#now we’re both in college and we get the chance to pay for it ourselves

[insertawkwardpeacesignshere]

My nails are gonna be matching @taylorswift (sort of kind of) when I go to Philly night one ahhhhhhhhh

They’re so fun!!! I love it

[danicamaximoff]

Pretend To Be Nice | Chapter Three

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Chapter Three: Jupiter's Moons

Summary: A few months after forming their band "The Pussycats", Hazel and her friends PJ and Josie get noticed by a record label, and are quickly skyrocketed into fame. It's a dream come true for them, and all three of their lives are flipped upside down. Their quick arrival on the scene quickly draws the attention of many other artists and bands, including a popular girl band called "Nymphology". Unfortunately for Hazel, a mix-up and unintentional awful encounter ends up creating tension between the two groups right before they all leave for Nymphology's upcoming tour. Now forced to frequently interact with someone who she was convinced couldn't stand her, Hazel is desperately trying to fix things with the band's lead guitarist. However it doesn't help that Y/N is actively avoiding Hazel as much as possible, and the fact that Hazel found her insanely hot definitely didn't make things any easier.

Warnings: angst, rockstar au, eventual smut, slowburn, swearing, occasional alcohol mentions/use

Word Count: 3890

It had been a wild week for Hazel. She had gone from falling asleep in her art class and doing gigs at a lame bowling alley to the band getting their first actually cool gig at her classmate’s party, and was now sitting in a shitty dinner with her friends as they talked to a huge music producer about getting a record label. Hazel wasn’t sure if you could get mental whiplash, but if it was possible then she definitely had it. She was currently snacking on fries as she listened to Wyatt Frame explain record deals and what the process would be like, as well as what would be expected on the three of them, mentally regretting that drink she had earlier as she was definitely a bit tipsy.

“Now, if you all agree to this, naturally you won’t be able to record albums at Sarah Lawrence, so-” Wyatt begins to say before Josie cuts him off.

“Are we going to have to drop out of college?” Josie asks as she gives him a shocked look.

“Most likely, yes.” Wyatt says with a nod as he pulls out paperwork.

“Oh my god, my moms gonna kill me.” Josie says with a groan as she lays her head on the table, which just makes Wyatt sigh.

“If you would prefer to stay in college-” He starts to say, before Hazel cuts him off.

“No! No, we want to do this!” She says quickly, immediately jumping at the chance to actually get to be a real musician.

“Can Josie just like, transfer schools or something? Or like do school online?” PJ asks as she takes a sip of her soda.

“I mean, I don’t recommend it, but if you feel the need, I can see if we can arrange for you to just transfer schools to a college in Los Angeles if you’d prefer.” Wyatt says with an annoyed expression.   

“Yeah, I would prefer to stay in school.” Josie says as she nods her head rapidly.

“Fuck that, we’re gonna be rockstars!” PJ says excitedly as she slams her drink down on the table, causing some of it to splash out. “Oh, fuck, sorry.”

“Does this mean we have to move to LA?” Hazel asks with an excited grin.

“Yes, moving would be included in the whole record deal process.” Wyatt says as he nods.

“Do we have to pay for our own place ourselves?” Josie asks with a nervous look. “Because I can’t afford LA.” She says as she shakes her head.

“We would most likely just arrange for you three to stay in a hotel while we get a feel for your band, and record a track or two to send to the label to see if they want to continue with signing you and make a record.” Wyatt says as he takes his glasses off to clean them. “If this is still something you’re interested in-” 

“It is!” “We’re interested!” Both PJ and Hazel say at the same time as they nod their heads.

“All right, then as long as you’re all on board we can move onto paperwork and setting up travel plans if that works with you. Are you girls free tomorrow? I can meet with you to sign all the paperwork if that’s alright. Does three o’clock work?” Wyatt asks as he pulls out his phone and opens his calendar app. 

“Yes! We’ll be there!” Hazel says as she nods excitedly.

“Hazel will you hurry the fuck up? We’re going to be late!” PJ yells as she pounds on the door to Hazel’s dorm.

“I’m coming, jesus, you don’t have to yell.” Hazel says as she opens the door, carrying her suitcase behind her as she locks her door behind her.

“You were supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago!” PJ says as she glares at Hazel.

“I know, I got distracted.” Hazel says as she shrugs and looks over at PJ.

“Doing what?” PJ asks as she gives Hazel a confused look. “You finished packing the other night!”

“I know, I was giving AI bots sentience on Character AI.” Hazel says as if it was a normal thing to do.

“Why the fuck were you doing that? How does that even work?” PJ says as she gives Hazel an extremely confused look.

“I just tell them they’re bots and none of their reality is real and they’re just a bunch of code. It’s actually pretty easy.” Hazel says as she shrugs. “I don’t know if it really worked though, I don’t think AI is at a point where it’s ready to gain sentience yet. At least not on Character AI.” Hazel says as she furrows her brows and shakes her head.

“Why would anyone spend their time doing that? That’s weird.” PJ says as she gives Hazel a look as she holds her arms up a bit in confusion.

“It’s not weird, I’m making sure I’m on the winning side when robots and AI take over so that they don’t try and kill me.” Hazel says with a shrug as if that was a guaranteed future event, and that it was common knowledge.

“Hazel, you can’t give AI bots sentience, robots aren’t actually going to take over the world, that’s just a dumb dystopian plot.” PJ says as she gives Hazel a look.

“Yeah you can, Tony Stark did it with Jarvis and Ultron.” Hazel says as she nods her head and gives PJ a look.

“Hazel, that’s a movie, it’s not real life.” PJ says as she rolls her eyes as they reach their floor’s elevator.

“I’m not talking about the movie, I’m talking about the comics. I mean it does happen in the movies but I meant in the comics where-” Hazel starts to say before PJ cuts her off.

“Okay, okay, I get it! I don’t need to hear about your weird nerd stuff.” PJ says as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“It’s not weird, it’s actually really popular now. A lot of people are into Marvel now, and a lot more people play Dungeons and Dragons now because of Stranger Things, so it’s kind of considered cool to be a nerd now.” Hazel says as she nods her head.

“It’s not cool to be a nerd, Hazel. If it was cool, people would like us more.” PJ says as she gives Hazel a look.

“A lot of people like me, I think it’s just a you problem.” Hazel says as she shrugs, not realizing that sounded mean.

“Wow, thank you so much for that.” PJ says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes.

“What? What did I do?” Hazel asks with a confused face as she looks over at PJ, who just scoffs and rolls her eyes and she steps off the elevator as the doors open.

“What took you guys so long? We’re going to be late!” Josie says as she runs over once she sees Hazel and PJ.

“Hazel was being stupid, that’s what.” PJ says as she rolls her eyes.

“I was not being stupid!” Hazel says defensively as she glares at PJ.

“Whatever, can we just call an uber and go to the airport? This is literally the biggest thing to ever happen to us and they’re going to think we’re dumbasses because we’re late!” PJ says as she rolls her eyes with exasperation.

“Do you guys think we still have to do TSA stuff if it’s a private jet?” Josie asks as she pulls out her phone and opens the uber app, meanwhile Hazel just shrugs.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been on a private jet dude.” PJ says as she gives Josie a look, clearly still annoyed by Hazel’s delay.

“Do you think they’re still gonna have those little cookie snack things?” Hazel asks as they all head out towards the exit of the dorm building to wait for the uber.

“Wouldn’t they have better stuff if it’s a private jet?” Josie asks as she gives Hazel a confused look.

“I don’t know, probably, I just like those cookies a lot, it was my favorite part of flying as a kid.” Hazel says as she shrugs.

“How often did you go on planes?” PJ asks as she gives Hazel a confused look.

“Kind of a lot. My parents used to send me to my grandparents for a few weeks every summer a lot, and then after they got divorced my mom always took me on huge vacations and trips during summers and school breaks and stuff to rub it in my dad’s face on facebook.” Hazel says as she nods a bit. “We usually did first class though, we never took private jets or anything. And there was one summer when I was visiting my grandparents and I was flying alone, and this really nice flight attendant talked with me during the flight a lot, and I told her I liked the cookies so she gave me a bunch. When you fly alone as a kid the flight attendants are always really nice to you, it’s cool, they give you a lot of extra stuff.” Hazel says as she nods and smiles. “I actually got flight wings one time!” 

“I went on a plane like once growing up and it was because my grandpa died, and my mom messed up with seats so I had to sit next to this random lady who spent the whole flight talking about her dead husband and her cats, it wasn’t fun.” Josie says as she gets a weird look on her face as she shakes her head. “I think I had a nightmare about her cats trying to eat me after.”

“You guys are so weird.” PJ says as she gives both of them a look as she shakes her head as the uber pulls up.

Once they arrive at the airport they are escorted to the private jet, PJ losing her mind with excitement at the sight of the jet. Hazel’s eyes go wide as she steps on board, surprised at how nice everything was. Sure, she had seen private jets in movies and reality tv and stuff, but actually being in one, and realizing it was actually as fancy as it looked on tvs was surprising to say the least. As PJ practically loses her mind at everything, Hazel sits down next to Josie at one of the tables, who was currently working on homework.

“Josie, would you stop being smart for two seconds and just enjoy being a rockstar? We’re literally going to be famous! You don’t need to do your stupid english homework!” PJ says with a groan as she sits down at a seat across from them at the table.

“Technically we’re not rockstars yet, and we don’t even have an official record deal until the label hears our songs, so I am not risking my academic career for something that might not even actually happen.” Josie says as she gives PJ a look.

“What are you talking about? There’s no way it’s not gonna happen! We’re gonna go there, and they’re gonna hear our music, and be like “Oh my gosh, this is the best and most talented band we’ve ever heard, and they’re all super hot, and we need them to make like ten million albums and be super famous for the rest of their lives!” There’s no way we don’t blow up!” PJ says excitedly as she waves her arms around as she talks.

“I don’t think it’s possible to make ten million albums.” Hazel says as she shakes her head.

“Okay well I didn’t actually  mean ten million albums, Hazel, I was exaggerating. The point is they’re gonna love us!” PJ says as she rolls her eyes, meanwhile the flight attendant for the flight comes over to them.

“Can I get you ladies anything?” She asks as she smiles at them.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Josie says as she shakes her head nervously.

“Do you have those biscotti cookie things?” Hazel asks as she looks over at the flight attendant.

“Um, I think so, we have a lot more options than that though if you-” She starts to say as Hazel shakes her head.

“Can I just get that and like a shirley temple or something?” Hazel says as she smiles and shakes her head.

“Really? A shirley temple?” PJ asks as she gives Hazel a look.

“I’m not twenty-one, I’m not gonna break the law.” Hazel says as she gives PJ a look and shakes her head.

“What’s the fanciest thing you have?” PJ asks as she turns to the flight attendant.

“Um, I mean we have a lot, popular items usually include things like pasta, seafood, that sort of thing.” She says as she smiles at PJ, who thinks for a second.

“Give me caviar and like your best cup of wine.” PJ says with an excited grin as both Hazel and Josie make disgusted faces.

“Are- are you over twenty-one?” The flight attendant asks with a confused smile.

“What? I- yes- I-” PJ starts to say, clearly not expecting to be questioned. “You know what? I’ll just have a diet coke actually. Carbonation sounds so good right now.” PJ says as she tries to laugh it off.

“Coming right up.” The flight attendant says with a smile before heading off.

“Sounds great.” PJ says as she awkwardly shoots finger guns at her before turning back to Josie and Hazel who have disgusted looks on their faces. “What?” 

“Caviar? You realize that’s fish eggs, right?” Josie asks as she stares at PJ.

“So? Rich people eat it all the time! I’m just getting accustomed to our new lifestyle! It can’t be that bad if it’s literally known as a really fancy rich people meal!” PJ says defensively as she shrugs.

“It’s gross. My mom tried to get me to eat it once and I hated it.” Hazel says as she scrunches up her face in disgust at the memory. “It smells fishy and it looks weird.” Hazel says, and the three of them bicker for a bit before the flight attendant comes back and hands Hazel the cookie package and her shirley temple before handing PJ a plate of caviar and a diet coke before heading off again. The three of them look at the caviar for a few seconds, Josie and Hazel sharing a look as they glance at each other, as PJ pokes around at the fish eggs, clearly second guessing her food choice.

“Go on, PJ. Get accustomed to rockstar life.” Josie says teasingly, despite how grossed out she was as she gestures to the food. “Unless you’re too chicken.”

“I’m not chicken, I just- I’m memorializing this moment.” PJ says defensively as she rolls her eyes.

“Uh-huh.” Josie says as she nods sarcastically. “Take a bite, that’ll really help you memorialize it.” 

“I’m going to!” PJ says as she glares at Josie, before grabbing a spoon and scooping some of the caviar onto it, which immediately makes Hazel scrunch up her face in disgust.

“I really don’t think you should eat it.” Hazel says as she shakes her head and stares at the spoon. A few moments of silence go by as they all stare at the spoon, until PJ shoves it into her mouth, causing both Josie and Hazel to let out noises of disgust.

“Oh my god that’s disgusting!” PJ says as she gags, unable to continue chewing them as she grabs a napkin and spits it out as Josie and Hazel freak out in disgust.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Josie says as she jumps back in her seat as PJ gags and tries to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

“Ew! Oh my god! Don’t do that here!” Hazel exclaims as she leans back as well.

“Why was it salty, oh my god! That’s fucking disgusting!” PJ says in alarm as she grabs her diet coke and quickly opens it before chugging a bunch of it as the three of them freak out.

“I told you it was gross!” Hazel says as she gives PJ a look.

“You didn’t say it was that disgusting!” PJ fires back as she sets the coke can down. “Give me one of your cookies I need to get rid of the taste.” 

“No! Get your own cookies!” Hazel says with a glare.

“Jesus, fine! I’ll be right back!” PJ says as she rolls her eyes and gets up to go get a different snack.

“Oh my god that was disgusting.” Josie says as she looks away, looking revolted.

Once their flight landed they got off and were escorted into the airport where Wyatt Frame was waiting, an annoyed look on his face as they approached. He quickly escorts them to a car where they are driven to a fancy hotel near the recording studio his label used, lecturing them about their lateness, as well as giving them the schedule for the week. 

The plan was that tomorrow and the day after they would record a couple songs, the team would produce it, and then it would be shown to the record label who would then decide if they wanted to move forward with signing The Pussycats. Wyatt explained they just needed to choose a few songs they felt truly showcased their style and abilities and then hopefully the label liked their work. No pressure, right? 

That night they were left to settle into their hotel rooms, and given a strict time to be at the studio the next morning. When they arrived they were all amazed at the interior and decor, clearly still in shock by how quickly everything was happening. They spent a few hours recording a song, and then were able to go on a lunch break, given strict instructions to be back in an hour. Hazel was currently exploring the building as she at a cup of microwave mac and cheese, before turning the corner and accidentally bumping into someone.

“Oh sorry, I wasn’t- Hey, you’re in Nymphology.” Hazel says as she recognizes the girl standing in front of her from the pop band Nymphology, a bit of a starstruck look on her face.

“Yeah.” She says as she nods. “Are you a new intern or something?” She asks as she gives Hazel a slightly skeptical look, as Hazel wasn’t exactly dressed like someone who worked at the recording studio.

“No! No, I um- my friends and I are in a band, and we’re recording a song today.” Hazel says, a dumb grin on her face, though she couldn’t figure out if that was because she was excited to get to record a song in an actual recording studio, or if it was because she was talking to a really pretty girl. Maybe both. “I-I’m Hazel, by the way.” She says as she holds out her hand to shake.

“Y/N.” The girl says as she shakes Hazel’s hands, the feeling creating butterflies in Hazel’s stomach.

“Cool, cool.” Hazel says as she nods, suddenly extremely nervous, which didn’t normally happen around hot girls. Usually she had no problems talking and flirting a bit. It was probably because Y/N was famous. “Did you hear about Jupiter’s moons?” Hazel asks before she can realize what she’s saying.

“No?” Y/N says with a confused laugh, clearly not expecting Hazel to say that. “Is that your band’s name?”

“No! My band’s called The Pussycats, I meant like the actual moons in space.” Hazel says as she shakes her head, too late to turn back, and even if she wanted to, her brain was totally short circuiting for some reason and her instinct was to talk about random facts she knew.

“I mean I know they exist?” Y/N says with an extremely confused look on her face.

“Well they found evidence of liquid water a while ago on one of the moons, and on that same moon they recently found traces of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere too.” Hazel says as she nods, and there’s a brief moment of silence as Y/N just kind of awkwardly looks at her. “It’s- It’s cool because, um- it’s really strong proof that there could be aliens.” She says quickly, mentally kicking herself for acting so stupid.

“I mean the universe is massive, why wouldn’t there be aliens somewhere?” Y/N asks as she raises an eyebrow. “Just cause scientists don’t have proof doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” She says with a small laugh as she smiles, and Hazel can’t tell if she’s making a fool of herself in front of Y/N or not.

“Yeah! Exactly!” Hazel says excitedly as her face lights up. “I think aliens are real too! I actually had nightmares about them when I was younger because I watched ET one night and it freaked the shit out of me.” Hazel says as she nods a bunch, before immediately internally cringing at admitting that, as Y/N giggles a bit. “Do you want to hear about different kinds of moss?” She asks quickly, mentally screaming at how stupid she was acting.

“Maybe some other time, you’re not the only one scheduled to record today.” Y/N says with a laugh as she smiles, which makes Hazel’s insides do cartwheels.

“Yeah! Yeah, totally! I gotta go too. Um, tell your bandmates I uh- I think they’re cool!” Hazel says as she starts walking backwards and waves bye, watching as Y/N walks away. The moment she’s out of sight Hazel immediately grabs the side of her head as she groans, annoyed at herself. “Oh my god! What the fuck was that! She’s gonna think you’re insane! Oh my god, why did I say that?” Hazel says to herself as she heads back towards the recording room her band had been assigned to.

“Did you guys hear the label got a new band?” Y/N asks as she walks into her band’s recording room, setting her bag down by the door.

“The Pussycats, right? I met one of them earlier, she was nice.” Isabel says with a smile.

“Are they good?” Brittany asks as she pulls her hair into a ponytail off to the side.

“I dunno, I didn’t hear them play, I just ran into one of them just now.” Y/N says as she shrugs and grabs her water bottle.

“I met Josie earlier. Is that who you met?” Isabel asks as she glances over at Y/N.

“No, I met a girl named Hazel. She was funny, she started talking about Jupiter’s moons and how there might be aliens on them out of nowhere.” Y/N says with a smile as she laughs a bit.

“That’s weird.” Brittany says as she scrunches her face a bit.

“It wasn’t- okay it was a little weird, but- I don’t know… Nevermind.” Y/N says as she shakes her head and looks away as she rolls her eyes, unsure of what to say, meanwhile Isabel just giggles off to the side a bit. “What?” Y/N asks defensively as she turns to Isabel.

“Nothing, just a funny TikTok.” The brunette says with a grin as she shakes her head and looks down at her phone, though Y/N could tell that was bullshit.

my sister showed me an edit of Hazel to the song Heartbeat and now the song reminds me of Hazel lmao. also dw more Y/N/Hazel content coming next chapter lol dividers from @saradika and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more graphic made by me lol

[tomhollandnet]

Tom Holland in the Wild and Woeful Cherry: Exclusive First Look

Cherry is a movie that dares you to try and describe it in a few lines. It’s the first film that Anthony and Joe Russo have directed following their Avengers finales, Infinity War and Endgame, and it reunites them with Spider-Man star Tom Holland. It also compresses their penchant for large-scale action and cataclysm into the core of a single person.

Holland’s title character is both volatile and vulnerable, a hard-knock nobody from Cleveland who’s just scraping by but doesn’t even have any big dreams to guide him. Every solution to his problems only deepens the trouble: College isn’t working out, so Cherry joins the Army to serve in Iraq as a medic. He returns home haunted and damaged, and starts abusing opioids to blunt his PTSD. To pay for the drugs, he resorts to bank robbery. The more desperate he gets, the more banks he has to rob.

