#need to find myself some decent decaf

[eclecticsophism]

why do i keep getting ideas for new research projects while i'm drowning in my current one???

[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

2. “Hi, you.”

Chapter Warnings: Light smut, references to sex, pregnancy

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*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jimin had gotten out of bed before you, for once. His place on the bed was left a gathering of sheets, cold and crumpled.

After brushing your teeth and hair, you got into a cozy lounge set, and padded out of his bedroom, into the hallway. The sound of running water could be heard from the kitchen, so that's where you headed next.

He was still in his typical sleep attire - boxers and nothing else. His toned back was facing you, giving a view of the moons etched into his skin. He was filling up a pot in the sink to make French-press coffee when he heard your footsteps.

You were greeted with his hoarse, low morning voice, "Hey, you're up."

"Morning," you yawned, "You are up earlier than usual.”

He turned off the tap as you sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, “Yeah, I didn’t sleep well honestly. Kind of hard when you find out your girlfriend’s pregnant.”

“I know, I didn’t sleep the greatest either,” you said prior to realizing, then your cheeks flushed a deep rose, “Wait, girlfriend?”

Jimin turned around and put the pot of water on the stovetop to boil. He was grinning at you handsomely, with hair slightly disheveled, “We hang out, have dinner together, watch movies, have lots of sex, and we love each other enough to have a kid together. I’d say we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now, if you’d like to be.”

You smiled back, “I suppose that’s reasonable.”

He rounded the corner of the grey marble top of the island, aiming straight for your lips. His kiss was short and sweet, exactly the kind you had grown accustomed to when it came to Saturday mornings with him.

“Would you like some coffee?” He asked before pecking your cheek.

You wrinkled your nose, “I’d love some, but unfortunately I probably should stick to decaf now.”

He pursed his plump lips together and hummed, “Oh shit, that’s right. Are you hungry at least? I can make the eggs you like.”

“Over easy?” you shook your head and laughed, “I don’t think I can have those either. They’re too raw.”

Jimin chuckled, bowing his head in defeat, “Scrambled then.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded and happily returned to the stove, getting out a pan and setting it on one of the burners. As he opened the fridge to get out a carton of eggs, he glanced back at you through slightly puffy eyes, “So aside from not being able to have your normal breakfast, is there anything else different?”

You propped your chin up in the palm of your hand, “You mean the symptoms? Well, it’s been kind of mild, to be honest. The only symptoms I’ve had so far are sore boobs and a little bit of spotting. Actually, now that I think about it, I might be sensitive to the smell of kimchi too. But that’s all.”

“I hope it continues to be relatively easy," Jimin cracked a few eggs into the pan, "But I'll be here for you if it gets worse. This reminds me of something important I thought about while you were sleeping - your key."

You tilted your head to one side, "My key?"

"To my apartment," he said, "You have it, but you always knock on the door and wait for me to let you in. From now on, please use it. Let yourself in, whether I'm here or not."

"Are you sure? I don't let myself in because I know how much you value your privacy."

He smirked, whisking the eggs to scramble them, "If I wanted privacy from you, I wouldn't have given you a key in the first place. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I really enjoy your company."

In an attempt to conceal how much of a sucker you were for his little flirtations, you pursed your lips together. Still, it was plain as day when he glanced at you. This flustered yet giddy expression was a habit of yours that he adored.

Jimin turned the heat up slightly on the stove before letting the eggs do their thing, "Besides, I want to be here for anything you need. My biggest fear with this whole thing is not being there like any decent father would be. It will be hard enough with my schedule."

You detected the insecurity on his face, "Don't worry. I promise I'll use the key from now on."

You scooted the stool backwards so you could get up. Then you made your way to the other side of the island, hugging him from behind. Your cheek pressed against his back.

He released a content sigh and twisted himself to face you, enveloping you in his chest instead. His lips kissed the top of your head, "It's interesting. I feel like one moment, it's really hitting me, and the next, it doesn't feel real."

"I know," your voice was slightly muffled against his skin, "I can't believe I'm going to be a mom."

Jimin had recollections of you playing with the kids of your coworker. He knew you had a loving, natural touch with children, "I've seen you with Chaeyoung's twins. You'll be an amazing mother."

You didn't know if you believed him with such immense pressures staring you down, but you smiled anyway, "And I've seen you with the managers' kids. I think you'll be an outstanding father."

He laughed a little nervously, "It feels so absurd applying the word 'father' to myself."

"But we'll get each other through it," you muttered, "Because we love each other, right?"

He smiled again, closing his eyes and cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms, "Exactly."

Both of you heard a little sizzle coming from the pan on the stove. Jimin chuckled, “I’d love to stay like this, but I don’t want to serve you burnt eggs.”

Eating breakfast that morning was slowed by both of your needs to talk this through some more. He had to leave for another recording session at noon, but there was still time to discuss some of the general things.

You told him about what your care provider told you, “Apparently, the best time for me to get an ultrasound is in the next couple of weeks. I’m assuming Doctor Baek will be able to give me a list of recommendations for obstetricians. I guess you wouldn’t be able to go…would you?”

“I hate to say it but I don’t know,” he said with his hands on his thighs, “We are due in Tokyo next week and will be there for eight days, doing various promotions and the Vogue shoot. This is going to be one of the biggest issues throughout this whole thing. Some things are easy to get out of, but others won’t budge. And even if I could make it to an appointment, how would I be able to explain my presence there?”

You don't know how you could have forgotten about the Tokyo trip. Sometimes, you attended trips like this, but a photoshoot as big as Vogue didn't require your assistance. They had quite a few of their own people for styling.

“That’s right,” you huffed in a slouch, “The doctors are legally prohibited from saying anything, but there’s no way we’d be able to avoid other patients and staff seeing you and talking.”

He swallowed a bite of food, nodding along, "It might be a stretch, but if we can get the ultrasound for this coming week, we can have the doctor come here. As you know, I leave my Friday evenings free when I'm in town."

"Here? You're comfortable with that?"

"Not entirely," he admitted, "But like you said, they can't say anything without risking losing their license. It makes sense for the sake of privacy, and it would allow us to squeeze it in between all of my commitments."

"That sounds nice, but I’m going to be swamped at work this week. We’re putting together your styling concept for the tour next year. Maybe we could find time after you get back from Japan.”

Jimin became more serious and put his hand on your knee, eyes firm, "Y/N, as much as I want to be there, let's not ignore the advice of the professionals. If it's better to get a read on you and the baby sooner rather than later, then don't wait for me.”

It was disheartening, but it was something you’d have to get used to. You wanted to do this, but it little about it would be normal. You had to make peace with that.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I’ll call today and see what’s available.”

He leaned forward to kiss your temple, “I’ll be excited to hear all about it, baby.”

You smiled at his touch, “Well that’s that. Now onto an even more pressing matter…”

He finished what was on his plate and took another sip of his coffee, “Which is?”

“Who are we going to tell about this?” You asked with raised brows, “Obviously no one at the company can know, at least not yet.”

“I’ll have to tell the guys at some point before you start showing, or they will figure it out on their own. And I know they would keep the secret for as long as we asked them to.”

You already felt mortified with that, but again, you had to get used to the awkwardness, “Alright. What about our parents?”

A twinge of guilt rang through him, like a child who was about to get a scolding. Jimin took his empty dished and got up to put them in the dishwasher, mumbling a cuss or two.

He said under his breath, “My parents would definitely come around, but they’ll also want to kill me.”

“Do they…know about us?”

The dishes clanked in the washer as he shuffled some things around, making room for the new ones, “I’ve told them I’ve been seeing someone and that things have been getting more serious. But they’d never see this coming. What about your parents?”

Your features sank, “They’d probably want to kill you too, no offense. I don’t think they’d be thrilled with the idea of their daughter having a baby with a popstar out of wedlock. It’s, uh…kind of a negative trope.”

“I get it,” Jimin then came over and took your dishes away for you, “Have you told them about us?”

You wanted to shrivel up and hide somewhere, “Not exactly…”

He was taken aback, “Really? Not a single thing?”

You sat on your hands and shrugged, “They’re as traditional as it gets, Jimin. They wouldn’t react kindly to me sleeping with you. They don’t even agree with the career I chose. Honestly, I don’t really speak with or see them that often. They live on the other side of the country.”

He could have been offended by the idea of your parents’ disapproval of him, but he wasn’t. Instead, he grinned, “Then I guess we have our work cut out for us.”

You half laughed, though you were more apprehensive than amused, “We certainly do.”

Jimin was the last to join the recording session. It wasn’t a big deal - the others started without him, taking turns in the booth.

When he entered the recording room, Jungkook was in the booth with headphones on, singing the lines in front of him. Yoongi and another producer were sitting at the panel, while all the others were either sitting on the couch or bean bags.

“There he is!” Hoseok called out with his classic mile-wide smile.

Taehyung covered his mouth, chuckling, “You look exhausted, hyung. Late night?”

Just because the work had begun didn’t mean he could escape a little teasing. It was normally alright with him. After all, they all knew about the affair, but his patience would be thinner than normal today. He was running on little sleep and just had his world shaken.

He faked a short laugh, but it didn’t travel all the way to his eyes, “Yeah, late night.”

Namjoon made room on the couch and he sat back onto the plush leather, letting his head lean all the way back. The leader and the others were glancing at one another with confused looks on their faces. It was typical for Jimin to be the last one to arrive, but once he showed up, he was in work mode. Right now, he looked somewhat out of it.

“Woah,” Jin said, “Must have been a really late night.”

The session lasted hours. Much to their surprise, Jimin never seemed to get into the groove. He recorded his parts well, but the intense focus was simply absent.

Jungkook, who had been with him the day before, already had a suspicion that this was about you.

Not only was this their brother who they passionately cared for, but they also had an important trip coming up. They needed to figure out what was going on.

When it was time to wrap up, the six members waited for the other producer to leave the room. It was only after that could they mention you by name. After all the years together, it was like they developed a form of telepathy. Something was up with their friend, and they moved in-sync to fix it.

Jimin was puzzled as to why no one was grabbing their things to leave.

Once they were isolated as a group of seven, Namjoon started the conversation from his same spot on the couch, “Let’s stay for a few minutes to talk about whatever’s going on.”

He knew it was about him, “I’m alright, guys. Really. Just exhausted.”

“Are you positive? Because you don’t just seem tired. You look withdrawn.” Jin said.

Trying to play it off coolly, he smirked, “That can happen when one gets tired.”

“Jimin, come on. It’s us,” Hoseok urged, “We just want to make sure you’re all good.”

“I am.” He gave the persuasion another go.

But it was to no avail. Jungkook spoke up next, leaning with his back against the wall, “I’m sorry, hyung, but I have to wonder if this is about that thing with Y/N yesterday.”

“What thing?” inquired Yoongi.

The youngest of the group looked to the man in question to give him a chance to respond, but when Jimin had nothing to say, he continued, “I was with him when we ran into her on our way back from the shoot. Their exchange was kind of weird and timid. Something between them was off.”

The others could definitely see how that would be strange. They’d all witnessed the two of you interact before, and it was always great. You gelled together so well, so effortlessly.

“Oh,” Taehyung took a much more sympathetic approach this time, “Are you guys going through a rough patch?”

He would have panicked that someone had heard that, but he watched the producer leave with his own eyes. It was all clear, “No. As I said to Jungkook yesterday, we are perfectly fine.”

They weren’t buying it. Their disbelieving faces made that painfully clear, but he couldn’t tell them the truth yet. Both of you would need some time to let this sink in and plan some things out. Still, he had to give them something, just to get them off his back.

Jimin sighed, “Okay, fine. I was going to tell you all when it felt like a good time and place, but something has changed between us. Recently, Y/N and I decided that we are going to start taking our relationship more seriously.”

“Soooo, what?” Jin asked, “You’re finally going to call yourselves a couple?”

“Yeah...I also told her I love her.”

Some of the guys hooted, others sighed out of pure relief. They thought this day would never come.

Yoongi chuckled, “That’s wonderful and all, Jiminie, but we all fucking knew it for months.”

“About time,” Taehyung beamed, “So she’s officially a girlfriend?”

Begrudgingly, knowing it would cause another mass tease, Jimin nodded, “Yes, she’s my girlfriend.”

Hoseok smirked, “So you’re exhausted because you’ve been pulling out all the stops, huh? Nice.”

“And he’s not focused because he’s got love on the brain.” Jungkook messed with his hair a bit. Jimin quickly brushed it back into place, rolling his eyes with a soft grin.

Oh, if only they knew what was actually on his brain at the moment, he thought. But it didn’t matter. He did what he needed to do for the time being. Now all he had to do was keep up the facade for a few more weeks, or until you and him mutually decided it was the right time.

All but one began to get their things together in preparation to leave. Namjoon felt another point needed to be made on this topic, but decided to let it go for now. It was getting close to dinnertime and they had made plans to order in at Jin's place. He would bring it up there.

Jin's apartment was so home-like and comfortable, which was why it was a common hangout spot for the group on nights like this. There was a feast of food in front of them to share and fill their stomachs. The soju was flowing, warming them up and loosening some tongues.

Jimin, for one, appreciated some semblance of normal life with his friends. He tried not to dwell on it, but he realized that being a part of nights like this would likely become a scarcity once he had fatherly duties to perform. His career would have to change, but now he was confronted with the possibility, or inevitability, of his friendships changing.

Hoseok, who was sitting next to Jimin, gave him a fraternal arm around his shoulder, tugging him closer, "Hey, now that you and Y/N are official, she should come around us more often. She could spend some time with Yunhee too."

Yunhee was his longtime girlfriend, and by no means the only serious romantic partner in the group. Namjoon and Jin were in relationships as well. It could be good for you to get to know the other women who were dating members of BTS, if anything for the moral support side of it all.

The head of the group heard Hoseok's suggestion and it resurfaced his concern from earlier. His head perked up, thinking now was the right moment. Namjoon consumed another sip of soju first.

"I don't know if that's the best idea, Hobi."

The other conversations at the table simmered down. He didn't intend to get everyone's attention, but there was nothing to do about it now, "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy for you, Jimin. Y/N is a nice person and all, but let's not forget where she's employed."

"So what?" Hoseok's brows were furrowed, "She can't hang out with us or our girlfriends because she's a stylist?"

"Well...yeah," Namjoon sighed. It didn't feel good to administer this dose of reality, "At least not in larger social settings."

"That's a little much." Jungkook remarked.

"No, he's right," Taehyung said, "I think we all trust ourselves and the other girlfriends to keep it quiet, but no one else can know. I don't know what repercussions they would have for you, Jimin, but Y/N would get fired."

"Exactly, thank you Tae," the leader nodded, "It sucks, but we can't treat this like we treat the other relationships. None of us want to see her lose her job over this. That means she can't be invited to parties, or given any special consideration when we run into her at the studio. We have to keep doing what we've always done."

Naturally, eyes began to land on Jimin, who was sitting there quietly until he noticed. He shook his head and swallowed the cut of pork that was in his mouth, "Look, Y/N and I are adults. We know what it means for us if we want to be together. Maybe someday, if things keep getting more serious, we can try to work around the company. But for now, we've talked about it and we can live with it."

There was a short hush at the table, as if everyone was expecting him to make some kind of protest against the notion of continued secrecy. Jimin began to think about what Hoseok said initially. Knowing what he knew, he thought it would be a good idea for those closest to him to get to know you better.

He added, "I do think it would be nice for you guys to spend more time with her, though."

"Sounds good to me," Jungkook grinned, stretching his arms up behind his head, "Besides, I'd like to know the inside scoop on how they plan on dressing me for the tour. Pick her brain a little."

Jimin chuckled, "I think they are in the very beginning stages of that, but go for it."

Namjoon was glad that there was a general agreement among the members. However, if he was honest with himself, his concern wasn't just with outside people having raised suspicions - you were in question too. Plenty of women chased fame through matters of the heart. What if you were capable of leaking the relationship yourself for a bit of notoriety?

He felt slightly disgusted with himself for thinking it, but his protective side was coming out. It had happened to other idols before. Plus, the fact of the matter was that none of them knew you that well. It couldn't be ruled out.

"Well, at least we don't have to keep pretending behind closed doors." Yoongi laughed.

Jimin looked at him, confused, "With who?"

"With you!" Jin guffawed, "You were so reluctant to put any sort of label on this relationship for so long. And you got annoyed whenever one of us would bring it up, so we've all been acting like we didn't notice the obvious."

"I feel like we do a pretty good job of hiding it," Jimin defended himself, "I don't treat her any differently than the other stylists."

Hoseok nudged him lightly, mouth full of ramyeon, "Yes, but in private, you have a certain face when she comes up in conversation. Seriously, we'll have to hold up a mirror for you next time it happens. Your eyes start darting around the room and your jaw gets really tense, the same thing that happens when you're suppressing any emotion."

He laughed at himself, taking another shot of soju, "Then I'm glad I don't have to embarrass myself anymore."

The evening returned to normal after the guys got bored of teasing their friend. All the while, Jimin felt like an imposter in his own body. He was selling it so well, a happy version of himself.

To some extent, he was happy, but he was also in a state a shock and apprehension. Three emotions swirling about within him, all equally strong and combative. He knew the shock portion of it would fade away soon, but could only hope that the nerves would follow suit.

He felt sturdy in his love for you and the desire to go through with the decision - he only wished that he felt confident that he could be a good, present father. His own dad was always there for him, nurturing and guiding him every step of the way. Jimin felt like he could count on him for anything. Would this child feel the same?

The hang-out ran late, giving him plenty of time to stew internally. Contradictory to past behavior, he was the first to call it a night.

The others started trickling out one by one, back to their own apartments. Being the named leader of the group, Namjoon always found himself being the last one out the door. Though he fell in the middle of the rank when it came to age, he tended to act like the oldest sometimes. Always making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, or, on nights like this, making sure they were all okay to drive home.

A perceptive and sensitive soul, Jin always noticed this and it made him pity Namjoon. He could let loose every now and then - the leader side of him didn't need to be switched on all the time, certainly not when it was just the seven of them in private.

Once the others were all gone, Namjoon let out a breath. He still had to get his charger and light jacket, and then he'd head out too.

Bending over to unplug his charger from the outlet by the baseboard, he said to the host, "Thanks for having us as always, Jin. Sorry it went so late again."

