting with a few leftover sparks.

Oh god.

People come in here. Appointments, meetings, memos, your coworkers and supervisors come in here constantly, and now you have the highest secured prisoner in the tower unconscious on your desk.

You give him a good shove and hiss his name, only for him to flop onto the floor with a loud thud.

Oop.

Cringing and praying nobody heard that, you hurry to the door and shut it, just in case.

He’s out cold.

You tug a lock of his hair, flick him on the forehead, pinch his arm, and he still doesn’t move.

His skin is strangely cold, now that you’re actually touching him. Feels normal otherwise, though you didn’t really know what else to expect—I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever touched a god before.

But he seems pretty…human, up close.

Having his cheek squished into the hardwood floors is certainly helping, and oh—yep, okay, now he’s drooling.

This guy threatened you?

Power feels good, let’s just get that out there now. It’s a thrilling rush, a little fizz in your soul that you never want to lose, knowing that you just took down a god.

What you’ll actually do with him until he wakes up…yeah, that’s a good question.

After a pointless ten-minute struggle of trying to drag his body behind a filing cabinet, his legs still stick out a mile in plain sight, so you have to haul his limp ass back to your desk—under it seems to be the only option.

Common sense seems to be telling you to please, please just call security, but your idiot side of the brain is curious.

It’s just weird, why he keeps showing up in your way, out of all the other employees here; you just want to ask him. Just want to…try your hand at a little interrogating.

Knowing you have the power to knock him out might already be getting to your head.

Well, that, and Loki looks like an idiot.

That whole terrifying image you’d had of him, the one where his blue eyes were rimmed with red and flashing across tv screens with warnings, that image of him sneering at you in the showers, him unaffectedly covered in bullet holes, put there by you—gone.

All you can see—and will ever see—now is Loki, god of mischief, quite literally shoved under your desk.

Butt in the air, face smushed against the floor, arms flopping by his sides.

Almost an hour later, Maria Hill stops by, knocking on your door and peeking her head inside.

“Did you get the transmission from Hungary?”

“Working on it now,” you smile, tapping your computer. “Need anything?”

“Nope, just checking, keep it up.” She looks a little distracted, reaching up to press a button on her earpiece. “Oh! I should tell you, Loki’s being pretty cooperative today.

You blink.

“I-is he really?”

At that exact moment, of all the moments in the world, a cold hand wraps around your ankle and gives your leg a very telling, very rough tug.

You have to bite your tongue not to squeak.

“His therapist told us the session they just ended went better than ever,” Hill continues, over a paper on her clipboard as she does, “we upped his visits to three times a day, seems to be helping. Thought you might want to know since you’ve had a couple run-ins with him.”

“Nah,” you croak out when Loki squeezes your ankle harder, “don’t care!”

“Oh.” She shoots you a strange look. “Okay…well, still stay away from him if you can. He’s still extremely unstable.”

You nod vigorously, the possibilities of everything that could go wrong with having Loki hidden under your desk ricocheting around your mind.

Particularly the one scenario where his fingers crawl any higher up your leg.

Or the one where Maria Hill, who holds your fate at this company in her bare hands, finds Loki under your desk—and not at therapy—and you get fired to hell.

“You okay? Don’t look so good.”

“Just peachy!” You laugh, waving her away and going back to your computer despite the grip on your ankle tightening. “I’ll get this back to you as soon as I can.”

Thankfully she flashes you a smile and a nod and shuts the door behind her.

You immediately fumble for your taser as Loki shoves your rolling chair away from the desk, spilling out from under it with a groan.

“Don’t move,” you hiss, jumping to your feet and pointing the taser in his face. “Get up, sit in the chair. Quick.”

“Do you have to put me there? Couldn’t have possibly lain me out somewhere, given me a pillow?” He rubs his aching cheek with a scowl, fingers finding the trail of drool down to his jaw and quickly wiping it away.

You might’ve imagined it, but it sure did look like his cheeks reddened upon feeling it there.

He’s back to a dreadfully annoyed scowl, glaring daggers at you as you hold the taser all the way out in front of you, eyes wide and clearly, laughably terrified.

“You almost fooled me, mortal,” he chuckles, slowly raising empty palms to you as he sinks into your desk chair. “I thought you quit. But you haven’t scurried off quite yet, have you, hm?”

“I’m not going to let you ruin my future,” you snarl back, and by some miracle, your voice doesn’t shake. “A couple creepy guys aren’t going to force a decision like that on me.”

Loki nods, eyebrows twitching suspiciously as he looks at you sitting on the edge of your desk, your taser still at the ready.

“I’ll use it again.” You shake it, just for emphasis.

“I don’t doubt it.”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the little room.

He just stares at you.

Loki does a lot of staring, you’ve noticed. From the showers incident to passing in the halls, he’s always staring.

“To be fair, I thought the office was empty.”

You blink, dropped back into reality by his strange accent.

“Why the fuck would you just assume it was up for grabs??”

“Oh, she has a mouth on her,” Loki laughs, leaning forward in the chair.

“Fuck you.”

He spreads his arms with a smug little smile. “Have it your way. You were, might I just add…” he glances at his bare wrist. “Exactly seventeen minutes late. Little rebel.”

“And why do you know my schedule?”

Loki sighs, evidently bored with all this and annoyed that you decided to come into work today. Like a normal person.

“I observe, you only watch. I reckon I know every employee’s schedule on this floor, I have to find some way to entertain myself…” he sighs again, dramatic and it just makes you want to slap him across the face. “Don’t flatter yourself, darling. It’s not just you.”

“Don’t call me darling.” Eyebrow raised, you slide off the desk with a slight boost of confidence at the fact that he’s not just stalking you. “What about the showers, then? Or the first time you were in here?”

“Ah, the time you used me as your personal shooting range?”

“…yeah.”

Okay, maybe you’re starting to feel a little bit bad about shooting him.

“Strange workings of the universe,” he hums, looking a little too relaxed in your chair now. “Our paths keep crossing. Believe me, if I had it my way, I’d keep well away from the likes of you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re offended?” He actually looks surprised, cocking his head a tiny bit to the side. “Do you want me to like you?”

Your eyes widen—crap. “No, no, I just—that was a little mean. I mean, I, um, don’t want people to hate me, obviously, but, uh…we’re getting off-topic.”

Very smooth, self, very smooth.

Loki seems to be mildly amused.

“Hill said you were in therapy,” you quickly snap, frustrated at yourself for slipping. “But you’ve been under my desk for the past hour and a half. What’s that about?”

“See, if you hadn’t been so eager to electrocute me, I could’ve explained myself.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to—”

“Anyways,” he butts in, shaking his head, like you are the problem here, the little—

“I’m avoiding it, I thought that would be obvious.”

“Why avoid it?” You ask, and a tiny part of you is actually genuinely curious; “Therapy’s good for you.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy talking about my feelings.”

You gasp. “No…you??”

Halfway through your first snort of laughter and a chunk of snow hits you across the face.

“What the hell,” you sputter, swiping the wet slosh off your cheek. “It’s fucking August, Loki, why—”

“Beyond your comprehension,” he hums, clearly pleased with himself. “I already told you. I don’t like talking about my emotions.”

“That’s really unhealthy. Someday you’ll just explode and you’ll be miserable.”

He points at his chest with a small smile. “I’ll keep all my emotions right here, thank you. Then one day, I’ll just…die.”

“Great plan.”

“It seems to be doing just fine, given that they truly believe that I am in there, pouring out my darkest secrets to a stranger—”

“Who is in there then?”

You blinked—you blinked—and poof, there’s two Lokis.

Two.

Exactly the same, perfect clones of each other, both slightly spreading their arms in a silent what do you think?

You don’t know what to think.

“You drugged me,” you decide, blinking again in confusion and backing away. “Yeah, you drugged me, and I’m hallucinating.”

The two gods shake their heads. “Beyond your comprehension,” they repeat, a strange echo to their voices as they meld.

“So…” you rub your eyes, trying to figure out just what the hell is going on. “They’re talking to a clone of you?”

“A rather emotional one,” Loki laughs, waving a hand and the other clone fizzles into nothing. “I’m giving them the story they want, telling them all about my deranged pleas for attention, how my complete isolation led me to become starved for power and resort to seeking out drastic measures to obtain it…”

“That just makes you seem worse. You get that, right?”

He nods with a small shrug. “They have their ideas of who I am. Nothing at this point could change that, so I might as well speed along the process.”

“So that’s not the truth, then?”

“What?”

“You…being the villain.” None of this makes sense. I mean, it went downhill after you tased him, but then one snowball and two Loki’s later, it’s actually gotten worse. “The stereotypical villain, I mean.”

Loki pauses, gaze drifting away from you to the floor. “What makes you think that, mortal?”

“Just the way you said it,” you explain, “made me think that your clone is in there lying. I dunno, you just made it sound like a lie.”

The god laughs, a small, halfhearted chuckle that might even be able to be called nervous, and he pulls himself to his feet.

You catch him shoot a quick glance at your taser resting beside you, just in case.

“God of lies, da—”

The door swings open.

“I CAN EXPLAIN,” you nearly yell, bolting to the door and nearly running into agent Hill.

“What?” Papers fluttering to the ground around her, she gives you a look of pure bewilderment.

Then you turn around and understand why.

“Explain what, darling?”

Waitwaitwait.

That’s not Loki’s voice—oh god, you can recognise his voice now??

The man laughs and this time it’s you who’s doing the staring: that’s not Loki.

This man is blond.

Wearing a normal business suit.

Sitting on the edge of your desk.

“Forgive her,” he chuckles, pushing off your desk and coming to help pick up Hill’s paperwork, hand coming to rest on your back when he stands. “She’s a bit of a klutz, isn’t she?”

You gape.

Yes, get that dying fish look in your head, because at this point your head is as good as chopped off and stuck on ice.

“I’m sorry,” Hill slowly says to you, a smile starting to appear on her lips. “I didn’t know you had a meeting right now.”

Still staring.

“Oh, no, no,” Loki—or whoever this is—chuckles politely, “I stopped by unannounced, blame me if anyone.”

“And you are…”

“Laing.” Loki flashes a smile. You gape some more. “Doctor Robert Laing.”

Hill shakes his—Loki’s—hand. “Were you a new hire?”

“Ah, no…” Loki’s hand slips to your waist and you would scream, were it not for the inability for you to even lift your tongue. “I’m just here for her, just stopping by. I’m her, ah, well…you know. I’m her’s, she’s mine, that sort of thing.”

Wait.

WHAT—

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hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

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#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki slowburn #loki x reader fluff #pre-dating idiots #loki requests #loki tension #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson #loki fluff

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cgirat · 5 years ago

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i’m not always proud

brain big so this is a bandersnatch (2018) and pride (2014) crossover fic purely because theyre both set in the 80s and i think that joe & stefan would be a sweet couple. title is from thos moser by gupi ft fraxiom because im like that

joe cooper/stefan butler

Pride 1985. Joe marches proudly; lesbians and gays do support the miners, it's an act of solidarity as they're both treated unfairly by the government and the police. It's the best feeling being proud of who he is because for so long he'd hidden it for fear of how his family might look at him, he was out to practically everyone but the people that were meant to be closest to him. Within just a few months a lot has changed, he's moved in with Stephanie, he's working at a café near Gay's the Word, the pastry chef likes him enough they Joe gets to help out sometimes and the activism is going well so life is really looking up. It's a new way of living and he's getting used to it and overall he's happy with it.

Love does not seem to be something that's going to happen for Joe. He deals with that as best as he can, he doesn't try and force anything, if he goes to the bars and a man there wants him he's okay to make out. But no one asks him out or seems to be looking for commitment, he gets it they're young and he's still early into adulthood so it's whatever.

A young man seems to be loitering after the march is over with his hands in his pockets, eyes wide open and lips set in a straight line. Joe sees him across the street while Steph's abandoned him for some goth lesbian and they make eye contact for a brief moment before he looks away. Joe finds him a weird kind of beautiful, something about him is sharp and Joe doesn't look away. He wouldn't have crossed the street towards the man if he hasn't looked back at Joe. Pride is as good a time as any to be friendly.

Close up the man is shorter than Joe. He's still weirdly handsome at this distance and his dark hair and green eyes are intriguing.

"Did you have fun at the march today?"

The dude looks startled if wide eyes are anything to go by. "Uhhh, well, I didn't catch much of it, I was just on my way back home, actually."

"Oh cool, you should come to next year's march it'll be bigger and better hopefully." Joe smiles politely, getting the cue that the dudes not like him and he's prepared to turn around until he hears him speak again.

"Stefan. Me, uh. I'm Stefan." Stefan falls over his words, smiling sheepishly, revealing rows of shark teeth. His smile is endearing. He puts his hand out for Joe to shake.

"I'm Joe." he accepts Stefan's hand in a shake and Joe notes that his hand is warm but his shake isn't very confident.

They smile at each other for a bit even though it's awkward when Stefan releases Joe's hand and his own retreats to the pockets of his jacket.

"Well if you're not in a rush home feel free to come to our post pride party. It's at Gay's the Word; last years was good so hopefully, this year will be too."

Stefan smiles again. It's toothy and contagious.

They spend the rest of the night getting to know each other. Stefan isn't as closed off as Joe was a year ago, he talks about work and geeks out over computers and video games. He works at Tuckersoft and has already developed a "choose your own adventure" game based off of a book that received decent reviews. Joe thinks he's probably being modest. When he talks about it it seems very complicated and Joe instantly knows that Stefan is way smarter than he'll ever be because he knows smart, educated people things. It's like looking into the past, Stefan is 20 and he's closeted? Straight? Joe doesn't want to ask as it's none of his business no matter how much he wants to kiss him a little.

Joe and Stefan walk arm in arm to the bus stop and stay linked there while waiting. Stefan is a little drunk and so he talks a lot but Joe welcomes it. Joe's laughing at Stefan who can't seem to get over the fact that Joe's nickname is so shit.

"Bromley, of all the town's to be named after-"

"Even now I wonder if it's meant to be cute or if they're taking the piss."

Stefan huffs out a laugh, "I'm thankfully uninteresting so I don't have any nicknames." He pauses. "Having two friends helps as well, one of them is my dad but he's not the nicknaming type."

"It's lonely in the office?"

"Very." Stefan rests his head on the glass of the bus shelter. "Especially today, I wasn't even supposed to be in but my therapist forgot to tell me that she'd moved my appointment to Tuesday so I went there instead. I bet she was at the march today." he pauses for a moment. "Why does she even do appointments on Saturdays? Overworking is my thing."

Joe can't take his eyes away from Stefan's face. His eyes are closed and his face glows in the orange of the street lights.

"She's a lesbian?" He may be curious but whatever Stefan goes to therapy for is none of his business. He wants to know, though, one day.

"I'm not sure, I didn't ask, but you know when you can kinda just tell?"

Joe gulps. "I didn't meet a lesbian until my 20th birthday."

Stefan laughs, eyes opening and staring at Joe incredulously. "Wow, you were incredible sheltered. Can't you just tell? Like Colin's girlfriend, I don't think she's a lesbian because she's dating him but something about her isn't.... Normal."

It's past midnight. June 30th. It's officially his birthday and Joe can't catch a break. "I'm Bromley, remember?"

Stefan's laugh is glorious to hear. It's aided by a few cans of beer but welcome nonetheless. "Well happy gay birthday Bromley." he laughs, gesturing to the pin on Joe’s jacket that he’d forgotten about. of course he blushes, that’s all he’s capable of doing.

Stefan’s bus comes too soon after that. Joe says that if ever he wants to meet up again he should just go to Gay's the Word and ask for him. Then he's gone. Joe's heart flutters.

The next time they get the opportunity to hang out Joe ends up going to Stefan's workplace. He brings pastries and coffee which Stefan's boss eyes and makes a point of mentioning how disrespectful Joe is to come to the offices without offerings. Like the weakling he is, he gives Thakur the pain au chocolat that was meant for himself. Stefan laughs to himself, even if he keeps his eyes trained on his monitor. He and Stefan spend the day there, Joe dicks around on the computer next to him and they talk easily about the game, the book and work. Stefan reveals he wasn't really planning on releasing any games after Bandersnatch but he just kept on living after its release and with nothing better to do he started coding again. Joe hates being presumptive but he sees why Stefan's seeing a therapist.

On the way out, they swing round the record shop.

"I told my dad about you. I told him I have three friends now..." But he quickly looks up looking for reassurance from Joe, "if that's alright with you. If we aren't friends he won't be surprised if the number goes down I'm not the easiest person to get along with so-"

"Of course we're friends. You compliment my baking and photography I'm an easy man."

"Really? How easy?"

Joe flushes.

"Bad joke, sorry I didn't take my medication."

"Your medication makes you less inquisitive to your friend’s private lives?"

"Well yeah. I found out most of what I know about Colin when I was flushing them."

"Funny how that works...."

Stefan rolls his eyes while he picks out a record. Pearl jam. Steph loves them.