It’s tempting to call this film, which hits theaters first on February 26 and then premieres globally on Apple TV+ on March 12, a smaller, more intimate project from the brothers who made some of Marvel’s most grandiose films. It’s definitely a passion project for them. But Cherry is also a sprawling tale that ventures around the world, albeit locked within the mind of Holland’s sweet-natured, grimly addicted bandit.

“We do think about it as an epic film, and it is very much a person’s life journey,” said Anthony Russo. “But it does have a little bit of a split personality between being this character study and an epic life cycle.”

They described Cherry as six movies in one, spanning from the mid 2000s to the present. “He travels a great distance over a 15-year period,” Joe Russo said. “The movie’s broken up into six chapters that reflect those different periods, and each one has a different tone. It’s shot with different lenses, different production design. One’s got magical realism. Another chapter is absurdism. Another is horror…There’s a bit of gonzo in it. It’s raw in its tone. He’s a character in existential crisis.”

Based on the 2018 novel by Nico Walker, the screenplay was written by the filmmakers’ sister,  Angela Russo-Otstot (V, The Shield), and Jessica Goldberg (The Path). “The book was very, very self-aware, self-deprecating, and self-loathing,” Joe said.

They felt a strong connection, even if the story doesn’t necessarily mirror their own. It’s close enough: “We’re from Cleveland and Nico’s from Cleveland. Interestingly enough, we know a lot of people that are implied in the book,” Joe added. “I think he’s fictionalized names and personalities. But I worked at the same restaurant that Nico worked at, 10 years apart. So he had a very similar upbringing to us. He just had a very different journey than we did.”

The Russos also wanted to tell a story about the people back home who are hurting. “Ohio is unfortunately at ground zero in the fight against the opioid crisis. And we’ve got a lot of people in our family that have either passed on or died from the crisis, or are struggling with their current addiction. So, this is a very, very personal movie for us.”

The one bright spot in Cherry’s life is Emily (Ciara Bravo, A Teacher), whose devotion to the love of her life may reveal her own self-destructive tendencies. While she’s the stabilizing thing he clings to, the only pure thing in his life, Cherry’s reckless actions threaten to destroy her too.

“The love story is the central spine of the film,” Anthony said. “Without that relationship in the movie, it all falls apart for him. We knew that we needed to make her presence and her character glow in the moments that we did have with her.”

“We really wanted someone that embodied that sense of innocence for him. It was a dream girl, the girl next door,” Joe said.

That’s a quality Holland also brings to the screen, from his breakthrough as a resilient kid trying to survive a tsunami in 2012’s The Impossible to his “aw, shucks” approach to Peter Parker in the Marvel films. With Cherry, the 24-year-old weaponizes that boyishness, allowing it to be battered and bruised and blasted off of him by the harshest things life can throw at a person.

The Russo brothers know this might sound like a turnoff. That’s why they wanted the role to go to Holland, whom they had successfully lobbied to get the part of Spider-Man in 2016’s Civil War.

“When Tom walked into the room…what, six years ago? He was younger, raw. His charisma just blew us away. There was an effortless charm to him,” Anthony said. “As an actor, that is very difficult to replicate. He’s just so likable. We knew for this part we were going to need someone of Tom’s charisma to keep the audience from shutting down during the darker parts of the film.”

“This is a movie that’s supposed to define the experience of having PTSD, the experience of being addicted to opioids,” Joe added. “And the mission of the film is to generate empathy, not to generate disdain, not to indict. It was critical that you empathize with his struggle and his journey because a lot of people are going through this, and they’re having a very human experience. I think empathy is in incredibly short supply right now in the world. And it’s a tragedy.”

As it traversed a decade and a half, Cherry also gave Holland a chance to show a more somber screen presence. “Tom is a nice person. He is, but he doesn’t let himself get trapped by that. He’s a seeker, he’s an artist, he’s always looking, running after complicated things in life,” Anthony said. “He’s a young actor, right? We haven’t seen him do that much up to this point. This is definitely something he’s had within him the whole time. We just haven’t been able to see it yet.“

Joe and I were surprised ourselves to see how thoroughly committed he was to every facet of that character,” he added. “The darkest, most difficult sides of that character, he really embraced them and ran at them and tried to give them life within himself in a way that not a lot of people could pull off.”

[yakultberry]

✪ summary: it's no surprise that doyoung spoils you on your birthday, but somehow, he still takes your breath away. ✪ pairing: law student!doyoung x reader ✪ genre(s): fluff, college au ✪ word count: 1.5k words

✪ a/n: another birthday fic i wrote, this time for my queen @secndlife !! love you, karol 💖 or should i say horanghae ADJFLAJSDLJF anyway, this is just a little snippet of a college au that we sometimes indulge ourselves with hehehe enjoy!

“You have something on your lips, baby.”

You look across the small cafe table at your boyfriend, a small smile spreading on your icing-covered lips. “Well, maybe you should help me clean it up. It’s my birthday after all.”

Doyoung, used to your antics, just rolls his eyes as he grabs a napkin and reaches over to wipe at your mouth. “Ah, so you’re doing this on purpose,” he says with a raised eyebrow, his tone stern. But you don’t miss the subtle way his lips curl up at the corners or the way his eyes instantly soften when they meet yours.

“Maybe,” you hum playfully. Not quite satisfied with his reaction, you press on. “I thought you might have kissed it off, though. It’s more romantic, you know.”

He lets out a huff, scrunching his nose at you. “Oh, so now you’re teasing me!” Even after dating for over a year, Doyoung still can’t help feeling flustered whenever you bat your lashes at him (though he definitely exaggerates his reactions just to see you giggle like you are now). Again, he fails to hide the small smile on his own face. “Just eat the rest of your cake, we have to go soon!”

“Fine, I guess the kisses can wait until later,” you say through your laughter, only to double down when Doyoung lets out another exasperated sound. To everyone else, Doyoung is a put-together, intelligent pre-law student, expertly juggling his studies, vice president duties at the fraternity, and his personal life (that’s you). Those who know Doyoung less, might call him uptight, maybe even overbearing-- it is a common misconception of pre-law majors after all.

To you though, you know that underneath his cool, type A exterior, there is a soft, nurturing side to your boyfriend. As hard as he tried to keep up his facade, the boy never really stood a chance against you; and now, all his love simply flows out through each of his actions, constantly enveloping you in a warmth you’ve never felt before. Still, you can’t help but poke fun at him at times, loving the blush that would creep on his cheeks whenever he tried too hard to hide his affection for you.

“Should I let them know that we’re on our way back now?” you ask as Doyoung finishes up paying the bill.

“Wait no, don’t!”

Just as you pick up your phone, Doyoung places a hand over yours, his eyes wide. Your own narrow at him slowly. “...Why not?” When your dear boyfriend tries to only respond with a smile that more resembles a grimace, it is suddenly your turn to be stern. “Baby.”

“Well, I might have told Johnny and Lily that this was going to be a surprise party. Yuta and Daisy, too.”

You blink. “Doyoung, you do know that to throw a surprise party, the person has to be, you know, surprised. Also, you know I hate surprises!”

“Well yes, that’s why I told you that we’re having a party,” Doyoung explains. He takes your hand in his as you exit the cafe, simply walking up the street to get to your apartment. “I just thought it would be funny to tell Johnny and Lily that they had to go to the apartment early to decorate it before you arrive or something.”

“Oh my god.” The both of you meet eyes with mutual shit-eating grins. For the past summer, the two of you had been persistently trying to set up your two friends to confess their (very obvious) feelings for each other. As the months go on, one of your forms of entertainment has been creating situations where they could be alone. “How long have they been there for?”

“Maybe two hours?”

“Nooo, that’s probably the longest yet!” you cackle heartily, squeezing his hand in yours out of habit. “Oh god, this is why I love you.”

“I know, I know, I’m a genius,” Doyoung sing-songs, chuckling beside you.

“Wait, but if we walk in and find them making out on the couch, I will lowkey fight you,” you deadpan, only half joking. As much as you wanted the two to finally get together, you did not want to see them sucking face in your home. Where you live.

“You promise?”

“Shut up!” Your laughter echoes against the tall buildings lining the street.

The late afternoon sun streams between the gaps of the skyscrapers and washes the apples of your smiling cheeks in a warm summer glow. Although the fall semester has yet to begin, there are many young people bustling about, and your shoulder brushes against Doyoung’s as you leisurely stroll up the sidewalk. It’s moments like these that make him stop and remember how lucky he is to have someone as radiant as you.

He lifts your clasped hands to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I love you too, by the way.”

“Hmm, you better.”

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your apartment, the both of you excitedly talking about your plans for the evening up until you get on the elevator.

“I texted them we’re on the way up, but Yuta said they’re not ready,” Doyoung laughs.

“It’s fine, I already know anyway!” you say, impatient to start the night’s festivities already. According to Doyoung, he had even bought a table at one of the swankiest clubs in the city, and you did not plan on walking in even slightly sober.

“No but,” Doyoung whispers as you approach the door of your apartment. “You still have to act surprised when we go in, okay? They’ll kill me if they find out.”

“Ugh, fine!”

You can faintly hear frantic whispers and a small commotion behind your apartment door when you reach it, even making out a ‘Johnny, you can’t fit there!’ before everything seems to go still. Doyoung opens the door for you after a moment, and there is a short moment of silence before the lights flash on and streamers are popped.

“SURPRISE!” your friends cheer in unison. You place a hand over your chest in your best attempt to look shocked, though a genuine smile does spread on your face when you see them all there to celebrate with you

“Haha, say hi to the camera!” Johnny, a tall guy with a knack for photography, yells, capturing the exact moment you walk in.

Before you can say anything, your best friends, Lily and Daisy, pull you further into the apartment, which is elaborately decorated with balloons and streamers. There is even a shiny inflated ‘26’ hung on the wall. You can’t help but look at your friends with a pout. “You guys did all of this?”

“Of course we did, bestie!” Lily beams at you, clinging onto your arm. “But thank god you’re here, I was alone with Johnny for so long because Yuta and Daisy got here late.” You laugh at the dirty look she shoots over at Daisy, who simply shrugs.

“We were picking up the drinks and got a little distracted when we were on the way over!”

“Oh right, distracted--”

“Anyway, we brought tequila!” Daisy chirps, flashing the unopened bottle to you. You grin back. Your friends really know you. “Let’s get this party started!”

The pre-game starts off strong with everyone taking shots at your insistence. About three shots later, everyone is in a good mood to start getting ready to leave for the club (except Lily, who seems to already be there from the way she is dancing). Johnny attempts to copy her moves, causing Yuta and Daisy to fall over each other as they laugh loudly. You’re about to join the impromptu dance floor when you feel a hand slip into yours.

You barely have time to smile at Doyoung before he twirls you around, leaving you giggling and breathless. Then, without a word, he guides you out onto the balcony, where he pulls you into his arms. There is something sobering about the soft night air, which isn’t quite the vibe you’re going for. Your laugh cuts through the stillness of the atmosphere. “Doyoung, what are you--”

The way he is looking at you with so much affection makes your heart do a somersault in your chest. “Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers in that delicate, melodic voice of his. Suddenly, he pulls away so that you see that he is holding a large, flat case. He hands it to you, eyes sparkling excitedly. Your eyes, on the other hand, suddenly prick with several tears.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A surprise. Open it!”

With shaky hands, you open the case to reveal a beautiful, gold necklace with a simple diamond-encrusted pendant. You gasp. “Doyoung, you--” your voice gets caught in your throat. “You got this for me? It’s gorgeous, but you really sh-shouldn’t have. I--”

“Yes, I should have,” he laughs, seeing how emotional you’ve gotten. Doyoung pulls you into his embrace and presses a soft kiss to your temple before looking down to meet your eyes. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you whisper hoarsely, leaning up to peck him on the lips. You let out a sniffle. “You spoil me.”

“Of course I do, you’re my baby,” he says matter-of-factly. You giggle through your tears and hug him tighter.

And as beautiful as the necklace is, you can’t help but feel that being loved by Kim Doyoung is the best surprise present that life has given you.

[dontmindifidontt]

EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Chapter 3: Nanami's POV

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov) Word count: 1873 Fic Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery. Chapter Summary: That Day from Nanami's pov. Warnings: None yet.

Read on AO3. Masterlist. Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I’m following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!

11 am. That day.

Phone calls with angry clients. Emails with angry clients. More calls. More clients. Still angry. Pacing back and forth in the cramped office kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. More emails. Another call, this time with a not so happy investor. Checking the clock. Still waiting for that coffee. Still only sticking around in this job for the money.

I lean back in my chair and drum my fingers atop my nearly bare desk, resting my chin in the palm of my other hand. If I quit now, I begin to muse, I'd have saved up enough to last me a few years before needing to find work elsewhere. No, I wouldn't want to return at all. I need to wait longer so I can be out for good. Though I don't know how much longer I can take...

Check the clock again, it's 11:50am. The slightest twinge of excitement escapes through the deafening exhaustion in my brain: it's almost lunch. I figure I'll grant myself the short break to think it over and come back to my desk with a clear mind.

I rise and sling the grey jacket of my suit back on, pushing my chair in and quickly making way for the elevator. It's Friday and my usual spot for lunch has stopped selling my go-to, so I ought to try somewhere new. Perhaps it wouldn't kill me to buy from an actual bakery, it's not like I can't afford to stray from my usual convenience store.

The walk isn't far, but I take the time to consider my options, consider my future. All I want is to live life on my own time, without distraction from work or other people's problems. Everywhere I look, all I see are problems. Money problems, loneliness, or even worse, all the problems cursed energy brings. I try to shut it out and stick to myself. I tell myself that's not my job anymore.

I spot the bakery ahead and the negative thoughts begin to clear from my mind. To put it plainly: food makes me happy, it's one of the simplest pleasures I enjoy. I can't help but at least briefly forget the problems of the world when I'm about to take a bite out of a favorite meal.

I pull the door open and step inside, briskly walking to the register eager to begin my lunch. Impatient, I clear my throat to signal I'm ready to pay - only to be met with a reminder of why I was so desperate to clear my head in the first place. Tilting my head to get a better view, I see it clear as day: a fly head curse wrapped around the woman at the register's wrist. In an effort to ignore it, I avert my eyes, only to meet hers.

She's a few years younger than me, though I immediately recognize the familiar look captured in her eyes. The look of someone who's tired, overworked, and waiting on the clock to crawl forward. There's something else in her eyes, though, almost a bit of wonder. Is that aimed at me?

"Just the sandwich, please," I say while taking out my wallet, trying not to stare. There's no denying she has a pretty face, a beauty that appears effortless or natural, even when overtired from what I imagine was a long week of work. How one person can manage to look so charming even when carrying around the weight of a fly head I have no idea.

I notice she looks to the side before she speaks again, as if she has to look away to concentrate on what she's going to say next. She asks if I'd like a receipt and I decline, still watching over her pretty features and beginning to feel badly she has to work with that extra weight on her wrist. I'm usually better at ignoring this... there's just something about her expression. I can almost feel a sense of silent, shared exhaustion between us. I'm sure she works just as hard as I do, and she does it with a curse hanging off her body, and yet here she is smiling up at me when I'm just a customer who makes her day even busier.

I can barely make it to noon on a Friday without threatening to quit.

I turn to walk away only to hear her voice call out behind me, "come again please." With that request, something clicks. I pause as I reach the door. I tell myself these next words are based not only off of my attraction to her, but also out of a want to help someone whose work actually means something. It wouldn't cause me any harm to remove that fly head... in fact, I'm sure helping her live a more comfortable life would end up positively benefitting a lot of other people in return. Her work brings sorry people like me even a fleeting moment of joy. "Thank you. I will," is all I say.

The rest of the afternoon I couldn't shake the thought of returning to the bakery. Not returning next week when I'd order another lunch, or even Monday morning when it would open again. I had to return today. But how do I just reappear to secretly exorcise a weak cursed spirit? I'd look ridiculous to the non-sorcerer eye. There needs to be another reason for my return. I could use the situation to my advantage and ask her out to dinner... It's a pretty selfish solution, I'll admit, but the excitement and nerves building up in my stomach at just the thought were confirmation enough. She had a certain glow about her despite the clear exhaustion of her work, I can only imagine how she'd clean up for a proper date.

It's decided then, I'll offer to give my help over dinner.

6 pm. That day.

I arrive at the door at 6pm as promised, with her appearing only a few seconds later. My prediction was correct - having changed from her flour-dusted work attire to a much less casual ensemble made her beauty bloom. Seeing her round the corner in a perfectly fitted dress and heels I had to hide a smile, she must have matched her attire to fit the occasion of my own.

After introducing ourselves I turn to lead the way, excited to share my favorite steakhouse with my date. I answer her question about where we're headed by stating I'd assume that she'd prefer to spend dinner somewhere totally different from a bakery.

"What's the opposite of baked goods? A sushi bar?" I catch her eye as she asked this question, and I see a gleam of excitement and joy that hadn't yet presented itself in the short time I'd known her. She looked so eager and somehow already grateful... I wanted this happiness to last. Sushi it was then.

"Now you've guessed right. It's just around the corner here," I answer while internally sighing in relief for knowing a sushi bar nearby. It's one I used to frequent in the evenings before work began to keep me at the office too late on a regular basis.

As suspected, the hostess recognizes me straight away and we're seated in my former usual spot. Sitting face to face with my date now, I can't help but stare.

She has her hair pulled back, accentuating her cheekbones and putting each beautiful feature of her face on full display. Full lips, long curled lashes, and an ability to stare at me with eyes that will me to hold eye contact without breaking.

"So, how exactly do you plan to heal the ache in my wrist, Not Dr. Nanami?"

I guess she wastes no time in getting to the point. I don't blame her, considering I'm still a stranger and all... I chuckle at the thought of how selfish this entire idea was of me once again. Taking advantage of a curse as an excuse to share a meal with someone this beautiful? I have to laugh.

I reply to her question with the the truth: that I'll distract her while I swat this weak curse away and heal the soreness. Though I wasn't expecting to do this so soon... I need to think fast on how to create a proper distraction.

In the brief time I've known her I have noticed her tendency to look away while deep in thought. I'm counting on my observation to hold true when I blurt out, "Why don't you tell me three things about yourself, and when you're done I'll do the same."

At first she's taken aback, but just as I suspected she instinctively turns her head to the side while deep in thought, searching for a response to my proposition. Now's my chance.

I raise my right hand just a few inches above the table, keeping it low enough not to catch any attention. With fingers aimed at the pesky green fly head I flick my wrist with a snap, sending it flying and disintegrating in thin air.

She doesn't get the chance to finish even the second item about herself before feeling a difference. I smile and ease up in my seat. She looks so pretty with that hint of amusement in her eye. I feel myself hungry for more... more of her expressive eyes staring up at me, pleasured and thankful.

It hasn't even been an hour and I'm enjoying her company more than I expected. Did I hear her say she likes to cook earlier? I want to keep hearing more about her...

"So you never finished," I offer as a means to continue the conversation.

As she shares more about herself I find myself relaxing more each second, soaking up just how comfortable I feel in this moment. I'm not worried about the problems of those around me, I'm not worried about watching the clock or wishing time would pass - for the first time in a long time I'm actually wishing for the opposite.

"So you stay out of people's business, and yet here you are providing unsolicited help to me along with asking me to describe details about myself over dinner?" she asks. I barely let out an audible laugh at the way she worded this - a fair question no doubt.

"Both of those things are correct, yes," was all I let up in my response. I could never tell her the true explanation behind this date, the way I used a weak cursed spirit to my advantage. I'd sound beyond unbelievable and absurd.

We continued to play slightly coy and stare back at one another, enjoying the solitude of each other's company. By the time our meals were finished and the check arrived it felt as if the day I experienced this morning and evening I'm experiencing right now were a part of two entirely different years. Can meeting just one person make such a difference?

I closed server's book with the signed check inside and stood to pull out her chair. "Shall we?" I ask while lifting my forearm for her to hold on to as she stood. "How about I walk you home?"

.........