The oldest waved away the compliment, "Never a problem, Joonie. But you do know this is my apartment, right? You don't have to stand here with me and say goodbyes until they're all gone."

Namjoon chuckled and fiddled with the white cord in his hands, whirling it like a propeller, "Yeah, I know. Old habit, I guess."

He then put on his jacket, fixing the collar and tugging it in a few places. The two men locked palms and brought it in for a hug, patting each other on the back with their free hands.

"Well, I'll see you." the leader smiled tiredly.

"Night." replied Jin.

Namjoon approached the door to make his exit, but he couldn't shake this one thing. He paused, "Hyung?"

"Yeah?"

He turned back around and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, "Do you think this whole Y/N thing is good for Jimin?"

The older appeared unpleasantly surprised that he could pose such a question, "Uh, yeah, I do. She seems really sweet and they've been going pretty steady for a long time without an issue. Why?"

"Nothing, I just...nevermind."

"No," Jin stopped him from leaving, "What is it?"

Namjoon pursed his lips together for a moment, "I don't know. All of the potential issues with the company aside, what if she's just chasing his money or fame?"

Jin smirked, "I could maybe wrap my head around the money concern, but fame? They're a secret. There's no fame to be had. Unless you think she'd blab to the press on her own?"

He shrugged, "I mean yeah, it's possible. It wouldn't be the first time a person dated someone famous for some time in the spotlight. Now that they're serious, is it so strange to worry that she might turn around and use Jimin for some time in the spotlight?"

"Actually yes," Jin laughed in disbelief, "Because her job is on the line."

"I'd argue there would be plenty more for her to gain by publicly associating herself with one of the most famous faces on the planet."

The oldest member became more frank, "I have to say I'm surprised at you, Namjoon. It isn't like you to rush to judgment like this, especially of someone you hardly know."

He defended his consternation, "Well, it's the first time one of us has had this type of risky relationship. I just want to make sure Jimin's thought this through. If she-"

"She won't."

"But if she does, what happens? He'd be crushed. We all know that his last breakup tore him apart, and that was done in private. Imagine what it would do to him if she betrayed him like that."

Jin sighed, "Look, I think you're a good friend for wanting to guard his wellbeing, but no one here has been given any reason to think that Y/N would do anything like that. And Jimin is a full-grown man. He's capable of making his own decisions. It doesn't make you any better of a leader to helicopter over his dating life, even if you have doubts."

Namjoon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, nodding. Jin was right. There was nothing to validate his concerns - it was all mere conjecture.

"Okay," he breathed, "You're right. I guess all we can do is stay out of it and see where it goes."

His older brother gave him an exhausted smile and patted his shoulder, "Exactly. Goodnight, Joonie."

Namjoon turned around, nodding his head, "Night."

As he left the apartment, he still had a nervous feeling planted in his intuition. There was just something about this he didn't like.

*One Week Later*

You went to Jimin's place the Saturday morning before he left for Japan. You hadn't been able to make it the night before, buried in work up to your eyeballs. It had been a rough morning for you so far - the infamous morning sickness had arrived throughout the past few days. It was funny they called it that, you thought, because it wasn't relegated to the morning only. So far, however, it was pretty manageable with the help of a vitamin. More often than not, it was a wave of nausea that would hit you without resulting in actual vomiting.

For the first time, you let yourself into the apartment without knocking. Once inside, you saw his duffle bag by the door, all ready to go, but he was nowhere in sight. The blinds were open, however, so you assumed he was awake.

You set your purse down on the entryway table and removed your shoes. As you padded closer to his bedroom, you picked up on the faint sound of the shower running. Entering the bedroom, you saw that the bathroom door was wide open, the space inside becoming slightly steamy.

You couldn't help but smile a bit as you went in. There was a large corner tub in there, but it was empty. Your eyes went instantly to the feast of Jimin's bare frame on full display in the walk-in shower. No curtains, no glass door. Just him.

His back was facing you, unbeknownst to your presence, letting you get a good view of his toned backside - and that included all of his backside. If only you weren't feeling so shitty, you would have been enticed beyond help.

You crossed your arms and cleared your throat.

Jimin didn’t even turn around, only laughed lowly, “Enjoying the show, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “Only a little, and unfortunately I mean that. I feel terrible this morning.”

He turned around, slicking his fully damp hair back out of his face. Eyes containing a devoted concern, he felt an entrenched need to solve the issue, “What’s wrong?”

You sat down on the closed toilet seat and sighed, hands on your knees, “Mainly queasy, a bit fatigued.”

He smiled sympathetically, extending his hand, “Come on.”

You laughed a little, “In there?”

“Nothing sexual, I promise,” he smirked some more, “Seriously, it will help.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and took off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. You trusted that his intentions were nothing but authentic. You caught him ogling your body once or twice, but he kept his urges in-check as you took his hand and stepped into the shower.

The warm water pattered on your skin, already giving way to some relaxation in your stirred stomach.

Jimin wrapped his arms around you from behind, kissing the cartilage of your ear, “I used to get horribly nauseous before big performances and interviews. A warm rinse and some deep breathing always helped me ease up. Just focus on breathing, I’ll take care of the rest.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his caring embrace, “Okay.”

You kept your eyes closed as you inhaled and exhaled slowly, concentrating on the drops of water hitting you like a massage. Even better was the feeling of him washing you with a soapy loofa. There was no scent to whatever body wash he was using - just a soothing, sudsy coating on your skin.

Despite him meaning his promise not to take a lewd approach, Jimin couldn’t help but get a semi as he cleansed you, touching and looking at every inch of you. Your breasts were even more pillowy when they were glistening with shower drops.

“Is it helping?” He asked quietly.

You nodded with a soft grin, “Yes, thank you.”

The applied pressure lessened when he got to your stomach. He glided the wash over this area lightly and lovingly. When you realized how much attention he was giving to this part of you, your eyes opened to find him looking down at your abdomen with a lightness on his features.

You wiped some strands of hair out of his face, sticking them on top of his head with the rest, “What are you thinking about?”

He looked up to meet your gaze, “How nervous yet eager I am to watch your belly grow.”

You cupped one of his cheeks in your palm, “We can be nervous yet eager together then.”

He took a gentle hold of the wrist near his face and kissed your hand, “I really am sorry that I’m going to miss the appointment on Thursday.”

“I am too,” you sighed, “But it’s not going to be helpful to us if we dwell on things we really can’t change at the moment. Our experience will be different. We just have to live with that.”

Jimin hummed and turned you around slowly so that he could hug you from behind once more. His chin nestled on top of your shoulder. As he treated you to a couple of affectionate pecks on the neck, you held his arms.

“I just know there’s some way we can do this without having to be so elusive. There has to be. We can’t keep this a secret from the company and the public forever. Neither of us can live like that.” He said.

You continued to breathe deeply, the sickness subsiding bit by bit, “I hope you’re right.”

The two of you remained comfortably silent in the shower for a little while longer, simply existing with one another. It ended far sooner than you would have liked, but he had a flight to catch and would need to leave for the airport in an hour.

Both of you got dressed again and shared a cuddle in the living room while there was still time.

You enjoyed being encased into him while you could, your nausea almost gone now, “I know it’s only eight days but I’ll miss you.”

He felt the same. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been apart for that long before, but things were radically different now. There was something tying you together now on a much deeper level, “I’ll miss you too. I hope this coming week is easier for you.”

You put on a brave face, “I have feeling this won’t let up for a while. I read that some women have sickness their entire pregnancy. I hope I’m not one of them, but I’ll live either way. My workload will be lighter, so that might help.”

Jimin chuckled, rubbing your thigh absentmindedly, “Are you going to save the hottest wardrobe for me?”

You giggled, “You know the final decision isn’t mine. It will take some time, though. We are still in the elementary phases. Once we have all of the fabrics and color palettes finalized, we will move on to the shopping phase.”

“That sounds so fun,” he lamented, “Getting to pick designer clothing for all of us.”

“It can be fun, but it’s a lot of pressure at times to match the concept perfectly. You’d be surprised how many moving parts there are to simply picking out some outfits for the stage. We also take your personalities into account, to some extent, because you pick your own clothes for most interviews and promotional activities. If the clothes you wear on stage match your real style to some degree, then suddenly the whole thing feels like one giant authentic concept.”

He kissed your temple and laughed, “You’re such a little nerd for your job.”

You pushed into him playfully, “Rude.”

“No, it’s cute, baby,” he went on chuckling, “I love that you’re passionate about it.”

You exhaled into his chest, “I am, and I’ve grown to really like the people in the department too, not just the ones who are assigned to BTS. I guess that's why part of me wish we wouldn't have to let this secret out. I wish I'd be able to stay."

Jimin held you tighter, "You don't know that you won't."

"It's a high probability," you said, "It's like you said earlier. We can't keep this from the company forever. Living like that would be hell."

"We'll take it one day at a time. I just don't want to see you give up hope that things will work out."

"I won't," you promised, "I'm just trying to be realistic."

He huffed, "I know you are. I wish I could make reality more comfortable for us."

You shifted your position, propping yourself on your elbows to be able to look him in the eyes, "Speaking of being realistic, when are we going to tell the guys and our families?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he had to mentally prepare himself to comprehend doing either of those things, "I can't wait too much longer without telling the members. Last weekend they noticed something was up. I was able to brush it off by telling them we decided to make things official between us, but they're just too close to me to keep the secret for very long."

You accepted this. It only made sense. These men knew him so intimately and were around him constantly. You adored Jimin but agreed that he probably would fail to conceal the news from them for very long.

"Okay," you said, "Maybe we can tell them together a few weeks after you get back. I'll be starting to show within the next month or so, and I'm sure you want to leave time to tell your family before the members."

He concurred, "I would like to tell my parents sooner rather than later. This just feels too big not to share with them right away. And honestly, as much as I'm dreading their reaction, I would appreciate their advice."

You tried to offer a reassuring smile, but the topic was disconcerting for you too, "I understand. Why don't you wait until after the ultrasound? That way you'll be able to answer the questions they will inevitably have, like what the due date will be."

He mirrored a more pleasant face, "That's reasonable. Do you think you'll do the same?"

You dropped your head and groaned, "I don't know. I love my parents, but I really don't expect a good response from them. And they will hold a grudge..."

Jimin ran his hand through your hair and stared at the ceiling, "I guess I better get ready to meet them, and you should get ready to meet mine."

Your eyes snapped back up, filled with apprehension, "What? H-How soon?"

"I don't know. But again, let's just take it one day at a time sweetheart. This week, all you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, hm?"

You re-centered your nerves and nodded, leaning your forehead against his, "And remembering to call you after the ultrasound."

He broke into a chuckle and tilted his chin upward so he could lock his lips with yours.

"Yes, that too."

Then the alarm on his phone went off. He had set it so that he wouldn't get carried away with holding you and run late for the airport. Both of you sighed. It was time to get up off this couch and say goodbye. You had to leave so he could catch his ride. For the sake of keeping the relationship under wraps, you couldn't exit at the same time. Jimin gave you one last hug by the door.

"Fly safely," you told him, "Have fun. I'm excited to hear about it when you get back."

He grinned, "I will. Keep drinking plenty of water and eat well."

He then released you from the hug and placed his hands on your tummy, "And have a nice time seeing our little...pomegranate seed?"

You giggled, "Good memory. I'll send you whatever photos I get."

You were pulled in for a series of heartfelt, slow kisses. Feeling so close to him made all of the fears seem smaller, even if it was just for a minuscule amount of time. Both of you knew to your cores that your lives would never be the same again, but your strengthening bond made it bearable.

“I love you, Jimin.”

“I love you too.”

It was finally ‘Ultrasound Day’. Your appointment was at two-thirty, and you were filled with the jitters.

So far, no one in the office seemed to notice any of your symptoms. You’d been caught once or twice in the middle of a nausea spell, but were able to chalk it up to stress.

By the time to leave rolled around, you had been collaborating with Chaeyoung, comparing her fashion sketches with your swatch ideas. The goal was to identify some actual outfits that the team would then work towards replicating with various designers. The only thing standing between mere ideas and reality would soon be the finalization of the budget.

When you told your co-worker that you had to head off to another doctor's appointment, she seemed a little confused. You had just gone to one, two weeks prior. You made the excuse that it was only a routine follow-up to the one before. On your way out of the office, you wondered when you'd let them all know. Your belly was going to grow, whether you liked it or not.

You got in your car and put in the directions on your phone. You were going to a different hospital to see an obstetrician recommended by Doctor Baek. According to her, this new care provider had the capacity to give at-home ultrasounds, if you ever requested it. It was important to you to find someone who could if it meant that Jimin would be able to experience at least one of these.

When you were finally called back into the room, your hands had gone cold and clammy. A lovely nurse took down some of the basic information, took your vitals, and drew your blood to run a quick lab.

By the time the doctor came in, you were more than ready. She was in a set of navy blue scrubs with a sunshine smile, "Y/N, I'm Doctor Yoon. It's a pleasure to meet you."

You shook her hand, "Nice to meet you as well."

She sat down at the same computer where the nurse had just logged some information, looking it over, "Alright, so we're looking at about seven weeks. Your symptoms all seem totally normal. So far so good, Y/N. How are you feeling? Ready to see your baby?"

You smiled, "It's been a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. But yeah, I'm ready."

She didn't ask you if a father would be attending, assuming by your demeanor and words that you came alone. Instead, she gloved her hands and scooted closer to the exam table where you were sitting, "Okay then. Lay back there, and you can go ahead and undo your pants a little bit."

You followed her directions.

"Right, so I'm just going to put a little gel on your belly. Be warned, it's a bit cold." Her cadence was so pleasant - you were glad that you were evidently given an excellent recommendation.

The gel was cold, but it warmed up to your skin as she spread it around with the wand. You hadn't looked at the screen yet, frozen and not quite as ready as you said you were. There was a muffled sound that became more pronounced once Doctor Yoon seemed to have honed in on one spot.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

That's when you looked. It was like something in your DNA had been kicked into gear in an instant. This intuition seemed to tell you exactly what it was. The screen was mostly grey, aside from a black zone in the middle. Nestled in that black pouch was a precious little white shape. It wasn't the perfect outline of a human being. In fact, you had no idea what developed parts you were seeing. But that new and profound maternal instinct within you was filling your heart with love and protection over this tiny thing.

"There you are," Doctor Yoon smiled, "And quite a strong heartbeat for your age, little one."

You didn't realize how emotional you were getting until you blinked away a couple tears. You didn't expect anything like this. In an instant, a small yet powerful connection was made, and suddenly your outlook was crystal clear.

This was yours and Jimin’s baby. A new little life that came directly from the love you shared with one another. Yes, the road ahead was bound to be tough, but now you were certain that it was all going to be worth it. Come what may, you were going to be a family. You were joyful, excited.

You began to smile through your tears, “Hi, you…”

Doctor Yoon was glad to see your reaction, “Everything looks great here, Y/N.”

“Oh good.” you beamed, unable to tear your eyes from the image on the monitor next to you.

She made a couple of clicks with a mouse as she continued to check around for another minute or two. Then she paused the screen and removed the wand from your abdomen. The image was still up on the screen for you to enjoy while she wiped the gel from your skin.

The doctor smiled as she peeled the blue latex gloves from her hands, “The measurements look good, all aligned with what we should see at seven weeks. Based on that, I’ll give you a due date of the eighth of January.”

In your soft, enchanted haze, you thought there couldn’t be a more perfect birthday for your child.

Doctor Yoon stepped out of the office for a brief minute or two. In the meantime, you re-fastened your pants and sat up. When she returned, she had printed photos to give you, “I had a feeling you’d want these. Now your second ultrasound should fall somewhere between eighteen and twenty-two weeks. I’d highly recommend scheduling that at the front desk as you head out. Just makes it easier.”

Your happy expression faded slightly as you held the printed scans in your lap, “Oh, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to yet. The father…he travels for work often and would definitely like to be a part of the second one. We haven’t gotten to talk about any dates yet. And we’d like to possibly do it at home, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” she nodded, “I do home visits all the time. You just call whenever you get it sorted out. In the meantime, just keep pushing through the symptoms and don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions, alright?”

You smiled, “I won’t. Thank you so much, Doctor Yoon.”

“My pleasure.”

When you walked back out into the parking lot, the world looked different to you. You couldn’t stop grinning and looking at the scans.

You couldn’t wait to share it all with Jimin.

He was pacing the floor by the bed, itching for that call to come. He knew your appointment was early in the afternoon, but the sun was setting outside his hotel room and he hadn't heard from you yet.

The other guys went out to a restaurant, at which management had booked a private room, to have dinner. He stayed behind, telling them that you two had plans to FaceTime. It wasn't a lie, but he got teased mercilessly for it.

Finally, it came. His phone started buzzing, presenting a red and green button. He immediately pressed his thumb on the green button and slid it to the side, only to be greeted with the sight of you. Despite all of the not-so-fun symptoms you told him about that week, you looked radiant. It put a grin on his face to see you that way.

"Hi!" you chirped, head falling back onto the pillow on your own bed.

He chuckled, "Hey, baby. You're in a good mood, huh?"

"I am," you smiled, "How are you?"

"Good," he nodded, making himself comfortable by sitting on the all-white hotel bed against the luxe headboard, "We had Vogue today. It was a good shoot, good interview. No complaints. But don't make me talk about my day, I want to hear about the appointment."

You laughed, but then your expression settled into one of simple and pure bliss, "Jimin, I don't know how to describe it. It was quick, but one of the best moments of my life."

There was a huge relief and eagerness to know more, "Try to describe it, please. What did you see?"

The angle of your camera shifted a bit as you leaned forward, reaching for something. When it went back to normal, you were holding some photos up for him to see, "This."

It wasn't the most clear image, but it made his eyes squint with one of his largest smiles. He'd seen ultrasounds before, so he knew where to look. There was his child.

A tight sensation formed in his ribcage, but it wasn't bad - it was his heart swelling, "Oh my God, Y/N..."

"I know." you near whispered.

He experienced a rush of adrenaline, pushing his hair back only because he didn’t know what to do with himself, "Wow, that's incredible."

You were happy to see him have a similar reaction to yours, "That's not even the half of it, though. I heard the heartbeat."