Stefan's a welcome addition to his life. He's easy to get along with, not as loud as Joe's other friends and he makes time for Joe.

He's helping at the book shop (filling shelves, taking some books upstairs for storage) with Mark.

"Y'know Bromley, I'm surprised you have time to be here between work and that boyfriend of yours." He says offhand.

That strikes Joe because boyfriend? He's been single forever having never dated seriously. He tries to never think about that because he's only getting older. He pauses from flipping through the book that he's holding.

"Boyfriend?"

"The one from pride. How'd you not know your own partner, the one with the dark hair and leather jacket?"

"Stefan?" Joe can feel himself flushing. "We're friends, what?" He laughs nervously.

"Oh, poor naive Bromley. You sheltered folk sure do congregate." Mark laughs. It's a joke that Joe doesn't really get it. It's not funny because they're not into each other that way. Joe rationalises it to himself, how Stefan and him just wouldn't work out because Stefan seems preoccupied and Joe doesn't fight for attention. He won't.

#bandersnatch #stefan butler #joe cooper #pride 2014 #yeah still dont know why i wrote this im fgbcdnxm #when i just get an ao3 account like a normal person wayment #cgi writes

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theoriginalladya · 5 years ago

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Quaranmeme

I was tagged by @swaps55. Tagging anyone interested in participating!

Are you staying home from work or school?

I am currently working from home which, all things considered, is rather fortunate for me. My boss is elderly and is finally taking the threat of this thing seriously, so I’ve been working from home ... 2 weeks now? (It’s really difficult to keep track of time doing this!) My boss has very, very limited tech experience/knowledge (best example I can give: he texted me two days ago, admitted he’d somehow deleted all the contacts on his cell phone and needed me to call to give him my phone number again), which is why I’m there. He writes stuff up by hand and I convert them to MSWord, MSExcel and/or PDF for him. (also, occasionally, for boss jr.) So, when we started getting wind of the lockdown coming, we made sure I had the appropriate programs on my computer so I could do it from home. Boss Sr. is capable enough (thanks to his grandkids) to take photos of what he writes up and send them to me so I can type them.

If you’re staying home, who’s with you?

I am at home with my son and two kitties. It’s been ... an adventure, we’ll say that! lol Kiddo’s college classes are now all online (half of them were from the beginning of the semester, so they only had to convert a couple of others) and he’s slowly adjusting. The cat’s aren’t sure what to make of having us around.

(Kaidan kitty at the moment, asleep on the top of the dining room curtain rod that holds my yarn organizers. Not sure where Cullen kitty is at the moment)

Are you a homebody?

Mostly? I mean, I had a moment after being home a few days where I just HAD to get out of the house (thankfully I needed to run up to the office to get my paycheck) and I do get out to go get groceries about once per week, maybe a run through McDonalds to get a diet coke, but otherwise I don’t mind staying home. I know I need to move around more, but between the lockdown and my bad hip, that’s difficult to achieve. I’ve been tempted to try a walk around the block in the late afternoons, but we’ve had storms the past few days. Maybe today.

An event that you were looking forward to that got canceled.

EVERY SPORTING EVENT ON TV! No, seriously, I watch sports from home (a) it’s cheaper, b) I can see it better than in person) and knit while I watch. that’s know my knitting mostly gets done. I understand the need to postpone and such, and I’m 100% behind that, but it leaves such a huge void in my life, and the Cubs were about to start up ...

What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?

Nothing, really. I don’t have cable TV, nor do I watch Netflix. I do have Hulu thanks to my mobile phone service, but I often forget that. Before I forgot the last time, I was trying to watch all of Blindspot. I’m mostly through season 1, I think? If I’m not doing work on my computer (interspersed with a few other things because my job is not one that keeps me busy all day long), I’m taking advantage of being home and playing Dragon Age or Mass Effect. (Also possibly Horizon Zero Dawn again). I don’t have to have the tv on all the time, but when I do that’s usually what I’m up to.

EDIT: I AM rewatching Critical Role Campaign 1 again (for the third time). Does that count?

What music are you listening to?

Mostly, of late, my playlists on my ipod and phone to try to stimulate the muses into cooperating again. *sigh* Just like them to take off when I have an opportunity to write more!

What are you reading?

Book One of The Witcher series, The Last Wish. Also, Storm Warning by Jack Higgins. That one literally just fell into my lap (off the book case that’s right behind my desk chair)!

What are you doing for self-care?

Staying connected with a number of friends online and trying to avoid my youngest brother as much as possible. I’ve talked to Dad a few times over FaceTime and he’s doing okay. Middle brother and family are fine so far as I know (he’s a technophobe and avoids calling or texting or even emailing for the most part. thankfully his wife stays in touch with us), but I’m avoiding the youngest like he IS the plague (not much different than normal, I guess).

I really, really, REALLY wanted to get writing, especially since Camp Nano just started, but alas, my muses have decided they’re taking a break. Ideas are kind of there, but getting them down onto the page is the challenge, and I’m still trying to find a way around that. The best I’ve been able to manage so far are some hand written notes for ideas so that I don’t completely forget them.

Other than that I’m just trying to pay attention to the times when I hit my ‘limit’ and need to get ‘out’ for a bit. That’s usually enough. (and occasionally that means I can justify a run to the one Starbucks open near-ish to me. It’s actually closer than the only other one I knew (closed), so win/win, I guess?)

#quaranmeme #memes #CORVID-19 edition #swaps55 #ladya replies

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rachelroams · 5 years ago

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I HAD COVID-19. THIS WAS MY EXPERIENCE.

Important note: my story is just one story. There are many people experiencing coronavirus, and each one of those narratives is valuable.

And, while each of our stories may provide a window into an individual experience, together—as compiled by experts—those stories allow for vetted, reliable data.

Please look to the tried-and-tested knowledge from medical professionals as you navigate this health crisis.

And remember: I’m just a regular person who had an experience and wanted to invite you into the fold.

***

THE BEGINNING

That photo was shot four days before my symptoms began. It was March 10th, and I was on assignment in South Carolina. I had just wrapped a public speaking engagement in NYC. The U.S. was still figuring out how seriously to take the Covid-19 threat, so storefronts, mass transit, and most of the world as we knew it was still open for business.

By March 12th, as I traveled home to the West Coast, Trump had announced a travel ban on flights from Europe, and things were starting to get serious in the States. I made a plan to self-quarantine for 14 days so that any potential germs I might have brought back from NYC didn’t get passed on to others.

THE ONSET

On March 14th, I noticed I had a light headache and muscle aches. I attributed them to post-travel fatigue and went on with my day. Within a few days, however, my body aches grew notably worse, I was constantly exhausted, and I was starting to have trouble sleeping.

By the 18th, my body was in full decline, and the pile-on of symptoms got scary fast. I had the symptoms that most of the news stories list—fever, aches, cough—plus a whole bunch more. (A full list of symptoms is in the next section.)

Between March 18-25, I fell into the void that is Covid-19. I ran a 102-degree fever for seven days. I had chills. Shivering. Fever dreams that looped, and looped, and looped again. Body aches severe enough that extra-strength acetaminophen did nothing lessen them.

One day somewhere in the middle of that time frame, a cough came on so strong and fast that I had to avoid talking, sitting up, or even moving. Those actions agitated the coughing to an extreme. My body became fatigued enough that I eventually couldn’t stand, walk, or even sit up for longer than a minute or two at a time. I wanted to sleep constantly, but never got past 4-5 hours without waking up in need of more pain or cough medication.

THE SYMPTOMS

Here’s the full list of symptoms I experienced. They’re not all pretty, but they were all present.

Fever Cough Body aches Headaches Exhaustion Chills Night sweats Fever dreams Diarrhea Loss of appetite Clammy skin Red ring around eyes Loss of sense of smell Inability to sit up, stand, or walk Sensation that joints weren’t connected Sensation that knee caps were going to slide off my legs

(Yes, those last two are strange. Yes, they were part of my experience.)

THE TEST

My symptoms were notable enough that on March 19th, my husband called Urgent Care and asked what they would advise we do. After an interview about my condition and travel history, nursing staff said we should come in that afternoon.

At the staff’s instruction, my husband Todd put on a mask and gloves, and entered the hospital to register me as a patient. I was asked to stay in the car so that I didn’t come into contact with more people than necessary. After Todd returned to the car, a nurse called my cell phone and interviewed me about my symptoms and recent travel history. Based on my answers, we were waved through to the drive-through testing tent.

Nurses in gowns, face shields, masks and gloves approached the car and asked me to remove my mask. They took my temperature, listened to my lungs, confirmed my symptoms, and called a doctor to the tent. While the doctor ran through my list of my symptoms, triple-checking what we had described to the nursing staff, he inquired about my travel history. When I listed New York, he paused, turned away from us, and yelled, “We’re gonna need a Covid test here! This one’s been to New York.”

First, I was given a conventional flu test, and informed that it would be processed within the next few hours. If it came back positive, the hospital would assume I had the flu. If it came back negative, they would assume it was coronavirus and ship my Covid test out for processing.

The Covid-19 test was… uncomfortable. To test a person, medical staff inserts a 6-inch swab deep into the nasal cavity until it reaches the nasopharynx/upper throat, rotating it several times over the course of 10-15 seconds to gather a sufficient sample, and sometimes repeating the procedure with a new swab in the second nasal cavity. Normally fairly stoic, I had to be reminded to breathe during this process, wiping tears away as the doctor dipped my swab into a sealed pouch and passed it to the nurse.

The image below shows the handout I received following my test.

THE RESULTS

Within a few hours of our drive-through experience, we received a call from Urgent Care informing us that my flu test had come back negative. Next, they would be sending out my Covid-19 for processing. We were told that we would have to wait 5-10 days for results. The national average for results turnaround was five days at the time of testing (March 19).

In the meantime, we were instructed to stay home and treat the symptoms ourselves. The only exception would be if I started experiencing extreme shortness of breath (as per the nurses: “[feeling like I had run a marathon while sitting still, or feeling like I was suffocating]”), at which point we were to return to the hospital seeking intensive care. Barring that, we were to continue self-quarantine until both my husband and I were symptom-free for at least 72 hours. (Thankfully, Todd never developed symptoms.)

Over the next two weeks, we had a series of follow-up calls with nursing staff. On March 25th, I was told my test had been sent from Oregon to a North Carolina LabCorp facility, where it was “in process.” At that point, I was informed it would be closer to 12 days before I would receive results due to an inundation of tests needing processing at East Coast facilities.

Over the next couple calls, however, it became clear something strange was happening. On call two, my test was no longer showing “in process” in the lab records, but it was also not marked “complete,” which is the next stage. On call three, the nurse said my test notes now read “future,” indicating the swab had not begun processing, even though we were nearly two weeks past my test date.

THE MISSING TEST

On April 1st, 13 days after testing, the test was suddenly, inexplicably, not in the system. It was not listed in North Carolina. It was not listed in Oregon. It was not listed anywhere.

That day, I received a call from the Head of Nursing at Urgent Care. He informed me that I would not be receiving my Covid-19 test results… ever. He conferred, “[The staff here feels confident you had Covid-19, based your on symptoms and recent travel history. That’s why we gave you a Covid test. Unfortunately, there’s no way for us to confirm your positive results, because we don’t know where your swab went. We can no longer located it in any lab’s computer system.]” He continued, “[Unfortunately, this has happened a number of times now, with a number of different patients. Swabs have gone missing, and we don’t know why. At this point, I can say with confidence that we will never find those tests.]”

Somehow, between my Covid-19 test on March 19 and the swab’s transit to a LabCorp facility, my test disappeared, along with a number of others. In a nation with an already-limited number of tests, an unknown number of them are now afloat, unprocessed, and uncalculated in the national totals.

THE HEREAFTER

Regardless of official results, I believe I can safely say I’m on the mend from coronavirus. It has been exactly four weeks since the onset of symptoms, and I’m feeling mostly human again. While I still need to sleep 10-12 hours a day as my body repairs (my husband says I’m “sleeping like a college student”), I’m finally able to walk farther than the distance between the living room and bathroom. In fact, I made it beyond the mailbox this week. All things considered, that’s a victory.

As I take each day as it comes, I’m thankful to the body I normally take for granted. The partner who supplied me with Gatorade, prepared me miso, and noted my temperature three times a day for two weeks. The community of friends and family who sent love notes, funny gifs, and encouragement as I faced the fire.

As I place my trust in the healing process, I’m grateful for the opportunity to reflect on life’s small pleasures. Who knew it could be so exciting to watch a daffodil bloom? To note a Cooper’s Hawk outside the window? To get a good night’s rest, play a board game, or walk the whole length of the driveway? Who even remembered, in this wildly busy world, what a gift it is to simply listen to the breeze?

As I look forward, I send gratitude to the people deemed essential workers, whose employment at hospitals, grocery stores, restaurants, and more, requires them to show up at the front lines daily to keep our society fed and functioning.

As I acknowledge the vast unknowing that all that of us face, I encourage everyone (yes—even YOU!) to stay home if you’re not an essential worker. To get to know not only the inside of whatever building you’re calling home, but also the inside of your mind, your heart, and the wide expanse of space that is Not Knowing. To ask yourself what you feel today—every day a new day for asking—and grant permission to yourself to experience whatever natural, beautiful, and challenging feelings this whirlwind may ask of you.

THE AMA (“ASK ME ANYTHING”)

Do you have questions about my experience? Please let me know in the comments below. I’ll do my best to provide an answer.

I’ve had friends ask what supplies to keep on hand in case they get sick, what mindset I adopted during the healing process, what shows I was watching on Netflix when I was down for the count… whatever you’re wondering, let me know.

Thank you, as always, for sharing this journey with me.

You are appreciated,

Rachel

#covid19 #covid-19 #coronavirus #health #medicine #wellness #virus #pandemic #corona outbreak #outbreak #travel #newyork #nyc #new york

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killjoy-loveit · 5 years ago

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Breaking the Pattern

A/N: I would like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction and isn’t to be taken as a true portrayal of reality. Tbh I personally think this piece is soft af, but that’s just me *shrugs*

Excerpt: Pursing your lips and flicking your eyes up, you’re ready to explain when the words catch in your throat. The guy standing in front of you is probably the most attractive person you’d ever laid eyes on.

Word Count: 1,608

Genre: Fluff (?)

Life had always seemed rather trivial to Joshua. Personality wasn’t as valued as productiveness, so he learned how to box his playful/bubbly nature up and set it to the side. In doing so, he felt stifled, as anyone would. Boredom came the easiest when at work, sitting behind a computer all day- fixing problem after problem as they popped up. There were times he lost himself in daydreams filled with excitement and freedom, but each time it would end and his bubble of happiness was lost.

It’s on a day like any other, solving problems behind the scenes for the company, when he decides he’s had enough. How long is he supposed to constrain himself to fit in? To become the perfect worker? Fingers flying over the keyboard, a resignation is quickly typed without an ounce of hesitation. Jumping up he rushes to the printer, snatching the paper the second it pops out and quickly jotting down his signature.

Once he’s out of his office he makes his way to the elevator, pressing the button to go up. Joshua’s foot taps restlessly, the elevator feels like it’s going slower than usual. Finally it arrives and he squeezes in, punching the number of the floor his boss is on. Around him people chatter about meetings needing to be set, mergers that are happening soon, and the accounting period that’s about to end. Thankfully the elevator appears to be moving faster and it isn’t long before he exits, leaving the corporate chatter behind.

A quick knock on the door grants him a barked, “Come in.”

Entering the office Joshua comes to stand in front of his boss’ desk. She looks up at him, a small smile appearing briefly before speaking. “Joshua, one of my star employees. How can I help you?”

“I’m putting in my two weeks notice. Here’s my resignation letter.” He replies, handing the paper over to her.

Her mouth drops open, confusion apparent on her face as she takes his resignation letter. “Why are you resigning? Do we not pay you enough? Did another company poach you?”

Joshua shakes his head, “No, that’s not it. It has nothing to do with another company nor my pay here.”

“Is there any way we can make you stay? You’re such a valued employee, it would be a shame to lose you.”

“Sorry, this is just something I have to do for myself.” He says affirmatively, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Well… Alright. There are some papers I need you to fill out then, just let me find them.”

And just like that, an end was put to his corporate career. That is, after his final two weeks pass, and then he’s free. Those two weeks seem to dredge on, time moving at the speed of molasses. Then finally his last day comes and as he leaves at the end of the day, there’s a smile present that is a prime example of pure elation.

In the past two weeks Joshua had been planning on what to do once he left his corporate job. A few ideas were scratched out almost immediately after writing them down, as the logistics just didn’t seem to work out quite right. It was the thirteenth item on the list that struck gold: moving to the small coastal town a few hours away and either find work or open his own business. What the business would be he’d yet to figure out- but he was certain something would come to him. Thus the next day, after his last of corporate work, all of his stuff was quickly packed away into a moving truck and he was off.