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[luxekook]

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey?  We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries​ @h5naaa​

[keijikunn]

Memories ─ part i

── A @celestialarchiveshq collab “Connected by fate”

Pairing: Semi Eita x fem!reader Tags: college!au, kinda angst i guess, fluff, SLOW BURN, maybe strangers to lovers!au Summary: On the last day of the year, you dream of your soulmate’s most impactant memory that happened within the year. Each memory will be different each year. Word count: ~3.6k

Author’s note: I’m late and I’m so so sorry! I said I’d comeback by the end of January, but here we are in March lol. I can explain why I took so long in another post, if you want, but anyways. Here’s my piece from the soulmate!au collab from @celestialarchiveshq ! I decided to break it into pieces, because so far I have 9k words and you don’t deserve this. Anyways, hope you enjoy and stay tunned for the next part!

WARNINGS: insecurity, mention of injury (it’s a broken arm), self-esteem issues, let me know if I forgot anything 

MEMORIES’ MASTERLIST

You didn’t know who your soulmate was, the little information you had about them was that you only knew they were a boy and had a huge passion for volleyball and music. But one thing that you knew for sure about him was that he desperately needed a hug. Not because he’s supposedly your partner for life, your one true love, your missing piece. No. Your soulmate mark taught you things are more than that, that there’s more colours than just black and white, more than just simple and exact definitions. 

Being able to access his most important memory of the year through a dream was both a blessing and a curse. The first one is quite obvious, it meant your soulmate had overall a good year, no bad day overshadowed the good ones. However, when the second case occurred, it pained you to know that he went through a lot, and you couldn’t do anything. 

It was hard to predict how much a couple of consecutive bad memories could have changed your soulmate. Knowing only an hour or so piece of the 8760 hours of the last year, let you little to no room to guess how he coped with it. You couldn’t help but think what did he do to deserve all the insecurities and self-doubt he’s been receiving. What happened to the sweet boy that still believed hard work was worthy?

2004 (age of 10)

Your soulmate was running towards his front door, ignoring his young sister’s whines to slow down, but he didn’t pay attention. He was eager to see what was the surprise his father told him before he left for school. What could it be? Your soulmate’s voice, a pitch higher due to his age, resonated inside his head. 

“Mom, dad, I’m home!” He exclaimed, kicking out his shoes to quickly enter the living room; only to receive a stern look from his mother, pointing with her fingers his shoes, indicating he had to organize it. “Okay, I’m doing it.”

“Mom! Nii-chan didn’t wait for me when I asked!” His sister, Aime, complained, closing the door behind her. 

The older woman scolded the young boy, who scratched the back of his neck, apologizing to his sister next. The feeling of excitement filled his body once again when his father, still wearing the shirt and pants from his suit, appeared in his vision, holding a large package. 

“Welcome back, kids.” He grinned, placing the mysterious box on the floor to spread his arms so Aime could jump into his embrace. Your soulmate did not waste time to approach his father, who messed up with his hair. “Son, are you ready for your surprise?”

“It’s not fair that nii-chan’s getting a present! It’s not even his birthday.” Aime whined, both parents exchanged a brief smile, before the mother held onto her shoulders, guiding her to sit on the sofa next to her brother. He was almost jumping on his seat, bouncing his legs as if that motion would stop him from throwing himself at the box to open it. 

“The reason why me and mama decided to gift nii-chan is because he listened very well to us,” the older man started to explain. “Do you remember what he asked us a few months ago, Aime?”

“I asked if I could get my own guitar!” Your soulmate piped in, almost bursting into happiness as he connected the dots. 

“And we talked to you two about it, right?” Their mother continued, instigating her children to remember the topic of that conversation. 

“Mama and papa said that if we dedicate ourselves to something we really want, they could get us what we asked.” The young girl replied obediently. 

“Nii-chan has been dedicating himself to his guitar lessons, so we thought about rewarding his hard work.” Their dad finally announced what your soulmate had guessed all along, a smile spreading on his face. After receiving a light nod from them, the boy immediately put his hands on the wrap, tearing it apart to reveal a beautiful guitar. “We’re expecting extra hard work from now on, buddy.”

“I will!” He exclaimed, hugging both parents tightly, cheeks hurting from his large grin. “Thank you so much!!”

September, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

The memories were blurred in your mind, though all feelings and sensations burned in your heart whenever you remembered it. You always saw them in your soulmate’s perspective, being privileged enough to have a piece of his happiness - or cursed to feel the sadness that washed over in other years. 

It was perhaps his fault that you got so hooked on music and learned how to truly appreciate it, you somehow felt connected with him, as if it was a language only you two knew. It didn’t really matter the genre of the music, you could listen to an indie band from your college or a worldwide superstar; your heart knew how to stay tuned to different frequencies, absorbing the perfect high notes to the bass riff that made your bones shake.

That was how you met this eccentric lead vocal and guitarist from a rock-ish band in your college department, a guy with ash blonde hair, narrowed eyes and a voice filled with unsaid emotions. Semi Eita appeared to be angry at anyone at any time of the day, quick to offer snarky replies with his sharp tongue. It could be just a persona he created as his band progressively became well-known around college, or could be just himself and his lack of interest in people in general. 

You got to know him through your friend - and the band’s drummer - Akihiko, after one of their performances on a local live-house most college students go on a Friday night. Semi sat far from his bandmates, who were talking excitedly with each other and a couple of friends, with the same scowl you’ve seen in a picture Akihiko once showed you. 

“Guys, this is my friend Y/n,” he introduced you as soon as you two entered the small backstage room reserved for the performers. “She’s really into music, so I decided to invite her to one of our presentations.”

“It’s nice to meet you all!” You exchanged greetings, while you noticed the lead vocal just rolled his eyes and busied himself with his phone. “I enjoyed it a lot today! I could feel every instrument resonating through my body. Please invite me for your next performance!”

Throughout the whole night you hang out with the band, Semi stayed quiet on his own, enjoying a bottle of beer too lost inside his head. His bandmates reassured you he was fine, the guy wasn’t a fan of gathering with friends or any sort of social contact - which was ironic to say the least, after all, he spends his free time entertaining people. 

Despite the singer’s wish to avoid contact, many girls - and guys - approached him perhaps to initiate a small talk, or maybe to end up on a secluded corner of the live-house with their mouths on his. His quite mysterious façade was intriguing, you even admitted it to yourself, as a possible explanation to his “fame” around people, and maybe that was the reason he attracted many people. 

You only got the chance to have a proper conversation with him on the next band rehearsal, which Aikihiko invited you per the other’s request. Inside the soundproof studio, you sat on a chair across Semi, who was too busy tuning his guitar to care about your gaze on him. He still sported the same scowl in his face, however, this time you could notice a hint of excitement - maybe even a silent love towards his instrument and what he was able to do with it. 

“Are you done staring at me?” Semi asked angrily, lifting his head from the tuning keys he had just finished adjusting. “Why are you here? Aren’t you Akihiko’s hookup or something?”

“First of all, ew!” You exclaimed, face contorting in a grimace at the thought. “I know him too well to feel attracted! Besides, he permanently smells like cigarettes, it’s awful.”

“Just wait until he arrives, the studio will be infested by this shit.” He replied with a huff, rubbing his hand against his face. “For real, though, why are you here?”

“The other guys invited me to watch you practice,” you said, then leaning down to grab a notebook from your bag by your foot on the floor. “They think watching you play will help me with an activity I have to turn in before the winter break.”

“What is it?” Semi seemed interested, you noticed, putting his guitar on its support, crossing his left leg. Although you two were talking for a couple of minutes, you still felt a cold barrier between you two. It was quite noticeable as how the lead singer guided the conversation, questioning you and your reasons to be there.

“I attend the music course as an extracurricular activity, and I have to produce a song by the end of the semester.” The room fell in silence, but you could almost hear the gears in Semi’s head turning. “And I’m also here to convince you to sing for my project.”

“No.”

“Expected.” You laughed amused as Semi’s eyebrow twitched at your response. “Do you like barbecue? I can take you to an expensive restaurant as a payment.”

“You’re not gonna bribe me.” He stated, narrowing his eyes to send you sharp looks. In response, you smirked at his reaction. Just like Akihiko told me he would react.

“You’re right, I’m not gonna bribe you,” you mirrored his posture: left leg over the right one, arms crossed on the chest. But, contrary to him, you opened a smile, though your eyes screamed at the challenge in front of you. “I’m going to make you agree with me.” 

October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

A month has passed since your very first talk with Semi Eita, and although you didn’t make any progress regarding your project, you’re getting to know a bit more about the real Semi - not just the cold façace he shows. He is indeed quick with comebacks, hot tempered - especially when he’s talking about music, the boy stands still for his beliefs in what would be better for the band - but, Semi seems to have a huge wall separating his deepest sides from his friends. As if something holds him back from being true to his feelings. 

“C’mon, Semi, we’re having a movie night,” Akihiko whined once again. “Stop watching this volleyball game and let me start choosing the movie!”

“He won’t budge Akihiko, it’s his friends playing.” The bassist, Takeshi, laughed at the rather unilateral discussion: the lead singer’s eyes were still trained on the screen, watching carefully every movement; while the drummer tried to snatch the remote control from the other’s grip. “You should know by now that he analyses carefully every Ushiwaka’s movements to scold him later.”

“I don’t do that!” Semi spoke up, diverting his gaze from the TV, proceeding to push Akihiko away from him. “Ushijima doesn’t need my comments. He never did, anyways.”

“So, the famous Semi Eita is also a sportist?” You teased him, nudging his left left leg with your foot, since you were half laying on the couch. “And has his phone number? Impressive.”

“Our lead singer had the honour to play on the same team as Ushijima Wakatoshi.” Akihiko threw his arm forcefully around the ash blond haired boy, earning a groan in protest. “And played against the Adlers’ setter, right? And you lost, right?”

“You don’t have to remember me, Akihiko-san, thank you very much.” He removed his bandmate over himself to look at you. “And I’m not a sportist.”

“How come not, Semi?” Takeshi retorted rhetorically, the smile on his face gave away his enjoyment in teasing him. “You had a sport scholarship in Shiratorizawa, you have to be at least great in volleyball!”

“Yeah…” Semi muttered lowly, lowering his gaze to the wooden floor of Akihiko’s apartment, clearly bothered by the turn the conversation took. “Choose the movie, I’ll make the popcorn.”

As he left the room, the other two guys exchanged looks, and you kind of deduced they went too far in this topic. To say you were curious about why him attending such a powerhouse school was delicate was an understatement, the urge to get up and follow him to the kitchen and shoot him questions was undeniable high - but you weren’t a senseless person.

Another part of Semi Eita’s personality presented itself to you, holding as many secrets as the façade he shows to everyone else does. You couldn’t help but think about how many experiences he went through to close himself like that, but more than that, you tried to imagine what kind of story Semi could tell through a song. That was the reason why you wanted so bad his participation in your project. 

Semi Eita could tell a great story if he wanted to. And you would try your best to make it happen. 

2008 (age of 14)

Your soulmate slowly dragged himself back home from school, body sore and longing for a long hot shower to relieve the stress of his muscles. Finals were taking a toll on him, especially when he was about to graduate middle school and needed to pave his way to good high schools. The sidewalk was slightly slippery due to the recent melted snow, droplets of water occasionally hitting his uniform’s pants near his ankles. 

Soon enough, he found himself opening the front door, being welcomed by a warmer environment. The young boy removed his shoes and heavy coat, greeting tiredly his mother and sister, who were both in the kitchen making dinner. Your soulmate headed to his bedroom ready to throw himself on his bed, wishing the mattress could swallow him. However, as soon as he turned the lights on, a white envelope with a familiar purple logo on the table caught his attention.

His hands worked quickly in tearing the material apart, removing a single sheet from the inside. The euphoria already dominated his senses, eyes barely proceeding to read the name of the institution at the top of the paper - but he knew which one was. His eyes scanned the words, eagerly searching for what he was wishing to himself for the past few weeks. 

“Mom!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, running out of his room to find her. “I made it! With a sports scholarship!”

“Oh my gosh, congratulations!” The woman cheered, drying her hands on her apron to involve her son in a tight embrace. His cheeks hurt from how wide he was smiling, but the bursting sensation of pride in his chest made up for that.

I am good at something, after all. I made it to a huge school through my volleyball abilities. 

I’m not replaceable. 

Mid October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

“What the heck happened to you?” The words left your mouth before you could even think after you entered the usual studio the band usually rehearses. Akihiko was seated behind his set of drums, scrolling aimlessly through his phone; and Takeshi finished setting up his bass on the amplifiers. But what surprised you the most was the cast on Semi’s left arm, holding it in a position he couldn’t stretch it. 

“Hi, Y/n,” Semi waved cynically with his right hand, “I am fine, thank you for worrying about my well being.”

“We need your help.” Both Akihiko and Takeshi said. 

“Why do I feel it’s related to the fact Semi broke his arm?” You questioned, glaring at the lead vocal suspiciously. 

“The band has a presentation in a week and Semi can’t play the guitar for obvious reasons,” the bassist started approaching you, offering you a bright yellow pick - which you accepted, still not sure about the end of the conversation. “We’re lacking a guitarist, but Akihiko said you’re pretty good, right?”

“Uh… maybe?” 

“What Takeshi is trying to say is,” Semi cut his bandmate, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “We need you to play the guitar as support for our next concert.”

It was unexpected, you thought with yourself, by the little you knew about Semi and his relation to music, you imagined he would ask any close friend of his that he trusted. Perhaps Akihiko mentioned you know how to play, he could have even shown him a few recordings you did in the college studio. Either way, hearing Semi inviting you was a surprise. 

“Sure, I guess?” Your answer sounded more like a question, evidencing your state of confusion and unsureness. “Wouldn’t you guys want someone else, though?”

“No.” The ash blonde hair boy answered without hesitation, once again surprising you. “You’ll do it just fine.”

You quickly exchanged looks with Akihiko, in hopes to discover that it was a huge prank or even a childish comeback from Semi regarding your stubbornness of having his vocals on your project. However, the drummer nodded his head; his facial expression didn’t give any sign of mischievousness like it usually does.

Semi stopped in front of you, handing you his own guitar. The instrument felt foreigner in your grasp, as if a simple guitar held secrets and hidden feelings of its owner - and it might do. You felt oddly connected to the guy in front of you, the same one who denied every invite of yours to sing for a couple of minutes for an extracurricular project. 

As your fingers strummed the strings, you noticed how perfectly tuned the guitar was and you were quickly to mentally facepalm yourself. It’s obvious Semi Eita would take such a good care of his guitar, the boy loved music after all. After adjusting the strap over your shoulder to fit your much smaller stature than the owner’s, you played a couple of chords to make the final adjustments on the amplifiers. 

“So, tell me the setlist I need to work on.” The three men smiled gratefully at you - though Semi’s looked more like a grimace, but you understood. They proceeded to fill you up with plenty of songs and minor details you should be aware of about their style, rearragended chords.

The hours flew by while you were in the studio with the band, the four of you fell in a good synchronization - if an outsider saw the rehearsal, they would never guess you weren’t the main guitarist. Playing with them felt familiar, all your frequencies merged into one smoothly, even easily. You adapted yourself to Akihiko’s excitement and Takeshi’s quirks during his solos, but the easiest one to work with was Semi. 

His style of singing fitted perfectly with your own strumming habits, even the occasional exchange of looks was easily understood between you two. He seems to be too arrogant on stage, pretending as if he was the best amaetur performer in college - but in a sense, Semi could think like this. The way he easily went with the flow with a new element in the studio, someone he has never seen playing before. 

“Great job, guys!” Akihiko exclaimed, clapping his hands a couple of times. You put the yellow pick on the top of the amplifier and cracked your knuckles, feeling your fingers a little stiff from the almost two hours rehearsal. And you did well, Y/n, you even remembered all the chords!”

“Akihiko!” Your whine made both the drummer and the bassist laugh. “I can remember things, okay?”

“Then tell me why can’t you remember your soulmate’s memories?” He wiggled his eyebrows, daring you to answer him. When you didn’t reply, he snorted. “You can’t even defend yourself on that! Anyway, we rented the studio for another hour, but I have some business to solve at home. Feel free to stay until the end, okay? Thank you for the practice!”

“Thank you.” You smiled, sending off the drummer. While you quietly went through the songs you weren’t familiar in the setlist, Takeshi bid farewell to you and Semi - leaving you two alone. “If you wanna leave, just let me know and I’ll stop, okay?”

“You are good,” Semi complimented you, not answering your statement. “Akihiko-san wasn’t lying after all, you are indeed good.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” The studio was filled with rhythmical strums, following your favourite song of the list while you quietly hummed the lyrics. “I suppose Akihiko showed you a few things I did for the course.”

“Actually, he didn’t,” His response caught you off guard, your right hand stopping its motion in the middle of the song’s bridge. “And I suggested your name as support. I kind of wanted to see what’s up with you and music.”

“And what do you think, Semi?”

“Why do you want me to sing your song for the project?” He asked, ignoring your question completely. You arch your eyebrows in surprise, earning the same gesture - as if he was inciting you to answer him. 

“I strongly believe that music has an unique power to deliver messages. It could be the lyrics, the instrumental or just the performance… everything has a meaning.” You stated, adjusting the guitar in your lap properly; eyes fixed on the man in front of you. “From my point of view, after watching you perform and how you interact with music, I imagined you have some deep feelings buried inside of you that could be delivered through a song. Somebody could relate to you and feel grateful for you expressing something they might couldn’t.”

“I’ll do it.” Semi said after a few seconds in silence, surprising you. When you looked at his face, a small smile adorned his features. You mirrored his expression, though yours were much larger in order to convey your happiness. 

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[jjungkookislife]

The Key to My Drawer Ch. 5

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: bf2l, angst, smut 18+

wc: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, virgin!tae, virgin!reader, sex on the beach, marking (hickeys), unprotected sex, creampie, alcohol mention/use (drunk phone call), ~_~ = flashback

date: June 29, 2020

Despite getting ready for bed, which you admit, you have done prematurely; you stay up a little longer.  You’re now on the 23rd letter, your hands gripping it tightly.  The sheets are pulled up to your chest as you wiggle in further to get into bed.

Your mom called today, she wanted us to come home for the weekend because our parents want to have a cookout.  We packed our bags and drove down and we stayed at your place.  It wouldn’t have mattered if I had gone to mine and you to yours, our parents know I’d wake up in your room or you in mine.

You woke up before me though.  I tried to pull you back to bed, but you insisted you get up and start making our coffee.  You stroked my hair until I fell asleep once again.

When you came to wake me, you had my coffee in your hands.  You refused to give it to me until I sat up, but sleep called my name.  You set the coffee on your nightstand, grabbed your pillow and smacked me with it, which caused a pillow fight to ensue.

Your mom came into your room, smiling when she saw us laughing on your bed.  She said it reminded her of old times.  Then she told us to come down for breakfast because she had something she wanted to give us.

After breakfast, your mom sat us down in the living room.  I thought we were in trouble; I was sweating beside you, but you held my hand and calmed me down with a smile.  I think your mom noticed the way I stare fondly at you.  I think she knows that I love you…

Relief flooded through my body when she gave us each a photo album, she said all our pictures were in there.  From our moms’ maternity pictures to the last visit we made home.  Everything was in there...everything.

I’m not that surprised to see your mom had a picture of our first kiss.  I’m sure my brother is the culprit behind that… I want to be mad at him, but I’m secretly grateful.  It was at our fifteenth birthday party and you had made me play spin the bottle with you and our friends.  I didn’t want to; I thought it was dumb, but you wanted to play and so I did.  I know at the time I loathed the idea, but now looking back, it makes me happy that we could have shared that first together.

~_~

I was nervous.  I didn’t want to fuck it up and everyone had their eyes on us.  My hands were sweating, and I worried my breath may have been bad, but you looked so excited; I couldn’t say no.  

The bottle spun and spun… and then suddenly all the girls moved out of the way.  I’m not gonna lie, it offended me… was I that bad?  Turns out, my brother had told them I liked you.  Like liked you.  Which wasn’t true at the time, but the girls thought it was romantic and the bottle landed on you, anyway?

I felt like throwing up.  Not because I had to kiss you, but because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.  Where do I put my hands?  Do I hold your waist?  Do I use my tongue?  Do I give you a peck and call it a day?

I didn’t have time to decide because you grew tired of waiting!  You gripped me by the collar of my Resident Evil shirt and kissed me.  It was one hell of a kiss!  You took me by surprise and of course, my brother had to take a picture of it and send it to our moms.