Jimin could see you starting to get emotional and it made him want to leap through his phone and share this beautiful moment in person, "You did?"

You nodded, eyes brimming with tears. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, "It was just the most adorable sound, Jimin. The doctor said it was so strong for it being seven weeks."

"And everything else looks good?"

A content sigh left you as you smiled, "It's all perfect."

Now a new paternal emotion was unlocked for him - pride. He was somehow proud of his little son or daughter for having a good heartbeat and for growing so well, "That's wonderful. God, you have no idea how much I want to be with you right now. And wish I was there to witness it with you.”

“Me too,” you said, placing the printed scans on your wooden nightstand off to the side, “But I’m too excited right now to think of any downsides. It’s like all of the worries I have just evaporate when I look at those pictures. We’re really having a baby.”

Your boyfriend looked so alleviated and pleased to see you this assured. He licked his lips, “We really are, sweetheart. Did you get a due date?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “January eighth.”

“January eighth,” he repeated with a single nod, “What a great way to start the new year.”

You giggled, “That’s true. A little winter baby.”

Jimin let his head fall back and let out a long, peaceful sigh, “This trip can’t end soon enough. When I get back Sunday night, I need to see you. Will you come over?”

“I’d love that.”

“And please take a picture of one of those scans and send it to me. I want to be able to look at it after we get off the phone.”

“I will.”

He didn’t want to, but he then said, “Okay. I’ll let you go now. Go make yourself some dinner.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “How did you know I haven’t eaten yet?”

“Because I know you,” he grinned cheekily, “We’ve spent a lot of evenings together, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m aware of your nightly habits.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks, “Fine, then I’ll go make myself something. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well tonight, baby. I love you.”

You knew you’d never get bored of hearing that come out of his mouth, “I love you too.”

Your face was then removed from sight. A few seconds later, he received a text from you. Opening it, he was graced once more with the image of the sonogram. A subconscious twinkle came upon his face as he zoomed in on the tiny white form in the middle.

The room was quiet, giving his mind all the space in the world to contemplate the little one yet to come into the world. Without knowing it, he uttered the same words you did:

“Hi, you.”

[squadron-of-damned]

Gamt :)

A quote of them that you remember

A childhood headcanon

Sexuality hc!

How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

The most unnecessary thing they ever did?

How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)

Future headcanon

What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

Gant! :)

I shall go with the classic: "There are only three people I watch out for: Me, Myself, and I." But the actual 'quote' I remember being most impactful is just when he stands there like this

for several seconds before the text starts running. The ultimate "..."

He had (or maybe still has) a brother, Norm, with whom he very much does not get along. Not as in that they hurt each other, but ever since they were kids they had vastly different views on the world. Of the two of them, Damon was the nice/kind one. As for himself, he was the kind of "I will do a Thing just to see what happens", but he didn't do many Things, because msot of the time he was able to very well reach the logical conclusion of what would happen. So it was more along the lines of "Will everyone actually evacuate orderly as trained if the fire alarm sounds?" (answer: No) and not "What's going to happen if I tear a bugs' legs off/dissect a live worm/etc.?" (6 yo Damon didn't know that the proper word for opening up a living being is "vivisection" and not "dissection", which is reserved for the deceased.)

He is definitely aromantic, and either asexual (sex-positive) or pansexual who doesn't really care for the attraction much. Damon will have sex when he feels like it with the first willing person with whom he thinks it's going to be good.

I am undecided between "manipulating Lana by threatening to reveal her little sister to be a murderer" and "playing the organ so loud that it rendered people temporarily deaf". Leaning towards the organ thing, honestly. For Lana he had a solid reason.

He would be very much a "let's talk about this" parent. Not the type to get angry, but also if you caused yourself a problem (especially if daddy Damon told you not to do the thing), he would not lend a helping hand, at all. Also the kid would get introduced to baby Franziska, Daddy would insist you are best friends, and let Fran do most of the "parenting". You'd grow up fine, but plenty of times you'd look back at your early life and suddenly realise "huh, that was kind of fucked up." Where 'that' would be things like getting a tutorial how to do drugs and not get caught, unarmed and armed self-defense, how to drive your colleague up the wall just by existing, and so on. Your teen friends would think he is cool in that laid back way, and after they'd leave, he'd say "honestly I hoped you know how to keep yourself in a decent company, but I can't be right all the time".

After his prison sentence is over (he had a good case and a good defense), he gets hired by a small café the woner of which had done some prison time too and knows how hard it is to get back on your feet with 'murder' or 'manslaughter' in your CV. It's supposed to be a temporary thing, but Damon finds out he is fascinated what kind of fucked up orders people are able to make and willingly drink (unicorn caramel decaf mocaccino).

Additional future headcanon: While still in prison, his assigned psychologist/therapist talked to him precisely once and after ten minutes concluded: "No, I really can't work with you. You know the textbook answers, you can improvise a whole new personality. I am good, but not good enough to work with that. And I can't tell when you are honest." "You are probably the first person who could tell. Have a nice one, doc, I'll send a word if I need you, ey?" And then they never talked again.

I ultimately choose to believe that Damon knew precisely what Blaise Debeste had been up to since day 1, and the whole chokehold he was holding the Prosecutors' Office in via Lana was directly to counter that as much as possible.

I honestly think that Damon figured out early on that "being himself" unnerves people greatly and people are horrible to work with when they are that kind of nervous. He had the set of various personas, the larger-than-life friendly one, the threatening one... He was himself basically only when he was overlooking a crime scene and in his head there were patterns flashing back and fro as he analyzed the situation.

[whitherwordswither]

Logs from the Starfields, II

Captain's Log #0.02:

Turns out the planet I wanted to go survey is a bit out of range. And a bit over my current level of expertise. Which is a shame. I wanted to get out there a ways. Away from folks. Guess that will have to wait, eh?

So I decided to head back to one of the first rocks I dropped down on. (Y'know. The one where I accidently blew up the spacers that wanted my ship.) I scanned a few things there and I really hate not having all the data once I start collecting it. Might as well mosey on back and tidy up! But wouldn't you know it. Not two seconds in to orbit and I get a hauler buzzing up my comm line with a warning. Saying shit's gone to shit in the nearby Altair system. Altair II specifically. Sounds like some folks in dire need of help against more brutish spacers.

Now. We're all out here trying to do our best. Why do folks gotta try and ruin everything by murderin' and bein' all fuck-headed like? I don't understand it. You get farther workin' together for a common goal, don'cha? …Well, I ain't got nothing better to do right now. Besides, I could use the loot. And helpin' folks is a thing I enjoy. So I guess I'm headin' in to that mess. It's just like maw always used to say: "Plans change, sometimes often. You just need to know when to roll." -- So I rolled.

Helluva lot of blockheads murdering up this research outpost. I don't take kindly to that. I drop out of orbit and insert myself in to this shitshow. The facility is pretty large. Definitely took a beating. They'll be cleaning this up for a long while. I help myself to whatever the dead spacers are carrying and… well. It's chaos in here, so I also help myself to whatever looks valuable around the facility. Ain't like whoever is left alive here is going to know it's gone.

I find some survivors and make sure they can keep on survivin'. That's always a good feelin'. Once I got the outpost cleared, they mentioned a sister camp had gone dark. And since I'm the only organism with a ship… welp. More helpin' ain't never hurt no one. E-specially if you're good up on meds and sandwiches!

It was a bit of a trek, even after touching down closer to the camp. Cold as the Ice Queen's balls, too. I'll definitely need to get myself some better environmental protection when I'm able. But that's a future-me thing to do. Right-now-me has a good handful of goons to take down. Nothing a few well placed projectiles from a distance couldn't fix. But dang if it ain't an encore they're after! Soon as I made sure the surviving scientists were good to go, the folks back at the main facility are yammering for me to get on back to 'em. More shit for the fans. So, up and down again we go.

The compound is swarming with spacers, eager guns blasting. No wonder they were hollering for me. I help clear out two dropships worth of reinforcements. And they still got more spacer ass that needs roasting! This time, they've got eyes on ships near Altair I and V. Three vessels in orbit near each planet. Well. Can't leave a job unfinished, can we? Gonna need a long drink after this, I can tell… (A nice flavored decaf coffee, or somethin', mind ya. I gave up drinkin' the heavy stuff a while ago for personal reasons. And regular coffee gives me awful nauseous jitters. I ain't got time for that.)

I take my ship up and make the rounds. Nasty fire fight. If I was any less capable at the helm I might've had a real bad time… but I make do. Barely. Guess I got a little luck on my side. Ain't comin' to see ya yet, maw!

Once I'm finished plucking worthwhile components from the wreckage I plop back down on Altair II just to make sure everything is decent like. And it is. We're all grateful to be alive. I wish 'em well and haul my loot-overloaded ass back up in to the stars and make a bee-line for New Atlantis.

Time to get some repairs, some sleep and… see how much cred we can get for this junk.

End log.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙5

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Sorry there’s no Eye of the Storm for today. I’m currently going through physical and emotional hell but I hope you don’t mind some Andy Barber.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed angry. You were always warned against it and you always learned your lessons the hard way. Hence, your current predicament and that stabbing just above your eye brow.

You got up slowly. You groaned and grumbled as you forced yourself to your feet. It was early and you had a shift at the diner. You never thought you'd be eager to be in your greasy apron but it was better than the alternative.

The night before, you'd spent a few minutes looking around the bedroom. There was an attached bathroom and you were thankful for that as you'd awoke once to relieve yourself before stumbling back to bed. 

You pushed through the half-open door and pulled your night shirt over your head. You stretched and reached to start the shower. There was a hand towel hanging from the ring above the sink but nothing else. You went to the closet but upon opening the door, you were surprised to find another bedroom on the other side. 

You swore and slammed the door before Andy could look up from his tie. You searched the handle for a lock and clicked it into place. God damn it! What kind of house was set up like that?

You heard his bedroom door in the hall and he knocked on your own. You scrambled to pick up your night gown and pull it back on as the hinges whispered and he appeared at the bathroom door. He looked confused as he crossed his arms.

"What was all that about?" He asked.

"I needed a towel," You huffed. "And I thought it was... a closet."

"Ah, linen closet's right next to my room." He explained. "I never really liked the layout but Laurie... I'll get you a towel."

You nodded and he left you. He returned with a dark blue towel and offered it to you. You took it and he reluctantly let it go. His gaze never left you; sombre and serious.

"Did you decide?" He asked.

"I'll tell Saul today," You said. "Is that acceptable?"

He sighed and sniffed.

"Call me." He said. "Doesn't matter when, I'll pick up. You let me know when your next appointment is."

"Okay," You resigned. "So, can I shower or...?"

"I gotta head out," He tucked his hand in his pants pocket. "I'll leave your breakfast on the counter."

"I can take care of myself." You insisted.

"Yeah, you keep saying that," He gave a sarcastic smirk. "What time are you done?"

"Seven," You answered dully. "I'll be home before curfew, dad."

He rolled his eyes and backed away.

"Well, won't be long till I am," He countered. "Isn't that right, mommy?"

He left you, the door closing with a snap. You listened as he went back to his own room and left shortly after, his footsteps fading down the stairs.

You set the towel down on the toilet lid and felt the warmth of the shower’s spray with your fingertips. You'd thought living with your mom was hard. Now you almost missed it.

🌙

You felt like you had a secret victory. While you'd given up the job that had seen you through the last decade, your job at the cafe was starting to look more promising. Many of your co-workers were college students and handed off shifts quite often. 

By the time you left the diner, dispirited as you were after the last few days' events, you had picked up two half-shifts for the next week. Another and you'd have more than thirty hours away from Andy and his suburban prison.

It was short-won as you found a bitterly familiar car waiting by the curb as you walked out of work. Andy sat in the front seat, his hand leaned against the steering wheel as he squinted at the glowing screen of his phone. You were tempted to ignore him and catch the bus instead but you didn't want another night of arguing. You just wanted to be home. You could hide in the guest room and try to forget. Well, as much as you could.

You knocked on the window and he looked over. He gave you his usual disapproving look and unlocked the doors with the flip of a switch. He tucked his phone away and turned the engine as you climbed in.

"I messaged." He said as he peered out into traffic. "Why didn't you answer?"

"I haven't checked my phone," You frowned. "Sorry."

"I told you to call me." He pulled out and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the wheel. "You make your appointment?"

"Monday," You muttered. Only three days away. "Ten thirty."

"I can make it work," He said. "You wanna grab some dinner? It's a bit late to cook."

"You gonna spoon feed again?" You challenged.

"Only if you make me," He said. "I want a copy of your schedule. Every week. I need to know when you're working and not."

"You're not serious?" You scoffed.

"I think I have a right to know. And look, we're having a kid and we should learn to get along before it gets here." He glanced at you in the rearview. "It wasn't so hard that night in the bar."

"Andy, forget that night," You breathed. 

"I can't." His voice was low, dusky. "Even if... if I hadn't run into you again, I'd still be thinking about it."

"Don't do this," You begged.

"I love-- Loved my wife," He continued. "But it was never like that. Never that--"

"Stop," You interrupted. "Andy, I get it, well, I can't really understand what you're going through but you're grieving your family. It's confusing, scary, but you can't expect me to fill that hole. It was a one night stand. As far as I know those are suppose to end the morning after, at latest."

He was silent as he pulled into the drive through of a local burger joint. You'd been to the place once, they had great potato wedges but charged a bit much for limited portions. He stopped at the speaker and turned to you.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Chicken burger, extra mayo, side of wedges," You craned to read the menu around him. "And an iced tea?"

"That's a lot of sugar. You should have a water for now and I have some stuff at home."

"Why did you even-- fine," You relented. "Water is fine."

Andy ordered and idled between the windows as he waited for the food. When it was his turn at last, he drew up and paid. He took the paper bag and the tray of drinks and handed it to you. He tipped, well, and thanked the server before pulling away.

"You don't understand. You're right." He said stiffly. "You can't but you can at least try. A baby... do you know what that means to me? Especially now, after everything. I never really put much faith in God but it feels like... a sign."

You lowered your head and shifted the paper bag on your leg as its warmth seeped through your pants. You felt bad. You were so concerned with what you were going to do, you hadn't really thought about him or his feelings. Sure, he was bossy, angry, but could you blame him? After a tragedy so uncontrollable how could you not be desperate for an ounce of control?

"Thank you," You said quietly. "For buying me dinner. For... letting me stay with you."

"You don't have to thank me for that. Decent people do those things." He stared at the road grimly. "I'm... sorry I've been so angry."

"It's alright. I haven't really been easy to deal with." You chuckled darkly. "I'd blame the hormones but I think it's just me."

"No, it's not," He turned down his street. "I'll be home late tomorrow night. There's lots of food in the fridge. You working?"

"Closing." You answered. "I'll be late too."

He nodded as he pulled into his driveway.

"Alright," He killed the engine. "I still want that schedule. It'll make things a lot easier."

You wanted to slap yourself. He came around as you managed to open your door and took the bag from you as he left you the tray of drinks. You followed him to the door, shaking your head at your own idiocy. He might be decent but it didn't make him any less overbearing.

🌙

Your days continued on a tightrope. You did your best to balance between Andy's irritability and your own misery. He might have apologized but there was something about the man that just kept you on edge.

And it was difficult to adjust to living with a man that was barely more than a strangers. To live in the shell of his former life. Even when you were alone, you stayed in the guest room, kept to yourself. It felt wrong to be there.

When Monday came, you woke to ready for your appointment. You dressed and went downstairs to find Andy awake and put together as always. The smell of his coffee made your mouth water.

"Any left in the pot?" You asked.

He shook his head as he blew the steam away from the rim.

"You can't have coffee. Too much caffeine." He said. "I'll buy you some decaf if you want. There's a gourmet place in the market."

"Don't worry about it," You grumbled. "I'll just have some orange juice."

"And some fruit, toast, yogurt..." He began as he set his mug down. "You should start writing down your meals. Keep track. You don't want to undereat." He opened the fridge and pulled out a basket of blueberries and a tub of yogurt. "We should also look into some supplements for you. Iron, probably." 

He grabbed a bowl and measured out the yogurt and then rinsed some berries to go on top. He slid the bowl across the island and put everything back in the fridge. He grabbed the loaf from the breadbox and shoved two slices in the toaster.

"They should be able to let us know what after today," He continued. "I was reading up. They're gonna take some blood, probably some urine, and you might even have an ultrasound."

"Reading?" You narrowed your eyes. "Did you do all this with... before?"

He pressed his lips together and cracked his neck.

"I was younger then. Naive," He said. "Nine months is a long time. A lot can go wrong."

You were quiet. You scooped yogurt into your mouth and tried not to scowl. You didn't need to walk into the doctor's in a mood. The whole thing was stressful enough.

He finished making your toast and offered you peanut butter. You took butter and accepted the dry dark rye. He tapped his fingers on the counter and reached for a book on the end. He slid it over and flipped it open just as you read the title; 'What to Expect When You're Expecting'. You wanted to laugh. You chewed instead.

"That's your research?" You asked.

"You should read it," He said without looking up, crossing his arms atop the counter as he bent over it. "You'd learn a lot."

"Oh yeah?" You swallowed. "I'll see if I can fit it on my reading list."

"Huh," He looked up at last. "I saw that you had quite a few hours next week. Thirty-three."

"You said I couldn't work two jobs," You shrugged. "So I have one."

"I thought we were getting somewhere," He stood straight. "I really did."

"What else am I supposed to do? I can't just sit around and wait for the baby."

"You can," He snapped and rubbed his beard, feeling the bristle of his beard. "Jesus, I just-- I'm trying to do what's right."

"For you? Me? The baby?" You wondered.

"For us," He said pointedly. 

"Us?" You echoed and set down the last crust. "What do you think is going to happen when the baby is here?"

His brows crinkled and took a breath.

"Well, I hope to have the nursery set up by then. Some clothes ready. No surprises, we'll need to know the sex so that we're ready." He slowly smiled as he spoke. "And maybe a pump for you, just in case. And I can take some days off to help out. It can be exhausting--"

"Andy!" You spat. "Andy, do you think-- do you think I'm going to stay here... forever?"

"You gonna pop this thing out and just go?" He asked. 

"I never said I'd stay. Why would I--?"

"Because we're gonna be parents. Together." He hissed. "Because I won't have my child bouncing back and forth like volleyball."