***Time Jump & POV Switch***

Distraught as you were with the cash register deciding now was a good time to stop functioning, the tinkling sound meant to alert you of an incoming customer completely missed you. A groan of frustration slipped past your lips as you, unsuccessfully, tried to get the cash drawer to pop open. Come on, come on, come on! Even with these desperate words on replay in your mind, the drawer refused to cooperate. At this point you were about to give up and call the guy who owned the repair shop down the street. Admitting defeat and getting help would definitely make more sense than increasing your anger at the register.

“Stupid. Freaking. Junk!” Each word came out harsh and was accentuated by a small wack to the offending object.

“I don’t think hitting it is going to help anything.” Someone chuckles across from you.

Pursing your lips and flicking your eyes up, you’re ready to explain when the words catch in your throat. The guy standing in front of you is probably the most attractive person you’d ever laid eyes on. Well, not probably, he most definitely is. His dark chocolate colored hair falls gently over his forehead, only a few wisps stray in an attempt to cover his eyes. Eyes that are looking at you in amusement, joined by a teasing grin.

“Um… It won’t open, it’s been finicky since yesterday and nothing I do seems to make it open right now. I guess I’m getting a bit too frustrated.” You comment shyly, hand rubbing at the back of your neck.

His head tilts slightly. “Would you mind if I took a look at it? I promise I’m not trying to rob you or anything- I worked at a store during college that used this kind of register. It always liked to act up too.”

Brows furrowing and eyes narrowing, you gave him a cursory glance. In a soft gray sweater and dark jeans, he didn’t exactly look like a robber. Then again, was a robber just going to come in wearing the cartoon stereotype of a black and white striped shirt with a black bandana and matching hat?

At your lack of response plus your scrutinizing gaze, the guy put his hands in front of him. “I swear! I just moved here, in that little blue house two streets over by the bakery.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your mouth dropped open. “You’re the guy who moved into the old Rowe house yesterday? I live right across from you, the house with gray siding and a bunny statue by the driveway.”

“It’s nice to meet a neighbor already, what a small world.”

“Well, I mean, it is a pretty small town. You kinda know everyone that lives here, even if you don’t know them personally. I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” You pause, a thought popping up. “I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself!”

He laughs lightly at your sudden outburst. “It’s fine, I take it the name on the tag is yours?” You nod in affirmation. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joshua.”

“Nice to meet you Joshua!” You take a step back, waving your hand at the register welcomingly. “If you really want to try your hand at fixing this, then go right ahead. Either way you can’t mess it up anymore.”

Joshua strode around the counter before coming to stand beside you in front of the register. His mouth twisted a bit in concentration as his hands swept over the worn metal of it. Quickly he tapped the side of it three times while holding down two buttons. Surprisingly the cash drawer popped open, and he turned around to face you with a triumphant grin.

“How did you do that?” You asked excitedly, rushing forward to double check that it was truly open.

“It’s what always worked to get the one open when it was being finicky where I used to work.”

“Oh my gods, please teach me that trick!” You turn, clutching his arm and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Sure.”

After this encounter, the two of you began the process of forming a quick friendship. It was common for the two of you to meet up for lunch on your breaks, filling the time by sharing stories from your past. Never a dull moment existed when the two of you got together. Every interaction was filled with jokes, teasing, and playful banter. This isn’t to say that neither of you broached serious topics, just that the serious conversations tended to occur when one of you had a few too many glasses of wine.

It was over these glasses of wine shared in the evenings at one of your respective homes, that you learned of the deeper parts of each other. You confided in him, telling him of your fears of turning into your parents and never exploring anywhere outside the small beach town. He told you why he moved in the first place, how he was afraid of losing himself in the triviality of his corporate job. Though you had a hard time believing that anything could change his vibrant personality, it was obvious to see that was something he was truly afraid of. It shone in his eyes when he spoke of it, the air filled with unspoken emotions.

This break in the pattern, this drastic change is exactly what was needed. Not only was Joshua able to freely be himself, without having to tame his personality, he’d also made great friends in the process. He could imagine a life in that small beach town, where everyone knew each other with not an unkind soul in sight. Everyday was different, filled with new obstacles and hurdles to find a solution to, but each night ended the same. Each night ended with the two of you sitting on your porch, facing the ocean, gazing up at the stars.

#svt #seventeen #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt joshua scenarios #seventeen joshua scenarios #svt joshua #seventeen joshua

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dysphoric-affect · 5 years ago

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The End Of The Console Wars And The Dawn Of Unity

Earlier this year, I watched in awe during the Video Game Awards as leaders from Microsoft, Sony and Nintendo took the stage at the same time and delivered a joint address to those attending and watching at home. The platitudes were what you would expect and not in themselves groundbreaking - about what a great time it is to be a gamer and how exciting the future is right now - though not unwelcome and undoubtedly true. What was more meaningful in my mind is who the presenters were, what they represented individually and what their cooperating together - considering their background - to make that address symbolically represented: that the age of console wars is coming to an end and something else, something better for gamers and for the industry, is taking its place.

The awe I felt stems from the fact that this is a far cry from the state of the industry not so long ago, when E3 press conferences, especially those of Microsoft and Sony, were not entirely dissimilar to war rooms. References to each other at that time were avoided at all cost, as if avoiding saying a vulgar word, with the competition only being invoked to point out how inferior what they offered was to the vastly superior console they had to offer. Hostility toward the competition was not only rife on their part, but felt encouraged to be had on the part of consumers loyal to their brand. And we took the bait.

I’m embarrassed now to admit that I fell for this trap myself. I was an Xbox loyalist primarily, though because I grew up with Nintendo originally I had a soft spot for them as well. This made Sony the source of my own derision. With the original price tag on the PS3 and the eventually redacted “boomerang” controller design that console was initially slated to have, there was no shortage of fodder I felt given by Sony at the time to condemn their console. The trick is, criticism of those aspects of the console did have some objective validity, but there’s a fine line between making well-founded criticism based on rational thinking and deliberation from essentially accidentally supporting a valid negative position, but based purely from irrational, emotion-based brand loyalty which would have demanded I see what Sony offered as inferior regardless of the specific facts surrounding it.

I feel especially embarrassed to have felt that way, because in life I have traditionally prided myself on being a rational thinker, but in that case, given my passion for the games industry I was easily led away from it. Thankfully that was as far as such sentiment ever got with me, but the capability was always there for that to spill over into applying such irrationality and emotion-based decision making in other areas of consideration about institutions in society. This was the great unspoken, and perhaps unidentified, insidious nature of what was going on at that time in the games industry: irrational hostility was being fostered, and once that’s been justified in one area of our life, it’s not difficult for such thinking to be applied and justified in other areas of our life, which in the longer term stands to have damaging repercussions for the society we impact. It wasn’t until I matured into an adult as well as gained a personal interest in philosophy that I became able to look back and realize the significance of the implications this toxic atmosphere stood to have.

Real change in the industry in relation to these attitudes only truly started to occur however once those in the industry matured and changed their approach, as was probably always destined to be the case. As the negative culture in the past was brought out by those within the game industry in the first place, for better or worse it means the responsibility in turn had to fall on them to undue that kind of thinking and replace it with new, more positive vision. Thankfully, the effort to do so now seems to be in full motion.

The advent of this finally began to occur with the advent of the concept of cross-play. We have taken if for granted for a long time that while we may be part of a fan base for game or series much larger than the player count of just those experiencing it on the same console we own, we can’t share in enjoyment of it with that larger community. Imagine, it was presented to us, those arbitrary barriers were now gone. Each fan could play with every single other fan of something they love, with community surrounding a game or series being built more within the actual games rather than without. It’s an extremely seductive concept, the seduction not due to any particular way the idea is presented, but simply intrinsic to the nature of the idea itself.

Making the prospect all the more tantalizing was it being pointed out that it wasn’t a goal that needed to be worked for...the opportunity is already here. The backend networking for multiplayer or co-op between different hardware presents its challenges and necessary effort, but is entirely doable. Developers can make it happen and want to. Gamers, in one of the few cases of near universal agreement they’ve had, want it to happen, too. It remains only for those behind the different console brands to want to. The deciding factor preventing us from having a more connected and happier gaming community is no technical challenge: it is a simple act of will.

Unfortunately, immediate consensus wasn’t to be, as Sony showed initial reluctance to the idea. The reasoning presented only served to exacerbate the general frustration at not making universal cross-play a reality: Sony was concerned about maintaining the integrity of the online experience of their brand. This explanation rang hollow to most, however. Microsoft has long been lauded for having the most solid and consistent online experience, though Sony has certainly improved dramatically in relation to their own, so the idea that connection to their service would be a liability rather than at least a non-concern and at most an asset even came across as fundamentally nonsensical.

This being an issue was also compounded by a series of well-publicized hacks of the PlayStation Network that have occurred in the past; while Xbox Live has seen its on issues, the number and severity of the attacks in Playstation’s case create greater alarm. With this being the case, it would seem if anyone had cause to be concerned about connecting themselves to another, it would be on the part of Microsoft and Nintendo toward Sony, not the other way around. For it to be the other way around in spite of this felt like petty standoffishness stemming from the old days of the console wars rather than having any basis in reality or the interests of gamers...including PlayStation fans.

That is one final point that rested against Sony’s philosophy of resistance, perhaps the strongest and arguably the only point that mattered: Sony’s own fans supported the change. It stands to reason there’s an impetus to make fans of the brand satisfied, so when the majority themselves are calling for that change, is it not worth considering its merits seriously rather than dismissing it out of hand? Add in the incident of the temporary cross-play enabling for Destiny, and the intensity of seeing that feature become a new norm in the industry became all the stronger.

While Sony was making their decision, we saw the beginning of a broader change toward cross-play support anyway. Fortnite, Minecraft and Rocket League presented three of the more noteworthy examples of the cross-play concept manifesting as a reality, given the runaway popularity of those titles, but numerous other examples sprang up as well. Minecraft’s case was a particularly interesting one in that it saw the achievement of a different milestone, with Nintendo and Microsoft co-backing the production of an ad about their two consoles being able to work together. I’m not ashamed to admit watching that ad made me a bit emotional. I don’t even play Minecraft myself, but what it represented - about the gaming community coming together more - is really powerful to my mind and extremely encouraging as a gamer who always wants to see the industry get better not just in what it makes for us to play, but in the ideals it represents and promotes.

Flash forward a bit, and we have the VGA’s mentioned at the start and a welcome change of tune from Sony, symbolically represented in the VGA presentation but more literally represented in a number of stories about them getting on board with the idea and even being in direct talks with Microsoft in relation to future ventures. Meanwhile, Microsoft has expressed an interest in expanding access to games that have traditionally been an Xbox experience beyond that console itself. They have candidly expressed their interest in making all future games of theirs available for PC simultaneously, which is certainly well within the realm of theoretical possibility given Microsoft’s ownership of the Windows OS most computers run on. And yet...even this isn’t the limit of where they’ve expressed interest in having their titles reach. Just recently, they’ve elaborated on this philosophy of expansion by emphasizing there is a more vested interest in people playing their games than in playing on the Xbox console specifically. For example, that interest goes so far as that they’ve expressed interest in bringing Halo: The Master Chief Collection to PlayStation.

This is, in many ways, the best example of this industry-wide change in philosophy I’ve been discussing. I’ll admit, in the spirit of full disclosure, to being a long-time and avid Halo fan, but when I make that statement it isn’t about complimenting that franchise or Microsoft. What I am directing attention to is the fact that Halo, which has always been Microsoft’s flagship franchise for Xbox and closely associated with its success, is something they are willing to pass access to to players on their competitors’ console. This idea was so beyond inconceivable during that period not long ago I alluded to, that if you had presented the idea as a serious possibility, you’d have been considered an idiot, or insane. But now, it’s an idea that’s had interest expressed by Microsoft at the executive level.

Those players on PlayStation are the key factor of note here, though. It isn’t about Microsoft and Sony becoming best friends, though they seem to be getting along better all the time, which is sure to be a boon for gamers in the future in as yet unknown ways. It is about simply letting players play the games they want. Gaming, like so many pastimes, can be an expensive one, and locking gamers out of access to numerous quality experiences deserving of being explored by all because they can’t reasonably justify - or literally can’t afford - the price tag of another console needed to access those experiences is a shame, and antithetical to the spirit of connectedness and community the gaming culture, at its best, strives to be about.

Destroying these arbitrary and artificial barriers and instead working collaboratively on ways to bring the global gaming community ever closer together, as a family, is the rightful course toward which the industry should be directing itself. And, who knows...maybe in the process of fostering this spirit of inclusion, the game industry can get some of that positive spirit to rub off on those who play games and get them in turn to be more inclusive of others in the world outside of the games. And the world beyond gaming isn’t so different from the world of gaming in that one respect: both are much richer for getting others in on our fun.

So keep it up, video game industry. We all came to play after all, so let’s ALL play. Cheers.

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xannified · 5 years ago

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𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✧ k.yg | 三

The smell of brewed coffee and beans was consumed by most of the air she breathed in, making her feel dizzy on the inside. She was feeling dizzy in a good way. Especially to have alone time for herself.

Jiwon would expect her favorite cafe to be packed on a Friday night, however, there were less people than the usual. There were only some either on their phones or typing away on their computers with whispers to be heard in the background. They were focused on their work while she, on the other hand, couldn't seem to relax when she was supposed to.

Although she loved what she was doing, Jiwon wanted to get ahead of her work to take the load off her shoulders. In a fast-paced industry where everything have to be perfect and amazing, some time alone was the only way to relieve the stress.

Despite her attempts to focus on not thinking about anything at the moment, her mind didn't seem cooperate with. There was another vibration on her lap as her phone lit up.

Packing up her stuff, she walked down the way and out of the cafe. She walked her way to the familiar car and waited. With the plastic cup in hand, the smell of coffee lingering in her nose was replaced by the smell of manly aftershave. Jiwon felt a familiar presence behind her as someone murmured, "I thought you're busy tonight?"

Turning around, she was faced to see the man with a cap on. His mask was pulled down, and he had no makeup on. She simply told him, "Yeah, but I wondered about getting coffee for a bit. And you, I thought you have a practice?"

As Yugyeom unlocked his car, she got in the passenger's seat. He got in his car as well and quickly drove away before people could start recognizing him. He drove away, "Not until JB hyung calls it off the last minute. Plus, I was thinking about you."

He flashed her a devilishly handsome smirk. She just shook her head thrice, "What a lie. You never think about me, Yugyeom-ah."

A quick moment of silence passed by as they got in his place. When they got in, Yugyeom quickly made his move, pressing her against the couch with both arms trapping her in his embrace.

But Jiwon pulled away, looking up at him and observed his dark, lustful eyes. There was something about her actions that seemed a bit unusual these days. Yugyeom noticed the gradual build up of her actions. She was always okay with their thing, but she was hinting that she does not want it. He asked, "Is something wrong?"

Yugyeom moved away from on top of her. She sat on the couch and licked her lips. Jiwon gulped. She let out a heavy sigh, "Just stress, that's all."

He then smirked as he grabbed her face and kissed her. Although she was fighting, Yugyeom kept kissing her. The silent moans coming out of her mouth as they can't be contained. He said, "Then let me make you feel good."

Jiwon had her system betrayed her. She trailed her hands up into his hair, tugging on it slightly. She gasped, lips parting just enough for Yugyeom to slip his tongue into her mouth. The past few days, they have not been seeing each other as of work. And t seemed like it has been ages for him.

She was no poet, really, and the experience of the kiss itself is unremarkable. It's just two pairs of lips pressing together, after all but it was him. As it happens is so unbelievably wonderful, with his hands clutching at Yugyeom's shirt and her body warm against him, his voice so sweet as he hums into the kiss—it's the best kiss she's ever had, hands down.

Jiwon watched through high school as Yugyeom grew from a cheeky, cocky kid, into an even cockier young man. He'd never care much for his grades. He would party with his friends, ditch class and take advantage of being an idol as an excuse, and rile up any girls he chose. And though there were rumors of him being a fuck boy, there were also tales that his best friend was his complete opposite.

Even if Jeon Jeongguk was a student of School of Performing Arts (SOPA), he was still popular in almost all high schools. Hanlim Multi Art School was no exception. He was always seen hanging out with Yugyeom.

They got along like they always had because they were same age friends. And despite their agency differences, they were similar enough where it counted: both of them were invested in all senses in their group. Both of them loved dancing and singing. At the same time, they were the maknaes of their respective groups. Jeongguk and Yugyeom were willing to put aside any differences and work hard for their dreams.

After their rocky start debuting as idol, they had come to understand one another and even become friends in the whirlwind that was living and working in competition under the industry. But before all of these was a total disaster, especially when they knew her.

Yugyeom started acting more like an asshole and a jerk. It was sort of normal, but totally giving Jeongguk the cold shoulder in situations where they were not required to interact was a different story. First Jeongguk had ignored it, thinking Yugyeom was just going through something. But when the other did not come to confront him about it as Jeongguk started to grow frustrated. Yugyeom knew how to hold a long feud over the stupidest of things, but he never did it silently, always being loud to complain and point out any wrongdoings or not-doings to the point it annoyed the hell out of the poor soul he had set his mind on torturing.