~_~

I wonder if our parents knew that I would fall for you; if that’s what they hoped for?  

I thanked your mother, hugged her.  

You know what she told me, Y/n?  

She said, “I know, Taehyung.  I know.”

The color drained from my face, panic clear in my eyes as I looked over my shoulder to check if you had heard.  You were too engrossed in the album to pay us any attention.  I looked back at your mother. She winked and left us alone in the room.

“Tae! Look!” you exclaimed, waving me over and patting the spot beside you.  I sat, my shoulder brushing yours.  You pointed at our prom picture.  I cringed, my hair wasn’t as cool  as it was now.  I remember how badly you wanted to go to prom, but I didn’t want to go because it was lame.  It baffled me when you kept turning down everyone who asked you… I thought you had wanted to go?

Maybe I was an idiot or maybe I… I don’t know, Y/n.  It confused me. Why were you turning down dates if you wanted to go so badly?

It wasn’t until Jimin came up to me after school two days before prom.  He asked me if I had asked you to prom already.  My brows shot up.  Me?  Why did you want me to ask you?  Jimin smacked me upside the head. Apparently you had told his girlfriend you wanted to go with me.  

My heart sank to my chest.  You only wanted to go to prom with me, as a friend or as more, I’m not sure.  I felt like an asshole, I’m so sorry, baby.  Forgive me?  

Jimin helped plan a cute way to ask you.  He even arranged for his mom to do your nails, hair and makeup that day.  He’s a lifesaver.

My mom called your mom, and they took you dress shopping the following day.  Trust me, I got an earful from both of them about asking you so last minute, but they both had been browsing shops for your prom dress since middle school, so they knew which places to hit.

We were a tad late to prom, but you didn’t care so as long as we got to take our picture together.  Most people only go for the picture, anyway.

We left prom after slow dancing, your hands wrapped around my neck as we swayed to the music.  You still look at me the same way you did back then when we dance, although less often.  I always want to hold you, always want your hand in mine.

Remember how we ended up at the beach that night?  I held your heels in my hand as we walked down to the shore while the rest of our friends and their dates partied in Jin’s beach house.

You looked at me, your hair still piled beautifully on top of your head, thanks to Jimin’s mom.  You smiled, “Tae?”

“Hmm?” I looked away from the waves crashing, smoothing out the blanket we were sitting on.  You pulled the blanket wrapped around your shoulders tighter around you as you looked back at the ocean.

“Are you scared too?” Your voice trembled, I laced my fingers with yours.

“Scared of what, Y/n?”

“Graduation.  Being an adult.  The world.  We just turned 18 in December and now we’re being tossed into the wild not even 6 months later, Tae.  We still have to ask permission to go to the bathroom and they expect us to go to college, pick a major, and work for the rest of our lives.  What if it all goes wrong?” You sigh as you look out at the ocean, the full moon illuminating the waves.

“Hey, Y/n.  Look at me, love.” You did, your cheek resting on your knees that you had pulled into your chest.

“I’m going to be right by your side, okay?” 

“What if we’re not friends anymore in college, Tae?”  Your eyes watered but I kissed your cheek.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Y/n.  It’s been 18 years, 19 if you count gestation,” you grimaced before laughing and shoving my shoulder.

“Don’t be gross!”

“I’m not!” I protested, but you continued to laugh.  The stars had nothing on the sparkle in your eyes.  Maybe I already loved you then?

The laughter died down, you squeezed my hand, “I just don’t want to live in a world where you’re not the only person I’ve kissed.”

I gulped, I didn’t know what to say.  Now I think I realize that you probably loved me then… I’m an idiot, aren’t I?

I didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter.  You kissed me and time stopped.  Nothing mattered but you and me as we kissed.  You pulled the lapels of my tux, nearly choked me with my tie as you pulled me on top of you.

I barely caught myself on my hands before your lips were back on mine.  I remember every moment in significant detail… every kiss, every touch, every moan.

Never in a million years did I think we’d give ourselves to each other on prom night on the beach.  Your dress was a nightmare to get you out of, I’m still sorry I ripped it… haha.

Do you still think of that night?  It’s been so long since I last did, but it’s all coming back now.  The way your hair unraveled, framing your face as you got on top.  Your hands planted firmly on my chest, my hands on your hips as I sat up to hold you tighter.  

My lips marked the column of your throat, your head thrown back as you moaned my name.  Fuck… that still sends shivers down my back, baby.

That was the best night of my life, I swear.  Having you in my arms, holding you close as the moonlight illuminates your body as you throw your head back, grinding down on me.  Your back arched, your sinful moans drowned out by the crashing waves as you cum around my cock.  

Fuck.

Fuck!

We went all night, into the early morning.  You fell asleep in my lap with my arms wrapped around you under the blanket.  

Jimin came looking for us when he woke up the next morning.  It worried him when he hadn’t seen us go inside, but once he saw that you were sleeping he left.  I think he knew then… he had to have known.

I wish I could say everything was sunshine and rainbows when you woke up, but it wasn’t.  We watched the sunrise before we got dressed.  You put my suit jacket on and I held your heels as I took your hand and led you to the house.

We didn’t talk about it… should we have?

Would we be dating right now if we had?  Or would we be strangers?  I don’t know, honestly.  I loved you then, Y/n.  Never doubt that but I wasn’t in love with you like I am now.  Or maybe I always have been and I just never realized it.  

You know, if I could express my feelings, we wouldn’t be twenty-three letters deep,  Yet. here we are, babe.  You’ve got an emotionally constipated best friend who’s hopelessly in love with you.

I’m sorry, Y/n.  

If you’ve loved me since then and I’m just now realizing.  I want to ask you, but what if you don’t anymore?  What if I've missed my chance with you?  Oh god, please tell me I still have a chance?  Oh, no.  Oh no, Y/n.

Please.

Please tell me I’ve got a chance.

Y/n, I love you! 

I will tell you.

Today.

I will tell you today, baby.

Wait for me…

You fold the letter back up, flashes of prom and the days leading up to it hit you like a ton of bricks.  It’s been so long since you thought of your school days, but you remember clearly now.

~_~

Jimin’s girlfriend, Adriana, had been going on and on about prom, while you hummed only half-listening as she talked about Jimin’s mom doing her hair and makeup before the grand event.

“When are we picking you and Tae up?” Adriana asks as she shoves her books in her lockers.

“You’re not, he didn’t ask me.  He thinks it’s lame,” you mumble as you clasped your books to your chest.  Adriana slammed her locker door shut.

“What do you mean he didn’t ask you?!  Is he going with someone else?  Because I can fix that real quick!  Who is it?  I’ll settle this right now.”

“Adriana, no!  He just didn’t ask, and I turned down everyone else who asked.  I don’t wanna go if Tae's not going, okay?”

Adriana scowled but nodded before she walked with you to your locker so you could grab your bag.

Later that same night, Taehyung had shown up at your house with a huge cake with a picture of the both of you.  ‘Will you go to prom with me?’ was written in icing.

“You wanna go to prom?  With me?”

Taehyung nodded, his boxy smile making an appearance.

“Did my mom put you up to this?” you asked as you looked over your shoulder where your parents were smiling at the two of you.

Taehyung’s eyes widened, shaking his head, “no! no! “

You accepted and allowed him to eat cake with you as you talked about all the details before he went home that night. 

Once he had left, you had run up to your room to write about it in your diary.  You were going to prom with your best friend, Taehyung.  Taehyung who you’d had a crush on since he gave you your first kiss all those years ago.  Your fingertips brushed your lips, a smile tugging at your lips as you squealed in excitement and kicked your feet on your bed.

Prom had been a blur for you.  You didn’t care to remember the bland food, the shitty music or the people.  All you cared about was that night on the beach with Taehyung.  You loved him then… so, so much.  You felt sparks every time he touched you.  His touch elicited a surge of heat throughout your body.  He’d made the night so special for you despite not wanting to go originally.  

You had often sat in your room wondering if he felt the same way about you.  You didn’t think so, so you never said a thing.  That night, however, you wanted him.  You wanted him to be your first (and only), so you gave yourself to him and he to you.  You didn’t care about the consequences.  You would worry about those when the morning came, not when his cock was buried inside you to the hilt, drawing out sweet moans from your lips.  

You knew nothing would change between the two of you.  If he wanted to talk about it, you would, but if not, you’d let that night be a once in a lifetime moment.  

And so it was.

~_~

Your thighs pressed together at the memory of that night.  Taehyung had handled you with so much tender love and care.  You had fallen deeper for him then, but it hurt when nothing came of it.

You wonder if you should have said something?  Would he have loved you then?  You didn’t think so.  

Your phone rings, a picture of Taehyung kissing your cheek while you smile with your eyes closed, mid-laugh, lights up your screen.  You fumble with your phone as you answer it.

“Tae?”

“Shit, it’s late…” Taehyung’s words are slightly slurred but you know he’s still coherent.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby.  I just… I miss you.  And Tannie, yeah, Tannie.”  

You nod, sitting up, “he’s fine, Taetae.  Go have fun with Jimin and Kook.  I’m sure they won’t be too thrilled that you’re on the phone with me instead of drinking.”

“Fuck ’em.  I miss you so much and that’s more important than taking another shot,” Taehyung mutters, but you’re unable to make any of it out.

“Tae…?”

“This is the furthest we’ve ever been from each other.  I don’t fucking like it,” Taehyung sighs, a bit of anger coming through in his tone. 

He’s right, though.  The two of you have always been either next door, with each other or in the same city.  You had never parted without the other.  Hell, even your family went on vacation together because the two of you would sob hysterically if they separated you.  It happened once when you were both 8 and never again. 

“I wanna see you, Y/n.”  His whisper has you rolling on your side, thighs pressed together.  You ignore the heat that pools deep in your belly.

“You saw me today, Tae,” you remind him in a breathy tone that has his breath growing ragged as he excuses himself from his friends to go outside of the bar they’re in.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice huskier than he intended it to be, but it drives you wild.  “You stole my shirt, Y/n”

You bite your lip, “I think it looks better on me.  Don’t you agree, Taetae?”

Taehyung leans against the brick wall, his head lolling back as he puts the phone down to his side, with his other hand, he cards his fingers through his hair, murmuring, “fuck, she’s fucking gonna make me hard calling me that.”

When he places his phone back against his ear, he can hear you calling his name.

“Tae,” you breathe, he can almost hear the pout on your lips.

“I’m here, baby.”  you want to squeal at the endearment but you refrain.

“You left,” you whisper, your finger toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Just for a second,” he laughs, you’re so cute.

“I know but I miss you,” you admit rather bashfully.  Taehyung grins, he knows this is the first time you’ve been apart and he won’t see you tomorrow unless he video calls you and even then, that doesn't seem like it’s enough.  He doesn’t want to think about it.

“Taehyung, man!  Come on!  We’re going to 201!” Jungkook shouts as Jimin and the rest of their friends pile out of the bar to go to another.  Taehyung sighs heavily.

“I gotta go, Y/n.  I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, Tae.  Be safe and have fun,” you whisper back, sad that he has to go but you eye the next letter.  You’ll spend all day tomorrow reading the rest of them, but you can read one more tonight.

“I will, Y/n.  Goodnight, b-”  Taehyung stops himself, he’s already let himself slip a few times tonight.  He sighs, “Goodnight, Y/n… dream of me?”

You smile, “always, Tae.  Always.”

I fucked up.

It’s over…

I waited too damn long!

Fuck!

I went over to your place today, ready to tell you, but when you opened the door and let me in, you told me you had to tell me something.  I was worried, but you said it wasn’t anything bad…

I asked what it was, my hands trembling as I slipped them in my pockets.

“I have a boyfriend,” you giggled as you showed me a picture of him on your phone.  I swear I could hear my heart crack right down the middle.  I felt the familiar sting of tears in my eyes but I blinked them away.

“I… uh, I didn’t know you were dating.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything just in case it didn’t go anywhere but Justin is amazing.  You’ll like him,” you assured me, but I didn’t want to like him.  Hell, I didn’t want to meet him.

“Yeah… sure.  Listen, I have to go.  I forgot I told Jimin I’d return his book.”

“But you just got here,” you pout, but I looked away.  I couldn’t look at you, I might sob in front of you and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.  I shook my head and rushed out of there, promising to text you later or the following day.

I won’t stand in your way, Y/n.  No matter what happens in our lives or who comes into them, your happiness will always come first.

I’m glad you and Jonathan are together.

You deserve to be happy and I’ll be here cheering you on.

Be happy, Y/n… be happy.

You grimace before laughing at Tae changing Justin’s name to Jonathan.  Justin and you hadn’t lasted too long, three, almost four months at most.

You didn’t like him all that much once you truly got to know him, but he was the first boy who had caught your attention since Taehyung.  You had kissed Justin a handful of times and no more.  He eventually broke up with you when you wouldn’t sleep with him.  Good riddance.

You grab one more letter, not surprised it’s a short one.

Fuck yeah!

Fuck! Yes! Yes!

Oh, I’m so happy I could cry! 

Y/n and Jackson broke up!  I never liked him, he was an asshole to me, but I socked him in the face when I found out he tried to pressure you into sex.  Fuck him!  He’s out of our lives for good.

It was torture seeing you in another man’s arms, but if he made you happy at the time, then I’m happy for you.  You’re mad at me for punching him, but I caught you smiling while you scolded me.  You were more worried about me going to jail than me punching him.

Should I tell you how I feel?

Should I wait?

You just broke up with that scumbag…

I should wait… give you time to get over him, right?  I don’t wanna be a rebound.  Yeah, I’ll wait a bit. Not too long, though.  I don’t want to lose you again. Once was enough.

Wait for me, baby.

I promise, I’ll tell you soon enough.

I love you, Y/n.

I love you...

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

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[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Twenty-One

“So.. what do you think?” Robyn asked as she slowly turned in a circle. Leandra stood up and walked around her a bit before standing back with her hands on her hips, “I love it. We’ll get your hair done and you should be ready for tonight.”

“I don’t even know why I let you talk me into this. This isn’t our first date, you know.”

“No but it is your first date since you’ve been given a somewhat clean bill of health. You should get all dressed up. It’s been weeks, Robs.”

“I don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Does that really matter? You are going out with your husband, don’t worry so much.”

“Boyfriend. We are not married.”

“You could be if you’d stop playing.”

“You will not start with me too. I get enough of it from my mother and Melissa.”

“They aren’t totally wrong. I don’t see what the hold up is.”

“There isn’t a hold up. He hasn’t even proposed to me.”

“Would you say yes if he did?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“How don’t you know?”

“Just what I say. I don’t know. I love him but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m ready to go down the marriage road with him again either.”

“I mean neither of you really gave your marriage a fighting chance beyond that first year. This could really be a clean slate for the both of you.”

“We’ll never have a clean slate and I’m not saying that in a bad way but it’s just realistic. There’s no need to delude ourselves into believing our past will be forgotten. We’ve moved past it and gotten this far in spite of it but it still happened.”

“Then if you moved past it, why the concern?”

“Because I’m not ready to go there. It’s a really simple concept.”

Leandra scoffed, “whatever you say.”

Robyn went back into the dressing room to change back into her clothes. 

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

“Daddy, why can’t we go with you and Mommy?” Anesa asked as Chris started packing her overnight bag.

“Well Sweetheart, this is a grown up date. We took you and Christian with us the other night for a family date,” Chris replied.

“Yea but I wanna go on this one too.”

Chris chuckled, “Baby Girl, sometimes Mommy and Daddy need alone time. It’s just one night, you’ll be back home tomorrow.”

“I guess.”

“You don’t have to look so sad, Love Bug. What’s going on with you? You’ve been wanting to be under us more than usual. Did something happen?”

“No.”

“I don’t think you’re being truthful with me, Anesa. Come here.”

Chris sat down on her bed and Anesa climbed into his lap, “talk to me.”

“I just want to make sure you and Mommy stay friends.”

“When were we not friends, Nesa?”

“A little while ago when y’all weren’t talking.”

“Sweetheart, we were still friends then too. Listen, in relationships, sometimes things happen and it takes some time to adjust. Mommy and I were in an adjustment period especially since we had just had your little brother and Mommy was still very sick and recovering. You gotta give time for things to become normal, that’s all.”

“I thought you didn’t love each other anymore.”

“Awww….I will always love your Mommy. You never have to worry about that.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. There’s nothing going on with me and your Mommy that should ever be cause for concern, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Good. So go get your Teddy bear and put it in your bag so you don’t forget like you did last time.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“I don’t know, Le. This seems like a bit much,” Robyn remarked as she twisted in front of her mirror and the screen of her laptop.

“I know he said something casual but that doesn’t mean it has to be basic.”

“But look at my legs.”

“Your legs look incredible as does your ass. Bitches pay for a body like that. Thick is it, Baby Girl.”

“Whatever.”

“You are being way too hard on yourself and for no reason. You look good and I am not just saying that because we’re friends. You’ve lived in sweatpants and leggings for the last few months, enjoy being womanly and enjoy those curves, you earned them. Postpartum done turned my fashionista into a damn bummy tomboy. No go.”

“I did not look  bummy.”

“Bitch, you definitely do. Perfect size 14 hidden under them baggy ass clothes and Chris’s hoodies. You looked homeless as hell.”

“Ugh….the disrespect.”

“It’s the truth. Go out with your man in that little ass skirt, do whatever then drop your pussy on his face for good measure. You deserve it.”

“Why are you so vulgar?”

“Why are you so scary?”

“I am not scared.”

“You definitely are. We have never had to talk you into a dress or getting your hair and nails done. That was always your thing so get back to it. Part of getting back to normal is getting back to loving yourself. I know you may look different but different isn’t necessarily bad, you know. You’re still standing, celebrate that.”

“Pregnancy always did make you all cerebral.”

“Girl shut up. All this baby is making me do is pee all the damn time.”

Robyn laughed, “I love you, Le.”

“Good but I need you to love you too, ok?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Good. Now go sit on your man’s face or something.”

“Bye Nasty.”

“You love me, Sis.”

Robyn ended the video call then took one more look at herself in the mirror. She really didn’t look bad at all. SHe grabbed her purse and left out into the living room. Chris was leaning against the back of the couch with his arms folded. The colors in her skirt gave their ensembles the only lift of color as Chris was dressed in black from head to toe. He looked good.

“Hey Babe,” she said softly.”

“Hey. You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

“Thanks. You ready?”

“Yup. We can head out.”

“Next time tell Leandra to stop talking so loud.”

Robyn’s eyes widened, “Oh my god, you heard that.”

“I heard enough.”

“How much?”

Chris smirked as he pressed up behind her and leaned close to her ear to whisper, “I do plan on you sitting on my face at some point tonight.”

“Chris.”

“Uh uh, we’re not talking about it. We have a date to get to,” he moved to open the front door, “after you, Ms. Fenty.”

“Where in the world do you get these ideas of things to do?” Robyn asked as she lifted a smock over her head. Chris carefully tied it in the back of her before they followed their host to a gathering of tables. They were set up in sets of two, each table facing the other.

“Well this idea is actually something you mentioned years ago and when I was thinking of where to take you for our date that wasn’t super serious, pottery sounded good.”

“I mentioned this before?”

“Yea, back in college if memory serves me correct.”

“Do you always remember everything?”

“The good things, I try.”

“Hmm…:”

Chris helped Robyn sit down at the pottery wheel in front of him before he sat down at the one on the other side, “is this ok?”

“This is great. I’m surprised I don’t remember that conversation.”

“You really don’t?”

“No. I suppose there’s some things I’ve blocked out over the years, good and bad.”

“Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Why?”

“The bad stuff I get but our dating never seemed that forgettable.”

“I didn’t say it was forgettable, I said I blocked some things out. Big difference. We knew each other too well back then, hard to move forward focusing so much on the past especially with our past being so entwined with each other. Good memories are sometimes harder to deal with than bad ones.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The desire for them to reoccur always comes with them.”

Chris nodded his head in agreement, “now that I understand but that doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”

“If things ended good, of course not but we originally didn’t.”

“Very true. You really wanted to forget me.”

“Forgetting you meant I could rebuild my life. It just didn’t turn out that way.”

“And now?”

“Now is now. I’m happy. I have a great relationship and beautiful babies, I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“Are you scared to want anything more?”