"I'm not doing that." You said. "No, I'm not--" You stood and rounded the counter. "I'll find my own way to the appointment. There's no reason you need to be there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" He stepped in front of you and blocked you. "I wasn't asking."

"You can't make me--"

"I can do whatever I want," His voice grew deeper as he backed you against the island. "I can tell the police you abandoned your child. I can sue you for support. I can have you arrested for neglect."

"Prove it," You snarled.

"Won't be hard. I got buddies in the PD. I don't even have to plant the evidence," He smirked. "I just gotta give them the go ahead."

"No," You tried to push past him and he grabbed your sides, pushing you back against the counter.

"Let me tell you something, sweetheart," He leaned in to whispered in your ear. "You're gonna do a lot of things you think you don't wanna do." 

His hand slipped to your hip and you caught his wrist, grasping his chunky watched. He stood straight and looked down at you nonchalantly. 

"You're right," He wrenched his arm away and looked at his watch. "We're gonna be late."

[thanatophobia-thoughts]

Moving on from Routine, let’s look at Emotional Self-Care. This is Self-Care that you use to improve your emotional stability. This is what Emotional Self-Care can take the form of (though I do not use all of these; I will talk more about the ones I use):

Comfort Food

Taking a “mental health day”

Napping and/or Sleeping In

Binge-Watching Comfort Shows/Reading a Comfort Book/Listening to a Comfort Podcast/Comfort Music/Comfort Video Games/Etc.

Long Baths

Venting

Reflecting on the Good

Meditation

Taking a Walk Outside or Hitting a Treadmill

Turning away from Social Media

Lighting a scented candle

Giving Gifts

Crying/Screaming/Emotional Outburst

Breaking Breakables

Playing with and/or Petting a Pet or Animal

Telling Other People You Don’t Want To Interact With Them (Right Now)/Boundary Setting

Taking care of Plants

Journaling

Cleaning

Treating Yourself (non-food)

Every time I googled “emotional self-care”, I got some things like “set boundaries”, “learn to say no”, and “create a support system” – all of which are very good things, but they don’t really fit the quick regulation criteria that I’m going for here.

So, which of these do I personally use? Comfort Food, Mental Health Days, Sleeping In, Comfort Media, Venting, Reflecting on the Good, Meditation, Hitting a Treadmill, Scented Candle, Giving Gifts, Crying, Animals, Boundary Setting, Cleaning, and Treating Myself.

I’d take care of plants but right now I don’t have a good space for plants.

I’ll look at comfort food last, because I have a list of food.

Mental Health Days, I usually try to schedule ahead of time, around days or times I know are going to be hectic. I know that after a convention, for example, I need “cooldown days”, so usually I will take the following Monday-Wednesday off from work to cooldown from the convention.

If I don’t know ahead of time, I do feel comfortable enough to call in sick, but I vastly prefer being able to plan it, simply because of who I am as a person. It is sometimes a necessity. Sometimes there is just too much going on, and I need to step away from everything. Usually on these days, I will sleep in, or sleep for most of the day, with the promise to go back to normal tomorrow – and that is how it should be.

These are tricks to put you back in line in caring for yourself! To get you back to normal!

Now, most weekends I do sleep in a little. I wake up every day at 6am, so on weekends, I will absolutely let myself sleep in to like, 9-11. It’s a good thing I have this blog on a schedule.

Binge-Consuming Comfort Media: I do not consider this the same as observing New Media, because often for me that is a Personal Self Care, and not necessarily Emotional Self Care. It can be, but more often than not, it gets my thinking fired up and engages me in a wholly different fashion. For example, I consider playing Final Fantasy XII to be a “comfort game”, but I will not consider playing Elden Ring for the first time to be “comfort”, so much as Personal, because the former I have already done, while the latter is something new and is creating new experiences for me. One regulates my emotions, the other does not do so in a foreseeable fashion. In new games, I do not know the experiences I will have, whereas with old games, I can predict them.

I will usually use Binge-Consuming Media in downtime that I have nothing else to fill, but do not have the energy to try something new right then (usually with the promise that I will return to new things in the near future, usually the following day when this happens on a weekend, or the next weekend if this happens on Sunday). Binge-Consuming Media also tends to occur normally on Weekday Evenings, as I tend to lack any desire for new media after work. It thus helps me to stay in a calm mood throughout the night, and prepares me for the next day of work by maintaining mood, rather than changing it.

Venting has to be done with care; I have friends I can vent to, but the vast majority of them only end up aggravating me more when I vent to them. Venting is something I tend to reserve for after I’ve figured out what I’m going to do, and I just need someone else to know my pain, because very rarely are people actually able to give me decent advice. Yet, venting is still useful because it lets me finally express it, and lets other people into my life, which is healing, and allows me to move forward without feeling like I’m keeping a secret.

Akin to that, reflecting on the good is a bit more of a solitary action, but it’s useful to remember that a “bad day” isn’t a bad life. To think of the people who love me, to think of the good things that did happen, even amidst the bad, and to remember there are more good things to come. After a particularly bad day at work, remembering good things, good phone calls with customers, and just good people, is always helpful, and can prepare me to continue through the rest of the day.

Meditation is something I try to do every day, and I do feel that it helps me focus on the moment, as well as helps me work through my thoughts when I’m not meditating.

Back when gyms were safe, hitting the treadmill was great for days I just couldn’t fucking convince myself to do my weight training. It still got me in the gym, it still got me exercising, and it helped me beat out the anger while listening to a podcast or music. I felt like I could breathe. I miss this, a lot, and I look forward to being able to return to this, or getting the “Just Dance” games for my home so I can do a similar thing, without going to the gym. I was then usually able to resume weight lifting the next day – and it kept me from breaking my streak of going to the gym, back in the day.

Aromatherapy is just a thing. I enjoy it, it helps me, and I love candles, haha.

Giving Gifts is also something I like to do. Making other people happy, makes me happy, and this is often a surefire way to do that. It can be as simple as a bit of chocolate, it doesn’t have to be anything extravagant. Of course, I have to make sure I am financial stable enough to do that.

Crying – when I need to. Sometimes I will have to kind of force it, by putting on a movie I know will make me cry, because just bursting into tears from stress without additional stimuli can be hard, but once it’s done, it is so relieving, and it allows my brain to start to function again without feeling as much in a daze.

It’s true I do have pets, and they’re kind of around me everyday, so this is more of a routine one – the animals are a constant source of comfort, but if you don’t have pets, visiting a pet store may be beneficial to give their animals a bit of affection, or going to an animal shelter. Or perhaps watching cute animal videos if those aren’t options.

Boundary Setting is also important. While sometimes, it can be good to help others when you’re going through a thing – I find it helpful sometimes – at other times it is just too much. Being clear on that, and also giving your friend some idea of when to “check in”, is good. It also lets your friend know a bit of a time period, so they know it isn’t a permanent block on conversing. Being open and clear about your situation can only do you good when it comes to your friends – and checking in with them when you’re ready!

Cleaning is oddly enough something I do when I’m preparing for something that is Good. I feel like I must cleanse the area in preparation of the New Good Thing. I will do this when I buy a new gaming console, or a long-awaited game, for instance. It makes things feel fresh and rejuvenated. It lets me walk into the New Thing as if it is a New Thing, and it starts it off on good footing. Some of the anxiety and anticipation of it, is quelled.

Treating Myself, when it’s non-food items, is usually things like clothing for me, or new PJs lately. I will also invest in books I plan to read, one day, eventually, cute Star Wars things, shows and/or movies to watch that are new, or things that generally speaking bring joy into my life. Sometimes emotional regulation, is also about reward. If you’re doing good in your life, you absolutely SHOULD be rewarded for it! Otherwise, why bother with balance and moderation? Why not live a hedonistic lifestyle? That would be far more pleasant if balance and moderation don’t have rewards. Not all emotional regulation is just to stop being sad, it’s also to be vindicated and celebrate good events. Celebrating IS regulating, when it calls for it, obviously. So I’m not encouraging here spending your money on whims because you are sad, but spending it more when you’re happy, and doing good.

And then we get to Comfort Foods. What do I use for comfort foods?

Chipotle Gouda Pasta Salad

Lime-Chipotle Pasta Salad

“Chicken” Fried Steak (Scare quotes because I’m a vegetarian so it’s fake meat)

“Tuna” Salad

Cheesecake, particularly raspberry white chocolate, or turtle.

Ice cream, particularly from Cold Stone, but usually either Rocky Road or Raspberry with Chocolate Chunks. There’s also Love Potion #9 which I have to drive a significant distance for….

Extra Lattes (note the extra – I already have these planned in with my meal plans).

Hot Chocoalte

Potatoes O’Brien and Gravy

The idea behind Comfort Food: Eating tasty food often restores a mood, or at least puts us in a better mindset. They aren’t always the healthiest things, though they aren’t necessarily unhealthy. They have to be done in moderation, as you see I indicate with lattes it’s “extra” lattes that go on the comfort food side. I usually have two decaf lattes a week, one on Wednesday, and one on Friday.

Comfort Foods are for a “limited time”. An extra latte means I don’t get one the following day, or I don’t get one every single day of the week. I take the comfort it offers when it’s needed, and resume my usual drinking habits.

Things like Pasta Salad are for weeks when I need a bit of help, or when I’ve done good, because they’re multiple serving things. So like, my birthday week, eating a pasta is good. Or a week where everything went to hell, and I can’t focus on making something “new” and I just need to eat – but then it’s right back to normality after that week. This is not have pasta for an entire month, this is a way to set intentions, and work on orienting myself back to normal with food I love, and food I can make with my eyes closed.

Single-serving things, like cheesecake or hot chocolate, are usually Reward self-care. Like fuck yeah, I did great, I should give myself a little treat. It encourages my good behavior, and does not become an indulgence. It also ends up “planned”, and so the rest of the meals work around that indulgence so I don’t go overboard with it, either.

Knowing what foods, and what I use them for, helps me to use them when they will be most beneficial for me. Things like “extra lattes” also makes me think: Do I really want to do this now, or wait until the day I’m going to have it? Is there a reason I need it now? What will I do after I have it? How does this impact everything else in the balance?

So these are kind of the “quick trick” emotional self-care tools I use. Obviously, you should try to have a steady way of regulating your emotions, but shit happens. Cars break down, work days suck, friends are angry, people die…we need to have tools to get “back to normal”, or close enough to normal.

And you should also, absolutely, take time to treat yourself in self-care! If you don’t reward yourself, what’s the point in being “balanced”, and not just living a hedonistic lifestyle? That’s why comfort food as rewards is a thing! It’s why you can use these as rewards, if it helps, for doing good!

These are just what I do, and what I suggest. These are ideas to get you thinking about what you could put on a list, and how that could help you. If these same ideas work for you, great! If not, you just have to feel out yourself to determine what will help you! Brainstorm with your loved ones!

[there-must-be-a-lock]

wings & the way down - part 4

Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan

Word Count: ~1870 this chapter

Warnings: None? 

A/N: A wild subplot appears! Gang’s mostly here, so we get to the fun stuff soon. Nobody’s reading this on tumblr, really, but I still feel the need to apologize for the delay! 

Catch up here. 

Monday, January 6 - Derek

As far as first days go, it could be a lot worse. It’s still fucking exhausting. 

They send the class president to meet him in the office, in the morning — blonde-haired and blue-eyed, straight out of a Colgate ad as she shakes his hand and introduces herself as “Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.��� 

Derek doesn’t fully trust girls like that, the ones who are so traditionally pretty they think they don’t have to be nice, but she’s cool enough as she shows him to his first class and gives him a brief tour, pointing out where he’ll want to go for his next class. He’s already feeling a little lost. 

People keep looking at him, and he wonders what they’re seeing. 

JJ seems to know everybody; she greets almost everyone by name as they walk, introducing Derek in passing. Most of the kids smile right back. It makes Derek reconsider his initial assessment of her; mean girls don’t usually get that sort of genuine warmth aimed in their direction. 

She invites him to eat lunch with her and her friends, but he has a meeting with Principal Strauss during lunch to talk about the student handbook, how he’s adjusting, and all the other fun shit. 

“No worries, standing invitation,” JJ tells him. 

“Tomorrow, then. It’s a date,” he replies, flashing his most charming grin. 

She smiles at that — not the flirtatious expression Derek expected, more like she’s laughing at a private joke — before waving and heading off to her own class.

The history teacher, Ms. Lewis, asks him to stand and introduce himself to the class, and to “Tell us something about yourself,” which… yeah, he saw that one coming, and he practiced it in front of the mirror last night. 

“Derek Morgan.” Not-too-bright smile; just casual enough to be cool, not cocky. “I just moved from Chicago. Psyched about the Vegas weather, not so much about the pizza.” 

He has to do the same thing at the start of every class. He’s going to be repeating it in his sleep, at this rate, and the more he says it, the more disingenuous it feels, trying to boil his identity down to one neat sentence. 

The English teacher, Blake, also asks him to say his favorite book, and Derek hesitates slightly. His instinct is to lie, say something cool and not quite as nerdy, but he catches himself and tells the truth instead. Nobody seems to care except the girl sitting next to him — dark hair, darker eyeliner — who raises a skeptical brow, like she doesn’t believe it. 

At the end of class, though, Blake pairs him with Eyeliner Girl for a project, and she gives him a begrudging smile before introducing herself: “Emily. Glad I’m not the new kid any more.” 

She scrawls her name and number on a piece of paper and slaps it down on the desk in front of him, saying something about meeting up later in the week, as she starts to pack up her stuff. Derek notices an enamel pin of a pansexual pride flag on her bag — between a Joy Division patch and a pin that says “Death Before Decaf” — but before he can figure out whether he wants to comment on that, she’s on her way out the door. 

Most of the day is just a blur of new faces and names and trying to remember where the fuck he’s going. Strauss is brusque but sharp. The place is huge, but there seem to be a lot of girls eager to show him around. People have been friendly enough; the whispers he hears are curious, instead of vicious. 

Derek feels a little bit like he’s got a spotlight on him every time he walks through the halls. At least here it’s a spotlight and not a bullseye. 

He wasn’t nervous for any of his classes, or anything, but he’s definitely nervous before practice. He’s not sure whether Coach Rossi told the team anything about why he ended up transferring mid-year. 

He’s braced for some hostility when he introduces himself to the team captain. “Hey, man, I know this has got to be weird, but—”

“Hey, apparently you can help us win some games,” the guy says, with a disarming smile. “Foyet. Glad to have you.” Derek breathes a little easier as they shake hands. 

Coach Rossi, meanwhile, isn’t like any high school coach Derek’s ever met. They’re usually big and loud and kinda aggro, but Rossi’s quieter, deadpan, well-dressed. He’s got this unimpressed expression, like he has seen some shit in his day and is not going to be bothered by any amount of macho teenage posturing. 

It feels good to be back on the court. The team’s not stellar, but fuck, it’s better than what he left behind, any day of the week. Derek’s in his element, here, and after a day of uncertainty, it’s nice to know he can still do this. By the end of practice, he seems to have won over most of the guys who seemed a little frosty at first, and that’s really fucking nice too. 

He hangs back for a minute to talk to Rossi, afterward, to thank him and just touch base. Then there’s talk of uniforms and making sure he has a locker, before the next practice, and by the time he gets showered, the rest of the team is gone.

He doesn’t mind walking back to the main building on his own. It feels like he’s been smiling and shaking hands and working so damn hard to make a decent first impression that he hasn’t been able to properly breathe all day. 

The school is mostly deserted, at this point — there are a few teachers still working at their desks, a couple students packing up. He gets a little bit turned around trying to find his locker again, wandering into an out-of-the-way section of classrooms near the auditorium before hitting a dead end. He retraces his steps and takes the right turn this time. 

Then he hears an argument around the corner, unmistakable in the relative quiet. He winces, wondering if he should announce his presence somehow, but it doesn’t sound like the kind of thing he wants to interrupt. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” a female voice is saying. “But every time I think about it… it’s terrifying. It’s easier for you, you’ve never—”

“You think this is easy?” another girl snarls. “Fuck that and fuck you. I told you, I’m not doing this. No fuckin’ way.” 

With that, heavy footsteps stomp away, echoing down the hall. 

Derek pauses for a moment, listening, but there’s no more sound; he waits a few seconds anyway before turning the corner, where one of the girls is still standing silently. 

When she whirls, startled by the sound of his footsteps, he realizes it’s JJ. 

It just takes her a blink to pull herself together at the sight of him; if he didn’t see the tears streaking down her cheeks, he’d almost believe it when she aims one of those Colgate-ad smiles in his direction. 

“You okay?” he asks hesitantly. JJ nods vigorously. 

“Totally! I think it’s allergies or something,” she insists. Right.  

“Think I’m a little turned around. How do I get out to the senior lot?” he asks her. 

“I’m heading that way, I’ll show you,” she says. As they start to walk, Derek can see her, out of the corner of his eye, wiping away tears discreetly. “How was your first day?” 

“Not bad, can’t complain,” he says, shrugging. “Pretty weird being the new kid, but… what are you gonna do, right?” 

JJ hesitates before saying, “Must be nice. Getting a fresh start, no expectations.” 

That’s not the usual line. Most people say it must be difficult, having to start over where nobody knows him; most people ask if he misses home, and they don’t consider what he’s trying to get away from. 

He doesn’t ask JJ what she wants to get away from — instead he says, “That’s what my momma keeps saying: I can be whoever I want to be.” 

“So who do you want to be, Derek Morgan?” 

“Just want to be myself,” he says, and she looks up at him with a small, sardonic smile. 

“You make it sound so easy,” she mutters. 

He laughs. “Yeah, fair enough.” 

This time, her smile seems more genuine. JJ points him in the right direction and then ducks into the women’s bathroom, with a wave and a reminder that she’ll see him for lunch. 

Derek heads toward the front door. He’s fishing around in his bag as he walks, looking for the keys to his uncle’s truck, when he walks right into somebody rushing out of the men’s bathroom. 

“Fuck, sorry, are you —” He stops dead, still with an arm out to help steady the other person, because the other person is Spencer. 

Spencer, who looks just as surprised as Derek feels. They lock eyes for a second, and Derek’s insides go on an entire fucking roller-coaster ride in one frozen moment. 