This is just one of the things why Jiwon admired Jeongguk. He was kind, gentleman, and is nothing like Yugyeom. She even wonders why they were best friends, but she would like to think that maybe opposites do attract. Yugyeom just gets on her nerves every damn time.

Also despite her best attempts to stay away from Yugyeom, he would approach Jiwon in the halls sometimes. He would use the same lines he did to every other girl he had spoke to. To which always reacted the same—with a bitter insult and a roll of eyes before walking away. And Jiwon would never respond, always leaving and ignoring him.

It was this one afternoon when her supposed to be guardian angels decided to leave for a while, her eyes shutting and her body ready for the impact because slipping on wet floor was the least she expected to happen to her. A pair of arms slip around her waist as she was soon being pulled against a strong, warm chest. Jiwon thinks that maybe the loyal guardian angel heard her internal cry for help, or maybe an angel-like face of a saviour. So she slowly opened her eyes to see, well, a devil.

She curses, immediately shoving him as hard as she can to force some distance as he was grinning. His stupid grin was getting wider as he approaches her again, but she keeps moving until he had her cornered. Her back was pressed against the cold lockers. Thankfully, he keeps a few inches between them. But he rests his forearm on the lockers by the side of her head. He says, "Hey, babygirl."

He has left enough room for her to leave and she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the shin. He was a jerk, breaking hearts, disrespecting, and boasting. She just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. She hissed, "Don't call me that."

"How can you say that to your knight in shining armour just a minute ago?" Yugyeom mocks. He then asks her, "Then what would you prefer? Love? Sweetheart? Or daddy's princess?"

"None," she managed to say. Jiwon was glad that her voice was shaking. She did not need to fuel his ego. She took a deep breath and muttered, "Can you get out of my way? You disgust me."

Yugyeom then just chuckled as he cocks his head, his eyes never wavering from hers. He eyes were flicking down to her front before looking at her straight again. He asks, "I've heard you like Jeongguk. Do you really think that my best friend would have any interest on you?"

She tapped her foot anxiously against the floor, as if it would stop the weakness swimming through her limbs. Jiwon waited until she was sure her voice would not break before she speaks, "That is none of your business. Go away, fuck boy."

He chuckles as Jiwon tried to speak again. He cuts her off by saying, "Newsflash, baby, he doesn't have a type. You'll just get your hopes up on him. And you can have me instead, if you ever change your mind."

Without another word, Yugyeom winks as he leaves. He weaves his way through the corridor without glancing back at her once.

Now he only angered her more. Yugyeom angered her for the way he was a better dancer than her sometimes. Yugyeom angered her for his gut. Yugyeom angered her for making her feel anxious. Yugyeom angered her for getting in her nerves. And Jiwon hated Yugyeom more than she'd hated anyone else.

After that encounter, things even got more tension. From his pet names, his cocky attitude, his smug smile, to the way she found out that he was not as easier to tolerate. He just really gets in her way every single time.

The history Jiwon shares with Yugyeom and the friendship she started to build with Jeongguk leads to her spending a lot more time than she anticipated. She does not mind that much, since it was always the three of them, and it was always a movie marathon in Jeongguk's house.

To say that Yugyeom and Jiwon got along after a few weeks would be a lie. In fact, Jiwon couldn't stand the sight of him. But there was no choice because if Jeongguk would like to hang out, then the other would always be there. They were just so freaking close.

Yugyeom was always around her. He was there at her locker, at her desk, walking closely by her inside or outside the school. He would sometimes even cover her eyes and teasingly whisper on her ear to guess who it is. He would ruffle her hair. It all made Jiwon want to throw the guy off the rooftop of the school building.

"Just date him already," Jimin said one day as they sat on their usual table. The other just snorted which earned him a nudge.

Jiwon looked at the boy again to see him seated on the cafeteria table. He was laughing loudly with some of his friends, probably about a girl's boobs or something. She scoffed, "Fuck to the no. I'd rather lock up myself in a dungeon and die."

The other girl chuckled. Jimin spoke again, "You know, Yugyeom is an actual nice guy. He just really needs to get a taste of his own medicine to anesthetize his cockiness."

There was rice, seaweed soup, fish, zucchinis, and kiwi for lunch. Jiwon twisted the cap of her water bottle as she says, "Nice? Have you seen Jeongguk? He, Park Jimin, is the definition of a nice guy you're telling me. And Yugyeom is far from that."

Jimin then glanced at her friend as she took her chopsticks. She asked her, "Speaking of Jeongguk, you've been hanging out with him, right? How is it? I mean, Yugyeom is his best friend. I heard that you three were always in his house."

"Oh yeah, watching movies and all. Yugyeom is still Yugyeom, damn annoying. But I try my best to be normal because it's the only moment I get to hang out with Jeongguk," Jiwon pauses. She gulped down a chug of water and said, "Because the asshole is his best friend. I just wish that he could have an idea and ask me to hang out alone. Like the two of us, even if it's just a really friendly type."

"Yugyeom knows you like Jeongguk, right? Do you think Jeongguk knows you like him?" Jimin asks again.

"Probably, for sure. The fuck boy is a loud mouth. There is no chance that he did not tell him. He's his best friend, he would tell him anything," she huffed.

It was true. Yugyeom should have told Jeongguk about her admiration of him already. She was just thankful that nothing is awkward. Jiwon might like Jeongguk, but not to the extent of forcing herself to her. She was not like that. She was not like that of a desperate girls in their school.

One thing about Jeongguk is that he does not have a type. At least, that is what everyone knows.

When people ask him about his ideal type, he has no idea how to answer because by his very nature he is unable to look at a person and narrow them down to one or two or even three characteristics. For a guy who is more than just good looking, what made Jiwon admire Jeongguk is that he likes to think he's logical most of the time.

And it wasn't like he was going out of his way to sound like an asshole trying to get into the good graces of the masses, but he really did consider personality the most important. He even once opened up to her about how people labelled him fake. Because logically speaking, it just never made sense to ignore the whole of a person in favor of the smallest physical detail. Jiwon just cannot help but admire him more.

The singer chewed her food and looked at her friend. Something came up to her out of nowhere, "Ya, but really, Yugyeom is a nice guy. Whenever in the company, he's the complete opposite of how he is here in Hanlim. I thought about it before why. But when I saw the elder guys always scolding him, I thought maybe he wanted to feel superior unlike how he really goes through."

Jiwon then scanned the room, her eyes gazing on the certain figure. She definitely hated his cockiness, "Whatever, he just really irritates me."

Well, or so she thought.

Soon, during midterms week, she tried to ignore all of Jeongguk's invitation. Either to hang out, chill, or have a group study to focus on her exit tests alone. Jiwon cannot exactly afford to get distracted by anything. Because if she fails, she cannot go to the States according to her parents.

Even Jimin gives her space, though she has been teasing Jiwon ever since their talk in the cafeteria.

It was this one night, two days before their last test when Jeongguk invited her to sleep over. He promised that they will actually study. She hoped that his bugging would die down, only for the boy to be persistent. Jeongguk was actually pestering her to this stupid sleep over.

Jiwon knew very well that it was so wrong on agreeing to this. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon left for a business trip the day before. And if Jeongguk's parents were not here, then it automatically means that Yugyeom can cuss whenever he wants. And here he was, banging on the guest's bathroom door. It was midnight, and the three of them just finished half of the pointers. Yugyeom was shouting,"Ya, can't you bloody well hurry up? You've been in the shower for hours!"

She rolled her eyes, sticking her head out of the shower stall in order to shout back, "Can't you wait until I'm done?"

The girl could imagine him gritting is teeth with indignation. He grunted, "Just hurry the fuck up or I'm going to force my way in there!"

She nearly laughed and was about to challenge him to do so when she stopped. Her eyes darted to the door and realized how stupid of her to forget it unlocked. Jiwon had been wrapped in only a small towel putting some lotion on her legs, when he had come knocking and shouting, saying something about needing to take the much needed shower.

At that point in time, which had been early on in their cohabitation, she had figured that he had lied to her. He hadn't. Not only did he knew that it was unlocked but he efficiently turned the knob. Yugyeom had not even waited for her to leave before he took off his top.

Jiwon could see the outlines of his body, noting that he got some shape. He eyes, uncontrollably, followed the line of his spine until pausing on his butt.

He has a nice ass, she noted. His ass was tight. There actually had a bit of something to grab. Her eyes suddenly returned to reality and she found herself staring at his face, "Like what you see?"

She could swear damn at him. If he had not barged in the shower in the first place, then she would not be looking. Now, she could barely move. There were no words that came out of her mouth when she tried to speak. At the same time her system did not make her turn away and leave.

"Jiwon-ah," his voice pulled her out of panicked thoughts. As she remained still, she realized just how sexy his voice was. It was deep, but not too deep for a highschooler. He reiterated, "Do you want me to tell you instead that I like what I see?"

Yugyeom chuckles, the soft melody breaking whatever tense air had surrounded the two of them. And then he was kissing her, moving his lips against her with so much roughness.

The towel around her body was slowly slipping off her body. In seconds, he had her lifted up and pressed against the shower stall. Heat coursed through her at such a rapid pace that she felt lightheaded and incredibly aroused. He then moved to bite and lick at her throat, "You have no idea how many time you have turned me on."

A moan escaped her lips as his left hand made its way to her left boob, both of her breasts being kneaded in unison. Both of her nipples were being tortured and teased into even tighter, tauter peaks that made a pleasure rush through her body. Her arms made their way to wrap around the back of his head, then her nails dug into her shoulders. She moans, "Shit."

She tugs on his hair as he started kissing the inside of her thighs. Jiwon whines as he pulls away to yank down his pants and underwear. He puts on a condom from one of the pockets of his pants, quickly situating himself between her legs. Yugyeom gently pushes in her as he kisses her temple. He rested his forehead against hers, heavy breathing scattered like their thoughts. He still doesn't move yet though, "I'm going to fuck you out these frustrations I always had about you."

Yugyeom presses another kiss on her lips as he carefully, gently, rocks his hip in hers. For a moment, Jiwon can't breathe. She was too caught up in the foreign feeling of having him move inside of him.

Jiwon cries out, and suddenly Yugyeom was linking his hand with hers, holding them by the side of her head. They kept kissing roughly as his name kept staining the tip of her tongue.

Jiwon can't help but feel the slight tension—and the aching of Yugyeom's dick, which is quite needy for her—but he tries her best to ignore it. Things have escalated quickly because her system betrayed her. It almost feels like she does not want him to stop no matter the avoidance.

Yugyeom tilts his head to press kisses into her neck. A soft, long trail of open mouthed kisses leading from her chin to just below her ear. And though he knows she'd like to fight it, she can't. Sure enough, moments later she lets out a long sigh. "Yu-Yugyeom... fuck, stop."

He just hums into her skin. Yugyeom moved from his neck down further. He have pulled down her off-shoulder top to expose her shoulder blades more. He whispers, "I missed you so much."

That was when her hands went to the back of his neck. Her hands cupped his face and pulled it to face him. She touched him softly and asks, "Did you really?"

He pulls his lips away from her neck then, looking at her face and trying to find any hint of softness. It's not there. He mumbled, "Of course."

And he can't get why she was being like this. Maybe he knows why, of course, they haven't had sex in like three days?

Her eyes were softer than usual, and her eyes are scanning his face as if looking for more. So he leans in closer to claim his lips again, only to be stopped by her. She chews at her lip and lowers her voice so its hardly above a whisper, "And did you expect that I'd always come at your beckoned call?"

She lets out a breath. Her tone is not accusatory, but genuinely curious. He swallows, shifting a bit. Unsure of what she wants him to say, "Well, yeah."

On any other day, he would respond with a little smirk, 'you came tonight didn't you?' to which she'd smirk back and probably say something like 'not yet' which would get the action of the evening started. But tonight is not a night for sarcasm and jokes, and he should've known he had this coming.

He chews at his lip and allows his eyes to scan her face. That beautiful little face he just wants to take between his hands and kiss all over. He lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. Yugyeom just cocks his head down to kiss her again.

Though Jiwon would face the other direction and look away. This frustrated him. He clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath, "What exactly is wrong with you? What have I done? Just tell me so that I can apologize or make it up to you like you know I would if I just knew what I have done wrong, and then we can go back to normal!"

She looks at him carefully. Her eyes were forming tears. At least this outburst got Jiwon to look a little like ashamed instead of just righteously petty and angry, and she averted her eyes from him as she dropped his hands from where they had been pushing at his chest, admitting some sort of defeat.

"I don't want to," it was barely a mumble, but Yugyeom was close enough for Jiwon's breath to fan against his chin, so he heard it.

"You don't want to what? Tell me? Jiwon-ah, you're going to have to, because I'm not a goddamn mind reader. I'm tired of you avoiding me like this," Yugyeom angrily told her. Jiwon looks like she was going to explode any minute now.

The look in Jiwon's eyes when he lifted his chin to face Yugyeom again was piercing, and something she did not want to name hurt in Yugyeom's chest. "I don't want to go back to normal."

The words and the intensity of Jiwon's gaze upsetm Yugyeom's focus enough for the woman to be able to shove him back. She made it to the room before Yugyeom could react. Jiwon was quickly making her way towards his room where Yugyeom definitely could not go to have this conversation-slash-argument.

Yugyeom could not believe what he heard. He isn't feeling even the least bit calm. Because he does not get why she was being upset. He growls, "Bullshit, Lee Jiwon! Why are you even bitching? You've been avoiding me this whole time! I don't even know why!"

At the same time, she have let her tears fall down her cheeks. She was now crying. Still, she keeps her composure. Jiwon lets out a groan.

"Fuck, Yugyeom, you're impossible," she sobbed. Jiwon knew very well that she was acting like a bitch. It was even childish to just act up like that. Her voice sounds on the verge of breaking, and god, she felt like her heart was breaking, "Yugyeom I— shit, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The apology was very sudden. Yugyeom softened at the sight of her crying. Never did he saw her like this, ever.

"What do you mean by that? Why are you saying sorry?" it was dangerously close to begging, but Yugyeom was getting desperate and Jiwon was so, so confusing. Yugyeom needed to know what was wrong to somehow make this right, even if he did not know if he could.

Jiwon was meeting his eyes earnestly now, and she seemed to be weighing his next words carefully, because he was chewing on his full bottom lip the way she tended to do when she had to say something that was not easy for him, "I, just... I can't."

Her answer brought really more questions than any real answers. So Yugyeom grasped Jiwon's other arm too not to let her escape. Jiwon had dropped his gaze again, her eyes flickering everywhere else but Yugyeom, which was impressive considering that Yugyeom covered a big chunk of his field of vision. Yugyeom did not know what he was asking for, but it got Jiwon to look at him again with desperation and hopelessnes, "Please, Jiwon-ah."

He could have counted her eyelashes from how close they were, but he would not. Jiwon was very pretty, and he already knew that. Yugyeom had known that all these years. He has known the way her eyes blinks, her cute nose, her perfect-shaped lips, and many other things Yugyeom did not want to admit.

But right now, he just wanted her to be okay as she has been acting different lately Yugyeom wanted them to be okay, because he knew that was the most he could get, and he had long since learned to be fine with that. Jiwon slowly opened her mouth to speak, "It's... Yugyeom, I can't, okay? I just can't. I can't keep acting like it's enough when it's not. Just leave me be."

Something in Jiwon's sentence snagged in his brain. She seemed to realize she had said too much too. Because his eyes suddenly widened before he tried to back away, but Yugyeom did not let him go yet, desperate to get to an answer, "Wait what? Not enough? What do you mean?"

There was panic in her eyes, and Yugyeom knew she was onto something, getting closer to the truth, to the real reason why she was avoiding him, "Ah, fuck. Never mind, okay? It's nothing. Forget it."

The thought of what it could be was an excited thrill in his stomach Yugyeom tried to squash from being too eager too early. When nothing was confirmed yet and he might very well be wrong about how to interpret her choice of words. He urged her, "It's not nothing, Lee Jiwon. It very clearly isn't. Come on, spit it out."

Giving up the struggle, Jiwon slumped. Her eyes resigned when they met Yugyeom's. And he briefly wondered how those black pools could portray so many different emotions with very little changes in Jiwon's face. "I like you, okay? That's why I can't stand us being like this anymore. I'd want to but it hurts me that it won't be anything more than just fucking around."

It comes out in one long breath, and he's not even really sure she heard him correctly. He blinks a few times, shaking his head softly as she tries to make sense of what she just said. Even he can't really make sense of it, "You... what?"

Then everything comes out then. She tells her how she's known about this for a while now. How she knew the last time he had her over, she fell more and more in love with every moan that dripped out of her mouth. How she missed her the minute she got out of bed the next morning.