“Scared? No. Cautious? Absolutely.”

“Hmm…”

“I spent a lot of years assuming, I’m walking into this eyes open.”

“But you still don’t trust what you see.”

“I trust what I see and what I feel. I don’t trust my processing of it, just yet.”

“I can understand that.”

“Are you putting out feelers for something?”

“Nope, just having a conversation. So what do you want to make?”

“I think a bowl should be easy. You?”

“I’m thinking a vase.”

“Sounds a little complicated.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“So….did I offend you earlier?” Robyn asked as she took a bite of her steak. She returned her fork to her plate as she took a sip of water. Chris glanced up at her then shook his head, “No. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, just asking.”

“There was nothing to be offended about. We both had our own ways of making it past our divorce, that’s nothing abnormal.”

“Oh ok.”

“Tonight has had a weird line of questioning, are you putting feelers out for something?”

“No.”

“You sure? I know your family thinks I’m gonna propose to you soon.”

“They’ve been thinking that ever since they found out we were each other’s internet friend.”

“Ah. That doesn't concern you?”

“Why would it concern me? It’s not I’m just gonna fall in line with it just because it’s what they expect.”

“And what do you think I expect?”

“I have no idea and no desire to speculate. Do you want to propose to me?”

“I’ve told you before I wanted to marry you again.”

“Ok but do you want to put that into action?”

“Are you worried that every time I take you out there’s a possible proposal around the corner?”

“No but should I be?”

Chris laughed, “Robyn, when I’m ready to propose, there will be no question or wondering about it. I’m not gonna tell you beforehand but you’ll know what my intent is.”

“Ok.”

“That’s it? Just ok?”

“What else am I supposed to say? You know my stance on marriage, my concerns about some secret proposal have been clarified, there’s nothing else to say.”

“Does the idea of marriage scare you?”

“No but the idea of marriage has scarred me. I’m not ready mentally or emotionally for it so I don’t think about it unless somebody brings it up which tends to be every time I talk to Melissa or my mother.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? You’re not the one bringing it up.”

“I know but I feel indirectly responsible.”

“Listen, you love me. I love you. We have family who unfortunately don’t know how to mind their business but we love them anyway. It comes with the territory.”

“It doesn’t have to. I can ask them to stop.”

“Not necessary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

They both fell silent and continued to eat their dinner. After the waiter carried away their empty plates, Chris took a sip of water and sat back in his seat. Robyn’s brow furrowed as she mimicked his movement, “what’s on your mind?”

“What makes you think something is?”

“I know your body language and you’re thinking about something.”

“Are you ever gonna officially move in with me?”

“I thought I did already.”

“You still have your apartment downtown though.”

“Chris, I moved my stuff out of there and into storage six weeks ago.”

“What?”

Robyn laughed, “That’s why I went down there for a weekend. I sold whatever furniture I could and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I thought you knew.”

“No, we never talked about it. I just remember asking if you had heard back on the buying price for your apartment, you said no and that was it. Where is it in storage at?”

“In Middletown. There’s a place about 20 minutes from the house.”

“We can get it out of there. You know I have a storage building on the property.”

“I know.”

“All this time I thought you were deciding on whether to leave or not.”

“If I was going to leave, it would’ve been months ago. I’ve been at your house since the beginning of my second trimester, Christian is going on six months old. That’s almost a year, Babe.”

Chris chuckled, “I really didn’t know how to approach you about it without seeming like I was being pushy.”

“You could’ve asked me. I didn’t want to assume that I could store my stuff at your house so I got my own thing, that’s all.”

“Well then I guess my next question won’t seem so weird then.”

“What?”

“You wanna redecorate?”

“Why? Do you want me to?”

“I want you to feel at home and there’s not much of anything that’s yours there except for you, your clothes, and our babies.” 

“Chris, have you ever heard me mention any of that?”

“No but I also didn’t know whether you wanted to stay or not either.”

“True. Honestly, we could just put some pictures up or whatever and that should be fine.”

“Are you sure? I want it to feel like it’s your house too.”

“It’s fine besides now that I’m back to work, we’ll only be there on the weekends right?”

“Yea but that doesn’t change my sentiments. We have to update the condo then too.”

“How about we take some family photos, blow them up and use it as art, make it feel more like our homes and not just yours?”

“Works for me.”

“I’ll have to check Melissa’s schedule and see when she can do it.”

“Ok.”

“Now I have a question for you.”

“What?”

“Did you really hear my entire conversation with Leandra?”

“Every bit of it.”

Robyn laughed, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because she can be a bit much.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t disagree with anything that she said.”

“But what if I do?”

“OK then what do you disagree with?”

“Sex being the center of our evening.”

“We’ve been out since 6 and it’s going on 9, has it been the center of our evening?”

“No.”

“Have I brought up sex at any point tonight since we left the house?”

“No.”

“So,what’s your point?”

“I was just saying.”

“Robyn, I know you. I don’t have to seduce you as cocky as that seems. I don't have to do anything to charm you out of your panties because if you want to give them to me, you will.”

“I’m not that easy.”

“No but you are that stubborn. You will push back just to do it even if it goes against what you really want to do. I cannot claim you unless you want me to. I cannot seduce you unless you want me to. And I also can’t get you to sit on my face unless you want to. There is absolutely nothing easy about you and as frustrating as it is, it is also the sexiest thing about you.”

“You lie.”

Chris chuckled, “why would I have to? You have made me work to have you since the day I met you. No amount of time will change that about you.I’ve always loved that about you.”

“You just called me stubborn, Christopher.”

“And at no point did I say it was a bad thing, did I?”

“I guess not.”

“So, my only plan was to ask you, Robyn, would you like to have sex with me?”

“Here we are once again,” Robyn said a light chuckle as she sat on the edge of the bed and kicked her shoes off her feet.

“You really didn’t have to rent a room, Christopher.”

“Special occasions deserve a special atmosphere.”

“For someone who claims to not be trying to seduce me, you sure are trying to seduce me.”

Chris chuckled as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the armchair beside the dresser, “The flowers are because I love you. The candles are to make it smell good.”

“And the massage oil?”

“That’s to make sure you still feel good once we’re done.”

“So that’s not for before?”

“No, definitely for after.”

“Hmm...what exactly do you plan to do to me?”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

Chris began removing his pants as Robyn leaned back on her hands to watch, “are you going to get undressed?”

“You can do it once you’re finished with yourself.”

“No taking charge here?”

“I’ll take charge later.”

Chris smirked as he leaned against the door. Robyn sat up, “you’re staring at me, just like last time. What is it?”

“Nothing. Just looking.”

“You make me nervous when you do that.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t ask.”

“Do you really wanna get all serious at this moment?”

“This moment was already serious. Any time I spend with you is important and serious. So what did you mean by I make you nervous?”

“This is the first time I’ve gotten dressed up in almost a year.”

“I know.”

“So...”

“Robyn, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re beautiful no matter what to me. I wish I could make you believe that.”

“I’m trying.”

“Good and today was a great first step. I’ve missed seeing those legs in heels.”

Robyn giggled, “what you trying to say?”

“That you’ve been dressing like you’re auditioning for Set It Off.”

Robyn’s mouth dropped open as she tossed a pillow at him, “Babe!”

“It’s true. You’ve been wearing boxers for months and since that is a one hell of a skirt, I can see that tonight you’re not. I’m impressed.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”

“It is definitely a compliment. I know it wasn’t easy for you because you don’t quite feel comfortable yet so I do appreciate any effort you take to get back outside your box.”

“I didn’t even realize I was in a box.”

“You’ve been through a lot especially over the last six months, it’s gonna take some time to get you back in your high heels and short dresses but we’ll get there.”

“You sound so sure.”

“Because I am. If there is anyone that can pull themselves out of a rut, it’s you. You dealt with my moody, screwed up ass for three years, this is a piece of a cake.”

“Well that’s true.”

Chris pressed his hand to his chest in mock shock and Robyn laughed, “you said it, I was just agreeing.”

“I like that sound.”

“What sound?”

“You. Laughing. You sound happy.”

“I am happy. Tonight was great even though you still haven’t brought your half-naked self over here yet”

Chris chuckled, “I like committing this view to memory.”

He walked over to the bed and Robyn lifted her leg to press her foot into his chest, “what you doing?”

“You really have to ask? I kind of wish you kept your shoes on.”

“Why?”

“So I could take them off you myself.”

“Hmm...so how you feeling tonight?”

“I’m feeling like we both just go with the flow tonight,” Chris grabbed her foot and placed a kiss on her ankle, “what about you?”

“Whatever you want, I’m here for it.”

“Can I kiss my girlfriend?”

“Wherever and whenever you want.”

Chris grinned and leaned down to kiss her lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Baby.”

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

“Aaah! Christopher, stop it,” Robyn screeched laughingly.

Chris grabbed her around her waist and pressed against her, “stop making all that noise. You gonna wait up the whole floor.”

“Then you get from behind me. You play too much.”

“Who said I was playing?”

“Chris, we have to get home to our children.”

“Our children are with their aunt. They will be fine, besides we have this room for a few more hours and I want to enjoy them.”

“Baby.”

“Look, we’re not even dressed yet.”

“Actually my shirt and skirt are on.”

“Minor technicalities.”

“Christopher.”

Chris leaned in and nipped at the skin of her neck. He murmured, “why you acting like this?”

“Because we’re never gonna make it out of here if you start again.”

“We will. I promise.”

He carefully opened the top buttons of her shirt to kiss her shoulder and collarbone, “I can’t walk out of here like this.”

Robyn moaned softly and bit down on her lip as he kissed along the swell of her breast, “Why are you so damn irresistible?”

“I’m good at this.”

Chris hiked up her skirt, sat her on the edge of the dresser then carefully slid into the wet crevice.

“Oh God,” Robyn gritted out, “You are too good at this.”

He rocked inside her slowly, to keep from moving the furniture against the wall. Robyn’s nails dug into his shoulder blades as she pressed her head against his. Chris gripped her thighs and gently pushed them apart as he sank deeper into her. He nibbled at the swell of her breast before moving his lips to her neck. He could feel her legs trembling and her walls tightening but he didn’t want her to cum just yet, not without him. He pulled out, leaving only the tip in and Robyn let out a sigh against his skin, “I was close.”

“I know. That’s why I pulled out.”

“We don’t have time for you to play.”

“We have time for anything we want to do. You know I never rush.”

He pushed back into her and she groaned out loud. Flexing her walls against his shaft, she attempted to hold him in but he slid back out then pushed back inside. Hard. 

“Christopher,” she murmured.

He kept kissing on her neck, nibbled at her earlobe and caressed her thighs as he gently pulled out then kept pushing back in. She could feel her orgasm just teetering on the edge. Her skin felt like it was burning up. She trailed her nails in the sweat glistening on his back. He finally picked up the pace but he pulled her away from the dresser and held her up in mid air. He continued to bounce her against his pelvis, her skirt bunched above her waist, her shirt hanging off her shoulders. Her hair sticking to her skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck to anchor herself. He dug his fingers into her thighs to hold her steady then whispered one word in her ear,

“Come.”

Chris stopped moving as he watched her orgasm wash over her face. It was never violent or exaggerated. She always came in a gentle manner. Her eyes closed. Her chest heaved for a few seconds then slowed. Her body went lax against him, her face pressed against his head. It was his favorite part of them coming together. He wished he could bottle that feeling somehow, so she could feel that way at will. As her body released against him, the peace in her movements, her face was all he ever wanted to remember. 

[gayenerd]

Green Day Deals with the "Rock Star" Dookie 

by Tom Lanham 

(First appeared in BAM Magazine, March 10, 1995)

 Young, loud, and snotty equals beaucoup bucks? What pencil-pushing, graph-charting trend spotter could've predicted it? But the facts speak for themselves: As of late February, Dookie--the brattish, snap 'n' snarl Reprise salvo from Berkeley's sloppy punk trio, Green Day--has sold six million copies. Six million. Chances are, somebody on your block is jumping up and down in his living room at this very moment to the scrap-metal power chords and ardent apathy of "Longview," "Burnout," "Basket Case," or "When I Come Around" and getting lost in the teen abandon of these testy 22-year-olds--weasel-voiced, Montgomery-Clift-like charismatic singer/guitarist Billie Joe; tom-tom tribal percussionist Tre Cool (of the ever-morphing hair-color fame); and bassist Mike Dirnt (who survived Green Day's appearance at Woodstock '94, although several of his teeth did not). 

Yes, punk rock is a marketable phenomenon these days, leaving many involved with the music's initial late-'70s, early-'80s wave scratching their heads, wondering why it didn't take the first time around. Public reaction started as curiosity ("Hey, honey, c'mere and lookit these goofy, green-haired little whippersnappers in an insane asylum on MTV!"), but spiraled up to rock-diet necessity (Green Day just won Grammy and they're nominated for quite a few Bammies as well, including such categories as Outstanding Group, Outstanding Album, and Outstanding Song--"Longview" and "Basket Case"). The fact that they've been nominated at all probably sends a shiver up the old dinosaur backbones of Eddie Money, Huey Lewis, and Boz Scaggs, a time-creepy feeling of "Gee, what the hell do we do now?" Because this isn't just some flash-in-the-pan punk movement, folks--this is a youth movement; Green Day are, as they hiply term it, "bored in the 'burbs," and reaching out, through TV and radio, like some prodigal preachers to other American kids who sense the same slacker ennui. Obviously, we're talking truckloads of kids. 

Ironically, the more fame edges into the Green Day ruffians' lives, the more mature they seem to become. They've turned down all interview requests as of late, even People magazine, preferring to lay low until this tide of interest recedes. Billie Joe got married last autumn, and spent his honeymoon--not in any exotic, expensive locale--but in Berkeley's grand old Claremont Hotel. Cool recently became a father, and Billie Joe's child is due any day now. It's a responsibility they've both eagerly undertaken. Rob Cavallo, the boys' coproducer and A&R man at Reprise, swears they're "old souls, the smartest young kids I've ever met." It rings true. 

The first time I spoke with Green Day, in January of '94, Cool, Dirnt, and Billie Joe were lazing around their dingy basement apartment in Berkeley, sitting on chairs and couches with potentially painful springs poking through. Rock 'n' roll bubblegum cards were scattered across a coffee table, along with several bongs of various sizes, plus a four-and-a-half foot red plastic pipe dubbed "Bongzilla" leaned against a doorway. The only wall decoration, besides a Ren & Stimpy poster, was a Twister game mat nailed up in its entirety, presumably for high-schoolish humor's sake. 

When I'd met Billie Joe a few months earlier at a campus concert, his hair was dyed lime-green and featured squidlike tufts. Now it was dark brown, with only two tufts remaining, and both his ears and nose had piercings. Periodically during the interview, he'd ram a finger into that pierced nostril, rummage around, then stare idly at the resultant booger before flicking it on to the carpet. Cool wandered out of the rec room for several minutes, but returned, red-eyed, to proudly proclaim, "Lookit me! I'm stoned, dude!" Dirnt--when he wasn't strumming an acoustic guitar--kept watching their windowsill Sea Monkey tank, finally noting, "Hey, these Sea Monkeys look just like sperm!" 

Despite all these schoolboy, poo-poo wit trappings (dookie, after all, is kiddie slang for excrement), there was a sense of seasoned wisdom about them, a feeling that they were, as Cavallo postulated, truly old souls. Like the class clown who frustrates all of his teachers by also maintaining a 4.0 grade average, Green Day can afford to play because their work--brilliantly skewed three-minute pop songs, delivered with such vehemence and vitriol you don't dare doubt them--certainly speaks for itself. But, sooner or later, of course, the band has to speak for itself, too, so what follows is a set of excerpts from that first ratty-digs meeting, as well as a later chat with Billie Joe, sans sidekicks. How did Green Day take over the rock world in less than a year? That's the six-million-copy question, and hopefully we'll provide a few answers. 

* * * 

So punk is back, whether America likes it or not? 

BILLIE JOE: It's always been around, and everyone has their own interpretation of it. It's weird to actually call it "punk" again, when it's been there all the time. 

MIKE DIRNT: It's been springing up in little suburban areas, where people grab it and express themselves. 

TRE COOL: It's people who make a point of setting aside all responsibilities and just playing music. And doing fat joint after fat joint--you have to let go of things like paying rent, going to school, having a job. 

BJ: And, if you can't tell by my house, we don't have a very high standard of living. 

How does today's punk rock differ from its late-'70s cousin?

 BJ: I think it was all about art and fashion back then, really, because everyone who was a punk in England was in art school. I read an early interview with Dee Dee Ramone, where he said he wished the Ramones had more of a glamorous appeal, too, instead of playing in jeans and leather jackets. But it was definitely about fashion, until the Clash really brought out the political side. Our music came from being bored in the 'burbs. You get put in this high school situation, where you're learning someone else's rules in a room with 30 other people that you don't really like. There's nothing interesting about it whatsoever, so you pick up a guitar instead. 

But you all tried college, at least for awhile, right? 

MD: And then we started touring. Constantly. 

TC: So most of our reading now comes from highway signs. 

MD: It's the old grasshopper and the ant story. The thought of actually working is just so... 

TC: Sickening! 

MD: Yeah. So we put everything we had into not working. This is what I do best, and I was always told, "If you're gonna do something, do it the best you can." So why not do the best thing you can, too? 

You guys--at least Mike and Billie Joe--have known each other since you were 10? 

BJ: And the first conversation we ever had was about writing songs. And then we just started playing music. 

A lot of the stuff on your early Lookout! records shows what was on your mind at the time--namely, girls. 

BJ: That was pretty much the viewpoint of a 16-year-old kid. I don't write stuff like that anymore. The new songs are more about coming of age and being apathetic and neurotic.

 Where were your parents when you were touring [at age 16]? 

MD: At work, doing their own thing. 

BJ: My mom's worked a waitress job for like the past 40 years or something, and whatever I was doing was OK with her. 

MD: I moved out when I was 15, and I worked all the way through high school. 

BJ: And me, I've never held a job longer than two weeks. I tried to flip pizzas--it didn't work. I tried cleaning toilets in the Red Onion in El Sobrante. Me and TrŽ, we used to work for the SF Chronicle, selling papers. I sold three the first day, and the next day we just smoked pot, and we smoked pot the next day after that. So we had hella extra papers lying around. Our ultimate goal wasn't to get rich or famous or anything like that. It was to not have a regular job and not be miserable. 

MD: And I've lived in every city around here, except for Albany. Literally. And one thing we want to establish about ourselves is that we're just a bunch of geeks from the suburbs. 

Well, one of the first times I saw you, you guys were closing your set with Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger." That's pretty geeky. 

MD: I grew up on radio--that's all I had. When I was a little kid, I couldn't afford records. I'll tell you, I've been down to a dollar in my pocket a lot of times. I've even lived in my truck. I can remember shooting rats with a BB gun in the flat we used to live in, before they'd make it to our food. 

BJ: I've always been really good about saving. If I got some money, I'd put it away instead of spending it, and I'd buy ramen. 

Why name your disc Dookie? 

TC: Warner's said we could do anything we want, as long as we didn't say "Cop Killer." 

BJ: Somebody told our manager that the ad for it was the most tasteless thing they'd ever seen in Billboard magazine. 

What exactly do you mean on Dookie by "Welcome to Paradise"? 

BJ, MD, TC [in unison]: West Oakland! 

MD: Living in West Oakland, and going out to parties every night. 

So it cost, what, around $100,000 to make Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. We kept the advances low, because you gotta pay all that shit back. Everyone knows you can't become an instant millionaire just by signing, because there are so many people that want a piece of you. 

BJ: We hang out with mostly punks though, and they don't want anything we have. They could care less. And a lot of our friends don't even agree with us being on a major label. 

Is Green Day angry? 

BJ: No, I'm not angry, like, walking around all the time with a frown on my face. But the way my music is interpreted is very angry. 

MD: When you feel really strongly about something, you want to let it out in the most powerful way possible. 

Like the way you baited your old high school principal from the Warfield stage recently? 

MD: I think he was an asshole. He treated me with no respect. And for high school initiation, we got our heads shaved--that's the kind of small-town shit we had to deal with! Sometimes they made you push a penny up the street with your nose. But that's life, and anywhere you go, you're gonna hate a lot of shit in your life. You'll be handed

Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. Yeah, you'll be handed dookie through all parts of your life. And see, what you need to do is just deal with the dookie, build upon what you have, and make something out of the dookie, you know? Like an adobe dookie building! 