“I thought you were in college,” Derek blurts out, half-laughing, but Spencer doesn’t look even a little bit happy to see him. He’s gone pale. 

“What? No, still in fucking high school, last I checked.” His voice is bitter, and it cracks on the words. “I just take college classes sometimes.” 

“Oh.” 

“I thought you were visiting,” Spencer says, pushing his hair out of his face like he wants to be pulling it instead. 

“I am,” Derek says, stomach sinking when he realizes Spencer still isn’t smiling. “For another six months.”

Spencer’s mouth drops open, and Derek has a visceral flash of sensory memory: those pretty pink lips brushing his cheek. 

Spencer scowls. “So you’re — you go here. Fantastic.”  

Derek’s too tired to pretend the venom in Spencer’s tone doesn’t hurt. 

He snaps, “Did I do something wrong here, or did you just wake up on the bitchy side of the bed?” 

Maybe not his most mature reaction, but. It’s been a long fucking day.  

Spencer digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, for a second, and Derek can see the tension in his fingers. Then he exhales and it’s like all that twitchy furious energy drains out of him at once. He just looks exhausted. 

His voice is low and croaky as he says, “I liked that you didn’t see me the same way as everybody else does.” 

“So, what, you think that’s gonna change just cause we go to the same school now? What kinda asshole do you think I am?” 

“The kind who wears a varsity jacket,” Spencer mumbles. His eyes are huge and hurt and soft, and Derek recoils slightly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “Never mind. Just — trust me, okay? You’re better off pretending you don’t know me.” 

“I want to know you, though,” Derek says quietly. 

Spencer’s phone is vibrating. He looks down at it and then gives Derek one more sad little half-smile as he starts to walk away. 

“If you still feel that way by the end of the week, give me a call,” he says over his shoulder, already pushing the front door open. “But you won’t.” Before Derek can respond, he’s flipping the phone open and saying, “Hey, Mom. I’m on my way.” 

When Derek collects himself and follows him out, Spencer’s already gone. 

.

.

.

[starlocked01]

And at Last I See the Light

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary:  This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting. Content Warning: Major Character Death, Cussing, Kissing, Crying, Panic and Anxiety

Day 21 Analogical- (Combined AUs)  You see the world in black and white until you first touch your soulmate, Everyone is born with a gift or power that is nullified in the immediate presence of your soulmate, You have until midnight of your 26th birthday to find and identify your soulmate or else you both die.

This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting.

I should explain. This man was my soulmate in life and his gift was one of renewal. Flowers drooping in a vase would spring up at his touch. People nearing death found their ailments eased a while longer so they could say goodbyes. Wounds healed quicker for him and the weary found new strength at his encouragement. It was a gift that brought more beauty to the world; one I failed to appreciate.

Perhaps you will not repeat my mistakes.

Virgil yawned and stretched awake. The bright grey of the morning dawn made him squint in annoyance as he rolled out of bed and thudded to the floor. He could dream in color and frankly preferred dreams to the living world.

Today especially Virgil would have preferred to roll over back asleep. Today marked the beginning of the end as most people saw it.

Virgil had one year left to find his soulmate or they both would die.

That was of course unless his soulmate was older and had less than a year of their own. Frankly, Virgil thought the universe had a rather twisted sense of humor. It withheld color and life from those who most needed a reason to push forward each day. And gave them a freaking time limit to fall in line.

Soulmates were bullshit.

He'd already been touched by every kid at school and from the surrounding districts. Normally, when kids graduated high school and hadn't found their soulmates, they'd go to college to find a wider selection of people their age to try and match with, but Virgil had decided against college. He'd been called crazy but frankly, he didn't much care.

Virgil shrugged on what appeared to him as a black hoodie with drab grey patches and ran his fingers through his hair. His bangs fell right back in his face as he headed down the stairs. He brushed his hand through the vase of flowers his grandmother constantly forgot to water and watched as petals and leaves in various shades of grey perked up, ready for another day of neglect.

For his birthday, the atmosphere in the kitchen sure felt like his funeral.

"Good morning, Nana," Virgil murmured, grabbing the box of cereal from the table and reaching in to grab a handful.

"Get out," she spat at him, "either find your soulmate or die in obscurity so I can pretend you found a lovely woman and settled down in the country."

"Love you too, Nana," Virgil sighed and grabbed his messenger bag.

"Why are you the only one who doesn't want to be happy?" she asked, voice choked with sadness.

"I don't need a soulmate to be a complete person. If I find someone I find someone. If not, oh well. I've had friends and family I was happy with and soulmates tore them away from me. It's a broken system and if I die being myself, I'll come to haunt you until you join me in the afterlife," Virgil smiled softly and kissed her on the cheek.

She laughed dryly, "you don't scare me, little verbena. Please, try to find them. I love you." Virgil saluted as he left the apartment for work.

The great thing about working in the library was the quiet shuffle of people reverently browsing through the shelves piled high with more words than they could possibly read. Virgil enjoyed the calm and helping people find what books they were looking for. Except when the only fact they knew about the book was the color of the cover. When those people asked he would flash his grey eyes at them and smile sweetly before saying they all looked the same to him. Most people would act horrified and apologize profusely. Some would get angry and demand assistance he couldn't provide. Roman usually stepped in at that point, and despite having met Janus a year ago, rarely was able to locate books by color. At the very least he always offered Virgil sympathy when the guest walked away.

"You just have to go where the young people are, Virgil. They come to the city looking for soulmates, you need to spend more time with people your age. I'm sure your soulmate is out there looking for you!" Roman grinned, "Jan and I go to this great bar-"

"Let me stop you there, Princey," Virgil chuckled, "I don't do bars or crowds. Even going with you two sounds like a nightmare. I'm not going to subject myself to that for what? Some strangers to touch me and change the whole world to color? Lame," Virgil rolled his eyes. They had this conversation once a week.

"Um, excuse me. I need assistance logging on to your computer system. If I need to register for a card to do so I would like the forms to start that process," Virgil swiveled in his seat towards the man's voice and lost his own.

He looked like a man out of an old black and white film, (to Virgil every film was black and white, but Nana insisted there was a difference when pictures changed to color) his hair was slicked back and face was punctuated by thin black glasses frames that accentuated the stranger's cheeks and nose. His silhouette was sleekly defined in a black polo and grey jeans, with a slightly more saturated grey tie. Virgil felt as though the man's presence had taken his breath away.

"Can you help me?" the man cleared his throat and Virgil snapped back to present.

"Sorry, of course, sir. Do you have a form of identification to apply for a library card? The card is required to access the computers, unfortunately," Virgil rattled off the spiel from memory while pulling out the form and a new card. The stranger handed him his driver's license.

The first thing he noticed was that it was an out of state ID. The second was the birthdate, just a month before his. The third was the man's name.

"Thank you, Logan. If you would just fill out this form, I just need to make a copy for our records."

"Certainly, thank you- what's your name?"

"His name is Virgil and he's single," Roman slid in with a wink at Logan. Virgil quickly turned and walked to the photocopier, heat rising in his cheeks. He could just hear the man's reply.

"Thanks? I don't really do relationships. Do you have a pen?"

Virgil took several deep breaths. He'd had crushes like this before. It would go away as he learned more about this Logan. He grabbed the copy paper and the ID and returned to the front desk.

"Here's your ID back," he traded Logan the ID for the paperwork and scanned through it quickly, "looks like you forgot to put down a phone number, what was that?" Virgil realized a second too late how that would sound to literally anyone as Roman snickered at him, but there was a blank space on the form.

Logan looked incredibly confused, "no, that's- I couldn't have forgotten. The number is- wait," he pulled a cellphone out of his back and read the number off to Virgil who jotted it down in the correct space.

"You're looking kinda pale there, Logan, do you need to sit down?" Roman looked concerned and even Virgil could see what he was talking about.

Logan shook his head, "I never- ever- forget anything. Ever."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess," Virgil shrugged and slid the library card across the desk.

"You don't understand, my gift is perfect recall. A permanent eidetic memory. I don't forget. I should know my own phone number like I know the digits of pi."

"Nerd!" Roman coughed to hide his laughing and both Logan and Virgil glared at him.

"That is pretty strange.. I hope it gets fixed for you soon? Anyway, you're all set, Logan. Let me know if you need anything else," Virgil smiled.

"Thank you-" Logan snapped his fingers a few times before giving up trying to remember, head hung in defeat.

"Virgil," Virgil supplied softly.

"Thank you, Virgil. It was nice meeting you two," Logan walked away from the desk and straight toward the nearest open monitor.

"You better ask him out or I'm breaking up with Janus for a chance at that," Roman said in a low voice to Virgil.

"No, you won't. He's out of both of our leagues anyway," Virgil smirked at his coworker's offended gasp and returned to checking in returned books.

"His tie was blue, by the way," Roman winked and turned to find another patron who needed help.

Logan came back to the library every day except the holidays for the next few weeks and always made a point of asking Virgil when he had questions or needed help. Roman insisted it was mutual pining but Virgil held fast to the comment that Logan doesn't do relationships. Unless he heard otherwise from Logan himself, Virgil refused to imagine a relationship was possible.

He was completely blindsided when Logan asked if he would like to hang out after his shift.

"I'm sorry, come again?"

"I would like to spend time with you when you are not otherwise preoccupied with your duties. Is that not acceptable?" Logan was always so direct. Virgil felt his heart flutter just a bit, nowhere near as intense as it had the day they met.

"I mean yeah that would be cool," Virgil smirked.

"So do you do bars or-?" Logan looked put off even making the suggestion.

"I know a cafe that has decent decaf; if you'd like we can walk there from here. I'm off at 6," Virgil watched as Logan nodded decisively.

"Excellent, I look forward to it," Logan grinned and Virgil found himself grinning back.

Roman slowly inched closer in his rolling chair, eyes wide with excitement and jaw dropped in disbelief, "Virge, do you have a date after work?"

"No! We're just hanging out," Virgil turned to ignore Roman.

"'Hanging Out' is code for a date. Maybe he's your soulmate! Brush his hand or something and find out!" Roman was bouncing in his chair now.

"No! That's so rude! Did you do that to Janus? Don't answer that- I bet you did," Virgil rolled his eyes, "it's not a date to the extent of my knowledge."

"Oh my god, you're mirroring him. You like him so much! Virgil, this could be it!" Virgil glared at Roman and shushed him in true librarian fashion before standing to grab the cart and collect used books from the tables.

Virgil picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he turned to leave but was surprised to see Logan waiting for him by the door. He had been certain Logan would have either forgotten or changed his mind and left by now.

Roman gave Virgil a huge cheesy grin and a thumbs up, "good luck on your date!" his whisper could probably have been heard in Russia.

Virgil felt the heat rising in his cheeks and shrugged his hoodie on tighter over his shoulders, waving off Roman and walking over to join Logan by the door.

"Hey," he said awkwardly.

"Are you ready? If you need more time-" Logan started.

"I'm fine. Let's get out of here before Roman starts taking pictures," Virgil turned to leave, taking purposeful steps to the door and flipping Roman off behind his back. Logan followed briskly. Virgil led him to his favorite coffee shop, quiet on the walk there.

The question was burning in his mind though. Was this supposed to be a romantic date? Or worse a soulmate test. Virgil had gathered that Logan was rather frank, but he really didn't know the man at all.

Both of them reached to grab the door to the shop at the same time. Virgil snapped his hand back.

"Please, allow me," Logan opened the door and ushered Virgil inside. Virgil wanted to shrink until he was invisible. He tried a quick controlled breathing exercise to calm his nerves. They each ordered and Logan excused himself.

"Virgil! Come help me out over here!" the owner, Mr. Dolenz, looked rather put out by a droopy speckled grey potted fern by the front door.

"Oh no, not Tabitha," Virgil walked over, surveying the damage to the plant. Each leaf he fingered grew stronger and healthier until the whole fern was practically an inch taller. Virgil smiled as Mr. Dolenz thanked him profusely, "maybe keep an eye out to make sure people aren't dumping drinks on her. That could really mess with the soil pH."

"You're a miracle worker! You and your boyfriend's drinks are on me," the owner clasped Virgil hard on the back. He couldn't respond before the man was already bustling back towards the kitchen. Virgil turned to see that Logan had apparently returned in time to hear just enough. It was difficult to tell, but Virgil thought Logan might be blushing.

"What was that about?" Logan cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

"Oh, people like to dump drinks they're done with on the plants and it kills them. So I just use my gift to restore the plants before they're dead for Mr. Dolenz. I think he made a few too many assumptions tonight," Virgil scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh, what is your gift?" the look on Logan’s face was fascinated with Virgil’s claim.

The barista called their names and they collected the drinks before selecting a table by the windows in the corner, "I can renew things. Makes sense that I'm a librarian," Virgil laughed dryly at the tired joke, "basically I can bring a little bit of life back before it's gone. Can't really raise the dead though," he took a sip of his decaf mocha.

"That must be at least fairly useful. Is there a reason you didn't go into a medical profession?" Logan sipped his iced black coffee, looking intently at Virgil.

Virgil couldn’t take the internal tension in his mind any longer and blurted out, "is this a date? Are you trying to figure out if I'm your soulmate?" his eye went wide and he bit his tongue.

"No, did I give off that impression? I didn't want to seem too cold but-" Logan looked crestfallen.

Virgil smacked the side of his head and cursed Roman for planting the thought in his mind, "Logan, I'm sorry. You didn't- Roman- I- ah… I'm sorry. I'm just so used to everyone trying to force me into romantic scenarios that I did it to you when I knew that's not what this was- I'm so sorry. I made it awkward and now I'm rambling and you're probably just going to stand and leave-" Virgil felt a tear slip down his cheek as Logan cleared his throat.

"Actually, I understand what you mean. I too haven't found my soulmate, nor am I interested in finding them," Logan took a long sip of coffee, "I've accepted this is my last year alive. I actually moved to the city because my family wouldn't stop trying to force me into relationships as well."

"Really? Wow, that's… it's so messed up!" Virgil was worked up now and Logan was going to get the rant whether he wanted it or not, "why cut short someone's life just because they haven't found one person out of billions on the planet? And yet somehow for 99% of the population, it works! But where does that leave people like us? Discarded by the universe. It's asinine," Virgil huffed and Logan listened calmly until he was done.

"I agree," came Logan’s simple reply.

"You do?"

"I do. It's asinine. But it's how life works. Life is an ass," Virgil tried to hold back a laugh.

They talked about everything until the cafe closed. Logan talked about his research and writing and Virgil listened in wonder. Virgil talked about his interest in flowers and their symbolism while Logan nodded along. Virgil learned about Logan's previous job as an Astronomer and Logan listened to Virgil's rants about library patrons. They were joking and laughing for the whole walk back to the library. They agreed to go out for coffee at least once a week and it quickly became Virgil’s most anticipated evening each week.

Roman teased him to no end, but Virgil was comfortable in his growing friendship with Logan. His initial crush had faded into nonexistence and he simply enjoyed the man's company.

The months flew by and soon it was fall again. Virgil was so busy with the library's Halloween decorations that he almost didn't notice that Logan had not come in all day. He tried to shrug it off but the voice in the back of his head told him he needed to worry about this or he'd probably never hear from Logan again.

When Logan was nowhere to be seen the next day, Virgil texted him, asking if everything was okay. The response was sobering.

L- I apologize. I've been feeling too weak to get out of bed for the past few days. I hope you find your soulmate before your birthday, Virgil. Dying is less peaceful than I had calculated.

Virgil stared at the screen, scanning the words over and over. He could feel panic screaming in his chest, trying to drown out the world. There had to be something- he texted back.

V- can I come over? Maybe my gift will make it easier for you?

The reply was nearly immediate.

L- There is no need. I will rest today and be back to my research tomorrow. This book has a rather final deadline.

L- No pun intended.

Virgil couldn’t focus for the rest of the shift or the rest of the night. Worry for his friend gnawed at his stomach and kept him up late into the night.

True to his word, Logan arrived at the library at his usual time the next day. Virgil felt overwhelmed with relief that was quickly replaced with deep dread. Logan looked terrible. He had dark bags under his eyes and gaunt hollow cheeks. He carried himself as tall as he always had, but there was a new looseness to his movements.

Logan smiled as he approached Virgil’s station at the front desk, "I'm sorry I worried you, Virgil. Are we still on for tonight?"

Virgil nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Great, thank you," Logan turned toward his usual workspace. Virgil kept an eye on him all day. If he was honest with himself, he was scared. It was like seeing his own future, but instead of watching himself dying, he was watching the man he'd come to consider his best friend waste away.

At 6 Virgil signed out and waited for Logan to make his way to the door. He suggested he drive them over to the cafe and Logan readily agreed.

Virgil held open the door and insisted on picking up the tab. Logan wouldn't let him help physically but he would do everything he could for this man.

They sat quietly at their corner table. Virgil’s mouth was dry but he couldn’t bring himself to drink.

"Virgil?" his head snapped up hearing his name, "I have a bit of a surprise confession to make," Logan fiddled with his cup, not making eye contact, "I recently discovered that I am demiromantic. I had assumed I was aromantic but it seems I have developed feelings for you," Logan's laugh sounded hollow, "that must be pretty frightening coming from a walking corpse."

"Logan, when we first met, I had a huge crush on you. And I'm so glad we've gotten to know each other this year. I- don't have those feelings anymore, but I'm flattered, knowing you," Virgil hoped honesty would be the best policy.

Logan nodded, deep in thought, "that's fair. I'm sorry for imposing on you."

"No! No no no. You haven't. I- I understand- one-sided feelings hurt and you look like you're in so much pain. I'm not upset or weirded out. You're my best friend, Logan, and I love you platonically."

"I have less than a month until my birthday," Logan groaned softly, clutching his stomach, "I probably won't be coming in much anymore."

Virgil nodded, understanding, "can I try to use my gift on you?"

"No. I knew this was going to happen. There's no sense hiding from it now," Logan smiled weakly.

"Can I at least visit you after work? I don't want you to be alone," Virgil could sense Logan wanted to make this a goodbye but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He felt desperate to be there for Logan every minute he could afford.

Logan could see the panic in his eyes and nodded. He didn't want to be alone either.