She also tells him how she knows she was a coward. Tells him that she's afraid. That she doesn't expect him to feel the same way, but she has to get it off her chest or she's going to die. Jiwon tells him how sorry she was for hiding it all these years. And how deeply he likes him—maybe even love him—since that hook up in high school.

Jiwon was not sure of the many things outside of her studies. But one thing she's absolutely certain as the test was over is that she had done the thing she never expected. She had fallen for the boy she hated for most of her life.

A mistake. It absolutely had to be a mistake. There was no way she could be in love with Kim Yugyeom. Absolutely no way in hell she had feelings for him that ran any deeper than discontent. Because after the bathroom incident in Jeongguk's house, which no one knew but them (thankfully), it was preceded with more.

Maybe she just got caught up with the feeling of pleasure. And her mind tricked itself into thinking she liked Yugyeom. Jiwon did not love him. She loved his dick, and that was all.

It was a good thing that she was leaving. Jiwon thought that it will help her forget about the boy who never had been more than just an actual fuckboy. His smile and and annoying tendency reminds her than there was no way he was the one who have stolen her heart.

High school passes quickly. Jiwon passed the exit exams and got a Protégé Program scholarship. It was an opportunity for dancers to train with world-renowned choreographers in every regional city in the States. Not only will she have the opportunity to work in the dance industry, but she also have the chance to compete for the title of becoming an Elite PULSE Protégé.

Of course, she accepted it without a second thought. It was only Jimin who sent her off, her small circle there as well. Though, she cannot help but notice and miss a certain someone.

It doesn't matter, she thought. Having her parents and friends is all that's important. Besides, he has a life—a job, a career, maybe even a relationship. No time to see his old 'friend' off for the next few years. So Jiwon goes and lives her life to the fullest. She develops as her own person, not an extension of Kim Yugyeom.

It's only when she have had a break from her career. Jimin had been also keeping her updated. As her career starts to blow in Los Angeles, he and his group's fame were also skyrocketing.

Getting on the plane seems surreal. It's to be a long non-stop flight, so she watches a movie and read a book and sleep for a majority of it, only waking when it's time to put back on her seat belt. The first grazes of the motherland against the horizon stir excitement in her stomach, and she sure looks crazy with the giddy look on her face.

Jiwon dreamed of coming back home for ages. She wanted to live with her family and friends and familiarity. Although moving forced her out of her comfort zone, forced her to make friends, the feeling of nostalgia she got when she finally stepped into arrivals almost made her tear up. It was like yesterday that she had been almost trembling in her shoes, nervously looking over the plane ticket alone.

It was one of their friend's idea to head out for her first night since she came back home.

It was the perfect time to arrive. Most were too drunk to recognize her but those that did were so nice and sweet that her nerves completely dissolved. Whoever was on the music really wasn't taking it easy—her limbs felt like they were trembling the second she got within one meter of the door, but she enjoyed it. Jiwon forgot how distracting parties could be.

"I'm gonna find Jeongguk!" Jimin shouted over the music.

Jiwon strays from the large bowl of bright red punch that most definitely contains a whole lot of miscellaneous alcohols and decide to mix a drink of mostly cranberry juice and a splash of whatever alcohol was nearest. Someone walked past behind her and the sound of music got louder.

A guy with very fair skin, whose figure was tall and manly invades her sight. He's got black hair and his tattoos were visible from his mesh black top. For a second she thinks her heart stops.

He's wearing a pair of ripped jeans and his mesh top perfectly showcased the art on his arms. Jiwon feels her throat go dry and she's certain that it was him. He has gotten hot. Yugyeom smiled, "I almost didn't recognize you, it's been a while."

Jiwon took a deep breath, "Yeah, it has. How are you? I've heard so much about your group. I'm glad that you have made it big."

She's all the more surprised when he plops down next to her and bumps her shoulders together. "Thank you. You too, though. You're a hotshot in America. I've seen your videos."

There was a silence. But a certain song comes on and he suddenly perks up and downs the rest of his cup so quickly that she almost choke on her own, "I love this song. Dance with me? For old times sake?"

The last thing Jiwon wanted was to stand close to him for fear of literally jumping his bones but that giddiness that came from the drinking point of no return had started to fizzle and she was most definitely not in her right mind. She took another large gulp and shrugged. "Why the hell not?"

Yugyeom manages to push through to the center of the dancing and settles his hands on her waist. Instinctively her hands go to his shoulders, and for a while it's completely innocent and fun. But the song slows down for the bridge, and he pulls her closer, and he looks at her with eyes much too affectionate for the boy she hooked up with many times in high school.

Maybe it's the buzz in her system, the cloud over her thoughts, but when he starts to lean in, she did too. When his lips meet hers, they move in unison and groan when he tugs at her hair. He pants, "Let's go upstairs."

Jiwon was wrecked. Both of them were equally ruined from three years without any contact whatsoever.

He leads her up the stairs passed mutual group of friends. He grins down at Jiwon as he pushes open doors and peeks inside an empty room. Eagerly following him in, his shirt is gone before she can notice and her mouth waters at the sight. Tattooed white muscular skin that she so desperately wanted to to suck on.

"Come here," Yugyeom says, voice gruff. He reaches for Jiwon and cups her face. His kisses were growing rougher by the minute, and before they know it they're lying on the bed with her legs around his waist and his crotch grinding against hers. He grunts, "Fuck, you're hotter than ever."

She laughs breathlessly and twist until he's flipped into his back and Jiwon was on top. Yugyeom's arms reach for her shirt top to see his eyes focused on the sliver of skin that's revealed. That was when she freezes. What was she doing?

This is the first time she has seen Yugyeom in three years and she's about to drop her underwear because they had unfinished business. This was bad enough, of course, without touching on the fact that he was probably only sleeping with her because she was the only girl he could sleep with back in high school.

She was stupid and wanted to stop. She wanted to push him away, but her clinging to his body for more friction means otherwise.

That was the start of having no strings attached. Or maybe it was the continuity of their unfinished business.

The room was silent beside their lips colliding one another and their bodies moving. His hands were soft to her, so soft that she didn't feel him snake around and take her upper undergarment off, letting them have skin to skin contact. Yugyeom began to kiss along her collarbone down to her breasts, grabbing one in one hand while the other was being devoured by his mouth. He said, "Still craving you all these years."

Her hands were cheeky, moving down to his pants and slowly palming his dick. She murmured, "Me too."

Jiwon moaned his name and let him do whatever he wanted. Yugyeom came up and moved back to sucking her neck as her hand came into contact with his hard-on, gently stroking it so that he'll be ready. Yugyeom took over her mouth when she was not bothering to fight for dominance. He continued and went to below her ear, whispering words to her.

"Ready?" she nodded, placing her hands on his head, playing with the tiny hairs he had on the upper part of his neck.

She felt him, she felt all of him when it came into contact. He took a breath, a few, and she did too. Then they began to move, she moaned, he moaned, names began rolling off their lips. They fucked. It was simple, he was soft at first, but began pounding. His ringed hand came into contact with the headboard, as she grasped his back, definitely leaving scratch marks behind.

They rode out their high together and in sync. He let out a shaky breath and fell on top of her. Sweat in his hair. Her hand came to his curls, pushing them back, as he placed his head on her breast.

It was not a mistake, though, because it was amazing. Jiwon just lived like this for a little. She wanted to take it all in, him, and everything—even if there would be no strings attached.

Yugyeom presses his lips together and closes his eyes like he's trying to remember how it all ended up here. It was so quiet compared to when the two of them were screaming earlier.

Though, Jiwon felt like a weight has been lifted off her shoulder. The last time they had sex out of Yugyeom's anger, it didn't stop her from thinking about what she was feeling.

Their relationship was not only complicated. It was toxic. It was doomed to go nuclear and leave everything in pieces. She knew it all. But Jiwon wasn't strong enough to walk away. She was horrified, it was unmistakable.

And right now, Jiwon was done putting herself through pain she didn't have to endure. She wanted to stop putting herself in the constant pain of having no commitment. She wiped her tears, "I'm sorry, I just... I'm sorry."

Although Yugyeom was always pretty shitty at looking out for her, he couldn't stand to see her hurting. And after the stunt she pulled just now, Jiwon knew that things were going to be rough for a while. He said, "Don't say sorry, Jiwon-ah. But I think it's best if I drive you home for now."

He drove her to her place in silence. Both did not dare to speak at all.

Jiwon was grateful for this, considering that it must be the last of them. The radio silence that they were hearing was only making everything painful. And she cannot help but think what could have happened if she did not tell her. Maybe things would be alright if she just disregarded it... not.

She was amazed at how calm they have managed to walk side by side to her place. But for a moment she ached at how much emptier her place could be for the following more days. It should be no surprise that things will change.

There was also this unsure feeling if she's going to be angry that Yugyeom was not saying anything. Or angry if he was acting like nothing had happened, except awkward.

Jiwon cannot even say his name when Yugyeom helped her on her bed. Because it feels... intimate, somehow. She avoided thanking him since it's ending, and what it would mean for the last time. Yugyeom nodded once and was about to leave, "Please, stay... even just for now. I need you, by my side."

It was as thought her mind was suddenly, completely telling the truth. She was thinking straight in a calm manner, maybe even more so. Though Yugyeom have the power to disrupt her ability to think clearly.

His voice was raspy, his skin briefly brushing against her as he laid down beside her sent shivers down her spine. Yugyeom blankly said, "Okay."

The word 'okay' is the equivalent to when someone asks her how she was doing, and she says 'fine.' It isn't an honest response. But it's enough. It allows the other person to look the other way and pretend that things are better than they really are.

Jiwon accepted this okay as exactly that, a fog of false security, blanketing itself over the space of her bedroom.

She inched forward and caressed his face, like claiming her as her own. Jiwon leaned against him as though Yugyeom was the only one in the world that could keep her sane.

And in that moment, absorbing his warmth, there was nothing in the world that could hurt her. Except for maybe, the person that was holding her.

She looked at him as to memorize her last glimpses of Yugyeom. And Yugyeom tries to do the same, looking at the way her eyes formed tears that slashed down her face, her lips forming a genuine smile. She then turns away eventually, scrubbing the back of his wrist over his eyes.

Jiwon can only touch his face and look at him, and hope they'll eventually be okay.

And as she shuts her eyes, she can feel half of her world being torn away, but it's better this way. It will hurt more is she sees him walk away.

二 ⏪⏸⏩ 四

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 smut #got7 yugyeom #got7 kim yugyeom #kim yugyeom smut #kim yugyeom #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut

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faces-in-unexpected-places · 6 years ago

Text

Do You Have the Time? Episode 007: Family

[March 26th, 2018, 11:53]

Madison stood outside of the main chemistry building with her headphones on and scrolled through various apps on her phone. She had tied her windbreaker around her waist because the weather decided to cooperate half-way through the morning. March was never a predictable month where she lived. Some days were freezing, others were windy, some snowed, and even more variants were sunny. Today was supposed to be freezing, but all patches of snow were gone by 10:00. A glare pierced her retina, and she shielded her face with her free hand. And look who decided to come out today. Luckily for Madison, the impossible-to-perceive changes made by the climate’s spring season often left her backpack riddled with useful things. Usually they were left unintentionally hidden somewhere on account of the sudden need for some other seasonal accessory in the past, but she wasn’t about to start doubting her convenient and forgetful way for coming through for her future self now.

Madison rifled through the various pockets and compartments of her bag for her pair of sunglasses. Within the minute, she found them stowed away in some place she has no recollection of putting them in. In that moment, she could feel the sun. She put her Ray-Bans on.

People complimented her on her sunglasses a lot, which surprised her when she bought them. At first, she was worried that she might look too much like Harry Potter because the lenses were circular; but she later decided that it didn’t matter. Harry Potter was freaking awesome and if someone said that she did in fact look like him, then it would have been the kindest words they could have given her. She wondered if Harry wore round sunglasses just like his regular prescription. So long as he had a separate pair of sunglasses that were prescription and he didn’t have those clip-on lenses that old people use. Maybe sixty-year-old HP would use them.

Madison hummed in her thoughts and chuckled.

She wondered if Leopold wore those kinds of glasses. Immediately after, Madison remembered that Leopold did not wear prescription glasses to begin with, so the clip-ons would be pointless. The clip-ons did seem useful, though. If she could pull off regular, circular sunglasses, maybe she could sport some prescription glasses with sunglass clip-ons. She supposed the only conflict standing in her way was that she had 20/20 vision.

She opened her web browser on her phone and typed ‘how to damage your eyesight’. Something about her train of thought and actions caused her to erupt in laughter. Surprisingly, the first few search results are exactly what she was ‘looking for’. She rolled her eyes at the idea, chuckled and returned to her various phone apps. Jeremy was four minutes late. Maybe she would hassle him for his obvious inaccuracy. Her grin strengthened on her face as she considered the idea. A message appeared at the top of her screen while she was on her entertainment high. The last thing she wanted to see at the moment.

‘General Chemistry I: Grade Posted 11:54’.

Her smile wore away and she opened up the notification. Might as well get it over with as soon as she could. The reason that she was let out early, that she hid from the group chat, was because today was an exam day. Her third exam out of five. And she also happened to be blessed with a professor who is so eager to mark all of her wrong answers that he does so before the official end of the class period. Exam III: 71%, C-.

Madison sighed and shut off the phone’s screen. Stuffing it back into her pocket felt like the best course of action in response to that news. Just in time, Jeremy pulled up in front of the chemistry building for her. Eager to leave campus, she leapt down the stairs and threw herself into the passenger seat of the car. Jeremy quietly acknowledged her and set them on course for home.

“So, what happened with the lab?” Madison asked, expecting further explanation from the group chat..

“Leslie and I made some headway before actual work started, but once it did, Sophia came in and shut it all down,” he replied flatly.

“God, what did she do?”

“Found a way to ‘evacuate’ us because of some suspected gas leak.”

“Damn. Is it legit, do you think?”

“Not sure. We didn’t have enough time to really investigate it. We just took everything we could and left before they kicked us out,” he explained, “I had to take IO to stay in the robotics lab.”

“Oh, poor little guy. That sucks.”

“The robotics lab… that Sophia volunteers in,” he said uncomfortably.

“What?” Madison yelped and turned towards him, “Why would you do that?”

“What else could I have done, Madison?” he replied, sharply, “I have no other spaces to keep IO in. You know what happens if we keep him in the apartment.”

“I know, but Sophia? Really?”

“She’s not the only one that works there. And she’s a volunteer anyway. I’ll keep in touch with IO the whole time our lab is closed.”

“Well, good luck. Hope the poor thing is okay.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There was a silent lull for a few minutes. Madison tensely looked out the window while Jeremy drove without uttering a word. She brainstormed ways to break the awkward static before they arrived at their apartment.

“So you and Les spent some alone time together this morning then, huh?” She joked.

“Madison, please.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.”

Another awkward silence. So, he definitely didn’t think that was funny.

“Are you excited for the research-dinner party?” She asked.

“I suppose,” he answered, “It’ll be nice to update Leopold on what Leslie and I put together. I’d really like to get this preliminary stuff out of the way, and start testing our hypotheses.”

“I’m excited to see Leslie’s place!” She added, “She’s so organised, I bet it will be super clean and stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will be,” Jeremy said in a lighter tone, “What do you think you’ll do in the meantime before it’s time to leave?”

“Ehh… not sure. Maybe dick around online for a bit. I can only take so much of being aggressively average at chemistry before I decide to give it a rest and waste my time on the computer.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you know when it’s time to go,” Jeremy said as he pulled into their parking space outside of their apartment complex.

It didn’t take long for Jeremy to disappear into his room after they managed to make their way up the stairs and into their apartment. Madison entered her own room, slumped down into her bed and rested her body. She could feel her limbs get heavy as she stared up at her ceiling mobile decorated with different coloured leaves. She felt that adult mobiles were a far under-appreciated invention.

Despite the tense silences that happened in the car, she felt that her conversation with Jeremy ended on a definitively neutral tone, rather than a hostile one. She’d take neutral over that any day. The only thing left for her to do, that she could think of, was brush up on all board games that Leslie may have, so that she could wipe the floor with her, Jeremy and Leopold at the party.

Jeremy let his backpack plummet to the floor and settled onto his bed, facedown on the mattress. He laid still for a few minutes, simply letting the tension out of his limbs. It hadn’t occurred to him how stiff he was throughout the day. From working with Leslie, getting frustrated with GraviTime, having an altercation with Leslie, having numerous confusing altercations with Sophia, and then talking to Madison on the way home. Though thankfully, their last conversation didn’t seem as difficult as their previous ones.

He rolled over to the side of his bed to inspect the papers in his bag. There was a large folder that he had almost forgotten about. It was filled with lab reports from the 1 credit hour undergraduate physics lab course that he was a teaching assistant for. He was grateful that the university offered him a contract to TA one of the lab courses for money in addition to giving him a stipend. Renting his room in the apartment would have been difficult without the deal. Despite the variety of kids he saw in an introductory course, it was actually a refreshing way to spend his time. Grading needed to be finished by the 28th.