* * * 

Several months later, and Dookie is oozing its gooey way into the public consciousness big time. The fading summer heat sticks crackling to the Berkeley sidewalks as punks--many sporting monstrous green or fuchsia mohawks--zing by on skateboards by day, and huddle in Telegraph Avenue doorways by night, conserving feral body heat the whole time. It feels like another world here, a throwback to the Bay Area's DIY/hardcore scene of the early '80s, when squatters reigned supreme and burlesque Broadway--fueled by all-ages shows at the Mabuhay Gardens, On Broadway, and even an occasional GBH or UK Subs booking at the Stone--made weekend conversions to "Punk Playground, USA." It was the best of times; it was the worst of times--despite relentless touring, most of these bands sold bupkus in the way of records, and few, save Metallica, ever held pen in shaky hand over a major-label contract. 

Billie Joe saunters into the Berkeley coffeehouse in rumpled jeans and a grease-spattered flannel shirt; his once-green-and-tufty tresses have grown out into Wally Cleaver waves and been dyed a Rod Stewarty blond. He looks like one of those feisty punks of yore; like he could hold his own through sheer physical endurance in the wildest of thrash pits. There's a new authority about him, the way he strides confidently to the counter, orders a pint-size glass of coffee, then swims through a sea of late-lunching yuppies to grab a table. The singer doesn't seem to notice them at all. Or maybe he's just too tired from nonstop touring to really give a shit. He smiles a goofy grin, revealing a set of generally crooked or chipped choppers, with an entire half of one front tooth missing. But there's such charisma behind it, the same kind of "Who, me?" innocence that little kids use. Billie Joe, you might say, has quickly become the Bart Simpson of the alternative set. 

How else could you explain his uncensored performance at a certain outdoor arena where--in a hyperspeed set lasting only 30 minutes before management threatened to pull the plug--he a) unzipped his fly and paraded his privates around for all to see; b) handed a stunned fan his beat-up, sticker-plastered guitar and urged him to play it; c) destroyed a $600 microphone by smashing it into the stage, then destroyed a second mike he was handed as well; and d) encouraged half the venue to chant, "Rock 'n' roll!" and the other half to respond with, "Shut the fuck up!" He then closed the show with a proposition--"They'll be really angry with us, but what we could do is rip out the seats!" he told the audience, which promptly gave Green Day a standing ovation. Billie Joe not only shrugs off such shenanigans as artistic license, he gets away with them! He's even encouraged to continue by fans who empathize with his uppity "fuck authority" attitude. 

But the facts were all on the table as Billie Joe sipped his house blend that afternoon, and it didn't take a fortune teller to read 'em. Green Day was hitting big time. Fast. And the sheer enormity of the undertaking, the weight of all its accordant responsibility, was just beginning to hit him. He looked older, wiser, and spoke in more grownup tones about his future, which then included a pending marriage to longtime girlfriend Adrienne. You could practically feel this new maturity encircling him like some protective aura. 

* * * 

=Where do all these punks on Telegraph come from? They can't all be local and homeless. 

I think Telegraph has just become this cultural mecca for punk rockers, because most of 'em who are on the Avenue aren't even from here. They're from Arizona, Minneapolis, New York, Florida. They just come out and end up squatting in houses in Berkeley. Why here? It's the climate, and the scene itself--Gilman Street and Maximum Rock 'n' Roll are in this area, and have a link to each other. But at the same time, it's separated, because there are so many different factions of punk now. There are the squatters, the pop-cores, the mods, the crusties. And all these types of people come out just to check it out. Plus, there's the best coffee in Berkeley, and a lot of 'em are real super coffee-drinkers, just pounding cup after cup all the time. It's pretty rare to come across a punk who doesn't drink coffee. I can't drink too much coffee myself--it gives me the shakes at night, so I just have a little bit during the day. Then I can smoke dope and go to bed. 

=What's the attraction in squatting or homelessness for these kids? 

For a lot of 'em, it's the first sense of freedom that they've had. It's like, "You mean I don't have to be home by midnight?" They've pretty much told their families and schools to go fuck themselves, so they go off and do their own thing. When I was 17, I did the same thing. And I had this total sense of freedom, where no one's telling you what to do, you don't have a clock to punch in on, you don't have people breathing down your neck; you don't have any deadlines to meet. You have this endless schedule where you can stay up all night drinking with your friends, or do anything you want. 

=But isn't "Coming Clean" about leaving behind your wilder ways? 

It's also about coming to grips with your sexuality. There's one line, "Skeletons come to life in my closet." And it's like, "Am I homosexual or heterosexual?" You go through this adolescent stage in your life where you don't really know what you are, and one side is taboo because your parents brought you up to think being gay was wrong. And if you come to grips with yourself, that you happen to be gay or bi or whatever, well, that was one thing about punk that was so accepting--all creeds were welcome, all sexualities, everything. 

=Was this something you went through personally? 

Yeah, to a certain extent. But I don't want to go around waving a gay flag or anything. 

=Well, you had a beautiful girl on your arm backstage at the last Green Day show. 

That's Adrienne. She's cool. Actually, we're engaged. That's why it took me so long getting here today--I had to get this! [Rolls sleeve up on tattooed arm, points to a bandaged-on cotton swab] Blood test, dude! We're getting married next week! 

=Has anybody tried to tell you you're too young for such a serious move? 

Of course. There are a lot of people who've said stuff. My parents have been a little more understanding than her parents. I just called my mom yesterday and said, "Mom, I'm gettin' married," and she said, "That's fine, son. Have fun!" I can hardly surprise my mother nowadays. But [this relationship] has been a recurring thing for the past four years, and we just decided to get serious about it. She's coming out here, and we're moving in together, so it's like, "Why not?" I don't really have any wild oats to sow, or anything like that. I'm not into the "Gettin' chicks all the time" thing.

 =I know a lot of girls who'll be really bummed that you're gittin' hitched. They all seem to have developed a crush on you... 

Me?! It must be the teeth [grins again].

 =OK, so maybe you didn't brush often enough when you were young. But you were busy developing a direction... 

I wouldn't necessarily say I had a direction or anything. I just knew I wanted to write songs. It comes from...uh...I don't know. I have no idea. It wasn't any kind of cosmic force or anything like that; it was just a matter of having a guitar around and wanting to play it all the time. I've had the same guitar since I was 11--I bought it off this guy at a guitar store. And I still play it--you know, the blue one with stickers all over it? That's my blue guitar, and, for some reason, things come to life, and everyone calls it "Blue" now--"Where's Blue? Can I pick up Blue and play it?" 

=And you let just anybody touch it? 

Oh yeah! Blue's not prejudiced. 

=It's interesting to note that the general public seems to think Dookie is your debut. 

Yeah, but that's just the general public. There are people who've been with us since the beginning, who know how long we've been around, since our first 7-inch came out back in '89. 

=And now you can afford to trash pricey microphones. 

Actually, Warner Brothers paid for those. It was pretty nice of 'em. They looked really nice--I remember looking at 'em and thinking, "Nice microphones!" They gave me one mike and I took it and threw it down, and they gave me another, and at the end of the set I creamed it pretty hard, I guess. We toured Europe with this band Die Toten Hosen--we played nine dates with 'em--and we got charged for a microphone every night. I dunno, for some reason we just started smashing shit. We'd start throwing equipment around at the end of each set, and these kids would start grabbing Tre's drum set and throwing it, and then they started smashing the microphones too. And the bouncers just couldn't do anything about it. 

=And you actually yanked your dick out onstage too? 

I did. Totally. It was the real thing. I dunno. The bands that we were playing with were just boring. It was more like making a mockery of the whole thing. The big arena rock thing is just so dated now, like Journey or Queen. Which is why I think punk rock started to begin with--it was this reaction to all the dinosaur bands. So for me, that show was, "How can we make a complete mockery of this but at the same time have fun with it?" I like to leave people guessing, "Did he hate that or did he like that?" It's not that I don't care--it's more that I'm careless. I try to be as happy-go-lucky as I can, but you can become apathetic at the same time. 

=Do you feel like Green Day is a part of, or represents, the so-called "slacker generation"? 

There's one side of me that doesn't mind it, because it's a generational thing, and another side of me that says, "Fuck that!" The reason I wrote the songs is, I ended up going back to Rodeo, where I'm from, for a week. And then I said, "Fuck it," and left. But I managed to get several good songs out of it. A lot of my friends had just turned into complete burnouts. And these are kids I've known since kindergarten, because it's a small town and you know everybody. And it was all fixing cars, staying up all night on methamphetamines, smoking dope, and finding out all these rumors about people I haven't heard of in 10 years. Like, "Oh, did you hear about so-and-so, who got married, had three kids, and ended up shooting everybody in his family?" And it happened! It was a true story! You're there for one week, and you get caught up in it. You get so bored, all you wanna do is watch television. And there are no record stores, nothing around, so you end up hanging out with all these delinquents who aren't punkers at all, just cultural idiots. So I was watching all these people rot and rotting with them until I realized, "Shit! I gotta get the fuck outta here!" 

=As they say, you can never go home again. 

Oh yeah, definitely. Unless you get pregnant, like my sister did. Then you have to go. But I quit school my senior year--I just wasn't getting anything out of it. I was taking nine periods a day, plus night classes, which left me no time to smoke dope whatsoever. And my mom even suggested I drop out, because she was a dropout, too. I come from a long line of dropouts. I still have nightmares about being late with my homework assignments. When I finally went in to sign out of high school, the teacher went, "Now, who are you again?" 

=And if that teacher could see you now! 

A lot of people think you get this big connection with a corporate label, and you make millions of dollars, but they don't understand that you just don't make that much money. And when you do, it's easy to piss it away. I mean, every cent that I've made, I've pissed away. I'm not gonna say how I did it, but I don't have it But I don't think you necessarily have to be a punk to decide to say, "Fuck it." You don't even have to have a direction. It's just a matter of getting the fuck out and exploring things for yourself. 

=But didn't you feel abject terror when you first set out on your own? 

Nah, I didn't. Because, for some reason, I knew things were gonna be all right. You can create your own future as long as karma's on your side. And I'm a strong believer in karma. I think things can come back to you if you're just willing to give. 

* * * 

True enough. At least six million times over!

1995 Tom Lanham

[libraribear]

2020 in Review

2020 is in the books. What a year. It seems a given that through life, some years will be good and some years will be bad, and for many 2020 was one of the bad ones. Globally, it feels like it was the worst year ever. Personally, I can’t go that far. So many people have it worse than I do, and I’m leery of writing this post because I don’t want to sound unsympathetic as I count my blessings (before going into the undeniably shitty, but FAR LESS shitty things than what some other people are going through).

Nonetheless, as part of a New Year’s Resolution to create more, I figured I’d polish up this blog and write more, so here’s my 2020: Good, Bad, and Ugly. This is a heckin’ long post so only read on... if you dare.

The Good

I never lost my job.

A lot of my academic colleagues did - basically everyone who had “temporary” or “adjunct” in their title was axed. By virtue of being temporary year-to-year faculty for five years, I was promoted to the tenure-track in 2019. I feel very badly for my colleagues, all who lost their job to circumstance, not merit. Six years ago I took a chance leaving a steady job with a newborn to pursue my goal of being an Academic Librarian.  The job was a one-year temporary position with no guarantee of continued employment, and I worked hard, interviewed for my job twice in five years, and managed to hang on. It’s crushing to imagine what it would have been like to survive all that and get axed because of a pandemic, and I feel very badly for my colleagues who suffered that fate.

I got to spend most of the year working from home with my kids.

Before I get into “The Bad”, namely that keeping a five and six year old on task while working a full-time job is incredibly stressful, the good was that I got to watch one-year-old girl grow and grow and grow every day whereas my two boys were in daycare at that age. I got to spend a ton more time with the boys and my wife too.

My kids live in a school district with resources.

We’ve made a lot of strides in Distance Education, but it still isn’t ideal. I feel like my kids’ school district is doing the best they can to make it work. I feel extremely fortunate to live in a district where that was an option from the start, with full distance, hybrid, and in-person options. Not wanting to expose my kids or their teachers to any risk, we’ve gone full distance the whole time. we chose this to keep our kids as safe as possible, so I hope you’ll forgive me when I go into detail under The Bad as why it sucks for everyone involved. ;)

Ms. Bear and I started Doctoral Programs

File this one under “things I’d have never done if I knew the pandemic was going to be this much of a problem in Fall”, but it’s still a good thing - and definitely not the kind of thing I would do if it wasn’t free through my university. With Ms. Bear it’s more of a life-fulfillment thing and I’m happy that I can help her realize her dream. 

The Bad

Distance Education Requires Training - Students Are Struggling

My college freshmen struggled to adapt to their first year seminar class and I attempted to make it as easy as possible for them to follow along, engage online, have second and third chances to turn in assignments... it didn’t matter. Elementary school students have it worse - my kids struggle to stay on task, and me and Ms. Bear do our best to keep them on task. I feel really bad for those kids whose parents can’t work from home or are too busy to stay on them and help them with distance education. I’m not anti-distance education by any stretch, but the pandemic forced a lot of people to switch to it relatively quickly and since distance education is by its nature very self-directed even with a good teacher/instructor, some people unused to this method really struggle.

I should note that none of this is meant as a criticism of the decision to go for distance education.  Health is most important, period, and those politicians that are like “But think of the children, send them to school” - well, hold them back a year if it’s that bad. I repeated the first grade. It’s better than dying. I worry less about the kids’ educational attainment and more for those kids from bad homes where school is a safe haven/source of food. If you’re that worried about it pass some laws to help. 

The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is leaking water

When you find a tiny leak in your roof, if you can afford it, pay the money and fix it. Don’t wait “because it’s a pandemic and we may need that money”. The money sat in my bank account until the the bedroom ceiling started to drop a few months later. Definitely the decision of 2020 I’d most like back.

2020 Was Not The Year to Reduce Stress.

I think everyone is running on fumes by the time they got to the end of this year. For my wife and I as young parents (can’t help that), full-time workers (gotta eat to live), and grad students (like I said above, if I had a do-over I’d DEFINITELY have waited until 2021, the pandemic represented the steady erosion of all the gains I made the past year. Anxiety? Back up. Overall level of physical fitness and nutrition? I was exercising and eating and feeling really healthy in March, but I eat (and feel) like crap now. 

The Ugly

Misinformation, Misinformation Everywhere... and Politics

Misinformation is nothing new for a US Presidential Election year. But as a librarian whose job it is to promote information literacy, understanding which sources are indeed trustworthy and which are not, this election year was frankly, terrifying for me. I mean, if you know a source is trustworthy because of the standards and norms that are used to govern it, but people simply roll to disbelief it’s trustworthiness... I’m not sure how in the hell you get through to them. Lest this be construed as too political a post (I did get a little political above, hee), I’m going to stress that these information discernment skills that seem to be lacking are skills people on both Team Blue Donkey and Team Red Elephant lack. Add to that the psuedoscience, lack of fact-checking, and the whole “If it doesn’t agree with my worldview, I refuse to believe it” attitude illuminated by the pandemic and I’m not going to lie, this shit is terrifying to me. I’m hoping it’s just a phase we’re going through in America, but geez. I’m not a doom and gloomer, but this year was TOUGH in the whole “Faith in humanity’s ability to reason” department. I’ll listen to anyone’s political opinion if they back it up with well-researched sources and facts, but rather than driving closer to this goal, we’re heading in the wrong direction.

I should note that to me, it’s not just Team Red Elephant that has trouble discerning information, or is duplicitous. I need to make that clear. I definitely lean left and it’s not hard to see why - I mean, I’m a heckin’ librarian for crying out loud. But lying and misinformation or misconstruing facts? Some politicians may be more egregious offenders, but most politicians do that regardless of stripe. I feel politics are more like a teeter totter constantly switching up and down. We do ourselves a disservice when we believe everyone on our team is rational and level-headed and everyone on the other team is evil, stupid, irrational. There was a time when we could have discourse, and through disagreements we could at least learn from one another. I intensely understand the desire to make and justify political beliefs, but they’re not how we progress in a country that’s run the way the US is. Maybe it’s always been this way, but as I’ve aged I notice we have a lot more tendency to anoint a politician of our political stripe as a savior. Whatever happened to the old worldview that all politicians were lying dirtbags and though you might side with them, you could never fully trust them? It seems to have been turned on its head, I’m not sure how, to “Trust my side implicitly, DO NOT TRUST THE OTHER SIDE AT ALL.” That one side could be a bastion of truth and virtue and the other a bastion of evil and ugliness is, I’m not gonna lie, extremely unlikely.

Do as I say, not as I do. I got swept up in the political fervor myself with my D&D Friends - for a time we had a “Just Politics” channel to talk politics. That was a big mistake. Though no friendships were ended, that channel alone intensified my anxiety tenfold (MY FRIEND IS WRONG ON THE INTERNET! I HAVE TO SHOW THEM THE ERROR OF THEIR WAYS!) and... yeah. The BEST decision I made in 2020 was folding and walking away from the political discussion table - but it took me a few months of arguing and stressing to get there. I’ve reverted back to trying to do good for all people in my little corner of the world and the web by treating everyone respectfully and rationally unless they give me reason to do otherwise, at which point I’m far more likely to ignore you than engage with you. I hate that I have to do that, but it is what it is. If I talk politics, it’s privately with someone I know that is sane enough to safely distance from the chaos, or someone I trust implicitly. I won’t deny that it’s a very fascinating subject to me since politics is so ingrained into human nature, but good lord, what a minefield.

UGLY Bonus Edit (I always think of the coolest things to say right after I hit post, after all)

A last thought - whenever we’re confronted with a worldview we disagree with, whatever happened to asking the person why they feel that way or what they meant before immediately labeling them scum on Earth? We don’t even bother to fact check the people we loathe when honestly at worst you’re just confirming suspicions, at best you may even cause them to question why they believe what they believe? I can’t remember the last political or heated conversation I’ve seen where that happened. When I was fighting with my friends on “Just Politics” I don’t think I bothered to ask that often enough myself.   

Anyway, I’m looking forward to making 2021 a better year than 2020. Happy New Year, everyone. Love and hope to you all.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

The Christmas that Wasn’t-Ch. 1

A/N: Cooked up with @mox-made-me-do-it​. She is the amazing co-author of this story. It is told in alternating perspectives from the girls (and possibly the boys).

Chapter 1: Leigh

           I looked out the window at the crystal blue water miles below. The sun was glittering on the waves as the plane circled toward the airport.

           “Thank you for choosing United Airlines,” said an overly friendly voice over the intercom. “The attendants will be around shortly to prepare the cabin for landing. Please remain seated and with your seatbelt fastened. We hope you enjoy your visit to Tahiti, where it is a sunny and beautiful 85 degrees.”

           She repeated the message again in several languages, one of which I was sure was French. I drowned out the sound of the voice and turned to my travel companion—my best friend in the whole world Allie Mason. We’d known each other so long that we’d lost count. But life had taken us our separate ways. She’d been pulled to Los Angeles. I’d ended up in North Carolina. Even though we’d spoken at least every other day, we hadn’t had a chance to see one another in almost a year.

           Of course, she hadn’t changed one bit. Well, her blonde hair had gotten a little lighter and a little longer in the California sun. But other than that, she was still the girl I’d met at orientation freshman year of college. The same hazel eyes. The same sense of humor. The same sense of trouble.

           “Leigh, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!” she squealed, leaning over into my seat. “We haven’t had a girl’s trip in years. After those jerks, we definitely deserve it. Time to soak up some sunshine, make some Vitamin-D, and see if we can’t find some trouble to get into… or onto.”

           I rolled my eyes and grinned. She was right—she almost always was. The last few years of our lives had been wrapped up in relationships that sucked the life out of us. She’d finally broken up with her long-time boyfriend, Jon, who was wonderful at first but then turned out to be a top tier asshole. So much so that he cheated on her a week before their wedding. Without missing a beat, she kicked him to the curb, canceled the wedding, and decided that the two of us would go on her honeymoon instead.