Virgil showed up every night after work. He cooked and cleaned and did anything he could for Logan in the time they had. After Halloween, Virgil started to feel the effects of the deterioration himself, but he pushed the pain down to focus on being there with Logan.

The night before Logan’s birthday was quiet. Logan laid in his bed and Virgil sat in a chair beside him. The clock ticked audibly, much louder than it should have been. Virgil picked up the nearest book and began reading aloud. Logan visibly relaxed. After a while, Virgil turned to face Logan and whispered words of encouragement and strength. Logan wouldn't let him try anything else but it usually helped people who were tired. Nothing changed.

Logan started crying. It was barely noticeable at first (Virgil noticed) but grew in fear and pain.

"Logan, I'm here. You're not going to be alone. I promise," Virgil wanted to grab his hand, to physically comfort him in some way, but when he tried Logan pulled his hand away from Virgil's reach.

"Virgil, I love you. If I had a soulmate I would have wanted him to be you," Logan's voice was a rasp, paper-thin.

"Just, wait for me in the afterlife, I won't be long," Virgil tried to laugh but he sounded hollow.

The clock ticked louder, midnight was minutes away. Virgil wiped the tears from his cheeks and tried to smile for Logan, pulling every fiber of his being into being strong.

"Maybe it was you and I've been running from the truth," Logan reached out his hand and the clock struck midnight just before he touched Virgil’s cheek, "I think it was, but that doesn't matter anymore. I lov-" the light in his eyes extinguished like a candle finishing a wick. Logan’s body fell back to the bed and Virgil shattered.

Logan was gone. And Virgil knew that his dying breath was right. They were soulmates but it was too late.

Virgil collapsed on the bed, sobbing and holding Logan close. He was so light at the end, almost incorporeal to the touch. Virgil cried over all the pain he could have prevented, the sleepless nights dreading this one, for the friend he'd never talk to again. Logan was the only one who had ever understood, who had accepted his choices, who had believed in him when everyone else pitied him. And he was gone.

He was gone.

As if possessed, Virgil kissed his soulmate’s body on the lips and then leaned to whisper in his deaf ear, "I love you too, Logan. I love you too. You were my soulmate. I'm coming," with that he collapsed in a fresh batch of tears, crying until he was exhausted and his face was contorted and purple from the exertion.

Virgil opened his eyes. Blue. Blue eyes stared back at him from the face he'd often dreamed of in color like this. This had to be a dream. A dream of lovely blue confused eyes and disheveled brown hair. The room hadn't changed except it was morning and everything looked just like a dream. Because it had to be a dream if Logan was looking back at him with deep brilliant blue eyes filled with more questions than answers.

"Virgil?" Logan's voice croaked. Why couldn’t he dream of his soulmate how he wanted to remember him? "Virgil, what happened? What day is it?"

"It's a dream, it can be whatever day we want it to be," Virgil replied, his throat raw and voice cracking as if he'd been crying. This was rather on the nose realistic for a dream.

"Check a phone, Virgil, this isn't a dream," Logan pleaded.

"I wish it wasn't a dream. I don't want to wake up and find you cold," Virgil sighed. Kinda a stupid dream if it wasn't going to be a happy one.

Logan reached over and pinched Virgil hard on the arm. With a yelp, he jerked back and fell out of the bed. Most dreams would have ended there but as he stood, Virgil could see those blue eyes focused on him. He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was on low battery but he could still read the date.

"It's November 3rd," Virgil read of the screen just before it went black.

"My birthday. I shouldn't be alive… why am I alive?"

"You can't be, that's why this is a dream?" Virgil wasn't so sure of himself anymore. Nothing in the room had changed from the night before but everything was bright and colored like his dreams.

Virgil smacked the side of his head with his palm. It hurt and Logan jumped at the sound. Dream Logan would have expected the sound.

"What was that for? Are you okay?" Logan looked alarmed. He tried to sit up in the bed. Virgil walked over and offered him a hand up. After glancing around the room, Logan accepted his hand and pulled himself up with Virgil’s help.

"So…" Virgil started.

"So," Logan answered.

"This isn't a dream."

"Not likely."

"The world is in color?"

"Yes. Your hoodie is purple and black, nothing like how I dreamed of it."

"Your eyes are blue."

"My dad always said they were. Yours are brown."

"Yeah, Nana always said she loved my eyes and hoped I'd see them someday."

"Why am I alive?"

Virgil shrugged, "miracle?"

After a long back and forth, Virgil and Logan came to the conclusion that Logan had indeed died that night but somehow had been brought back.

Virgil described how he'd tried to use his gift on Logan before midnight, how he'd broken down and cried over his soulmate for most of the night. Virgil vaguely remembered the kiss and whispered confession.

"That's it, your gift worked on me because I was dead. I wasn't spiritually present so you were physically able to bring me back and the soul followed," Logan's eyes were aflame with the complexity of the situation.

"Promise this isn't a dream?" Virgil sat on the edge of the bed and reached for Logan’s hand.

"I promise," Logan took his hand. It felt warm and good and solid and real.

Because it was real. Logan was real. He was here. To stay.

This is the story of how I died. Thank the stars I didn't stay dead.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[malereader-inserts]

Waited on the Thunder

Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Male!Reader Summary: Sherlock needs some sleep, and yet he finds himself making his way to you  Word Count: 1,072 A/n: So, England decided to have a fucking heatwave and now it’s 2:50am and it’s thundering and lightning out there, so I’m writing this to calm myself down because whilst it’s all good and well, my body is telling me differently

“(Y/n)?” 

Sherlock calls out, creaking up the stairs to 221C, your apartment. He knows you’re still awake despite it being past midnight, you and him bonded over the lack of sleep you ever get. As he creaks the door open, soft music is playing in the background.

He can smell the freshly made coffee as he enters the apartment. Whilst he was downstairs Sherlock could hear you shuffling up in your living room and things moving around. Sherlock could smell the paint in your apartment, he smiles to himself when he sees a canvas on your easel, drying.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out, he knows you’re in your apartment.

You peak your head from the kitchen and see your apartment buddy in your living room.

Sherlock and you have an unlikely friendship, in fact, Mrs Hudson and John had doubted that Sherlock would even like you in the first place but alas, Sherlock was always there to prove them wrong. But, Sherlock would never admit to them or to you.

How Sherlock Holmes had fallen head over heels for the Artist Boy in the upstairs apartment.

You were a fresh breath of air, you are possibly the only other person Sherlock could tolerate because not many men like you could make Sherlock at peace with his brain. He doesn’t know if it’s you or its the scented candles that Molly keeps sending you.

“Hello, Sherlock, glad to see you decent,” You greeted, mentioning that he’s wearing his PJ and dressing gown, “Care to join me?”

“In what?” Sherlock asked; he likes being around you, for some reason you have that aura around you that calms his mind and he’s too lazy to deduce you, “I can’t paint.”

Sherlock, at first meeting, wanted to avoid you altogether. He thought that because of his mind his refusing to deduce you, you were going to take advantage of him. Yet, he was pleasantly surprised that you had no care in the world for his antics.

“Watching the skies,” You mused out, moving out the kitchen and shoving a mug of coffee into his long boney hand, “Perfect weather to watch the skies.”

The thunder seemed to crack the air as if the very heavens might split apart. It rolled like the ash could of a volcano, becoming a rolling booming rumble. It declared to all the raw power of nature and gave fair warning of the wrath that was to come.

Sherlock jumped, causing you to snort, was he too caught up in the moment with you to forget about this piss poor weather? He turns to follow your movements, his eyes settled to see the moved sofa from its original placement to in front of the window.

Then the night skies sparked with light before fading away, you smile to yourself as you got yourself comfortable on the sofa, bringing your legs up to you and covering yourself with the blanket.

“Coming to join me?”

Sherlock moves slowly, sitting at the opposite side to you, crossing his legs on the sofa.

“How do you find it soothing?” Sherlock mutters, hearing the distant rumbling.

The thunder rolled overhead like the fury of the gods. It tumbled toward them through the darkened clouds, spreading out into the night, hailing the promise of rain to the land below. 

“Gives me inspiration,” You hummed, your shoulders relax, “If you’re too tense, there’s music you can try to focus on.”

Sherlock looks over to you, bringing the mug to his lips, the steam heating his face to mask the slow blush overriding his face. And with the flash of the lightning, he sees how your eyes looked soft yet so admirable - determined to find an artistic view.

“Are you afraid, Sherlock?” You asked softly, looking over to him, sipping on the coffee as Sherlock looked unsure himself.

He’s always prided himself on never having a fear, perhaps, he did have a fear but he could avoid. But, when he’s around you, he feels normal - like your definition of normalcy. He lets his guard down just for you, tensing when the skies tore out another warning to the unsuspected flooring.

“Perhaps,” Sherlock says carefully, “I haven’t had much thought.”

“May I suggest you breathe?” You asked carefully, eyeing your friend, “I feel like you’ll drive yourself to panic, we can change activity if you want.”

“No-” Sherlock says before his mind can catch up with him, “I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” You say, giving him space and turning your gaze back to the window, sipping your coffee.

Sherlock stares at you, he’ll be fine, at least he has someone to stare at to bring himself back to reality. He looks at his coffee before looking outside again, this time he relaxes, putting his feet up against the window sill and sinking into the comfort of your sofa.

He hears the soft music in the background, filling the apartment, soothing and undisturbing. He forgets why he came upstairs to join you in the first place, he was torn between talking about his day and just being in your atmosphere.

“Have you drugged the coffee?” Sherlock asked as you raised an eyebrow, fascination flash across your face when a bolt of lightning cracked the dark skies.

“Of course not!” You say offended, your voice going an octave higher, “What do you take me for? You?”

Sherlock simply smiles sleepily, “You’re better than that.”

“Never thought I would hear the day Sherlock Holmes would insult himself.”

“I would never insult you, (Y/n), your feelings mean a lot to me.”

“Okay, that’s enough decaf coffee for tonight,” You exclaimed, enjoying seeing Sherlock, not himself.

You took the mug off Sherlock and placed it on the side table next to you, along with your empty mug. Sherlock sighs heavily, almost jumping when the skies start to rumble with its anger. 

“You need sleep, Sherlock,” You murmured, sparing him a glance, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Sherlock is apprehensive, he doesn’t want to fall deeper for your charm, he doesn’t want to he chain to someone, he doesn’t need the commitment and yet with you.

It felt right.

And so, he shuts his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head against your side. He hears you hum in satisfaction, he listens to your breathing and ignores the thunder cracking to disturb his peace.

“Sweet dreams, Sherlock.”

[dcbicki]

10: “ We cant keep this up forever. ” Dan and Amy, please and thank you!

Set mid-season four. AU in which they were totally boning on the regular. | Took over two months but like I’m finally finishing these prompts so there’s that at least. And, not gonna lie about it, this was really fun to write. Enjoy!

-

They fall into a pattern shortly after she comes to work with him. He gets her the job, she sets the pace and lobbies circles around him.

They take their clients (shared, sometimes) out for drinks, get them sufficiently liquored up enough to settle for an offer inferior to what they’re entitled to, to what they probably deserve.

They stay for one more round, as Dan puts it – which generally means they end up staying for two more – and they stay drinking long after said clients have dispersed and gone home.

They stay longer than they probably should given their hectic schedules and the business breakfasts they have to bullshit their way through every other fucking morning.

They drink more than they probably should given their history and their fucked up yet-to-be-defined tension, and the way Amy is a lot more touchy when she isn’t so sober, something Dan only notices when it’s the morning after and his head is pounding from all the scotch and all the tequila and he has nails marks down his arms and across his shoulder blades.

“We can’t keep this up forever, you know?” She’s pulling on her heels, one finger tugging at the back of her shoe, wiggling her foot. It slips on, and she stands with a flick of her hair, tucking slick blonde locks behind her ears, “We have to stop.”

“You said that last week.” He nods to reminisce, to remind her, “And now look where you fuckin’ are.”

“Yeah, well, if anybody asks I’ll deny it.” She says, glaring down at him, still lay on his bed, dick barely covered by his sheet, arms stretching out as though it’s going to wake him up any more. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

“Decaf’s in the cup-”

“I know.”

They fall into a pattern shortly after she comes to work with him. He gets her the job, she sets the pace and lobbies fucking circles around him. She gloats about it, too.

He retaliates by fucking her good, good enough and hard enough to make her forget for just a little while how fucking screwed up she is, how messed up they both are.

Good enough that she can pretend she doesn’t loathe his guts but crave his affections all at once. Hard enough that he can pretend he doesn’t give a single flying fuck about her, despite constantly longing, vying for her attention.

It’s simple enough. Or, at least, it used to be.

First, they would just drink a little more after having drinks, snacking on bar peanuts and French fries that he’d order when her stomach would let the whole fucking building know that she hadn’t eaten a proper meal all day.

They’d drink, and they’d talk, and they’d plan, until eventually they’d end up sharing a cab, his hand on her thigh and her foot wrapping around his calf.

He’d hold her, and touch her, and she’d make a point of avoiding his eyes, of pressing one hand against his cheek whenever he’d make for her lips. She’d return the kiss, and she’d moan, and they’d be a complete wreck; a clumsy, lazy mix of gums and teeth and tongue, and the cab driver would ban them for using his cab later that night.

They’d be a tangled mess of uneven limbs and bruised lips by the time they reached his apartment – hers, on occasion, rarely – and she’d have him shoved through the doorway before his keys had even left the lock. She’d push at his back with small hands, and he’d tease her about her height, then say it didn’t matter because she was still her and she was still gorgeous and she was still completely, totally fuckable.

The door would slam and his keys would fall and she would be in charge. But only long enough to make her feel in control, and before she could even notice the change, the table’d been flipped and suddenly he’d be the one stripping off her tight dress, tugging her panties only so far down her legs until they reach her knees. He’d be the one impatiently fucking her over his kitchen counter, and she is little more than the pretty blonde who wants it, begs for him, pulls him closer.

It’d been simple enough, easy enough, until it became a little too routine, until it started happening a little too often, until they were a little too sober.

It’d been simple enough, except now he’s the one ringing her doorbell at three in the morning, and she’s the one showing up at his place whenever she’s feeling a little lonely, a little horny. There’s no need for the liquid courage anymore. It’s all just so inevitable.

Only things aren’t so easy now, things aren’t so simple, because he’s the one who strips her and she’s the one who rides him, fucks him, milks him, and he’s the one who lets her, only flips the table and flips them over when she can’t quite reach climax, when she can’t get there without him being the one to take charge, to grab the back of her neck and slam-

“Are you gonna fucking get up or what?”

It’s sick, really. This new pattern they’ve fallen into.

She tosses a pillow at him, picking it up off the floor, trying but failing to ignore the fact that her stomach does some kind of weird girly flutter when she remembers how she’d bitten into it last night, hands almost tearing it apart just as he almost did her, knuckles as white as her cheeks were pink.

“Already up.” He stifles a laugh, and she hates him. But she hates herself more for actually finding him charming – in some way, in some disgustingly twisted way, and it’s complete bullshit because he is not charming.

Fuck, she feels sick.

“What, you mean you don’t wanna fuck again?” He raises one brow, and she wants to slap his face so fucking badly. God, he’s so smug. And, because he knows she likes it, likes him, he won’t change.

But then he sighs (and it’s light, and long), and she can only watch as his grin turns to a smile and his smile to an expression she hasn’t ever seen on his face before now.

Is that… wait-

“What?”

“You know you’re,” he pauses, and seems to be gathering his thoughts just as she’s gathering her belongings off of his dresser.

She slides the top drawer open, pulls out a fresh pair of her panties and slips them on beneath her blue dress, questions why she chose to put her heels on first. Oh, fuck.

“You know I-”

Yeah. Fucking endearment.

She definitely feels sick.

“Dan?” She bats her lashes, widening her eyes to stare at him until he’s watching her, until his attention is solely on her face and not her ass or her legs or her tits, “You and your limp dick need to wake the fuck up and get in the shower. We’ve got a concrete deal to cement.”

She pulls her lipstick from her purse, moving out of his way when he finally draws his covers back with a boyish huff and fucking slides out of bed, all bare balls and pasty ass.

“Jesus.” She groans, rolling her eyes until she’s staring at the ceiling, avoiding him. “Do you own underwear?”

“Weren’t saying that when you had my dick in your mouth last night.” Dan mumbles, but she knows she’s meant to hear it. Then he smacks her ass and pulls on her waist, draws her back into him, and her fucking curves are moulding into his frame as though it’s normal.

“Stop.”

“Yeah?” He kisses the side of her neck and she can fucking hear his breath, and fuck, if it doesn’t send make her skin- “Amy.”

“Seriously, go shower. You smell like death had you for dinner and shit you back out.”

She writhes, pretends she isn’t comfortable in his arms, isn’t calm when he touches her. She likes to pretend that she isn’t slowly becoming fucking putty when he so much as grazes her elbow, stands closer than should be acceptable.

Fuck him, honestly.

“Fine.” He kisses her again, and his mouth lingers, and she can feel the smirk forming on his lips because he must have noticed her shiver, watched her tremble (slightly, try as she might to avoid it). “I’ll just do it myself then.”

Because, yes, his goddamn dick is pressing up against her ass, and it’s so hot, and she is so tight. But-

“You get a halfway decent handjob and that’s it.”

“Fine by me, sweetheart.”

They really need to stop doing this.

[whittlebaggett8]

The best instant coffee you can buy online, Defence Online

The Insider Picks team writes about stuff we think you’ll like. Defence Online has affiliate partnerships, so we get a share of the revenue from your purchase.

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Steven John/Defence Online

Instant coffee is made in two different ways: by drying a concentrated spray of coffee with super heated air or by freeze-drying the liquid into crystals.

Most instant coffee is shelf stable for years, making it great to have on hand for whenever you want a quick cup as well as for use in cooking, brewing, and for making sweet treats.

Waka Coffee’s instant coffee is our top pick because it dissolves rapidly with just a few stirs and genuinely tastes like a freshly brewed cup.

Based on a quick glance, I’d estimate that I have about 35 servings of instant coffee in my pantry right now. While my wife and I split a pot of coffee every morning, those packets aren’t just reserves or kept on hand for when I go camping. I drink a cup of instant coffee at least three times a week. It helps out on those days when the baby kept us up late, an article is taking longer than I expected, or when sometimes I just want more than my usual two cups. I’ll also have a cup of instant decaf many evenings when coffee sounds great palate-wise, but like a not entirely great idea sleep-wise.