Before surrendering to the pull to the bed, Jeremy sluggishly ambled off of his bed and knelt down in front of his ant farm sitting on a small stand near his door. It looked like the microcosm might need some water soon. He wondered how ants were so structured and coordinated. As did everyone with an ant farm, he supposed. If these ants could thrive and build with only the limited resources provided in their space, then surely he and everyone else could function a few days without the lab. Maybe he would work on an idea for an alternate location to do work like Leslie did with her dinner party.

[March 26th, 2018, 14:40]

Leslie shambled up the last flight of stairs with various reusable grocery bags filling her hands and hanging off her body. She struggled down the hallway, huffing and contorting her body to keep the bags from tipping and spilling her dinner ingredients. At last, apartment 4 on the third floor. She beamed in relief, but the expression quickly faded. She needed to unlock the door. A faint sigh escaped as she shuffled her purse around until she could access it. With just a few seconds to spare, Leslie managed to unlock her door, get inside and drop half the bags down on her dining room table. Another moment, and there may have been a messy disaster. She relieved herself of the burden from the bags slung over her shoulders, and slumped down into one of the chairs at the dinning room table, rubbing her arms.

Looking about her apartment, she immediately began picking apart the things that needed to be fixed before her guests arrived. Too many objects on her coffee table in front of the couch, all surfaces needed dusting, dishes needed to be done, groceries to be put away. The list of things was never ending. Leslie was having difficulty with her living room for one major reason. Her television sat close to her front door; in front of it was her coffee table, and then the couch. And she had her matching ottoman off in the corner, because there was not enough room for everything. Her issue was that she spent very little time watching TV; and what if there was not enough room for everybody to sit after dinner? The TV might be in the way, or one of them could have to sit close to the door, and they might be uncomfortable with that. She could already feel the party was going to be a mess. She should just take that spot herself to circumnavigate any other disaster.

Leslie shook herself out of her ceaseless train of thought and switched on her ambient sound generator sitting on the bar that bordered the kitchen. She preferred to have some sort of noise while she was home, and music and TV were both too distracting. Would they think her sound generator was weird or uncomfortable without any other noise? Maybe she should play music for them. Her favourite soundscape came on and played sounds of ocean waves and a crackling fire. Tones like those swept her away into a peaceful future, lacking the constant stress and demand for work. She could float away for a moment or two. Maybe one day she could let go of it all. It could be her and Leopold sharing in the beauty as lifetime friends. Jeremy and Madison could come too if they wanted. She was sure that they would find a way to be content. Her cell phone suddenly blared its ringer. Leslie jumped right out of her daydream. She leapt back to the dining room table and scrambled for her phone. It rested between her ear and her shoulder as she hauled bags of groceries to the kitchen counter.

“Hi mom,” she said in her cheery voice, excited to talk. Conversation usually kept her worries at bay. She unpacked the bags and searched for the ingredients’ rightful places.

“Good afternoon, darling. How are you?” her mother responded with a warm and firm tone.

“Good! Just got back from the store with some food. I’m having a little get-together tonight, so I wanted to make a good meal for everyone. What do you need?” She asked, ready to help.

Mrs. Goodchild disregarded Leslie’s question by refusing to acknowledge it. A trace of grief was left in her tone, as she responded to her daughter.

“Oh, a get-together, huh?” she asked with hesitation, “That sounds like fun. What is the occasion?”

“It’s for work.”

“Oh. Well, good for you, sweetie. I’m sure Dr. Looney will be as big of a fan of your cooking as your father and I,” she said. Leslie pulled out the eggplants that she bought and set them off to the side on the counter.

“Aww, thanks mom. I’m glad you and dad liked it all so much. Thankfully the internet was passionate about making tutorials for so many dishes. It was a convenient hobby to have to hold down the fort for you two!”

The line went quiet and Leslie was perplexed. Her mother took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

“Yeah, Leslie, speaking of that…”

“Yes?”

“Well, since you mentioned it… I’ve been thinking a lot about the way your father and I have been for a while. Our financial situation. And I wanted— uh, is now an okay time to talk, by the way?”

“Yeah! Everything’s fine! I’m just cooking and cleaning, getting things ready for everyone later. I could use a bit of time away from the demands of science. What’s up?”

“I wanted to call and say that I’m sorry that we're still relying on you. I was thinking about how we still depend on you for things now, even though you moved out years ago. We shouldn’t have had to rely on you when you were just a little girl either, but we did. And I want to change that now. You were always a huge help to us both, and we we’re grateful for you stepping up, and being responsible and such a good sport. We still are! I’m just sorry that nothing has really changed, even though I said it would. I thought of something that I hope will make it up to you?” she said with uncertainty.

“I know that you’re sorry, mom, don’t worry. We’ve already talked it over before! It’s really okay, though. It was tough, and maybe I could have been doing other things in my spare time as a kid, but it was useful to me! Cooking and working aren’t such bad things. I like them enough to throw a party for my coworkers! And my house is always really clean because that’s what I did back home. It worked out for everyone!”

Milk in the fridge. Sauce in the fridge. Noodles go… they could go next to the eggplants.

Her mother sighed, and there was a moment of silence on the line.

“I understand, but. I just meant to call and say that it wasn’t fair for you. And maybe you can pursue some of the things you missed out on, now that you’re older and have the time,” she suggested, “My idea, if you wanted, is that you could move back to our house for a while to relax and not stress so much. We still have your room ready, and you wouldn’t be paying for rent in two different places, anymore…”

“It would be easier, but I do really like being out here, mom! I’m close to work and there’s more happening in the city. I’m happy to help you out!”

Bags get folded and placed in the cabinet furtherest from the dining room.

“Okay,” Mrs. Goodchild whispered, “Is there anything that dad or I could do for you?”

“No, I don’t think so!” Leslie said, absent-mindedly, “Is there anything I can do for you guys?”

“No, honey, thank you. You’ve done plenty for us.”

“Did you guys get my money transfer yet?” Leslie moved the conversation onward. She heard her mother shuffle some papers around and exhale.

“Yes, it’s right here. It’s a lot. You’re sure you won’t need at least some of this? It’s more than just the rent.”

“No, I’ll be fine! You guys need to fix one of the cars, right? You can put the rest towards that!”

“Your dad and I can handle those payments ourselves, Leslie.”

“Well, now you can handle them better! You’ll pay off the services faster.”

“Thank you, hun, that’s very sweet of you.”

“How has dad been?”

“Oh, you know your father. Still driving trucks for long hours. We’re hoping he gets a promotion soon, but… we’re not too sure. Time will tell, I suppose.”

“And you?” Leslie prodded.

“The restaurant hasn’t been getting as many customers as it did when we opened last year. I’ve been thinking about making a change, if things don’t look up soon.”

Leslie found the ground beef sitting out on the counter, and stuffed it in her fridge before she forgot again. She couldn’t remember how it got there.

“I’m sorry to hear that, mom. I hope things look up soon.”

“I hope so, too,” she said quietly.

“Maybe, to take your minds off of it, you can both make a trip out here and we’ll all spend the day together!” Leslie suggested with enthusiasm.

“That would be wonderful. Your father would be excited to do that.”

“Good! We should plan that soon!”

“Yes, we should. In the meantime though, I’ve got to start getting ready for work, okay?”

“Okay!”

“It was nice to hear your voice again, honey. Have fun with dinner and everyone tonight, and be sure to say hi and thank you again to Dr. Looney for all of his help.”

“I will! I always do,” she said with a sunny smile, “It was nice to talk to you too, mom. Have a good day at work, and I can’t wait to see you two again. Don’t worry too much about me!”

Mrs. Goodchild let out a breathy laugh.

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart. Don’t work too hard.”

“Impossible!” Leslie joked.

“Talk soon, darling. I love you.”

“I love you too! Bye-bye!”

Click.

Leslie leaned against the counter with a smile. She loved hearing from her parents. Especially her mom because she was always looking out for her. It was probably where Leslie got her consistently concerned disposition, too. Although, her mother is concerned with a serious undertone. The cheeriness likely came from her father, ultimately to form Leslie’s core expressions. Cheerful, concerned and eager to help. She chuckled as she thought about what an odd combination of traits that was to exhibit in someone. She wondered if anybody was ever perplexed at her demeanour. It wouldn’t surprise her. Leslie’s smile faded away as she kept her mother in her thoughts. It was flattering to be so concerned with Leslie’s wellness, but sometimes, she wished that her mom could relax about it. The hardest part for her was that she could do nothing to change her mother.

Leslie put her thoughts to rest again and distracted herself with the housework. If the house-party was going to be a success, she would have to hurry. The seating arrangement problem had been solved, but everything still needed to be dusted, and all clutter had to be organised and tidied. Disinfecting all surfaces would be a plus, although her time could run out before that happened. She scurried down the one hallway in her apartment that led past her bathroom, bedroom, and finally terminated at a small storage closet housing her cleaning supplies. Quickly, she delved into the tiny room dragging out a vacuum, a duster, and a spray bottle of disinfectant. The vacuum slipped away from her and swung the floor in her haste. Before she bent to pick it back up, a peculiar colour caught her eye. Something orange stuck to the door facing the inside of the closet. A post-it note. Leslie furrowed her brow and slowly picked it off the door.

“Relax and slow down. Try classical. Remember to have fun!”

The handwriting was awfully… chicken-scratchy. She wondered how long it had been in there. Maybe she’d been a little too focused on work and her parents lately to remember. Her apartment did need a decent cleaning up, so it could have been there for quite some time. There was certainly something vaguely familiar. Was it the colour? Or the placement? An involuntary sigh sheepishly escaped from her mouth. She should be able to keep track of her own house, she’s an adult. She escorted the note down the hall and into her room, which also needed cleaning. Maybe she’d just close the door before they arrived. If she ran short on time, of course. Leslie precariously hid the note away in her nightstand drawer and returned to her storage closet mess with a foggy mind.

“Classical what?” she asked aloud and glanced back to her bedroom door, as if there would be a response. She shrugged and dragged her cleaning supplies to the living room. The most efficient order of tasks would be… clutter, clean the surfaces, dirty dishes, vacuum, then cooking. And closing her bedroom door. Cooking was the most important, because it is not a dinner party without dinner. Her computer and notes needed to be easily accessible, too. It wasn’t a research dinner party without the research.

The top priority was supposed to be work, after all. Briefing Leopold on the progress that she and Jeremy made that morning. She wondered if Jeremy felt comfortable coming to her house. Partly because of the end of their last personal conversation, and partly because he seemed slightly uncomfortable with everything in general. She chuckled to herself. Hopefully everything would go well. Leslie resolved to simply make the most of the night to the best of her ability. Cooking, cleaning, research, activities, whatever got done would get done.

As long as the four of them were happy, she could consider the party a good one.

[03–26–2018; 18:12_Research_Video_Log_002_START]

“Doo doo-doo doo-dooooooo,” Madison sang and pranced behind Jeremy on the way to their car. Their apartment complex’s parking lot was decently packed, and the sky was a deep blue. The sun would be setting in about thirty minutes. Jeremy looked back at her.

“What are you doing?”

“I feel like you guys should be taking advantage of this camcorder by doing more science vlogs.”

“They’re research video logs,” he said.

“Yeah, same thing, nerd. You guys could be on YouTube!”

“Madison, we’re a theoretical physics laboratory, not a make-up tutorial channel.”

Her jaw dropped in surprise, she averted her eyes and her cheeks warmed up. “How did you know I watched those…” she asked quietly.

“I didn’t, it was just an example,” he said and shrugged as he climbed into the driver seat of their car.

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair!” Madison exclaimed, following his motions into the passenger side.

“You brought it on yourself.”

“And you brought this on yourself,” she laughed and zoomed the camera up on Jeremy’s face so that it covered the whole viewing window.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I can’t control it.”

“Yes, you can,” he replied tiredly as he started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot, “You do know that you’re wasting a lot of memory, right?”

“That’s what happens when you make a time travel documentary, Jeremy!”

“It’s not a time travel documentary. It’s supposed to be for recording our experiments and results.”

“A documentary is way cooler, though.”

“Okay, just… if you transfer that footage to your computer fast enough that running out of memory won’t be a problem in the lab, then you can make your time travel documentary.”

“YES,” she yelled, “You mean our documentary.

Jeremy sighed and groaned while coming to the first red light of the drive. “If I say yes, will you please just stop.”

“Okay, alright, fine, sorry,” she mocked, “…Can I interview you for the documentary?”

“I don’t promise accurate answers to ridiculous questions.”

Green light.

“So, mister, doctor Jeremy—”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“––what is your favourite thing about your amazing, one-of-a-kind sister?”

“How much she talks.”

“Really?!” she said with a laugh.

“No.”

“Oh,” she dismissed, “That’s lame!”

Jeremy kept his eyes on the road.

“Okay, how about this. What do you think Leslie is going to make for dinner?”

Jeremy furrowed his brow while he was thinking.

“Huh. I don’t know… maybe a family kind of dinner.”

“What? What even is that?” Madison asked.

He shrugged.

“I don’t know. Something families eat.”

“Wow, what an oddly vague and cryptic answer! As if family dinner food is somehow fundamentally different from everyone else's!”

“Whatever, Madison. I’m driving."

“Thank you for being here today mister, professor Jeremy—”

“Also not a professor.”

“—do you have any final words for the audience?”

“Not particularly,” he said.

“A man of few words, but eloquent, nonetheless.”

“Hey, look at the directions and tell me if that’s her apartment building,” Jeremy instructed, “I think it might be, but I want to be sure.”

“Oh, okay sure,” Madison said, as she distractedly pointed the view of the camera towards her lap to look at her phone.

[03–26–2018; 18:24_Research_Video_Log_002_END]

#do you have the time?#episode 007 #leslie #jeremy #madison #IO #sophia #writer #writer on tumblr #time travel #science fiction

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pedalfuzz · 6 years ago

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2018 Pedal Fuzz Favorites

Contributors from Pedal Fuzz have weighed in on their favorite albums of 2018. there was (thankfully) no shortage of excellent music released this year. We hope you give these artists a listen, a share, and maybe even smash that ‘buy’ button on Bandcamp or at the counter of your local record store.

***note***these are listed in order they were sent to the editor

Dustin K. Britt

Al Riggs, WE'RE SAFE BUT FOR HOW LONG

David Byrne, AMERICAN UTOPIA

Father John Misty, GOD'S FAVORITE CUSTOMER

Florence + The Machine, HIGH AS HOPE

Gorillaz, THE NOW NOW

Janelle Monae, DIRTY COMPUTER

Mary Lattimore, HUNDREDS OF DAYS

Neko Case, HELL-ON

Sarah Shook & The Disarmers, YEARS

Troye Sivan, BLOOM

Jon Foster

The Nels Cline 4 – Currents, Constellations – Nels Cline is one of those figures that’s always been on my peripheral. His name has floated around progressive independent music for decades. His association with Wilco didn’t cause me to go through his discography. This record just popped up this year, a little promotion from a devotee helped a lot. Seeing him play at Big Ears this past year solidified my interest.

Currents, Constellations is fascinating, the interplay between Nels and technical wizard Julian Lage keeps pushing the music forward, sometimes noisy and sometimes jazz freak-out. It’s a perfect gateway record, not all the way jazz and not all the way progressive rock. After listening to the record for a few weeks I ordered the last two Lage records and a couple Cline ones. Julian Lage’s Modern Lore is also on my best of 2018 list.

Similar Fashion – Portrait Of – I don’t know anything about this band. I don’t know where they come from. I have no context other than a simple post from the producer, John Dietrich of Deerhoof fame. Just that last bit of information caused me to click on the link, a task any music fan can do dozens of times in a day when the music is in front of you all the time. Another Bandcamp link, nah…I’ll pass.

Thankfully I clicked on the link and heard a record I immediately loved. It was energetic and progressive, a little silly even. How many records reference the TV show, Scandal? One thread going through the record is this quasi-Raymond Scott feel. He’s the guy who wrote a lot of music for Looney Toons, and I love him. Imagine Bugs Bunny chasing Foghorn Leghorn through a forest while a small group of music majors raised on jazz and rock and roll score it. The best songs on the record are full of exuberance and sugared up energy.

Oh Sees – Smote Reverser – Oh Sees have a lot of records. They might have too many records. Because they have so many records it becomes difficult to get excited about a new one. Although I listen to all of their new records I don’t buy them automatically. I feel like I need to sample them. Recently they’ve been going through this tour of the outer fringes of rock and roll subgenres. You know, last year’s record was the folk record with psychedelic touches. They’ve done the garage record with psychedelic touches. Smote Reverser is their early 70’s hard rock record with psychedelic touches.

When trying to describe the record, I feel like I have nothing positive to say about it. At the core there’s the usual really loud Dwyer leads over the top of everything. You know they’re coming, they’re always there, it should be an annoying cliché but they sound so good. His tone is delicious. Mix in dueling drums and an interest in letting songs unfold for no particular reason, and it’s a record to fall into.