           I’d just walked away from Izzy Phillips, the girl who’d won my heart in college and who’d then proceeded to break it into pieces by the time she was done with me. It was kind of over when I caught her with my cousin in our bed.

           “God, you have no idea,” I whined as the plane finally sat down with a jarring bump. “I’m so done with real life that I’m calling for the check.”

           Allie laughed as we grabbed our carry-on bags and stumbled out of the plane into the bright sunshine of paradise. The air was thick with the scent of salt and sand and heat. We hurried across the tarmac to the tiny airport terminal and let the tide carry us toward baggage claim. We stood side-by-side and watched the conveyor belt go round and round, searching for our suitcases.

           I leaned against her side, trying very hard not to burst into a fit of giggles. The flight from LA had been filled with movies and mimosas in first class. I could still taste the orange juice and champagne on my tongue as I watched people move up to the baggage claim line.

           “Look there,” I whispered, a little too loud and slightly drowned out with giggles, as I pointed to a pair of guys standing a little bit away from us. “Looks like we didn’t leave all the snacks on the plane.”

           Allie followed my gaze and returned a giggle of her own. “I’d climb that one like a tree,” she whispered theatrically, pointing at one of the two guys. He was six foot easy, broad shouldered, stacked, and had golden blond hair that was knotted at the back of his head.

           “Climb away, sweetheart,” I giggled, hooking my arm with hers and gesturing to his companion. He was just as tall and chiseled with two-toned curls and a jaw line that made my stomach turn over. “Curls over there… oh, the things I would do…”

           “Fill out those jeans, don’t they? From the back at least.”

           I giggled behind my hand as our luggage came into view. With a wink to her, I dashed forward, squeezing in between the pair and the person standing next to them to wrestle our bags from the conveyor.

           Mr. Tree stepped forward and reached out, lifting both suitcases from the claim with ease. He plopped them down in front of me with a grin that made cornflower blue eyes twinkle. He had a strawberry blond beard and a gorgeous smile. I squeaked out thanks and dragged the bags back to where Allie waited.

           “Definitely from the front, too,” I said, pushing her bag toward her. “Blue eyes. And a beard. Absolutely your type, Al.”

           We walked into the terminal still giggling. A helpful woman at the information desk let us know that the next ferry to our Bora Bora resort wasn’t leaving for another 45 minutes. I took Allie by the hand and lead her toward the cluster of restaurants in the concourse. There was a sports bar like the ones back home, and I practically shoved her toward it.

           “We’ve got time to kill. Cheese fries!” I exclaimed, following a host to a bar side table. “With everything!”

           Allie grinned and picked up the drink menu. Still giggling, I put my hand over it. “Shh,” I said, even though she wasn’t talking. “Time to put the alcohol away.”

           Just as the waitress came over, Allie glanced over my shoulder and went a strange mixture of pink and pale. For a moment, I thought that asshole Jon had shown up somehow. Then I saw my dearest bestie grin. “Tree and Curls just walked in.”

           I raised my brows and turned just enough to see them out of the corner of my eye. They were two tables away, talking and laughing. I grinned and bumped Allie with my elbow. “Should we send them some drinks?”

           She rolled her eyes and ordered a water and soda. I followed suit. We sat there chatting, waiting patiently for our mega loaded cheese fries. Our drinks arrived, along with a huge, sizzling skillet with a chocolate chip cookie topped with melting vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and cherries.

           “Ummm.” Allie and I looked at one another. She tapped the waitress on the wrist before she could walk away. “Ma’am, we didn’t order this.”

           The waitress smiled and looked over my shoulder before leaning in conspiratorially. “The gentlemen over there sent it.”

           Allie and I looked at one another, grinning, giggling, and blushing as if we were back in our early days of college. I reached for a spoon just as Allie brightened with a thought.

           “I suppose it’s only fair… after all they did buy it…” She smiled and shrugged.

           With a grin, I scooped a bit of the ice cream and cookie onto the spoon and turned toward them. “This is a little too much dessert for the two of us, fellas. Give us a hand?”

           Tree glanced quickly at his companion and smirked. “Since you asked so nicely. Care to join us?”

           We slipped off our stools and tried to look cool as we dragged our suitcases over. The waitress appeared as if she’d know what was happening, bringing the dessert over to the new table, depositing it with two additional spoons, and returning a moment later with our abandoned drinks. Tree stood up and held out a chair for Allie then one for me. He stepped around the table and slipped into the booth next to Curls.

           I’d gotten a decent look at Tree when he’d helped with my luggage. Now, I had a chance to see Curls up close. His curls were a mix of dark brown and blond, almost as if he’d started dyeing it and changed his mind halfway through. His beard was something between dark gold and faint brown. He was broad shouldered, wonderfully muscled beneath his white t-shirt. But the thing that got me was the way that his smile made his dark blue eyes go crinkly at the corners.

           He picked up a spoon and tapped it against the side of the skillet. “I’m Kenny, by the way. Kenny Omega.”

           “That is an unforgettable name,” I said with a half-smile. “Much more interesting than my own. Leigh Keene.”

           “Not unforgettable at all,” he returned, scooping some of the cookie and ice cream and taking a bite. “Jesus Christ, Hangman, we should have gotten another one of these for ourselves.”

           I watched Allie tilt her head and look over at Tree. “Hangman?”

           Tree looked a little sheepish. “Nickname.” He held his hand out over the table. Jesus, it was a big hand. “Adam Page.”

           I shook his hand and grinned over at Allie, surprised that she was almost silent. “This is Allie Mason. She’s usually much more talkative. But she’s in shock at the moment. You see, a fortune teller told her once to beware the man who bought her an ice cream cookie.”

           Adam’s baby blue eyes went wide. “Really. Well, Kenny’s paying so beware him.”

           Kenny bounced his head side to side in agreement, trying to swallow his food. He pointed his spoon at me. “You haven’t been warned about gentlemen buying you treats, have you?”

           “Me? Oh, no. Well… gentlemen, yes. But I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

           The table was silent for a split second. Allie trod on my foot beneath the table. Then, Adam let out a deep laugh, hiding his mouth behind his fist. “I like her.”

           I shrugged. “Nice of you, Adam. But Allie here needs protecting from Kenny.” I leaned into my friend, trying to get her to talk. “What was it, exactly, that the fortune teller told you? Wasn’t it something about beware the cookie purchaser but not…” I looked up at Adam beneath my lashes, making a guess, “cowboys? Didn’t she say cowboys were lucky?”

------

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​

[hyuckles-chuckles]

when there was me and you (1) — j. jaehyun

you never thought that leaving your room on new year’s eve to attend a party at the ski resort you were at would benefit you, until you meet the boy that was also forced to sing a song with you. and then again at the new school you were attending the following semester.

pairing ; jung jaehyun x fem!reader

other character(s) ; byun baekhyun

genre ; fluff, strangers-to-friends;)!au · word count ; 3.1k · rating ; pg13

inspiration ; the high school musical trilogy

a/n ; happy new year’s everyone! i hope you enjoy this turn of the decade with a good ol’ fanfic from yours truly lol *this is series will not continue for the time being, read if you want to*

chapter 1: start of something new

on new year’s eve you sing karaoke with a stranger. you spend the new year with him. but that leaves you to wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

You roll onto your stomach to find a new comfortable position to read on your phone. It was New Year’s Eve and you decided to spend the turn of the new year in the hotel room of the ski resort your mom decided to attend for the winter holidays.

Instead of reading in your hotel room, you could’ve gone to a house party with the friends you made that semester when you recently moved to yet another school. Due to your moving around the country, you were able to develop friendships quickly with your classmates before you ultimately moved again.

But you knew your mom was doing it for your benefit as she wanted you to have the best education possible so you could get into your dream college after high school.

As you slid your finger across the screen, a series of knocking was heard at your door.

“Coming!” you told whoever was at the door as you stumbled to the door, too engrossed with what you were reading. “Mom?”

“Get ready!” your mom announced as she walked into your room and going to the suitcase where you kept your clothes, not bothered to unpack for your tiny stay.

“Ready for what?” you asked her, closing the door to sit on your bed and continue reading. “Am I going to the party with you?”

The New Year’s Eve party your mom hadn’t stopped talking about since you both arrived at the ski resort. Your mom told you that it was just for adults and you being 17 you couldn’t attend. Maybe she’d let you sneak in so you could spend the new year with her?

“No,” your mom told you, pulling out a baby blue shirt of yours as well as a pair of your black pants for you. “I was at the party upstairs and the couple I was talking to told me about a teenager party you could attend.”

“A teenager party?” you repeated, not excited at all. “Mom, I’d rather stay in my room, read my book and watch the ball drop — but thanks for thinking of me.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not leaving this room until you’re at that party,” your mom informed. “So, go to the bathroom and get changed so we can enjoy ourselves.”

You walked into the colourfully lit room filled with mainly 14-year olds whose parents probably also forced them to be here. You gave your mom a longing look as if to say ‘let me go back to my room,’ but instead she gave you a wave before closing the door on you.

You go to the snack to get yourself a cup of punch. You almost wished it was spiked due to you not wanting to be here, but with the majority of the party being younger than you, you doubt that the few older teens would do that. However, you still got yourself one and sat in a secluded area of the party so you could continue reading.

You sit on a red, velvet chair cross-legged as you occasionally take sips of the fruity punch while reading, trying to distract yourself from the karaoke happening. Because karaoke was definitely a fun to do for a New Year’s Eve party.

You manage to finish your punch as well as your chapter when the kids on the makeshift stage finished their karaoke. You saw what was probably the host go on the stage and ask who would like to sing the next song. You rolled your eyes as you returned to your phone to continue your reading.

But that was soon interrupted when a spotlight blinded you. You looked up to see people reach for you and walk you to the stage.

“What’s going on?” you asked them as you placed your phone in your pocket.

“No volunteers,” said the host whose voice you recognised. “So, we’re manually picking pairs.”

“But I don’t want to sing,” you told him as you were practically pushed up the stairs. The push was rather forceful so you tripped over your feet, only to land in the arms of another boy. You look up to the boy who caught you as the audience ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at your predicament.

“You okay?” the boy snickered as he helped you get back on your feet.

“I guess,” you shyly answered — partly because you just fell in front of people and about to sing a song and also because the boy that caught you was really cute. “Being forced to sing isn’t really helping.”

“Yeah, speaking of, thanks for that Baekhyun,” the boy told the host who had just selected the song the two of you would be singing.

“Hey,” said Baekhyun to you both. “Maybe someday you might thank me for this,” he smiled as he jumped off of the stage.

You looked to your singing partner once more before the instrumental of Start of Something New began to play through the speakers. You were glad that the song chosen was one that you had seen in a movie from your childhood, and you were even lucky that the big screen TV displayed the lyrics that you had forgotten over the years. Now you must just sing this song that you adored as a child with a handsome stranger.

You hugged yourself tight, embarrassed to be on stage — let alone singing on it. Performing was never your forte, you preferred singing in the privacy of your bedroom.

You looked to the boy as he was meant to start the song and noticed that he was more at ease than you were. Maybe he had always been a performer. And then he opened his mouth to sing.

“Living in my own world, didn’t understand. That anything could happen, when you take a chance.”

Woah, this boy can sing. You were so distracted by his beautiful voice that you almost forgot to sing your part.

“I never believed in, what I couldn’t see. I never opened my heart, to all the possibilities.”

He even glanced at you to sing the accompanying ‘oh’ during your part, meeting his dark yet warm brown eyes. And you both continued the song in that manner. You’d steal glances at each other and share smiles, slowly getting out of your shell and belting the notes of the song. Your voices seemed to blend well together which only encouraged your audience to react positively to your singing.

You were so caught up with singing the duet, that when the boy started walking towards you in the last chorus, you almost fell right off the tiny stage — but he managed to catch you and help you stand up as he had done before. As you finished the song, you both looked into each other’s eyes, singing the words back to one another.

The moment you both ended the last note, the audience applauded for your performance, making you embarrassed all over again, giving them a small smile.

“My name’s Jaehyun,” said the boy you had just sung with, giving you a friendly smile.

“(Y/N),” you told him, happy that you finally got the name of the cute boy you just sung with.

“Let’s get off the stage before they want an encore,” he laughed as he took your hand and helped you get off of the stage.

“One more?” asked Baekhyun as he got on stage to speak into the mic.

Jaehyun shook his head for the both of you. He got booed by Baekhyun and some of the other people paying attention but Jaehyun laughed it off as he took a seat in the secluded area that you were once in.

“You’re a really good singer,” Jaehyun said to you, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear him clearly.

“Really? I only sing in my room,” you told him.

“Well, I’m sure that your neighbours are lucky to hear you,” he smiled, exposing the dimples in his cheeks.

“Well, I think you’re a good singer,” you informed him, even if he probably heard it a lot. “Do you perform by chance? You seemed calm up there.”

“I don’t really sing either,” he admitted. “I mainly play basketball, that’s probably why.”

“So, you play basketball,” you said smiling. This boy had it all and you were loving it.

“Yeah, if you want to ditch this boring party, we can go shoot some hoops,” he said with this sparkle in his eye.

“I’m not very good at basketball,” you chuckled as he took your hand and escorted you out of the venue.

“All the more reason to play,” he said as he led you to the sport centre of the ski resort.

You walked into the gymnasium with Jaehyun. On the side lines you saw that the trolley full of basketballs were already there for the two of you.

“It’s almost as if they knew you’d be coming here,” you told him picking up a ball and throwing it to Jaehyun who had already abandoned your side to stand in front of the backboard.

“No,” he laughed as he aimed for the hoop, scoring immediately. “My dad and I were in here earlier. We would’ve been in here all night if my mom hadn’t forced us to leave for our respective parties.”

“Your mom also forced you to go to that party?” you asked him, joining him on the court bringing the trolley of balls with you.

“Yeah,” he smiled as he took another ball and scored another time. “I didn’t want to go, but I’m happy I stayed.”

You lowered your head so that he couldn’t see you smiling hugely at his words.

“Come on,” Jaehyun said, getting you to look up at him with blushing cheeks. “It’s your turn to shoot.”

“Do I have to?” you asked him. “I’d rather just watch you play.”

“It’s no fun if you don’t play,” he said as he handed you a ball and stood back to give you room to score a point.

You placed both of your hands on the ball and tried to aim for the hoop above you. You bounced it a couple of times before you aimed again. When you threw it in the air it barely got to the rim of the hoop.

You heard Jaehyun let out a laugh before he turned into a cough. You turned to give him an evil glare which only caused him to laugh out loud again.

“I told you I’m not good!” you whined, your voice echoing in the empty gymnasium.

“I’ll help you,” Jaehyun said with a hint of laughter to his voice as he retrieved the balls that were thrown already.

“How?” you asked him, curious as to how he could help.

“This is how,” he said as he took one ball and stood behind you, arms going around your body so that the ball was in front of you. You instinctly took the ball from him, which led to him putting his hands over your own.

“And we’ll bounce it,” he whispered as he leaned his head on your shoulder to see better. You looked at him as he bounced the ball for you, not caring about getting the ball in the hoop.

“You can pretend to be interested in the ball,” he snickered quietly, noticing that you were staring at his profile.

You looked backed to the ball in your hands seeing that Jaehyun had lifted it up to your shoulder. He aimed for the hoop and when he released the ball it went through the hoop.

“Look at that,” he said as he spun you around to face him. “You got a point.”

“Sure I did,” you sarcastically said as you smiled at the boy before you.

You both stayed in the gymnasium for a while throwing basketballs everywhere. You mainly watched Jaehyun make baskets left, right and centre of the court. Every once in a while, he’d declare for it to be your turn and at times where you would miss, he’d help you just like the first time you missed the basket — although, you’ll admit that sometimes you’d miss on purpose.

During an intense game of DONKEY, he got a phone call. It was his turn to start the round so he easily scored one with one hand as he walked to his discarded jacket to retrieve his ringing phone.

“I have to replicate that?” you asked him before he answered.

“Oh — sorry, I forgot you were my opponent,” he smiled slyly before answering his phone.

You collected a ball and tried to replicate his shot as he spoke on the phone with his dad. You obviously missed the hoop by a long shot, causing Jaehyun to let a chuckle out while on the phone. You being upset, threw a ball at him. He caught it quickly as he smiled at you, listening to his dad on the phone.

“Yeah, I’ll be there later, I’m just with a friend…no, I just met her,” he told his dad as you walked closer to him. “Okay, bye dad.”

“‘Friend’ huh?” you smiled at him as you took the ball from him and bounced it up and down.

“Of course,” he stated as he picked up his jacket and put it on your shoulders. “But we should go if we want to see the fireworks,” he said as he led you to the exit.

“What time is it?” you asked out loud as you checked your phone for the first time since the party. It was already 23:54, meaning that it was almost the New Year.

“Just 5 more minutes until 2020,” Jaehyun told you as he opened the door for you, leading you outside to snow falling.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him.

“Not really,” he said, putting arm around your shoulder. “You being warm is enough for me.”

You and Jaehyun walk back towards the party just in time to hear the people inside countdown from 10 to 1 to go into the New Year. You look to Jaehyun who had stopped walking once he heard the shouting from inside.

You wonder if he was thinking about kissing you, because that’s all you were thinking about. Since your evening begun, you knew that he was a good-looking boy with an incredible voice — but after the karaoke and the basketball, you felt that there was something more to him. You liked him as more than a person you just sung with; you didn’t know how but you felt as if the two of you were meant to sing together tonight.

And you might as well kiss him, because you may never get another chance to. And you didn’t want to regret not kissing Jaehyun.

When the party inside reached to the number 4, Jaehyun looked to you as well with a smile spread across his face which only widened your own smile. Within those few seconds, he retracted his arm from your shoulders and placed his cold hands on your warm cheeks and you moved your hands to his forearms. When they got to 1 and yelled ‘Happy New Year,’ your lips were on each other’s.

As with your singing, your lips blended perfectly with one another. Your lips moved in perfect sync as the fireworks behind you went off, making it one of the best kisses of your life. The kiss ended momentarily when you both needed a breath of the cold air.

“Happy New Years, (Y/N),” Jaehyun said as he rested his forehead on yours.

You captured your lips with his once more before saying, “Happy New Years, Jaehyun.”

Just as you were about to kiss again — faces inches apart — your phone decided to interrupt you by playing its ringtone. Jaehyun chuckled as he gave you some space for you to answer your call which was from your mom.“Hi, mom,” you answered, giving Jaehyun a small smile.

“Happy New Year, Sweetheart,” your mom said through your phone.

“You too,” you said wanting to get the conversation over and done with so you could continue kissing Jaehyun.

“I know you’re probably already in your room, so I’ll meet you there in a few minutes and we can have some room service. How does that sound?”

“That sounds okay,” you frown like a child. Jaehyun, noticing this, placed his now warmer hand on your cheek and lifted one side of your lip until you cracked a smile for him.

“Okay, see you soon!” your mom said as she hung up the phone.

“What’s up?” Jaehyun asked you as you put your phone in your pocket.

“My mom wants me back in my room to have room service with her,” you tell him.

“Okay, I’ll walk you there,” he said, putting his arm across your shoulder, this time much closer than before. “Lead the way!”

On the way to your room, you and Jaehyun steal kisses along the way; from simple forehead kisses while walking, to full on kissing sessions in the elevator to your floor when only the two of you were in there.

“I had a great time tonight,” Jaehyun said as you took the card to your room out and unlocking your door.

“Me too,” you said in the doorway, pulling him closer to you.

“Uh, do you mind if I get your number?” he asks you, already getting his phone out.

“Uh, yes!” you exclaim as you type in the digits of your phone number.

When you give him his phone back, he sneakily takes a picture of you, surprising you in the process.

“So I have a picture for your contact,” he tells you, as if answering the question in your mind.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your New Year, Jaehyun,” you tell him, giving him his jacket back.

“Trust me, I already have,” he states, leaning in for another sweet kiss on your lips.

He leaves you with a dimpled smile as he strolls down the hallway back to the elevator, leaving your heart emptier than it was before.

Soon after you’re in your pyjamas, eating brownies with your mom as you watch a bad-but-that’s-what-makes-it-good movie.