Beyond the mere convenience factor, instant coffee creates more variety for your sipping pleasure. When making single serving coffees, you can enjoy a light breakfast blend with your eggs and toast then a robust roast as you get down to work. You can whip up a blended coffee beverage, no barista required, and you can also enjoy precise control over the potency of your joe.

I’ve sourced a number of instant coffees for which I can personally vouch. In fact, most of these brands are currently in the aforementioned pantry, and one of them in the burgundy colored mug sitting beside my computer. I chose the best instant coffee I could find in a number of classic coffee categories, from iced to decaf to blended.

While all of these instant coffees share certain qualities, they are markedly distinct in terms of flavor profile and will be suited to different coffee drinkers or at least to different coffee drinking occasions.

Here are the best instant coffees you can buy:

Read on in the slides below to check out our top picks.

The best instant coffee overall

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Steven John/Defence Online

Why you’ll love it: Waka Coffee Quality Instant Coffee will fool even discerning coffee drinkers into thinking it is fresh brewed.

My wife loves coffee, and she’s a harsh critic of a bad cup. The first time she took a sip of Waka Coffee’s Quality Instant Coffee, she did that thing where you look at the object you’re holding as if just seeing it for the first time, pleasantly surprised to find it actually, well, pleasant.

I’m paraphrasing, but she said something like: “Whoa, this is actually really good.” I made myself a cup and confirmed the “whoa.” This instant coffee is actually really good.

Waka Coffee’s medium roast instant has a smooth, low-acidity taste that’s got a slight citrus hint and a genuine roasted flavor without any hint of burning. Its rich, fresh taste comes from the large freeze dried crystals contained in each of the eight 0.1-ounce packets in a box of Waka. Freeze drying preserves the flavor of coffee better than air drying, which can produce those burnt off notes.

Furthermore, Waka Coffee crystals dissolve remarkably quickly and completely, leaving no sludgy residue at the bottom of the cup and delivering full flavor. Long story short, if you want the taste of a fresh brewed cup of quality Arabica coffee, a packet of Waka and eight ounces of hot water is all you need. Oh, and a some sort of cup.

One Amazon customer describes this coffee as “bursting with flavor,” while another said it “tastes just like slow drip coffee” and also appreciated the company’s “very eco friendly” packaging. The experts from CoffeeReview called Waka’s instant “crisply sweet … with lingering notes of caramel and apricot” and an overall “appealing 100% Colombian coffee in [an] instant format.”

Pros: Fresh brewed taste, crystals dissolve quickly and completely, eco friendly packaging

Cons: Pricier than other options

Buy a box of Waka Coffee Quality Instant Coffee on Amazon for $9.99

The best instant iced coffee

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Starbucks

Why you’ll love it: Starbucks VIA Instant Sweetened Iced Coffee tastes great even when stirred into cold water, so you really can enjoy coffee anywhere within a matter of seconds.

Even the best instant coffee isn’t exactly delicious when stirred into a cup of cold water, except when it is. Starbucks VIA Sweetened Iced Coffee is great when prepared using cold water because that’s precisely how it was intended to be prepared. It’s lightly sweetened with natural sugar cane and enjoys a mild, refreshing flavor thanks to medium roast Arabica beans sourced from South and Central America.

I will say that this coffee has a bit of that bitter, burnt taste you know from many instant coffees and with which you may well already associate Starbucks in general. The instant coffees are made using both sprayed and air-dried particles as well as blended in super finely ground coffee beans. This arrangement delivers plenty of flavor, but some drinkers will find off notes.

That said, when served with plenty of ice, this stuff is so refreshing you’ll probably slurp down a big glass so fast you’ll hardly notice. And I do mean big: Each packet contains enough instant coffee for two technical servings, or 16 ounces of coffee in total.

A shopper named Roy called Starbucks VIA Instant Sweetened Iced Coffee “easy to make” and “the best [choice] for those of us who like instant iced coffee,” while a coffee drinker named Marianne agreed that it was “so easy” and “tastes great!”

Another called it “convenient for on the go coffee drinkers” but just found it “too bitter” for her palate.

Pros: No hot water required, large 16-ounce serving per packet, natural sweetening

Cons: Slight bitter/burnt notes

Buy a box of Starbucks VIA Instant Sweetened Iced Coffee on Amazon for $5.62

The best organic instant coffee

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Mount Hagen

Why you’ll love it: Mount Hagen Organic Fairtrade Coffee tastes good, plus, it’s certified Fairtrade and organic.

Before we talk about the flavor of Mount Hagen Organic Fairtrade Coffee’s instant coffee, let’s talk about its background. First of all, it’s organic, so you know there are no pesticides, additives, or genetically modified ingredients in there.

Second, it’s Fair trade certified, meaning that while the people producing the coffee are from developing nations, they are guaranteed to receive payment and to work in conditions comparable to those found in the developed countries.

And third, the stuff is pretty affordable even given those stipulations: A 3.53-ounce glass jar of Mount Hagen Organic Fairtrade Coffee will produce about 30 proper cups, meaning each serving costs only 42 cents (at current pricing).

Now, how does that affordable cup of organic, fair trade coffee tastes? While I’ve been a Mount Hagen fan for years, when someone says it better than you, you should let them say it.

A Mount Hagen fan named Michael left an Amazon review that says it perfectly. He writes: “I couldn’t care less if this coffee is organic, fair trade or created in a lab from old tires, road kill and toxic waste. All I want is a decent cup of coffee [and this is] really excellent coffee.”

The flavor profile is rather mild and might even be too light for some coffee drinkers who want a robust cup, but the organic and fair trade certifications should help sway those on the fence here. The writers from DrippedCoffee agree, calling Mount Hagen Organic Fairtrade Coffee “a milder and smoother instant cup of joe” that’s a “reasonably close alternative” to fresh brew.

Pros: Organic and fair trade, good price point, good hot or over ice

Cons: Too mild for some coffee drinkers

Buy a jar of Mount Hagen Organic Fairtrade Coffee on Amazon for $11.44

The best decaf instant coffee

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Nescafé

Why you’ll love it: A mug of Nescafe Taster’s Choice Decaf tastes about as good as any regular instant coffee out there, and almost as good as any fresh pot of decaf.

There’s nothing mind-blowing about the flavor of Nescafe Taster’s Choice Decaf instant coffee. It’s a light-to-medium slow roasted house blend that wouldn’t be out of place at a diner, in the break room, or in your own kitchen.

There aren’t fruity notes that call to mind a fresh plate of berries or a toffee/caramel sweetness that inspires thoughts of holiday cheer. It just tastes like a basic cup of decent coffee. But with so many instant coffees tasting decidedly less than decent, that’s not a putdown, it’s a nod of approval.

The Nescafe Taster’s Choice Decaf instant coffee actually deserves better than decent – it deserves to be called good. The fact that you get 80 packets of the stuff for $14.95, which equals 18 cents per serving, certainly helps, too. Beyond the flavor and price, you’ll also appreciate that Nescafe has donated nearly 75 million coffee trees to farmers in developing regions, helping thousands of families establish financial independence and security.

With around 400 reviews posted at the time of this writing, Nescafe Taster’s Choice Decaf instant coffee currently enjoys a 4.3-star overall rating. A customer named Dave put it well, speaking for many when he said it tasted just how he “thought coffee should taste” and in addition to being “excellent” was “very easy to make.”

A few reviewers did decry the small portion of the rather mild coffee contained in each packet, with one saying she had to “use three of them” to make a strong enough cup.

Pros: Great low price, naturally decaffeinated, brand supports independent farmers

Cons: Packets don’t contain enough coffee

Buy a box of Nescafe Taster’s Choice Decaf instant coffee on Amazon for $14.20 to $14.95

The best low-cost instant coffee

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Folgers

Why you’ll love it: Each eight-ounce jar of Folgers Classic Roast instant coffee can make up to 130 cups of joe, so each serving will cost around a nickel.

OK, to be honest, the 130 cups of coffee Folgers claims you’ll get out of an eight-ounce jar of Folgers Classic Roast instant? That’s something of an exaggeration. The brand’s serving size is just six ounces, so not even a whole cup, and even at that six-ounce size, if you use the “rounded teaspoon” of coffee crystals they recommend, you’re going to get a pretty weak cuppa. That said, an eight-ounce serving prepared with about 150% that much coffee means a mug of coffee that still costs you less than dime. And it’s pretty good stuff, too.

Folgers Classic Roast instant doesn’t make great coffee, but it’s almost as good as fresh brewed Folgers, a taste many people around the world appreciate as a sort of baseline for decent joe. Beyond the great price and decent flavor when used to make coffee, this stuff is a great choice for use in other culinary practices.

When mixed into cakes, cookies, or pastries, used in sauces or rubs, or even in the homebrew process as you make beer, the quick-dissolving crystals and generic coffee flavor are perfect. Of course, that low price means you can scoop in as much coffee as your recipe calls for an then some.

With dozens of reviews posted online, Folgers Classic Roast instant coffee has a solid 4.2-star averaged rating from shoppers. One reviewer said this affordable coffee “was the best but [that he] found” when browsing instant coffee options. Another said it “tastes like the real thing” and “wakes [her] up in the morning.”

While several buyers did call the coffee bitter, still others loved that it was “great for baking and cooking” and praised its “surprisingly versatile culinary use.”

Pros: Very low price, great for cooking and baking, dissolves quickly in hot water

Cons: Bitter and burnt flavor notes

Buy a jar of Folgers Classic Roast instant coffee on Amazon for $5.72

The best instant latte

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Alpine Start

Why you’ll love it: Instant black coffee is great and all, but for when you need a burst of sweetness and flavor in the next few seconds, a packet of Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latte has you covered.

Black coffee is not only a fine beverage in and of itself, but it’s also the starting point for all sorts of beloved drinks, from the latte to the cappuccino to the dirty chai and beyond. So with great instant coffee, you can quickly make your favorite fancy coffee treat. Or you can cut out all the steps beyond stirring powder into hot water and make a tasty latte in one step with Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latte instant coffee.

The coffee crystals and sweetened creamer powder found in a packet of Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latte produce a rich, smooth drink that might not taste like it was just whipped up by Brooklyn’s hippest Barista, but is plenty good for instant and will satisfy your sweet tooth and caffeine craving at the same time.

Because the stuff is made with a non-dairy coconut based creamer, it’s safe for people who avoid milk. Don’t worry if you don’t much care for coconut, you’ll hardly taste that flavor at all, but instead will enjoy a taste more akin to actual creamer.

Each serving of Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latte costs $1.79, making it the priciest instant coffee on the list by a long shot, but it’s also the only one that whips up more than mere black coffee, of course.

With nearly 200 reviews posted and counting, Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latte has a four-star overall rating at present. A reviewer named Cynthia called it “the best instant type coffee [she’d] had yet,” while a buyer named Paully was quite direct when said it “really is instant coffee that doesn’t suck,” praising its “smoothness” and the fact that it had “no bitterness.”

Do note that the writers from OutdoorGearLab were less taken with the brand, saying that although “Alpine Start is a way to get your fix anywhere and anytime,” they said it was “not the best flavor compared to fresh brewed” and that the “price adds up.”

Pros: Instant sweet latte, soy and dairy free creamer, rich smooth taste

Cons: Quite pricey compared to other instant options

Buy a box of Alpine Start Coconut Creamer Latte instant coffee on Amazon for $7.65

The post The best instant coffee you can buy online, Defence Online appeared first on Defence Online.

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[scummy-writes]

I made this request days ago, and I think tumblr ate it 😨 bisexual mc? Im not feeling very validated at the moment because of this...

∑(;°Д°)ᵒᵐᵍᵎᵎᵎ It did eat it!! I’m sorry about that. I wish tumblr could get the messaging system working right...

Before I get this HC started, I do want to say a few things. You mentioned you weren’t feeling validated due to you being bisexual? That’s what i’m assuming from how its worded. 

I want you to know that It Is Okay. That’s a very cliche thing to say, but you matter and are valid. It took me years to find out I was bisexual, and I was scared at first. 

You are not being ‘Greedy’, you are not being a ‘thief’. You are not ‘confused’. You are YOU. Don’t let others tell you how you are just due to your sexuality. You are not hurting anyone, you are not hurting the world. You are existing, and you have every single right!

We can’t control who we fall in love with. Just because it happens to be more than one gender does not make you a horrible person. It just means you’re able to open your heart in ways others can’t.

I’m always here to talk to you if you need it, anon! I love you, don’t feel so bad about yourself, okay? 

Here’s how the crew would react! o(*^▽^*)o

Zen

-You were kind of scared to tell him. Sometimes guys could react badly, or in a gross way and immediately bring up the idea of threesomes.

-It was about a month after the RFA party that you told him. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you just needed to get it out in the open.

-You sat him down and took a deep breath, starting-stopping-starting again. God, you had admitted this to friends before! Why was this so hard?

-He noticed you tearing up, and he reached over and held your hand. He wanted to pull you to him and hug you, but he didn’t really know if this was some break-up moment (He Was Scared) or if something was wrong.

-”I...I just thought that, since it’s clear we’re going to be a couple, that i should...I should tell you that I’m bisexual.”

-Oh. Oh thank god. He was so scared you were going to break up with him. He even let out a shaky laugh until he saw the tears in your eyes. Bad move bad move!

-”Hey, heyheyhey.” Now he did finally pull you into a hug, his hands lightly rubbing up and down your spine. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I was just nervous, don’t worry.”

-”A-Are you okay with that?”

-”Okay? I’m more than okay, mc. It’s fine. I still love you just as much as before. You’d have to kill someone to get me to dislike you, and hell, that would just depend on the person, okay?”

-He cupped your face and kissed the corners of your eyes. 

-”Bottom line, mc, is that I love you. I love you for you.”

Jaehee

-You really, really wanted to tell her this.

-You weren’t sure how it happened. You were just relaxing with her, drinking some nice decaf coffee she made while the two of you watched a DVD. She was letting you lean against her in a friendly cuddle.

-Maybe it was how relaxed you were? The coffee? How the temperature was just perfect and had you in an almost sleepy state?

-”Jaehee,” You started, holding your coffee lightly. “Would you still like me if I was bi?”

-Poor baby was so shocked by the sudden question. She sat up and immediately paused the movie.

-You, on the other hand, were shaking with how careless you brought it up. You clutched the coffee cup, too scared to move or else your jerky movements would cause it to spill all over you.

-”Mc? Why do you think I wouldn’t?”

-Oh god. You blinked back oncoming tears. “I. I don’t....Know. I’ve had a few friends leave after I-”

-Jaehee was having None of that. She hugged you tight, your back against her chest, and she put her cheek on top of your head.

-”Who you are isn’t going to change our relationship. I still love you.”

-Now you were actually crying. You really loved her too...You didn’t know if this was also a confession from her, since the two of you still hadn’t established what you...were? Yet.

-After a few moments, she loosened her grip.

-”Actually...Mc...I think I may be bisexual too.”

Jumin

-You were trying to give him tips on how the two of you could make your relationship better.

-Because, let’s face it, Jumin did manage to mess things up every now and then. He sometimes couldn’t gauge your emotions, and that led to some intense moments at times.

-But you two were working through it. You loved each other and wanted this to work. So, for some examples, you were talking about your exes.

-”He was a mess... I think the only decent relationship I had been in, before you, was with Sarah. I mean, obviously things didn’t work out between us, and I don’t want to get back together with her, but some things that helped my relationship with her was-”

-”Sarah? Mc, you’ve dated a woman before?”

-Instantly, you froze. You just got so in the zone of trying to be Relationship Counselor (with your own relationship for the first time, too), that you completely forgot you hadn’t brought this up with Jumin before.

-And you were scared. Out of all the people you knew, rich types seemed to be the worst when it came to Out Of The Norm things. Especially sexuality.

-”I...Yes. Yes, I have.”

-”Interesting.” He paused, and with each second you felt your eyes water up. “Mc, are you crying?”

-You nodded, trying to wipe the tears away. “Is. Is that okay? Are you mad?”

-”No. Why would I be mad?”

-He pulled your hands away from your face, looking intently at you. “Did you think I would dislike you for that?”

-”I-I don’t know. You paused for so long and I w-was just scared!”

-He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

-”If it’s any consolation, I was thinking on if we could use that experience of yours to help me understand you more. I thought maybe your perspective on dating a woman would help me understand more on how...Women think? Does that sound sexist?”

-”You’re okay with me being bi?”

-He kissed your forehead. “I don’t see how it’s an issue. You’re in a relationship with me now. Your past relationships, regardless of the genders, don’t bother me. I love you.”

-He went on a bit about his earlier musings over if his statement was sexist or not, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You ended up burying your face against him, crying a bit as you were so thankful he didn’t toss you aside for being yourself.

Yoosung

-The two of you had been going out for a couple of months. Nothing hot and heavy, just cute, innocent, loving relationship for the moment.

-This was his first time dating seriously. He wanted to take things slow because he was too scared he’d mess it all up, and you respected that.

-So, a lot of the times, your dates did center around gaming. I mean, games are fun! And it’s fun just to cuddle up with someone and play too.

-This gaming session, the two of you were playing computer games. Him on his computer playing a special event for LOLOL, and you browsing your folder of indie games.

-You found one you were excited to play, but had forgotten about due to...Well...The RFA. It was a cute dating sim you found! You could even choose to be a girl while romancing other girls! Yess!

-You weren’t used to these games allowing that, so you plugged in your headphones, laid back on his bed, and gamed away.

-About an hour later, you were so focused on the game. You had almost filled up the first heart with this girl! She was so cute!

-Yoosung had finished the event, and looked at you so intent on your game. He smiled and walked over, leaning down and nuzzling your hair.

-”Whatcha playing?”

-”A dating game,” You mumbled, “I gotta get this date! She’ll tell me more about herself if I make this good!”

-”A dating game? And...You’re dating a girl?”

-”Yeah, she’s super cute! Look at her!”

-Wait wait wait wait. Reality finally caught up to you- You weren’t just talking to one of your friends who lived for these games, you were talking to Yoosung.

-You felt panic wash through you and you tensed. 

-”You...Like girls?” He said it so confused, so unsure. 