Palberta – Roach Goin’ Down – This is a punk record. It’s ragged and personal and it feels like it could fall apart at any moment. Sometimes I think the musicians are superb players, while on other songs I feel like it’s the first day of them playing their instruments. The songs are short blasts of postpunk joy that could have been made in 1980.

While I’m enthralled with this record, and enjoyed them immensely when I saw them live in Raleigh, I worry about them. I worry that this perfect moment will be ruined if they become a little more adept at their instruments. Taking away some of the passion in their playing might neuter their effectiveness. A better scenario might be for them to break up and move onto other things leaving this batch of songs as their only work.

New Optimism – Amazon to LeFrak – New Optimism is basically Miho Hatori, most notably of Cibo Matto fame. It was a record I didn’t know existed until I started down a random google search hole. It was one of those days where think to yourself, “Oh, I wonder what they’re doing” and then six hours have past. Not setting out to find new music by her and then there it is, was like a wonderful present. Unfortunately it’s only an EP. Unfortunately I haven’t heard anyone talk about the record at all. It came out in July and I worry it’s already buried under mounds of other new releases. Googling Hatori again I realize she has produced a full length record I didn’t know anything about. This last surprise was released in October.

The music on Amazon to LeFrak is right in line with her work in Cibo Matto and her painfully underrated Ecdysis from 2005. The music is colorful and dancey, vibrant and a little quirky. I hope this flurry of creative continues into the New Year.

Eddie Garcia

In 2018 I listened to and focused on music from films as much or more than straight-up albums. Here are my favorites, they’re all magnificent and worthy of your time.

Favorite Film Scores & Soundtracks

Hereditary - Colin Stetson

Mandy - Jóhann Jóhannsson

Suspiria - Thom Yorke

Black Panther - Kendrick Lamar

You Were Never Really Here - Johnny Greenwood

A Star Is Born - Lady Gaga, Bradley Cooper

Vox Lux - Sia / Scott Walker

Revenge - ROB

Kin - Mogwai

Thoroughbreds - Erik Friedlander

Eighth Grade - Anna Meredith

42 Grams - Takénobu

*Honorable mention* Halloween (2018) - John Carpenter. I mean, it was great to hear The Theme loud & revved up/industrialized in a theatre, but not really doing much new here if I’m being honest. Love to John Carpenter forever though!

Favorite Albums

There was much that I ‘liked’ this year in music but less that I ‘loved’ (gonna blame that partially on a shortage of deep listening time). I also had a few instances where live greatly outweighed the record, no matter how much I tried to listen. So rather than list out 40 albums, here are the ones that really affected me, so much so that I even have physical copies of 90% of these.

Sons of Kemet - Your Queen Is A Reptile

Bill Frisell - Music Is

Ohmme - Parts

The Nels Cline 4 - Currents, Constellations

The Messthetics - s/t

Mary Lattimore - Hundreds of Days - Meg Baird & Mary Lattimore - Ghost Forests

Dark Prophet Tongueless Monk - Insides

Yo La Tengo - There’s A Riot Going On

Shane Parish - Child Asleep In The Rain

Low - Double Negative

Marisa Anderson - Cloud Corner

Mind Over Mirrors - Bellowing Sun

Renata Zeiguer - Old Ghost

The Sea And Cake - Any Day

Oh Sees - Smote Reverser

Yonatan Gat - Universalists

Julian Lage - Modern Lore

***I just picked up The Hex by Richard Swift and Mattson 2 Play ‘A Love Supreme’ but as they haven’t gotten a full spin yet I can’t include but they sound mighty fine so far.

Favorite Pop Song

Kimbra - “Top Of the World”

*I don’t really listen to much modern pop music but this song slays and instantly appealed to me the first time I heard it.

Patrick Wall’s Top Ten

Knee Meets Jerk, or: In Which a Semiretired Music Critic and Journalist Offers Brief, Non-Critical and Non-Sequitur Thoughts on His Favorite Music of 2018. Because, Hey, Music Is Personal and Subjective, Right?

*Results listed in alphabetical order and subject to change.

Bad years look better when they’re gone.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more unstable — professionally, personally, psychologically — in my life than I did in 2018. In the past eighteen months, I've moved twice — from a new home to an old home to very, very far away from home. I bounced from a solid if unexciting job to no job to high-paying but infrequent freelance jobs to steady and cool but low-paying jobs to a high-paying but stressful and wholly unfulfilling job. Commutes went from long car rides to long bike rides and long walks to long train and subway rides. As summer faded to fall and turned to bitter winter, the world just felt increasingly, incontrovertibly, ineffably doomed. New homes didn’t feel as such. Old ones seemed gone, unable to be returned to — no man, Heraclitus mused, can step twice in the same stream.

If things were roiling internally, they weren’t any better externally. The planet is doomed. The authoritarians won. The world got colder. Some of my friends got cancer. Some of them, their cancers came back. Some of my friends got sad. Some of them came to the brink of death. Some of them got help, got better. Some of them didn’t make it through the year, taken either by illness or by their own hands, their voices now silhouettes, never coming back.

All this is to say: I have done far less critical listening this year than in the past. My time is more limited. My tastes are broader and more tolerant now than when I was a quote-unquote critic, but they’re harder to fathom. The things I connected with this year, I don’t know that I could explain why. I don’t know why Cave’s “San’Yago” spoke to me on the same level as Janelle Monae’s “Make Me Feel,” Jeff Parker’s “Blackman,” They Might Be Giants’ “Last Wave,” The Fearless Flyers’ “Ace of Aces,” Superchunk’s “What a Time to Be Alive,” The Messthetics’ “The Inner Ocean,” Fucked Up’s “Normal People.” I don’t know that I can qualify why none of the records those songs were on made the list below, or why I connected with those records in times of existential crisis. (Though, were I to give it some good, critical though, Monae’s Dirty Computer would probably grade out as the best of the year.)

How do we measure out our worst years? What defines them, shapes them? What do we reach for when everything feels bad? What do we reach for when we just need things to get better? The sensitive among us, we to turn art — the gear-minded among us, to music, in particular. But how do we code ourselves to forget, when the music we listened to — the music we connected with the most — brings us back to those places?

If you’re lucky, you get to close that part of yourself off and forget about it. If you’re luckier, you don’t. You recognize those sounds — those emotions — when you hear them again. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to close that part of yourself off and forget about it — but you’ll recognize those sounds when you heard it again. You just need to realize that you were lucky enough to have heard them in the first place.

So here are eleven records released in 2018 that I listened to that I enjoyed more than the other ones I listened to that were released in 2018. These are the records that provided some small comfort, and that will reinforce, in the years to come, that bad years look better when they’re gone. We hope.

Rafiq Bhatia, Breaking English [Anti-]

The Body, I Have Fought Against It, But I Can’t Any Longer [Thrill Jockey]

Khruangbin, Con Todo El Mundo [Dead Oceans]

Julian Lage, Modern Lore [Mack Avenue]

Low, Double Negative [Sub Pop]

Makaya McCraven, Universal Beings [International Anthem]

Mount Eerie, Now Only [P.W. Elverum & Sons]

Ohmme, Parts [Joyful Noise]

Miles Okazaki, Work [self-released]

Tangents, New Bodies [Temporary Residence Limited]

Ryley Walker, Deafman Glance [Dead Oceans]

Patrick Wall is an infrequent contributor to Pedal Fuzz. Sometimes, people pay him to write things. He used to live in North Carolina; he currently lives in Massachusetts. The record he actually listened to the most this year? Psychic Temple’s Plays Music for Airports.

Tom Sowders

This year I listened to a lot of music that did not come out recently. BUT. I did have some favorites in 2018.

Eric Bachman - No Recover

The National - Cherry Tree Vol. 1

The National - Boxer Live in Brussels

Big Red Machine - S/T

Cat Power - Wanderer

The Love Language - Baby Grand

Shopping - The Official Body

Waxahatchee - Great Thunder

Speedy Ortiz - Twerp Verse

Surfbort - Friendship Music

Lee Wallace

To make this as absolutely accurate as possible and to allow for any sudden last minute submissions, I am writing this at 8pm on New Year's Eve.

My best of 2018:

Guided By Voices - Space Gun (Rockathon Records). This has already become one of my touch stone GBV albums, in roughly the same status as Mag Earwhig! or Class Clown Spots a UFO or even Vampire on Titus. Fifteen concise psych pop rockers, not a micro second wasted.

Adrian Legg - Live (self release). Adrian is surely one of the two or three best finger style guitarists on this planet, and for nearly forty years he has been traveling and performing solo gigs at house concerts, coffee bars, pubs and anywhere ears will listen. As wonderful as his playing and composing can be, his arduous fans know that his eloquent, story like song introductions are half of the appeal of seeing him in person. This is perhaps the first time that Legg has released a live album with these stories intact. His ruminations lately have concerned greed, materialism, racism, and the destruction of the environment, all from the perspective of a sagely septaugenarian that has traveled the world many times over, but they are as beautiful as his delicate, astounding guitar playing.

Julia Holter - Aviary (Domino Recording Co.). Holter's third album takes an extraordinary leap from the intelligent chamber pop of her previous work to spooky, other worldly avantgarde. Since so many music reviewers tend to make lazy comparisons to Kate Bush when writing about Holter, imagine if “Lionheart” had jumped straight ahead to “The Dreaming” with 21st century technology. Batshit arrangements and sonic freakouts, lysergic orchestral pile ups that come from outer space, on first listen it all sounds like a mess in places, but hang in there, your brain will thank you.

Janelle Monae - Dirty Computer (Atlantic). Composer/singer/dancer/actress/ time travel enthusiast Monae can be high on concept sometimes but she is even higher on melody, groove and astoundingly great vocal performances. I haven't yet taken the time to dissect what all of this “means” in terms of her commentary about contemporary society and what not, but it sure sounds superb. I suspect that she isn't even close to her peak yet, either.

Lilac Shadows - Brutalism (Diggup Tapes). This Durham, NC quartet has apparently done cassettes and digi downloads before but this is on a bona fide high quality vinyl LP in beautiful packaging. Flavors of “Movement”-era New Order and classic 4AD make this music nerd proud to share some geographical proximity with them. Excellent live band too.

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vickisventures · 4 years ago

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Welcome Home

Here we are, in sunny Arizona. It was a long trip from North Dakota, but we enjoyed (in part) our short stop in Amarillo. The weather wasn’t wanting to cooperate there and the odd winter storm tried to mess up our plans but luckily we were able to see our doctors, visit a few friends and get a little rest before finishing up our trip to Mesa, AZ. Steve noticed we had a slow leak in one of the RV tires so we decided it would be easiest if we drove to a Discount Tire and let them check it out before we went to the resort and parked for the next 5 ½ months. We had picked up a nail somewhere along the way and once we got that fixed, we were on our way. We got to Mesa Regal RV Resort a little later than we’d hoped due to the tire stop but once here, we were directed to our site. The guide kindly offered to come back later and give us a quick tour around the resort, so we accepted. He showed us the most important spots and gave us some general information about the resort which was very helpful. After that, we continued to get set up. We had hoped to go to Brian and Sue’s for some Halloween chili (their tradition) but we didn’t get finished until around 4pm and the 2 hour time difference was wiping us out so we decided to stay home. The weather has been around 15 degrees hotter than normal until yesterday and then it dropped to the mid 60’s to low 70’s. MUCH better! We had to spend one afternoon though putting up reflective window insulation in all of the windows to help keep it cooler in the RV. It looked so gloomy inside though because there wasn’t any natural light coming in. I’m grateful for the cooler temps now that allows me to take down some of the window insulation and let the light in!

I was supposed to start work on Monday but when I got here, I found out that they were doing upgrades on the computer and phone systems in the offices so they would be closed on Monday. Instead I would start on Tuesday and would have to work 5 hour days to make up for Monday. This job will be different than the others because I get paid for all hours worked BUT I have to turn around and pay for our site and electric. In the past, we didn’t get paid, but the site was free and the electric was either free or partially paid for. Here, they arrange for your hours/pay to cover the cost of the site and hopefully, electric. We don’t get a discounted rate either...we pay exactly what everyone else pays. That’s a shame in my opinion especially the rates go up in January and I have to work an extra hour a day to make the money to cover our site and it’s quite expensive here due to all of the amenities/activities. A lot of workampers do not like Cal-Am resorts for that reason. I will hold back my judgement on whether it’s a rip-off or not until I have worked more of the season.

Tuesday, I went in to work at 11am. I was supposed to work 10-2 but so far, they don’t seem to want to hold to that schedule. I know some of that has to do with the virus. Their volunteer staff wasn’t allowed to come in and they were told they had to hire workampers instead and for whatever reason, they are shorthanded. This week I go in a few days at 11 and a few at noon. I’m not thrilled about that but as long as I’m off by 4pm, I’m not going to say anything. An 11am start allows me to get to the gym every morning before having to get ready for work. I have a different colored shirt for each day of the week...Monday is my pink shirt, Tuesday is my blue shirt and so on. I feel like I’m in school though because we were told our shorts had to reach our knees and we can only wear khaki, navy or black bottoms. I’m still not sure what I think of the activity director and her assistant (essentially my bosses). They are a little intimidating which is a shame since I’m really just a volunteer. Since COVID has kept the resort from having big events like concerts and dances, there’s not a lot of tickets sales going on. The box office window isn’t open. They are trying to get people to go online and buy their tickets. Not meaning to offend anyone but since there are a lot of older people here, the online thing is not going over too well. Instead they will call me and ask me to get their tickets instead, which I do. I try to convince them to let me help get them set up online so they can get tickets on their own but most just politely say, “Next time.” Yah, right!

Most events are free right now. Fitness classes usually cost $5 to attend but they are free this year. The veteran’s events this week are free also but not as elaborate as they usually are since large crowds are not allowed indoors. So, this virus has changed a lot of things here. So far, I have been helping do odd jobs to help out the activities department. I like that because I never know what they will ask me to do and I’m not just sitting at a desk for 4 hours waiting for the phone to ring.

Steve had a week to get some things done around the RV and to do paperwork needed by the trucking company. He had to go get a DOT physical and drug test as well. It was good that he had a “free” week. He starts his refresher course tomorrow (Monday) at 5:45am. He is supposed to report for 1-1 1/2 weeks. He has a lot of questions about what this course will look like and hopefully, he’ll get most of them answered tomorrow. We really don’t know what this is all going to look like and that brings some anxiety on both our parts. I am anxious about being left for weeks to fend for myself: taking care of the dog, cleaning, working 5 days/week, dumping the tanks, driving the honking big truck if I need to go somewhere, etc. I know I was single for a lot of years and can handle it; I just don’t want to! I know it’s temporary, but I never wanted to do this RV lifestyle alone. It just makes me nervous. Steve, on the other hand, is questioning whether he’s doing the right thing. He doesn’t want to leave me and he’s anxious about going back into the trucking business. His short stint in North Dakota helped but there’s a lot more to this job than what he had to do there. We’ll give it a shot and see how it goes. Thankfully, we have God to watch over us and I’m trying to give him the control as well.

#workamping #full time rving

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seven-oomen · 4 years ago

Text

Okay, this probably won’t be that long, because I have an early shift in the morning, and really should probably already be in bed. But, I am very glad to hear from you again, even if things are shitty right now. Also, omg, again, you are not a dick for focusing on your mental health for a while. I figured there was a good chance that was part of what was going on. I have multiple friends who have pulled back from various social media, because shit is just really fucked up right now, and most people are having trouble dealing, without any extra issues on top of it.

I’m really sorry about your therapists, and hope you can either find some equally helpful new ones, or maybe follow your old ones if they end up somewhere else? Would having official diagnoses possibly help make your old employer more cooperative about the unemployment stuff? And that sucks about the whole reducing how much welfare you get if people help you thing. The US has similar stupid issues with some of their programs. I have a friend on disability that has to be careful how much child support she gets from her ex at a time because if she has too much in savings she could lose her disability. Which is ridiculous on so many levels, but hey, what else would I expect from this country at this point?

Things at work/in my city have somewhat settled down at this point. Protests are still happening, and the cops are still being assholes, but slightly less so than before. Things aren’t not good necessarily, but they’re better. And while I still have to fight the urge to throw elbows with customers who can’t understand proper social distancing, work has been okay on that front at least. My schedule has been all over the place due to various people on vacation/medical leave, but thankfully nothing covid related.