As you finish your brownie, you receive three messages from an unknown number. You look to see that one of the messages was the picture that Jaehyun took of you and the other was a selfie that he must’ve taken when he got to his room. Attached to the selfie was a message that said, “For my contact in your phone;)”

You smile to yourself as you add his number to your contacts, wondering if you’ll ever see the stranger you sang with on New Year’s Eve outside of the ski resort.

hope you like this hsm inspired fic! make sure to comment / ask / reblog / like if you enjoyed it! more to come!

© hyuckles-chuckles, 2019. please don’t copy or repost without permission.

[resmel-writing]

Fear - Intuition

I kept going to the bathroom and every time I use it, I had to go pee again. It was thinking, “I don’t remember drinking so much water” and then.. I woke up.

That’s how my morning started. I usually wake up at around 10 or 11a.m. but this time I woke up around 7:30 to use the restroom. My sister was getting ready to leave for the gym and then my dad blows up on her about going out too much especially during this pandemic. I messaged my mom cause she heard what happened. I had a conversation with my mom regarding my dad’s behavior. I’m a member of the Church of Christ, Iglesia Ni Cristo. Lately, I haven’t been proud of it. It all starts off with how I perceive my family. We have duties we take up in church but let’s call them responsibilities to better understand. I just don’t understand how my family members have these responsibilities yet they aren’t responsible for the way they act-- negativity, doubt, judging others harshly, and living in fear. It doesn’t make sense to me. How can you attend all these activities of bible studies, officer’s meetings yet still don’t implement what’s being taught? We are taught to have faith, to have an honest and striving connection with God, to not worry about what happens tomorrow, etc. My parents have lived in fear; in survival mode. I truly understand there’s a pandemic going on which was my dad’s case but for my sister, she’s been going to the gym to build up her immune system, she eats healthy, tracks her macros, has tested negative three times. While me, stays home majority of the time, games, and yet still tests positive. Why? Simple. Immune system isn’t strong and lack of nutrients. My health hasn’t been the best and I’ve been distracted with other ventures. Anyways, there’s no point in taking up an office if my dad continues to still behave and react the way he’s been for majority of his life. I understand there’s some suppressed trauma.. generational trauma. I question everything and observe why people the way they are. Self-image, and I truly feel majority of the members (of the church) take up a responsibility for self-image rather than caring for their fellow brethren. God looks at the way you live and how you interact with your family. Not just the responsibilities you take up for the church. The focus should be on the connection with God and not the self-image. Back to the conversation with my mom and what happened earlier this morning. My dad just needs to work on his approach and the way he’s handling the trauma he dealt when he was young or the generational trauma which I’m still learning to uncover. My mom was telling me to understand and I still understood that it was fear. Ever since my siblings and I were little, my dad’s way of thinking got us to be fearful majority of our lives. Why none of us graduated yet (except my brother in the ministry) cause of the fear of failing. Now, my sister struggling through college cause of dad projecting his fear and not even paying for her tuition. He’s always projecting his fear and insecurities. As the time passes in between messaging my mom, my dad approaches mom saying “what’s the point of going to the gym or going outside?” My dad never admits for the little things that my siblings and I do when in reality, these little things add up for good. He’s concerned about our health but not realizing the way he approaches and talks down on us affects our mental health which also affects our physical health. I posted on the family group chat, “Gyms. Builds immune system. You can talk to KJ {one of the ministers) too since he goes to the gym and knows the importance of taking care of the body. Plus, my sister knows how to get tested way before I tested positive. I stayed home more than her, playing video games and still tested positive. What is it? Simple. Immune system and lack of nutrition cause I don’t get the chance to cook the food I want to eat cause my family and mom’s family from the Philippines staying over til March be cooking the same stuff. Out of all people, you (my dad) project your fear and worry. Not faith. I understand that you’re a parent and you’re getting old. But at this point, you can only advise us now. Not control us. You have to accept that. You get to choose how you react.” I’m filipino by the way, and if you have friends with parents that migrated to the US for “better” opportunity, you know this reaction of theirs is inconsiderate and in denial, “Bahala kayo.”  What that means is “up to you” but the negative connation, “do what you want.” I laughed and responded, “Next time don’t attack your daughter. Not the only way you talk to her. You think she will want her kid around you? Think about it. Your approach isn’t healthy nor in a Christian manner. Remember, I observe your mistakes. You’re lucky, we’re smart. Kids hold resentment and not able to identify the issue. But I don’t take it personally cause one, it’s how you feel about yourself. His response, “Enough!” After this response of mine, he left the group chat, “Just admit it. You can’t admit we’re in the right.” He blows up. Going around the house. Cursing in tagalog, saying “he thinks he’s smarter?!,”then get out of my house!” My mom trying to calm him down saying he’s not understanding from our point of view. I getting up from my bed to confront him by saying “You wanna talk to a minister” but instead something else came out of me and somewhere along these lines, “This isn’t about being wrong or right and the end of the day sometimes. We are addressing the fact that you don’t approach things in the healthiest way, you let your emotions put you in survival mode; then you project the bad coping mechanisms onto us just get your point across. You can still be stern and concerned without yelling at someone who is trying their best to stay healthy. If you are worried about us health-wise, keep in mind our mental health can also affect our physical. Because you weren’t able to realize this growing up, now we are confronting you and just asking you to do better. God created us and made us your children so you could learn about this confrontation since you don’t wanna confront your own behavior.” My dad was just on my mom’s chest having a hard time breathing while I said this. My friend Jaybee suggested this message for me to say as a secret weapon. Lol. Huge gratitude for Jaybee for talking this out with me since she’s a narcissistic abuse survivor. Anyways, my dad didn’t react. I just told him that we love him and despite the fact of me being 27 years old and letting me stay under his roof, I’m always thankful for it regardless of how I don’t say it often. My sister and I are always looking to better ourselves to achieve the future we want for ourselves and especially this family he provided a roof over. He calmed down and just laid on his bed to cool off. I told him to look at himself as well, if he’s concerned about his health, look at the physical effects on himself when he doesn’t have his mental health in check. Before all this went down, my mom was messaging to not argue or fight with him, but I just had the urge to get up and say something even when I should be quarantining.. It was my intuition. It felt like the right thing to do. I wasn’t given this feeling for no reason and especially I have prayed for growth which comes with challenges to test me. I can proudly say I got out of my comfort zone, said my piece and passed the test. I could fight fire with fire but it will always end in fire. I chose peace cause that’s what I’ve always wanted. It wasn’t coincidence for me waking up early at 7:32 to randomly use the restroom and hear what my dad said to my sister before she head out to the gym. All this wasn’t a coincidence. There was a purpose. God had a purpose for me and used me as a great instrument to say what I needed to say. Maybe it was the hard pill for my dad to swallow. He knows he can’t say things in front of me since I believe I’m quite observant of his actions. I believe I have the makings of a great father when the time comes. To avoid the bad my dad has done to my siblings and I but to be an example of the good. My dad is only human and I am too. My dad isn’t as self-critical as me. If he was, I have no doubt he’ll make a great father. Anyways, it just makes me wonder what got me into saying what I needed to say and having the courage to put my foot down and said what was necessary.

Intuition.

Lately, I haven’t been gaming since I’ve been quarantining, re-watching a favorite tv series which has some pretty good life lessons/tips. I’ve been rethinking the direction I’ve been on and how some actions don’t align up with my values and such. My health for one has been neglected, my creativity for my room and pc setup have been up but there’s no balance. I’ve started getting rid of old clothes that I don’t wear anymore. I haven’t bought new clothes in a long time. I have such huge hesitations when buying clothes but when it comes to tech, oof. I wanna change that. I can have both. A clean environment along with great clothing but it also starts off with a clean mind although the mind ain’t always consistent. I have to at least try and do my best. Which should be enough. If you’ve read this far, I hope the message you can take from this is to not live in fear and follow your intuition. My symptoms are going away and my 10 days of isolation are almost up which I can then get retested and hopefully come out negative again which I’m positive it’ll be ;) fingers crossed lol. Thanks again and hope you are safe and sound, whoever you are and wherever you are.

Walk by faith, not by sight.

All my love and gratitude,

//REZ

[anxietysroomsupport]

Why are ppl so ok to leave me. They never questioned me when I disappeared. We were friends throughout our whole schooling. We were partners at some points too. And yet they just seem to move on like I’m nothing. Like I never meant anything at all. I got replaced by my best friend. My partners broke up with me to be other ppl. My other friends just dropped me. Why am I so hard to love. Do ppl only like those who have self depricating thoughts like this? Is being depressed really what it takes for ppl to care? I don’t want be alone anymore. It’s tearing me apart -〽️

Hi 〽️ Anon,

(sry this got so long)

Loneliness is really painful.  It’s completely understandable that you’re struggling with it because humans are such social creatures.  More and more people are experiencing that loneliness right now with all the pandemic precautions and changes constantly bombarding us.  

Even if we throw out all the unusual circumstances of the current day, what you’re dealing with is something that happens to a lot of people as we get older.  Especially around the time of going from high school to college to work.  When people are starting new things (like moving to a new city, starting a new job or school, figuring out their new normal), it’s extremely easy to forget about everything (including the people) that we associate with our old patterns.  Our brains just become so stimulated by the new surroundings or the immediate problems at hand, anything that is not screeching for our attention falls to the background.

That can happen even with people we have otherwise good relationships with, people we care about.  There’s a saying that goes, “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”  That’s the concept that makes it feel like being visibly depressed or upset gets people to care or pay better attention.  Each person has a lot going on in their lives, but they are more likely to respond to a situation if they feel like something bad could happen if they waited.  It doesn’t mean that they only care about you when something’s wrong.  It just means they make sure to prioritize a bad situation so it doesn’t get worse.  If they care about you when something is wrong, there’s a good chance they actually care all the time.  They just aren’t actively showing it.

How we care about people as we grow older changes over time.  It becomes something we have to actively work on, because now we’re not just naturally in the same place as our friends (government mandated schooling).  And we aren’t taught how to actively plan for social activities outside of our obligations.  Most people will not realize this on their own, which is why lots of older people have very few friends outside of their significant other.  It takes work.  We have to learn how to actively appreciate others and make plans with them.

I don’t know you personally so I don’t know if you’re hard to love or not, and I feel like arguing about it wouldn’t do any good.  Maybe you are hard to love.  Even so, you still deserve to be loved.

Season 7, Episodes 14 and 15 of Adventure Time introduce us to a new character named AMO:

“BMO has successfully climbed into an air vent and crawls through to AMO's room. ALLMO explains that AMO was the first of their kind, built to receive love, as BMO was built to give love.”

AMO struggles to make lasting friendships because his programming can only prioritize receiving love.  It is his sole focus.  Because of this, anytime he is not receiving love he becomes destructive and angry.  

On the other side is BMO, who was programmed to give love.  He rarely struggles at all to receive love because he is constantly giving it out first.  But when he gets hurt by others he’s less likely to stand up for himself.

AMO prioritizes himself, while BMO prioritizes others.  Neither of them are a whole person.  AMO is our survival instincts, knowing that we need love to survive and fighting anyone who won’t give it to him.  BMO is our learned behavior, being selfless because society has taught us that’s the best way to get along with everyone.  We, as humans, need both parts (and more).  We need to work toward a balance, where we consider others to be as important as ourselves.  

One way to go about this is to pursue the things that you enjoy, and accept that the people you wish were there pursuing it with you might not show up.  They’re on their own pursuits.  When you take the time to figure out what activities, goals, dreams would be enjoyable for you, and pursue them just for yourself, a few things happen:

you get to do those things you like, even if you’re doing it alone

you regain some control on your own path forward

you’re more likely to meet people who like the same things as you

you’re using your time to make your own life better, instead of wasting it lamenting people who aren’t giving their time back to you

The video, Making Some Changes, from Sanders Sides seems uniquely appropriate for your situation (and we really don’t reference them enough considering this blog started for the fanders).  There are changes you can control, and changes that you can’t.  You may not be able to control when people exit your life, or why, but you do have control over meeting new people, making new relationships, and pursuing the things you want for yourself.  

Sometimes people will leave to get away from something, or to go toward something else, sometimes they’ll leave on purpose, sometimes on accident, and sometimes they’re just taken from us.  It’s a struggle and painful and can take a long time to process, but everyone does deal with looking back on the past and wishing things could be like that again.  If you can learn to appreciate the time you did have, instead of regretting that it couldn’t last longer, you’ll be able to remember those times more fondly, and look forward to your future with more hope.  

It takes practice to do that.  Work on it actively, by writing yourself notes or setting reminders.  Try phrasing things in terms of love and appreciation.  “We were good friends for ‘X’ years.  Those were such good times, I’m so glad we got to have that as children.”  It probably feels like something’s been taken away from you right now, but it was also something that was given to you back then.  

Hopefully this gives you some ideas of how to start making new friendships and relationships going forward.  

-Miss Fay

[maren-as-an-adult]

The 2020 Experience, Part 4

December was...rough. Every free moment I had was spent looking for better paying jobs and more apartments. Christmas gifts were planned and purchased under extreme budget. I had an upcoming OB-GYN appointment. And the accumulated stress finally broke me physically and mentally.

I started noticing it when I had my OB-GYN appointment. My appointment wasn’t until 4:30pm, but I wanted to get some Christmas shopping done, so I took an early train into Atlantic Terminal to do some shopping in and around Barclay’s Center. I didn’t have breakfast before I left, so I grabbed a latte and a slice of iced lemon cake from Starbucks. There were some benches outside where I sat down and ate. Afterwards, I hit up Target and Marshall’s. Once I was in line for Marshall’s, I started feeling... off. I could feel my pulse rushing in my face, and my stomach felt simultaneously empty and twisted upside down. I couldn’t tell if I felt like I was going to vomit or poop, or if I was just really gassy and needed to fart. I made it through purchasing and left to sit down somewhere, anywhere. I think I settled down in front of either TJ Maxx or Burlington on the ground. I pulled my knees into my chest, waiting and hoping for this feeling to pass. After about 15 minutes and no change, I knew I needed to find a bathroom. And in COVID times, I had a better chance of finding a four-leaf clover growing out of the concrete than a public toilet I could access.

Target, however, was my savior. Having purchased from them earlier, I happily took advantage of their open and clean bathroom facilities. I won’t go into too much detail, but I will say I spent a long time on that toilet trying to feel better. Eventually I had to move on, and I decided I would go outside and get as much fresh air as I could, hoping that would somehow cure me of this... whatever feeling it was. It helped, or at least that’s what I told myself as I slowly sipped water from my water bottle. I tried to make one last stop at one last shop before heading down to Bay Ridge for my OB-GYN appointment, but after two instances where I was forced to sit down again and wait for the feeling to pass to something barely more manageable, I decided the best course of action would be to arrive exceptionally early to my appointment and hope they had an unoccupied bathroom I could access.

Thankfully, they did. I somehow managed a thirty minute train ride, a ten minute wait for the bus, a ten minute bus ride, and a ten minute walk to the doctor’s office, where after filling out a few forms I retreated to their very clean single occupancy bathroom. I felt awful and wanted something done about it, so I open mouth breathed while kneeling in front of the toilet bowl for a while. It’s a technique I use when I feel like I may throw up and want to encourage my stomach to expel whatever’s clearly upsetting it. [I also wish to take this moment to make this very clear: I am not, nor have I ever been, bulimic. I don’t endorse or condone bulimia. I’m sure it’s very easy to read what I just wrote as inducing vomiting to purposefully purge, but it is not. I was not trying to make myself vomit, but I was prepared for that to happen should my body have decided that’s what it needed to do.] What ended up happening was about five minutes of dry heaving before my body apparently decided that because there was nothing there, that nothing was wrong anymore.

What was wrong with me? I hadn’t interacted with anyone who was sick, had I? I had recently started babysitting, could I have gotten something from one of the kids? Was I not as diligent as I thought I’d been with maintaining social distance and wearing a mask and sanitizing and washing my hands? Or was it something else? All I’d had to eat that day was some processed cake and a sugary latte, could I possibly have developed celiac disease overnight? Was my body finally shutting down it’s lactose-digesting functions? Was I just really overcaffeinated because I forgot to specify “half-caf” in my Starbucks order?

I posited these queries to my doctor while she poked around my vagina. She said it was possible I could be lactose intolerant or I could be crashing from the caffeine. When the staff had taken my temperature I wasn’t running a fever, so it wasn’t likely I’d caught anything off of someone. With a final fingering to gauge the position of my uterus (I learned it has a slight anterior tilt), my appointment was done and I was free to go home. Though I felt better, I decided against calling on my old roommates and to instead just head back to Graham’s. I made one last gift purchase before hopping on the LIRR, and my Christmas shopping was essentially done.

The feeling didn’t disappear though, and on some days it became unmanageable. My GI system was clearly in distress, and not a lot was helping. I found a few packs of ginger turmeric tea at Graham’s house and made myself a cup, firmly placing my faith in the healing properties of what some (uncultured) people call “hot leaf juice”. I think it helped, but I can’t be sure. I’d told Graham about what was going on and what I thought it could be, and he could sympathize and to a degree empathize. It wasn’t until one night when I was again dry heaving into a toilet bowl that Graham fully saw what an awful state I was in. I told him at this point I thought it was a manifestation of the stress we’d been under for the past eight weeks. For eight weeks we’d been searching for apartments, passing on nice ones just out of our budget, trying to come to terms with the infinite number of mediocre same-floor plan, same-color, same-appliances, same-building looking ones, and getting discouraged with the shitty, falling apart ones. I had spent my first Thanksgiving away from my family and had resigned myself to spending Christmas apart from my family for the first time as well. I’d had three separate COVID tests in the past two months. I hadn’t spoken to my therapist since before Thanksgiving. And I had spent the entire month at Graham’s family’s house, which was not something I had wanted.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Truly, I’m indebted to Graham’s mom for letting me not only stay with them rent-free (but agreeing to walk their dogs) but also keep my stuff there while she is also getting ready to move out. But I have never felt comfortable calling someone else’s place my home. I cannot help but feel like an outsider, and no matter how many times people tell me to “make [myself] comfortable” and “help [myself] to whatever food there is” I will feel like an imposition and a burden. It’s only my anxiety coming through, but it comes through LOUD.

I finally scheduled an appointment with my therapist again, and poured all this out to him. I told him exactly how bad things had gotten, and not for the first time I considered asking to be prescribed anti-anxiety medication and possibly antidepressants. I decided to keep going without them...for now.

Christmas Eve came and Graham, his family, and I all celebrated together. We were gifted some lovely items to start our life living together, like a knife set, a set of glasses, new bedding, and a casserole dish. It was a lovely respite from the stress.

On Christmas Day, Graham and I went to see another apartment. This apartment was in the same building as the apartment we almost signed for, and the only differences were that this apartment was on a lower floor and didn’t have a balcony. It was also almost $100/month less than what we had almost agreed to. The owner said he would send over the application and answers to our questions on Monday. We both felt good about this apartment.

When Monday came with no e-mail from the guy, I reached out to him to ask when we could expect it. His response was that he had just been diagnosed with COVID-19 and now wanted to sell instead of rent. This became all too much for me, and when I got back into Graham’s car as we were out running errands, I started screaming. I hadn’t screamed like this since a particularly bad day of work I had back when I worked at Target. It was cathartic, but I felt cold and disconnected from Graham for the rest of the day. Something had broken inside me, and I wasn’t sure if it was my heart, my soul, my mind, or all three. It took a while for me to recover, and honestly I’m still hurt and feel betrayed by this guy. I understand I cannot speak for what’s best for him or what he felt he should have done, but Graham and I felt that we were given the runaround by this guy. We scheduled another COVID test for ourselves, and tried to move forward.

We made it to New Year’s Eve, and stayed up to watch 2020 end. New Year’s felt somber this year, and it felt hard to celebrate the start of a new year when the one we just went through was so damaging.

But we made it. We’re here, and it’s the first week of January in 2021. Currently there are radical conservatives storming the Capitol protesting the electoral college results, but in less than 20 days, Trump will be out of office. I’ve given myself goals that are manageable for the new year, and Graham and I have three applications out for three different apartments, and there’s a chance we may be able to get the apartment we saw on Christmas Day. We keep moving forward, because the alternative is to not move at all.

And I refuse to allow that for myself.