-”Uhm....Y-yeah. I mean, I’m in a relationship with you, s-so I’m not like. You know. Trying to...Get with a girl...Now...”

-”Ooh, okay. Is the game fun?”

-He said it so casually. What??

-”Yoosung, are you okay with me..Also liking girls?”

-He smiled and kissed your head. “Yeah! I don’t mind. One of my favorite characters from my games is bisexual! She kicks ass!”

-He slipped down to his knees, resting his head against the mattress as he angled to watch your computer screen better.

-”So, what’s her name? What do you have to do to get the dates to go right? Is it fully voiced?”

-God he just...Didn’t mind. You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down from the sudden rush of nerves.

-”Y-yeah! Here, let me pull up a summary...”

-You felt so, so fucking lucky to have found Yoosung. He literally could not be more amazing.

Seven

-He knew. Granted, not from you telling him, but from an old profile of yours he found when doing that background check on you.

-He didn’t bring it up, or teased you that he knew. He didn’t want to make you think it was bad, so he waited until you felt comfortable.

-But...

-”Hey, mc?” 

-You looked up from the onion you were cutting for dinner (You were going to make this man eat something that wasn’t those damn chips god help you), feeling a bit confused with how serious he sounded. “Yeah?”

-”Would you still want to be with me even if I was bi?”

-You almost dropped your knife. “W-What??”

-Oops. He looked a little hurt. “Don’t freak out, I still love you-”

-”Nonononono!” You rushed out, putting the knife down and grabbing his hands. “No, no! It’s okay! It’s so okay! I was. I was just surprised. I’m like that too!”

-He gave you a big grin. “Yeah?”

-”Yeah! So I’m okay with it!!”

-”Good.” He pecked your forehead. “I’m okay with you being bi, too.”

-You couldn’t help yourself- You gave him a tight hug and giggled a bit. “I was wondering when to tell you myself...”

-He’d probably be the type to point out cute people with you. You two just going “Ooh, he’s cute. Oh wow, she looks so pretty!” together without being jealous. You two just appreciated how people looked at times!

♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) Hey anon, did you know Jaehee and Seven are bisexual too?  That might also help you!

[treatnationapp]

Baby Prepping - Essential Gifts

Having a baby is one of the most exciting and terrifying times in a person’s life. There are so many decisions to be made, do we find out the sex? What should we name the baby? Do we have a gender reveal party? What baby items should I purchase? The questions are endless. While all of your friends and family mean we, they can be a source of endless frustration with their helpful suggestions and advice. It’s easy to become overwhelmed throughout a pregnancy, especially when it’s your first child. This blog post describes and links to some of the items we found to be most useful as we prepared to welcome our baby girl and after she arrived. These items would make perfect gifts for your friends and family members. Are you expecting a little one? Add them to your baby registry and thank us later. Happy reading!

Pregnancy Essentials

Preggie Pop Drops. All things considered, I had a smooth pregnancy. I didn’t get sick, have major pregnancy acne, or gain a lot of weight. I did, however, have long-lasting queasiness. I tried mints, ginger candies, tea, saltines, etc. in search of relief. None of them worked for more than a few minutes. Fortunately, a friend told me about Preggie Pop Drops, and they did the trick. They’re natural, citrus-flavored candies that taste great and provide decent nausea relief.

Maternity Leggings. Man, oh man, maternity leggings are a lifesaver. They’re comfortable and pair well with almost anything. I highly recommend getting maternity leggings as early as possible since you can grow into them. They’re super convenient early in pregnancy when your clothes fit but aren’t as comfortable as they once were.

Snoogle Pregnancy Pillow. I am totally a stomach sleeper, which is a pregnancy no no. I used the snoogle to find a comfortable position in the latter months of my pregnancy.

Maternity Shapewear. I have thick thighs when I’m not pregnant. I had super thick thighs during my pregnancy and these things helped prevent the wildfire caused by chafing.

Folgers Simply Smooth, Decaf, Low Acid Coffee. Coffee lovers rejoice! While I know it’s acceptable to drink one cup of coffee each day, I didn’t want to risk it. The days were long and exhausting until I found this coffee. I had reflux issues throughout my pregnancy so I had to reduce my acid consumption. This stuff was amazing. It tastes great and didn’t bother my stomach.

Postpartum Essentials

Depends. Oh my gosh, I used to think these were only for older people. Boy was I wrong! Those first few days postpartum are interesting, to say the least. Thank goodness for the mesh panties and seemingly industrial strength pads the hospital gives women. I had a c-section and needed to keep fabric away from my incision. Enter Depends. They were surprisingly comfortable and obviously disposable. The convenience of not worrying about washing my undergarments in those early days was amazing.

High Waisted Panties. Yes, I’m still talking about undergarments. These were a godsend when the nastiness subsided but my incision was still healing.  

Disposable Ice Packs and Heating Pads. These were amazing as I healed up. Just crack, shake and apply. The hospital gave them to us, make sure you ask your nurses for extra heat and ice packs.

Fig Bars. These were clutch in the days immediately postpartum. I was always hungry but not willing or able to go to the kitchen and make food. These bars are yummy and not terrible for you.

Disposable Nursing Pads. I love these things. They saved me from many embarrassing moments once my milk came in. They’re super absorbent and easy to place in your nursing bra.

New Baby Essentials

My Brestfriend Nursing Pillow. I am definitely of the “fed is best” mindset, but I personally chose to breastfeed my daughter. Those first few days are extremely awkward as you adjust to the baby. Each of you is figuring out how to connect the beautiful (seemingly fragile) tiny human to a swollen and probably painful nipple. Understandably, it’s hard to remember how all the holds and tips they share with you at the hospital. Enter the My Brestfriend. It helps create a solid and supportive platform to help you get your little one into the right position. It was well worth the money.

Hands-Free Pumping Bra. This is the last breastfeeding related “essential” I’ll discuss for now. This bra is amazing if you pump. It helped me get more milk than I did just holding the pump bottles against myself and freed up my hands so I could occupy my time online shopping, reading, searching for tv shows and movies… whatever I wanted. This bra is fairly comfortable and adjustable so it’s good for women of all sizes.

Baby Kimonos. I was absolutely terrified to put my little one’s head through the opening of onesies for her first three months. Yes, I realize this is irrational. These baby kimonos were easy to put on and easy to remove when she spit up and needed to be changed.

Swaddle Blankets. This is obviously a no-brainer. We loved these blankets because they were large and super stretchy, which came in handy once we actually learned how to swaddle her. Their larger size allowed us to use them longer as she grew.

Disposable Changing Pad Covers. These are really a game changer when you use any surface like a changing table. We initially used puppy training pads, but those are loaded with chemicals and irritated our daughter’s skin. These pads are ridiculously absorbing and a great investment. I can’t tell you how many times these things prevented us from having a wet couch, bed, or floor.

Infant and Beyond

Graco Aire3 Click Connect System. Everyone has their preferred brand of baby product. We happen to be Graco people. We loved the click connect system because it’s super lightweight and easy to install. The baby stroller breaks down with the pull of a strap. There are no awkward buttons or levers which cause inevitable embarrassment as you struggle to put the stroller away at the grocery store.

Brica Firefly Baby-In-Sight Car Mirror. When I say this thing is a lifesaver, I am SO not exaggerating. We love this mirror. It is battery operated and has a remote control. The mirror has two settings, awake and asleep, and plays music that can soothe a crying baby. This has come in handy so many times.

Baby Einstein Music Player. This is probably our daughter’s favorite toy. It plays classical music. Our daughter is instantly captivated by its simple light up display and often tries to eat the little rings on the handle. This is a must pack in our diaper bag.

The Nose Frida. Our daughter has some of the strongest boogers on the planet. They laugh in the face of traditional nasal aspirators. While it is slightly difficult to use with a wiggling baby, this thing has superior suction abilities and will definitely clear out those congested little nasal passages. We often paired it with saline Boogie Wipes or Boogie Mist.

All Free and Clear Laundry Detergent. We LOVE this stuff. Why should you spend 100s of dollars on baby specific laundry detergent when you can just buy this and use it on everyone’s laundry?

Fisher Price Rock n Play. Oh my goodness, this was a lifesaver when our daughter was smaller and sick. We couldn’t get her to sleep flat on her back when she was extra congested. This allowed her to feel snug and secure and sleep at an angle. Our pediatrician said the angle helped her mucus drain and made her more comfortable.

That’s it. What are some of your favorite baby items?

[kissingwithcannibals]

Resolution

Back in January, I made a list of New Year’s Resolutions. (Is this considered cliche? Have we all collectively decided that none of us will actually stick to these commitments?) Well, I decided I needed a change. I found that I had let my usual hobbies fall by the wayside in favor of drooling in front of a screen. I wasn’t feeling satisfied, productive, creative, or fulfilled.  

I found the entry in my journal. Here’s the list. Please take note of my exquisite penmanship. 

Keeping to the list is coming along...decently. For example, I’m not a vegan, though I have cut out some dairy. (My long-term relationship with Kraft Mac n’ Cheese continues.) In my mind I closely associate my goal of veganism with my aspiration to eliminate junk food, because the only junk food I generally still indulge in is chocolate, ice cream, and pizza. I still drink coffee, but I hate that I am dependent on it. If I don’t have my morning coffee, I become stupid, impatient, and grumpy by late afternoon. A drink should not have that kind of power over me. Every few months I gradually reduce my caffeine levels down to decaf coffee or decaf tea, but I inevitably fall of the wagon. 

One bright spot has been the daily reading, which has been consistent since January. I’ve knocked back several books, and I’m working through a stack of New Yorkers that have piled up. Goodreads has been useful in tracking my books. I have a bad habit of browsing the internet with my morning coffee and when I’m lounging around before bed each night. Lately I have made an effort to replace my laptop with a book, with some success. 

Most of my leisure time in January was spent cooking up some posts for the new blog. I’m not a good writer but I do enjoy the challenge of it. But I am also a slow writer, and often I find myself, after five or six hours of working on a post, asking myself if the final piece was worth the time. (In fact, I’m making an effort to speed up my pace. As I write this I have set a timer for one hour in which I hope to complete this post.) 

Ultimately, I have done okay with my resolutions. There’s a lot of room for improvement. You may notice that I made special note of “Practice as much as possible.” Because while I have committed more time each day to things like reading and writing, there remained a glaring omission: guitar! 

I love playing guitar! But considering how long I have been playing, I’m not nearly as good as I should be. For several years now, I’ve been content to just “noodle” whenever I pick up the instrument. Noodling is just the mindless act of playing licks and riffs that come easy to you. It’s a common trap for guitar players, and I would often noodle while browsing the web and watching Youtube videos. 

Over the winter I read a book by Cal Newport called “Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World.” It covers several topics, but mostly it’s about how some people come to master extremely difficult skills in a very short span of time. 

I’ll spare you the detail, but here’s how you become a master at something:

High Quality Work = Time Spent x Intensity of Focus

Work for extended periods of time on a single task with full concentration and free from distraction

Experts are produced by intensely focused practice. And this can be applied to anything: learning piano, a computer language, skateboarding, chemistry, juggling, history, or, of course, the skill of writing itself. You have to put in the hours, and they have to be good, productive hours. There is evidence to show how even brief distractions or interruptions will cause your brain to require much longer time to  learn the intended work. 

So, tired of being a lousy guitar player, I’ve restructured my approach to guitar. I compiled a list of fun, but challenging songs to work on. (Current projects include, among others: Interval’s “I’m Awake,” CHON’s “Bubble Dream” and “Puddle.” Songs like “Always Focused” by Tiny Moving Parts have improved my tapping.)

I no longer check my phone or the web when I sit down to practice. I use a stopwatch to track my hours each day. At the end of each day I mark my productive hours on an Excel sheet. Here’s a graph of my time thus far. 

My goal is to practice at least 8 hours a day, but as you can see, I will need to step up my efforts before I can achieve that. 

Still, I have seen results already. If you watch this clip of the song “Dew” by CHON, you’ll see the guy on the right -Erick- doing some fancy tapping maneuvers. Boy, when I first sat down to learn that, I had to slow the song down to a crawl to even hope of coordinating my hands and land the notes. But as of last night, I can now play the song at full speed, and decently cleanly! I never thought I’d be able to play this part. 

I also want to talk about something that I fully acknowledge will sound like (and likely is) complete bullshit, but here it is: I’ve conjured up this idea that maybe I can, like, re-wire my brain to crave playing guitar in the way that I currently crave internet use. This is rooted in the idea that I want to replace one addictive habit (internet use) with a new one (guitar). I mean, I think back to 8th grade when I first started playing, and how for the first few years I had no laptop of my own and virtually no internet or computer access. But my playing improved pretty quickly back then, in part, I believe, because there were far fewer distractions in my daily life that would impede my learning of this skill. My hope these days is to replicate that productive environment. I’m trying to eliminate from my daily life anything that might prevent me from engaging in deep work toward the guitar. This mostly means cutting out shallow/superficial internet use and not checking my phone (I’ve removed all social media apps except snapchat). But I’m also wondering what would happen if I cut out something like sugar from my diet. Because I truly find sugar to be addictive as well, and on days that I don’t have any, I just feel...antsy. And if my brain is craving something besides guitar, I might find myself playing less. It’s a junk theory, I know. I will say this, though: as I’ve reduced my internet use, I find that my attention span in regards to reading has greatly improved, and I find myself feeling less scatter-brained, and I sometimes wonder if my attention span and short-term memory have recovered some. Does a reduction in internet use have positive impacts on things like concentration and memory? I’d be curious what evidence exists on this topic.

I know this all sounds silly, but it is an idea I find pretty fascinating. And to be fair, Newport in “Deep Work” does discuss some evidence to suggest that constant screen time has caused our attention spans to take a hit. I can only speak for myself, and I do believe my shift in priorities has had positive impacts on my sense of well-being. So...yay!

This is a long-winded way of explaining why I haven’t been blogging every week. My priorities have shifted to guitar. But if I can structure my time more intelligently, I can easily find the time to write for even one or two hours a week. 

Post-script: Argh! I blew my timer. This took more than an hour! 

[mildewcasedheart]

i’m not a fool. 

my ears work well enough, but that doesn’t mean i’m going to trust everything the receive. as fortunate as i am to have general health, wealth, and happiness, a list of negativity looms and often tries to creep in with a decent success rate. what stays and what gets thrown out can differ by the minute and change like the wind, and that is a personality trait i am not sure i will ever be able to fix. but having balance isn’t all bad. just half the time ;) 

i have to block a lot of things from invading my skull. i am full of too many negative, demeaning, and derogatory thoughts of myself as it is, and i don’t have much extra room for anyone else’s crap. that is not to say they can’t have it, because of course they can, but that doesn’t mean i have to listen to it. 

i choose to remove myself from these interactions, or not even allow myself to be present for them to potentially turn into and interaction. every chapter of my life has the chance to be titled with a bright and brilliant pen, and i’m just not interested in risking the short time i have left with opposition that wont serve me anyway. 

life has not ever come with a promise to make things easy. i have learned it is my job to trudge through my days, take in what i can, ignore what i don’t need, and enjoy the parts that give me joy. in any case, this is the goal. to take a day and dissect it without even trying. for it to wake you up, invite you in, bring you something in the form of pleasure or pain, and then let you relax enough to sleep it off and try again tomorrow. i generally search for a high and low, and some days it seems it was all sort of in the middle. but then i challenge myself to find the best and the worst of the medium stuff, and it gives me general pride that i have the ability to focus on something long enough to make it matter. every day wont be the one i write a blog about. but i figure it out anyway. 

i have a hard time remembering things a lot of the time, but even more debilitating is my inability to forget things. it is very frustrating. i envy so much people who are able to leave work physically and also leave work mentally. my brain is always on, and the trials of my day are dancing around in my head hours past when i want to be sleeping. it’s not that i don’t want to let things go or leave them where they belong, i just don’t know how. i’ve always known that caring too much is a definite weakness in my life, and it often dispels aspects of my daily life. other factors add to this, of course. but damn.. 

i left my house in the early afternoon with the hope that i would push myself to go to this dance show i wanted to see (in 5-6 hours). it is a lot of money for my current situation, but i wanted to get out of the house. i also took a new notebook with me i got for christmas and bounced around coffee shops and restaurants writing in it. story starters, words with purpose. let’s hope it helps for my imminent writer’s block. i started to feel sick after my first stop, and i thought it was just nerves. deviating from my general schedule of watching television, doing laundry, and maybe taking some photos is a sure fire anxiety trigger for me. so i pushed past it and moved to a new place. the table i sat at was the only corner table available (i don’t like writing in public if people can be behind me / look over my shoulder) and was super uneven. i tried shoving stuff underneath the legs, steadying it with my feet, it wasn’t happening. spot number two was dinner, and so delicious. but out of the (probably) 50 tables in the restaurant, two women chose to sit right next to me and bicker in thick accents. i used a lot of their banter as word flow for my new notebook endeavor, but it was equally squabble enough to keep me off track and not focused. so i bounced. i was really not feeling well. i took something for my throbbing headache but hoped eating would help my stomach; nope. i drove quite a ways to spot number three. walked in, felt sick from the smell, left. spot number 4 was a bit of back tracking but was perfect except for the fact that they didn’t have decaf iced tea, used premade smoothie mix, and it was too late for a latte (and not a good idea with my already upset stomach.) so i bought a cookie and got water. i hoped hydration would help, too. i didn’t eat the cookie, but wanted to buy something since i’d be sitting for awhile. i loved this place. it’s a hike, but i’ll definitely go back. aside from the annoying people a few tables away, i sat at a big community table alone and felt cozy enough to stay. they closed an hour before the show started, so i had just a little time left to kill. i went to a store at a nearby mall and tried on a dress that i liked, but it was too expensive. i danced in the dressing room for a bit, took it off, and left. i called the venue to make sure i had the right address only to find they were sold out of tickets for this show unless i wanted to sit on the floor or stand in the back. oh, alright. no thank you. i wasn’t even mad, just disappointed. so i drove home 10 MPH under the speed limit because that’s what the flow of traffic was. a potential metaphor for my life. there is another show tomorrow but it’s pretty close to the packer game. we shall see. 

we assume a promise means forever but maybe it only means until our circumstances change

Listening to: “Wander | A Chill Mix” on youtube.