Speaking of vacations, I did finally get a few days off, even though I did not get as much done as I’d hoped. I did get at least a few items checked off my list however, so that’s something. The most entertaining part was after I finally cleaned out my “bar cabinet” as such, and tossed all the old and/or opened liqueurs left by past roommates and guests that hadn’t been touched, in some cases, in years. I didn’t toss everything, but it was a pretty fair amount, and as I was taking out my recycling afterwards I just kept praying I wouldn’t run into any neighbors lest they decide to stage an intervention (so…many…empty…bottles…)

I’m trying to get into the holiday spirit this year, but between (probable) executive dysfunction and rollercoastering anxiety, it’s been sporadic at best. I added some more songs to the Halloween mix on my computer, so now it’s nearly 10 hours of music, so I’ve been playing it to try and help. I have a decent amount of decorations up now, and I caved and bought two frankly huge pumpkins at the grocery the other day that I now have to figure out what to do with. One of my friends is trying to arrange a spooky gift exchange since we can’t have any of the parties we normally would, so we’ll see how that goes.

And I will definitely get that story dug back out and give it a going over as soon as I have a free day. I think it was pretty much done, but it’s been a little bit since I looked at it because I’ve been trying to get further in my current WIP (I need to listen to that “Just write the scene” post, because that’s one of my main issues right now, thinking of scenes for later and getting irritated because I’m not that far in the plot yet.) And I very much still love that universe, and think of those assholes fairly often.

Holy crud, it’s later than I realized. To sum up, I’m very glad that you’re still here, and if getting through stuff requires the occasional tumblr sabbatical, that is absolutely okay. Take care of you first. And if you want to email me, you can, that’s an older email address, but I do still check it sometimes. Be warned, however, that I am pretty much fuckall useless for any helpful advice. My main skill is to be awkwardly yet earnestly encouraging while having no real clue what to say. But I’m here. And on a related note, I continue to be awed and impressed at the way you refuse to let any of this stop you, and keep pushing through despite everything, even if it doesn’t feel that way from your side of the view. (I hope that made sense. Like I said, not so great with the practical advice/support, but I assure you the sentiment it there.) I’m glad you’re doing the best you can, and that Mo is doing okay (I didn’t know he’d been having issues, poor kitty!) Sending all the hope and positive energy (to both of you!) *Hugs!*

Nah but I feel like a dick for not saying anything or responding to anyone on here and I feel like a dick for worrying people. And for that, I do owe you an apology.

(I also recognize that this is probably one of these things that was hammered into me and is a residual thing I still do. I apologize for everything.)

And honestly, it’s really appreciated. It really doesn’t feel like it no, but the logical part of me does agree with you on that one. And I’m really glad you’re still around <3

Mo’s doing okay despite his arthosis, he was limping a little last week but the new food seems to be working and it’s slowly easing again. He seems to be a lot happier now.

Ooh, Spooky gift exchange sounds like a blast though! I was going to go ghost hunting but one of my friends has COVID at the moment and we’re going into a second intelligent lock down over here.

(You’d think the Dutch would be better at social distancing and wearing masks... but- yeah, more and more people seem to be doing the typical annoying Dutch habit of me me me and fuck everybody else and I’m not going to be controlled by my government and wear a muzzle. And yeah, we have a semi-curfew now and Germany has already decided to close its border to us.)

So I definitely get how it might feel for you guys and I’m really sorry people are being dicks to you. If I could slap them I would. <3

I’m glad you got to take a few days off though, sounds like it was really something you needed and I’m happy you got to tick some boxes.

Also this is the funniest thing I’ve read all day:

The most entertaining part was after I finally cleaned out my “bar cabinet” as such, and tossed all the old and/or opened liqueurs left by past roommates and guests that hadn’t been touched, in some cases, in years. I didn’t toss everything, but it was a pretty fair amount, and as I was taking out my recycling afterwards I just kept praying I wouldn’t run into any neighbors lest they decide to stage an intervention (so…many…empty…bottles…)

Cause it kinda gives me the image of Noah doing that when he’s clearing out his own house to prepare for the move to the Hale house. And he clears out some of the old bottles of alcohol. And my brain keeps supplying the image where his family catches him in the act and stages an intervention for him.

Idk why that’s so funny to me.

Glad your neighbours didn’t catch you though XD.

It is kinda late over here too so I’mma head in and catch some zzzz’s. Hope your day went well!

#ben says stuff #my convos with anon #B #submission

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smoakmonster · 7 years ago

Text

C is for Complications

Prompt: Sent to the Wrong Printer A/N: I originally aimed for this to be funny, but the muse had other ideas. Set in between 2x06 and 2x07. Enjoy! Word Count: 2.7k Tagging: @thebookjumper, @olicityhiatusficathon, @scu11y22, @mel-loves-all, @dust2dust34, @releaseurinhibitions Also available: on AO3.

xxx

I love you.

The words had been rattling around inside her all morning, really ever since they had gotten back from Russia, ever since she’d told him. You deserve better than her. You deserve better. You deserve...to be with me?

Felicity shook her head, as she attempted to focus on the swarm of emails currently cluttering her inbox.

Mr. Queen needs to read the updated proposal. I have attached a copy to this email...

Since Mr. Queen could not be bothered to attend our last three meetings...

Please inform Mr. Queen that as CEO he is responsible for…

Felicity puffed out her cheeks in attempt to relax herself, as she swiftly typed a response to all the emails labeled “URGENT.” And she’d thought hacking into the FBI had been stressful.

She did glean a small amount of pride, though, in being the sort of gatekeeper to the CEO. She was protecting him, just like she protected him every night that he was on the streets, sending warnings about what lay ahead, deterring unwelcome complications, like street cameras recording him taking his hood off in a well-lit alley or the timestamp similarities between Oliver Queen leaving a scene and The Arrow arriving.

If only she could deter other, emotional complications so easily.

As degrading as it still was, playing secretary by day, never before had she been so grateful for boring office work as she was today. Answering trivial complaints and scheduling an unnecessary amount of meetings that Oliver was “required” to attend kept her busy, kept her mind distracted from the way her heart pinched strangely every time she paused long enough to remember standing outside Oliver’s hotel room...and watching Isabel Rochev saunter out of it.

Felicity wasn’t blind. She knew Oliver’s reputation. She’d seen it firsthand with Helena and Laurel and...and now with Isabel.

But that was before. Before she started working with him. Before he became her friend. Before he became...something more.

When exactly had she let herself care about Oliver Queen so much? When had he become so important?

And yet, somehow, she was pretty sure she’d known for a long time that what she felt for Oliver was too much, so far beyond too much. And that weird, nervous thrill that fluttered inside her chest whenever she remained in Oliver’s presence was specific to Oliver himself. He’d tried all his usual playboy antics on her at the beginning; and even though she’d seen right through them, they’d still sort of...worked?

Because the man she’d gotten to know over the past year was different than anyone she’d ever met. He was better than he pretended to be. He was real. There was so much depth and goodness and honor in his soul that he kept hidden from the world, from his family...even from himself.

And she didn’t understand why.

Oliver Queen was the biggest mystery of her life, and she both loved and hated him for it.

Love.

Oh, that dreaded word again.

Did she really...love him though? She couldn’t afford to. After all, he’d said so himself, caring about someone given what they do every night...it could only bring more pain. She’d already lost so much, her father and Cooper and now….

Felicity swallowed.

Now it was too late.

She cared about him too much to let go now.

That was why she’d stayed, even after they’d found Walter, wasn’t it? The mission was important, but so was he. He was important, but so was the mission. Over and over, every night, she wrestled with her priorities, with his stubborn and reckless behavior, with her inapt and unreturned feelings for him. Sometimes, it was like her mind and heart were at war with one another, like she was the one living a double life. And yet other times, when he’d pause and rest his hand on her shoulder like that, so gently and still so surely, and he’d look at her with such a softness, like his eyes were calling out to her to save him from...something. Himself? She wanted to know the secrets he only told her in stares.

His gaze often left her jarred...and left her craving more.

Her shoulder always felt so cold when he finally had to pull his hand away.

Since the day she’d found him bleeding in the backseat of her car, Felicity knew that what she felt for Oliver Queen--what she continued to torture herself by feeling for him--went so far beyond admiration or friendship.

Oliver was never just the cute, rich castaway who pestered her occasionally with petty, life-changing requests and lied to her face with a charming smile plastered to his own. Somewhere along the way, she’d started needing him, too.

I love you.

Those words rushed through her when The Glades came crumbling down around them.

I love you.

Those words ricocheted inside her chest as Oliver’s warm body smacked against hers, pressing her deeper into the Lian Yu grass, after so many months of not seeing him, of not knowing if he was okay.

I love you.

Those words gutted her to the core as she turned and walked away from him at a hotel in Russia, bitterly muttering “even when it makes no sense whatsoever.”

It still didn’t make sense. And she was still bitter.

And she still loved him.

There. She’d finally indulged herself in not only thinking the words but in allowing herself to linger in them, to let them fill her, to let them hurt her.

Since last year, Felicity had been trying to avoid, deny, or explain away her feelings for Oliver. And now, finally putting a name to it was alarming and yet...soothing in a way she couldn’t explain. It was terrifying and freeing. It was exhilarating and exhausting.

Because he would never feel the same way.

Too bad she couldn’t just write a code to undo everything.

Like getting zapped with a spark of electricity, an idea suddenly came to Felicity. And since she was indulging her thoughts...she might as well go all in.

Pulling up a new blank document, Felicity stared at the empty white page, watching the vertical cursor blink at her over and over, nagging her, taunting her.

Finally, she gave in.

She had to do it. Just once. Just to tell someone, even if that someone was her computer.

Before she could stop herself, Felicity hit eleven keys, typing out three words.

I love him.

There. That wasn’t so hard.

Felicity jumped when the phone at her desk suddenly rang, and she answered it promptly. While speaking with the head of HR department, Felicity quickly minimized the document on her screen and ignored it for the rest of the morning.

Shortly after lunch, while Oliver was still out of the office with Thea visiting his mother, Felicity dared to open up that document once again and stare at those three aching words.

It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t personal enough.

Felicity hit the backspace key three times and tried again.

I love you.

Gnawing on the inside of her cheek, still unsatisfied, Felicity typed out the final five and most important letters, the letters that, for better or worse, remained etched on her heart.

Oliver.

With a little nod to herself for a job well done, Felicity hit “print” and started making her way over to the sleek and overpriced printer in the corner--

“Felicity!”

She froze at the sound of his voice. Feeling guilty and caught off guard and flustered beyond measure, Felicity took a moment to try to compose herself before turning around and staring the source of her current emotional dilemma right in the face.

“What!” Her voice sounded more like cry for help than a question, so she tried again, clearing her throat. “What?”

Oliver frowned, clearly picking up that something was not quite right with her today. He didn’t know, right? He couldn’t know. How could he know?

Ridiculous man, why did he always have be so observant at the worst times?

“Meeting. Conference room.”

Right.

She sighed once with relief as she followed him directly into the conference, like the obedient assistant that she was.

Well, if Oliver remembering a meeting time on his own didn’t show her how off her game she was today, then she didn’t know what would. Thankfully, he was too busy to ask what was actually bothering her. Still, Felicity’s heart decided to badger her for the next two hours. She could barely pay attention to her notes in the beginning. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. She chanted the words like a mantra, keeping rhythm with her pen tapping against her notepad.

But by the time their meeting ended, it was nearly sunset, and the first wave of crime in the city had already begun. Felicity never made it back to check her printer until the next day, and by then The Count had broken out of prison.

xxx

“Oliver, what are we doing here?”

“I just need to grab something.”

Oliver led Felicity through the long aisles of the evidence warehouse, stacked to the brim with boxes and old files. He’d been here before, though under less pleasant circumstances.

“Are you sure we’re even allowed to be in here?” Felicity whispered. “I mean, as us...not, you know, the other us.”

“Well, Lance was able to pull few strings and said that it would be alright,” said Oliver. “We just can’t touch anything other than what I came here for.”

Felicity stopped in her tracks and pouted her lips in that adorably alluring way of hers. “I think you might be abusing your power there, Mr. Mayor.”

“Promise not to tell my secret?” He winked at her, taking a moment to run his thumb once more over the new ring on her finger, nestled against the one with the diamond. He still hadn’t gotten used to that cool, smooth, perfect texture against her skin. He doubted he ever would get used to it...to them.

“Only if you promise to finally clue me in on why we’re hanging out in a dusty evidence warehouse in the first place. Not that I don’t appreciate the lighting aesthetic, but I think if we stay here too long my allergies are going to start flaring up.”

“Well, I can’t tell you. I have to show you.”

Oliver smiled as he pulled her along a little further, down a few more rows, following the path Lance had instructed, until finally they came to the item he’d been seeking. He could tell when she spotted it, because she let out a small “oh” at the sight.

His old trunk.

Releasing her hand, Oliver quickly worked to undo the lock and lifted the lid. His hand stumbled against various items inside until it finally rested on another small box tucked into the corner of the trunk, exactly where he’d left it years ago.

As he pulled out the small box, Felicity gave him a skeptical look. “Please don’t tell me we came here just so you can grab some magical island herbs.”

He chuckled, opening the little container and finding a folded piece of paper inside.

She frowned in amusement as she watched him begin unfolding the paper before her eyes.

“A secret message from your family?”

“Something like that,” he answered.

Taking a deep breath and keeping his gaze fixed on her, Oliver slowly turned the paper around and waited...waited until Felicity spotted the familiar words on the page.

I love you, Oliver.

She stilled when she saw them.

“You know what this is.” It wasn’t a question.

“Where did you…? Oliver, I can explain--” She reached to snatch the paper from his grasp, but he quickly moved it out of her reach and patiently folded the note back up like it was the most precious thing to him--and in some, small way it was--before safely tucking the note into his shirt pocket.

“I don't want you to explain.”

Felicity licked her lips, seemingly flustered in a way he hadn’t seen her in a long time, as though this was four years ago and they weren’t married and he hadn’t told her he loved her yet.

“I-I don’t understand. How did you get that?”

“I um…” Now came the tricky part. He needed her to know why he brought her here tonight, why this one piece of paper had been a lifeline for him in the midst of chaos and darkness and...having to walk away from this woman standing before him so many times.

“I found this in the printer in my office, the night The Count almost…” he paused, swallowing heavily, avoiding her eyes. “The night I killed him.” The night I almost lost you.

“Wait, you said you found it in your printer?”

That was not what he was expecting.

Oliver looked up, frowning, confused by her tone.

“All these years, and I sent it to the wrong printer? Granted, I hadn’t exactly been thinking straight at the time, but still. How could you find this and not tell me? Why not just throw it away and put me out of her misery and...ugh, this is embarrassing--”

“What? Why?” He rushed close to her, his hands coming up on their own accord to grab her upper arms near her shoulders, his thumbs running in circles to try to soothe her.

She visibly relaxed under his touch. “I just…I never meant for you to see that. It was supposed to be for me, for my eyes only. It was just something I did to…”

“To what?” he asked.

“To try to let you go. Because I had all these inappropriate feelings--not inappropriate inappropriate, just feelings about my boss that were not returned--”

“That you knew of. That either of us knew of.” Oliver sighed, drawing warmth from her presence as he so often did, drawing strength from the familiar trust he saw plainly on her face. “I suspected that the note was from you, but after just telling you I couldn't be with someone that I could really care about, I just...I didn't know how to tell you I'd found it. And then The Count tried to hurt you, and then Barry Allen showed up and you went away and things got…”

“Complicated?”

“Yeah.”

Felicity offered him a tender smile. “Welcome to my world.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to know or not. And for a while, I didn't...I didn't want it to be you. Every instinct inside me told me not to let you in...not to let myself care about you. Everything I learned on the island, that you can’t trust anyone but yourself, that caring about people gets them killed.... Russia showed me that. The Count showed me that. Slade showed me that.”

“But you still kept it?” she asked softly.

Oliver shook his head, barely understanding why he did it himself. “I guess there was a part of me...a bigger part than I wanted to admit...that wanted this, wanted to be with you, even if I thought that could never happen.”

“Oliver…” Felicity breathed, reaching up to caress his cheek and hold his head in place, keeping him grounded, keeping him whole.

“I just wanted you to know that I knew. And I’m sorry I wasn’t ready...before.”

“Oliver, it’s okay. That’s all in the past. And we made it here, didn’t we?”

He sighed a laugh. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

“And I’m sorry, too.”

Oliver started. “For what?”

“For writing you basically the shortest love letter that ever existed.”

He laughed, his chest feeling suddenly lighter and fuller, as only Felicity could ever seem to bring him. And as he leaned down, she met him halfway, and he kissed his wife deeply, right there in the middle of the abandoned corner of the evidence warehouse, the note that she’d written him ages ago pressed between them, right against his heart, where it belonged.

When they finally broke apart for air, Felicity was smiling as she wrapped both her arms around one of his. But when he started moving, she paused. “You’re just gonna leave it?” She nodded to the trunk.

With one final glance at his past, Oliver nodded firmly, sure of his chosen future, sure of one half of his life standing beside him and the other half hopefully sound asleep by now back home.

“I don’t need it anymore,” he replied. “I have you.”

#ohfat #olicity hiatus fic-a-thon #olicityhiatusfic #olicity #olicity fic #how I love thee: a to z series #my stuff #shelley does fic

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